Page 2 of Of Pixies and Promises
Colt shrugged. “Is it?”
“I’ve danced in the sky with half the single males my age. Believe me. Wanting and trying isnotthe problem.”
“The Well-blessed human Seelie High Queen is an incredible healer and mated to a shifter. Perhaps if you visit the Summer Palace with a gift, she might have an elixir or something to fix you.”
Great. Now I’m defective.
“No,” Nyra snapped. “If my wings aren’t making dust, then none of these miscreants are my mates. That’s all there is to it. And I’m not the type to wait for them to find me.”
“Why not let me or your mother pick your consorts? Then you don’t have to worry.”
“I don’t need you to pick my dicks.” Nyra sighed. “I may never go into heat without pixie dust. Without an heir, what kind of queen am I?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Start protecting the gully on my own.” Nyra’s wings fluttered, and she walked to the cave exit.
“Wait, your dress!”
But she was done listening to all the reasons she was failing. She needed to get out of there.
Nyra stepped out of the tree hollow, her wings vibrated, and she became airborne and weightless. She shifted from dragonfly size to full-fae size in a blink, uncaring that she drained most of her internal well to do so. She still had enoughmanato protect herself should she need it.
Colt didn’t follow, which meant she either had no mana left to grow in size or had decided it wasn’t worth another argument.
Good.
Nyra needed to be alone.
She flew through the ferns and lush green underbrush, then up as she twined around the tall trees. Her flowing ballgown caught on a branch. Nyra heard a distinct rip and winced but kept flying until she burst through the canopy into sun-warmed air. She inhaled deeply and faced the bright orb. A flock of parrots flew by as she basked, pelting her rudely.
She hissed and snapped her fangs. If she were small, she’d have spiraled and potentially lost equilibrium. But she grinned as she caught them flying in formation. It looked wonderful. Freeing.
And exactly what she needed. Throwing caution to the wind, she joined them—shrinking back into dragonfly size so she could coast in their slipstream and forget about the world. Whoops—there went another chunk of her mana stores.But there was no substitution for the wind beneath her wings and her troubles behind her.
A curl of smoke wafted from the forest nearby. Peeling away from the flock, she spread her wings and corkscrewed down to survey the land as she dropped.
That smoke was too thick for hunters—both human or fae. Was it a catastrophe? A wildfire? She concentrated on her connection to the gully and immediately felt something was wrong but couldn’t understand why.
She buzzed closer, coasted, buzzed forward, then a horrendous crash vibrated through the gully. She startled. Trees screamed as they were cut viciously from their root systems. Someone was logging. No, it was worse than logging—they were reaping. Raiding.
“Humans,” she hissed.
It must be. Fae would work harmoniously with the trees. Elves magically grew plants for furniture and buildings to not hurt the forest. That scream—it could also be Oak Men. They sometimes looked so similar to the trees that it was hard to tell them apart. A human would have no clue.
Keeping her small shape to avoid detection, Nyra flew closer to the disruption. It definitely wasn’t loggers—although they’d cut down a few trees to make space. The sound came from a metal machine on wheels. It had a manticore’s tail that reached over its head and dug into the ground, tearing it up to expose what lay beneath.
Digging?
Taking?
That was the source of the most pain. A group of humans stood around the hole. Some worked on unearthing while others stood guard. Some cut wood from the tree they’d felled and piled the offcuts into an awaiting vehicle.
Nyra’s eyes narrowed. She barely held back her snarl.
These were the same kind of humans who’d killed her fathers.
Metal was forbidden in Elphyne. It blocked the flow of mana from the Well. It wasn’t so bad in its raw mineral form, but no magic flowed through it when processed. Only Guardians—the ruthless warrior protectors from the Order of the Well—had the power to use mana and still hold forbidden substances. But they were far away from here. Getting a message to them in timewould be impossible. It looked like this group of humans was halfway through their job.
