Page 10 of The Pixies' Chosen

I know that feeling well because I, too, am dismayed. I stare at the one called Inika, my wings trembling with frustration. I cannot help but to think that she and I would be feeling far more joyous at this moment if the right female had been shrunk.

“Ammayi, what do we do? Rakep, we must fix this,” she says, her head turning to her mate standing a short distance behind her. “Our daughter’s entire future depends on being normal sized. What can she do like this? How will she even get married?”

“Nagmati,” her male drawls reluctantly. “Perhaps that is not the time to think of this. There is a lot to consider here that will impact Ammayi’s life now.”

I snort quietly to myself because he is not wrong. Being eaten by wildlife would be more of a concern than mating but Tryst’s wings flutter wide in a bold declaration as he steps closer to the female who he insists that we have claimed.

“Mother Nagmati, do not be sad,” he cajoles—rather uselessly in my opinion though the female did seem to have at least silenced to hear him. “There is nothing for you or your mate to worry about. Ammayi will be well cared for, I promise. She is our mate and queen, chosen by fate. As a hive and as pixies, we can do no less.”

How easily he throws around “we.” We will be doing nothing of the sort. The moment I can resolve the situation is the moment that we get things on proper course. I’m just not exactly sure yet how to do so. My wings drop slightly with my frustration, but they pop back up and I nearly fall over as the elder female Nagmati lets out another wail.

“No, this is not right. It cannot be,” she cries, dabbing at her eyes with the silk material draped over her. “What sort of future is it to be married to pixies? My poor daughter will suffer.”

“Mummi, maybe it won’t be so bad,” Ammayi hesitantly interjects. “I’ve been shrunk but that is hardly the worst that can happen to a person.”

In spite of myself, I feel a small kernel of respect for her. At least she is not crying and wailing, too.

“Besides, consider this a birthday present you wanted,” she says with far too much levity. “I have mates—that is as good as being married, but twice the fun.”

And there that kernel of respect went, winking out like it never existed as I clench my jaw and stare at her. She dared to assume! Despite Tryst’s words and assurances, no such thingwas going to happen. As good as it was for her to accept her fate, but I refuse for it to be at my expense. Unfortunately, Tryst looks all too pleased at her words and my wings buzz with agitation.

“But what do we know of them?” Nagmati protests. “Setting aside that there are two of them, they do not come from a good Gujarati family. How can we trust them to properly take care of our Ammayi, or for our daughter to know what is expected of her life with them? No, this cannot work.”

I open my mouth to agree that this indeed cannot work—though not for the reasons she insists, but once again Tryst sweeps in before I can say anything.

“We are not human, Mother Nagmati,” he replies calmly, “but I can assure you that no one would treat your daughter with better caring than a pixie hive. The fae adore their mates and are protective of them and their offspring if nothing else. You can trust us with Ammayi.”

She gives him a doubtful look, but Ammayi looks nearly convinced of his sincerity and I swallow my groan. She will be even more difficult to deal with if she latches onto Tryst’s spun fantasy.

“What about grandchildren and my normal sized daughter?” she protests.

Tryst shrugs. “What does size matter? She can live a full and happy life with us as she can with any other male.”

I scoff inwardly and fight back a desire to smack some sense into him. It is easy enough for him to say but Tryst and I have never been any other size than what we are now. Neither of us truly know what struggles Ammayi may encounter much less whether or not he possesses any true capability to make her happy. As for me… that is not my aim.

“As for grandchildren,” he purrs, obviously warming to the idea as he ignores the irritated buzz of my wings. “Pixie childrenare beloved within their nests. We would be happy to give you as many grandchildren as we can.”

Nagmati pauses as her mate clears his throat, and the pair exchange a glance, the male nodding slightly in silent communication while Ammayi complexion darkens with embarrassment. I snort at her reaction. How juvenile. What is there to be embarrassed about when it comes to breeding and offspring? Such things are treasured by pixies. A pixies’ queen should not be embarrassed about something so natural. I am certain that Inika would not be. Curious as to what her reaction may be, I glance over at Inika and am warmed by the little smile playing upon her lips. The idea of pixie offspring must please her. I can feel my shimmer growing brighter as it pulses for her with the seductive promise of fulfilling every single one of her desires.

“Mummi, it is probably worth at least giving it a try,” Ammayi says slowly, and I grit my teeth in frustration. “Obviously, this is what god has given to me. And if, for whatever reason, this fate comes with a pair of pixies to spend my life with—who am I to complain? At very least I can try to find the best in this situation. If that means trusting them—maybe we should?”

I snarl inwardly with frustration as Tryst eagerly nods his head. The both of them are happy to walk blindly off the cliff and drag me down with them! If it were Inika, it would be different, but Inika is not Ammayi, and the calm grace she exudes cannot be matched by Ammayi’s weak optimism. There is not even real confidence behind it, just a blind faith without stability. She will be like a drowning victim, clinging desperately to keep from sinking and bringing down anyone else nearby with her.

Nagmati sighs. “Are you sure you can’t just… not do this?”

“I don’t think it works that way, Mummi,” Inika murmurs. “I think… I think we should trust Ammayi’s judgment.”

“And such great judgment she has had,” their mother sighs. “She is always all over the place without ever possessing a clear direction.”

I give a grim shake of my head. That is not encouraging. The gods have a terrible sense of humor.

“How, exactly did this happen? Can you tell us that much?” Rakep asks as he rests his large hands on his mate’s shoulders.

Tryst gives me a long look and I shrug. Well, why not. Who better to explain—even if it must be a highly edited version of events. The humans have just begun to calm. There is no reason to send them into an uproar again so soon. And so, with arms firmly folded against my chest, I begin to speak.

CHAPTER 9

TRYST

---