Page 5 of Fairies Don't Fall

“Now what?” I whispered.

“Now you put the egg in the nest,” he whispered back.

Right. But how? The owl was staring at me. It was so big. It could take off my forearm with one snap of that vicious beak. I took a shaky breath then pulled myself up to crouch on the thin ledge beneath the nest while Max held onto the cliff face, out of range of the vicious beak. He gave me an encouraging nod as I opened the backpack and carefully lifted the helmet out. The egg was large, half the size of my head. It was going to be another giant owl, probably.

I undid the clasp and rolled the egg back into the nest at the feet of the owl without touching it.

“Sorry about that,” I said with another bright smile.

The owl raised its head and then bowed regally.

My smile faltered as I stared at that glorious creature, for a moment taken out of my own misery as I felt the bird’s approval. Maybe it really was an owl god. I bowed back, as gracefully as possible. Grace was my name, but graceful, I was not. My foot slipped and I stumbled backwards. Max grabbed me under my armpits, tossed me onto his shoulder, and then proceeded to climb down like I weighed absolutely nothing. From my position, the ground was dizzying as I hung over his shoulder, staring past his feet, and to the floor far below. It was covered in owl droppings, the same ones that were stuck to my feet. Hm. That would make excellent fertilizer for the terraforming murderer.

He took his time descending, choosing every foothold and handhold carefully like he didn’t have the ability to summon his beast with claws that could pierce stone easily enough. Wolf warriors’ claws could go through anything.

Finally, he leapt lightly to the floor and released me, lowering me into the thick, squishy bird droppings. Shoes. I definitely needed shoes like Max’s big black boots if I was going to be running around in these caverns regularly. I was starting to get the inklings of an idea. How to stay close enough to him and his people to protect them, while ferreting out the fairy who could block my will, and had almost certainly visited these caverns in the past.

“Come on,” he said, grasping my shoulder again, marching me through the owl cavern. As we went, he made a strange sound in his throat at the owls, and they made bobbing motions, like they were acknowledging him.

“You talk to them?” I asked.

“It’s either make friends with them, or eat them. I dislike eating feathers, and owls are mostly feathers. What about you? Shall I eat you or make friends with you?”

I glanced at his hand on my shoulder. Friends? I didn’t have friends. I had subjects and misery. What would it be like to have a friend? It would be nice, but if I did have a friend, it wouldn’t be with a warrior wolf. Not a chance. “Neither.”

“Neither?”

“I’m not your duty. I’m just a fairy that’s passing through.” My stomach cramped and I hunched over and focused on breathing through my nostrils. What was wrong with me? Oh. I needed to take more medicine or the medicine craving would be worse than the death-sickness that it helped numb.

“Actually, you are my duty, and you aren’t going anywhere until you’re capable of making clear-headed choices. This is an intervention, Sparkles. If a fairy comes to my caverns, she’s getting treatment.” He squeezed my shoulder with his warm hand, like he wanted to give me his strength while he waited for my moment of weakness to pass.

It did, and when we got to the main cavern, we kept walking, but I tripped on nothing and would have fallen if he didn’t grab my waist and continue walking with me dangling down at his side. From that position, I could slice through his neck with my blade wings, but would it go all the way through? Also, and most importantly, he was my best chance of getting close to the werewolves without them realizing that fairies were threatening them.

“What treatment?” I asked after a long time.

“Detox mostly. But first, we’re going to the library.”

A library was full of books. I didn’t read. Clearly, he did. That was unexpected. “Why are we going to the library?” Maybe they had better containment options for fairies. We were notoriously difficult to contain, although he didn’t make it look hard at all.

“If you’re going to write a dissertation about werewolves, then you should do research in the library, not in Song. Thelibrary is safe. Song is not. We’ll get you some books to study while you’re in the detention center.”

“But…” I frowned up at him while I dangled from his arm. “Maybe you should put me down. This isn’t very dignified.”

He lowered me, his grip on my shoulder absolutely implacable, but also gentle. Careful. He knew that my dissertation was a lie. He thought I was sick from pixie-dust, not death sickness, but either way, he was determined to heal me. If only there was a way to cure the sickness. I could draw it out of someone, but then it was stuck to me.

“You say that the library is safe, but why would a werewolf care if a fairy you’ve never met is safe? Werewolves hate fairies.” Yes. He should hate me, but he called me his duty, and said he was going to heal me, instead. Was he really so naïve, or was he setting me up for something truly awful?

He nodded. “In general terms, yes, they do. And you come here, knowing that werewolves hate fairies? You clearly need intervention.” He flashed me a smile, once more showing his teeth, but his eyes were concerned.

The look in his eyes shocked me to my core. This furry monster was concerned about my safety. Ruin was right. He was crazy. “You think that I intended to harm myself? I don’t think fairies are capable of not wanting to protect their own interests. We’re selfish and narcissistic as a rule.”

He flashed me another smile. “They would also never admit it, particularly to a lesser creature like me.”

No one called themselves lesser, so he was being sarcastic, or he was referring to the way I thought about him, which I’d made abundantly clear through my very unsubtle insults. Yes, I was definitely helping to promote the cause of peace and equity between all species. Not. My mother would be so disappointed in me. Was he lesser? He definitely had more body mass. And hair.And wasn’t using his long legs to walk fast so I had to jog to keep up.

“What makes someone lesser?” I asked, avoiding a direct response.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t rank people or breeds.”

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