“Pretty Pixies are very hard to spot,” Posey says as we walk along a woodland path.
I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I can see trees, ferns, flowers, wild berries, and clusters of polka-dot mushrooms. I can also hear the sound of a bubbling brook nearby. These woods are perfect—no fallen trees or dead leaves, or any trace of icky, itchy poison ivy.
“Are we near the Land of the Pretty Pixies?” I ask.
“Very near,” Posey says. “In fact, we may be standing in the Land of the Pretty Pixies right now—so watch your step!”
“Wow, they must be tiny!” Andever exclaims.
“A Pretty Pixie village can fit inside a burgabane box,” Posey tells us.
“Okay.” I pause. “Are you going to tell me what a burgabane is?”
“It’s food made with cheese and tomato sauce on round bread,” says Posey. “You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“You mean pizza?” I ask. “Obviously, I know pizza. It’s delicious! Wait, the entire village can fit in a burgabane box?”
That is very small! I think. Then I quickly check the bottom of my shoe to make sure I haven’t stepped on a Pretty Pixie. Andever checks under her hooves too.
“Have you ever heard of pixie dust?” Posey asks.
I put a hand on my hip. “Obviously,” I say. “Who hasn’t?”
Posey rolls his eyes. “Well, Pretty Pixies are pixie dust! And have you ever noticed dust sparkling in a beam of light?”
Andever and I both nod.
“Those are Pretty Pixies in their Pretty Pixie Dust form! It’s how they sneak around.”
“Wow, wow, triple wow,” I say. “I never knew that before!”
Note to self: Look more closely at sparkling dust beams from now on.
Then I walk right into a swarm of gnats. Ugh! I brush them away, but they come right back. I wave my hands like crazy to shoo them away. And then I take a closer look and gasp.
“Oh no! These are not gnats!” I cry. “It’s Pretty Pixie dust!”
The Pretty Pixie dust swoops down toward a tiny pixie village. Then the dust forms into tiny pixies in flower-petal clothes!
Their town has itsy-bitsy houses with pinecone scales for shingles. There are eensy-weensy rustic twig chairs and tables. I see winding pebble paths and elven bridges that lead to wee playgrounds with leaf hammocks and acorn swings. It’s an itty-bitty paradise!
