Fair Konig, the leader of the pixies, had requested an audience with me. Alone. He swore on his first-born son that I would be safe. Keir, who had watched his own father, a druid bard, negotiate terms with many species during his childhood, had told me that the pixie wouldn’t go back on his word. Still, it had agitated him that he couldn’t come with me.
I swatted at a dozen pixies that swarmed me as I exited the kitchen door to the garden.
“Stay back,” I rasped. “Or I will torch the lot of you.” I waved a flaming finger around until they all flew to a safe distance.
Pixies, it turned out, were six inches of pure chaos. They wore leaves and flower petals in strategic positions on their bodies as clothing. With razor-sharp wings, skin a deep green like the color of bluegrass, glossy black hair, and tempers that rivaled Linda’s, I was beginning to think they were just as dangerous as the gnome had suggested.
The pixies’ chattering sounded like a series of deranged clicks and squeaks as they escorted me to the bench in my garden. There, sitting on top of the backrest, was a pixie with hair that was tied back in a ponytail with a flower stem. He had a thick black beard and what appeared to be a permanent scowl.
I stopped just short of the bench, crossed my arms over my chest—mostly to hide my shaking hands—and waited for the tiny bastard to speak. This was his show, after all.
We stared at each other for a few minutes. I was about to say screw it and walk away when he finally said, “So, you’re Iris Everlee.” His accent was Germanic, much like Linda’s. It made me wonder if her grudge or vendetta against the troupe was even more personal than them taking over her garden.
Was there a history between her and the pixie leader that she hadn’t told me about?
“I am,” I told him. “Why are you here?”
“Because you are the one responsible for our awakening.” He held up his hands as if surrendering. “So now you and your tribe must act as our der Beschützer.”
“Your what?”
“Our protector.”
I shook my head. “Nope. You’re barking up the wrong witch.”
“Your power carried the summoned die Fruchtbarkeitsriten.” He gestured around the garden. “Now, my troupe and I are at the mercy auf Staub Jäger. This will be our refuge until it is completed.”
A series of clicks and squeaks from his family grew louder as they zipped around my late-blooming flowers I grew near the fence, the zinnias and lilies.
I cleared my throat to quiet them. “No offense to you and your people, but there’s a gnome who has already claimed this garden. And she isn’t fond of sharing.”
He narrowed his dark, beady eyes at me. “Then she’ll have to leave. You have ignited our quickening with your power before we could make arrangements for our protection.”
“It’s not my fault.” But I felt a twinge of guilt. My aero-craft had been chaotic and unpredictable. Maybe whatever was happening to the pixies was my doing, even if it had been inadvertently. “But even if I did trigger your fruit bats to write, poor planning on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on mine,” I said, using a quote my mother liked to use when any of us kids would come to her in a panic because we’d left an important school assignment to the last minute.
Fair Konig’s frown deepened. “You have incited the die Fruchtbarkeitsrite eight-hundred years early. If not for you, we would have made other plans. Now, you must protect us until the rite is complete.”
Well, shit. “Uhm, I can barely protect myself.” Not altogether true, but I didn’t have space in my life to add hundreds of pixies. “You’ll have to fruit-bite somewhere else, pal.”
Before he could counter, we were interrupted by unnatural squeals and shrieks of fear. I whipped around in time to see a giant orange and white tabby with no tail jumping into the air, trying really hard to catch pixies between his paws.
“Bob,” I scolded my familiar as he managed to grab ahold of one. “Put that pixie down.”
“Annibish!” Fair Konig shrieked. His wings jutted out from his back, and he flew into the air, his movements darting like that of a hummingbird. He zipped back and forth, slashing at Bob with a tiny sword.
Bob, who thought it was a game, let go of his captive, flipped onto his back, and started swatting at the angry pixie every time he buzzed by.
“Stop,” I demanded as Fair Konig drew first blood by nicking Bob’s ear. I stepped in and grabbed Bob, hauling his fat butt into my arms to shield him from the onslaught of miniature psychos and took a few cuts to my arms in the process. “Don’t hurt him.”
Bob, for all his flaws—and there weren’t many—was my cuddle monkey. Having him around was like taking Xanax with an edible. In other words, he was Zen personified, and I’d be damned if I was going to let any creature damage my Zen.
Fair Konig’s ponytail was frayed, and loose hair floated out from his head. “I told you to come alone, Iris Everlee.” He pointed his sword at me. “You’ve broken our agreement by bringing this imp along.”
“I did come alone.” This dude was giving me a serious case of the ass. “Bob came after. Agreement still intact.”
The crotchety pixie looked disappointed as he shook his head. “It might be to the letter, but it violates the spirit.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head. “Does not.”
He zipped into the air until he reached my eye level. The wind from his beating wings blew on my face. “Does so,” he angrily declared. “Does so, does so, does so!”
Wow. My first thought was that Fair Konig was having a meltdown to rival any toddler. My second thought, am I really arguing with a six-inch dude? And is this my life now? My need to flick him like a bug was intense. I tamped back the urge, seeing as how that probably wouldn’t end well for either of us.
Instead, I held Bob tight and walked past the pixie leader, ignoring his cries of outrage.
When I got to the kitchen door, I told him, “When you’re ready to talk to me like an adult, we’ll try this again. Until then, you can have your temper tantrum without me.”
I hurried inside, then slammed the door behind me. I exhaled noisily as I sagged against the door. “What a shitshow.”
“Now can we eliminate them,” Linda said, giving me I-told-you-so eyes.
“Definitely not.” I touched the scratches Fair Konig had left on my arm and shivered. “They weren’t trying to kill me.”
“Those aren’t love bites.” Keir frowned. “The pixies have broken the terms of their agreement.”
“Pish.” I waved off his concern. “They’re just a little excitable. A lot like children, actually,” I mused. “I’ve put Fair Konig into a timeout.”
“You’ve done what?” Linda sputtered. Then she began to cackle like a maniacal villain. “I can’t wait to tell my kin. It will be most entertaining.”
“I’m glad you’re amused.” I rolled my eyes. “What are we going to do about these winged nuisances?”
“I’ve already offered the solution,” Linda said.
I shook my head. “We’re not killing them.”
Linda spat. “Luftdämonen.” When I gave her a confused stare, she added, “Air demons. They bring nothing but trouble. It is too dangerous to allow them to stay.”
“That seems about right.” I was more convinced than ever that she wasn’t telling me everything about her past with the pixies. “Still. Killing them is wrong.”
“When you realize I am right about them, I expect a full and complete apology,” Linda declared.
“This is a little far from where pixies usually live,” Keir said. “Did they tell you why they came?”
“They said they came for me.” I sighed. “Something about barking fruit baskets.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Keir said.
“They said I had to protect them against some stabbers who liked Jagermeister.”
“Jager?” Keir asked, and it sounded like the way Fair Konig had said it.
“Sounds more right,” I answered. “And a lot less like an alcoholic beverage. What does it mean?”
Keir frowned. “Hunter.”
“So, does the hunter part give you any hint about what the fruit basket rites are about?” I set Bob on the counter near the gnome. It seemed like she needed his good juju more than I did. “He said I had to protect him and the other pixies. What do you think he meant?”
Keir was a professor of supernatural and all things occult. In other words, he was an expert, so I fully expected him to know.
He shrugged. “I’m going to need more than a fruit basket.”
So much for being an expert.
The more we talked about fruit, the more I wanted some. I grabbed a clementine from a bowl on the counter near the sink as I tried to remember how Fair Konig had said the foreign word. “It sounded a lot like fruit bark eye or ite. Yeah, like rite. Rite of Fruit-bark-ite.” My voice had gone up an octave with my excitement.
Keir’s brow dipped. “I’m going to have to do more research.”
“Or I can ask the little dude after his chill pill kicks in.”
“Oh, for zee love of sanity,” Linda said before she let out a string of curses. “It’s pronounced Fruchtbarkeitsriten.”
I snapped my fingers. “Yes, that’s it!”
Keir groaned.
“I’m missing something, aren’t I?”
Keir nodded. “You’re not going to like it.”
“I already don’t like it.”
“It’s worse than you think,” he said.
Linda composed herself and said, “It shouldn’t be possible, but the flying demons are planning to procreate all over my garden.”
“They’re what?”
“I am speaking English, Kleinkind. Please follow along.” She produced a rock and beaned me with it. “It is their fertility rites.”
I glared at her. “Not funny, Linda. Unlike some people, I’m not made of stone. You’re going to give me a concussion one day.”
She pished at me. “Your head is tougher than you think.”
Keir’s expression was serious and sober. “Staub jager,” he said. “Dust hunters.”
“Dust hunters?” The way he said it made me shiver. “Give it to me straight,” I told him. “I can take it. How bad is this?”
“Bad,” he repeated. “If your magic started the pixies’ mating cycle, they’ll definitely need protection until it’s over.”
“What do they normally do to stay safe?”
Keir’s mouth settled into a thin line. “They usually negotiate for safety from other groups strong enough to fend off creatures who would hunt them.”
Oh, man. I had done this. I was responsible. This wasn’t poor planning on their side. It was a wrecking ball on mine. “They said I awakened them eight hundred years early.”
Keir nodded. “That would leave them with very few options.”
I put my hand on Bob’s belly to alleviate some of my trepidation. “How could my magic have really done this?”
“You’ve been playing with aero-craft without any guidance,” Linda reminded me sharply. “You won’t even consult your grimoire.”
The grimoire liked to throw me into the deep end and tell me to sink or swim. That wasn’t the kind of lesson I wanted. “It won’t help me,” I protested.
“It might have helped the pixies,” she scolded. “Now their fertility has been awakened, and they are ready to mate.”
“Great, hundreds of tiny horny creatures. How am I supposed to protect them? And from what? Themselves? Are they like praying mantises, biting off the heads of the males after sex? Or male bees, where their balls explode after doing the deed?”
Keir looked appalled. “Nothing like that. But there will be hunters searching for them now.”
I waited for a moment for him to add more information, and when he didn’t, I rolled my hand at him. “Why?”
“Pixie dust.”
Again, he didn’t elaborate. I narrowed my gaze at him. “I feel like you’re stalling.”
His gray eyes met mine. “Because I am.”
“You’re not usually this cagey,” I stated. “Just rip the bandage off. Why is pixie dust bad?”
“Because it’s concentrated magic.” He held up his hands. “You know how there’s all this stem cell research going on right now, and how doctors can take a stem cell that is a blank slate and turn it into a bone cell, or cartilage cells, or whatever?”
“I’m familiar with it. Are you trying to tell me that pixie dust is the magical equivalent to a stem cell?”
He nodded.
“So, anyone who had the know-how could take pixie dust and turn it into some other kind of magic.”
Linda said, “Now, can’t you see why we should exterminate them before zee screwing and dusting and the fighting and death that will surely follow.”
I stared at the unusually blood-thirsty gnome. “They just want to make babies, Linda. Surely, you don’t hate babies.”
She scoffed. “This isn’t going to end well. You have other people in your life to think about. The rite takes place over three days, and it will act as a beacon for sidhe and other magical creatures. They will flock to your door in search of the dust.”
Keir scratched his head and stared out the kitchen window. Pixies were doing constant flybys, creating a distraction. “It’s as bad as it sounds,” he told me.
I let out a noisy breath. “We have to figure something out. Maybe we can arrange for them to go somewhere else.”
“They’ve already settled in this garden,” Keir said. “They won’t want to leave it until their offspring are born.”
Panic welled inside me. “I’m going to be dealing with pixies for nine months?”
“Two days after the rites,” Keir said. “But the dust will put off a magical signal until then.”
Linda’s eyes narrowed as she balled her fists at her sides. “A pixie Fruchtbarkeitsriten is a dangerous disaster in the making.”
I’d seen Linda look angry, irritated, disappointed, relieved, and amused, but right then, she wore an expression I’d never seen on her cherubic bearded face. Fear. Linda was afraid.
Which meant it was much, much worse than I thought.
Crap on crackers. My son didn’t have any powers yet. Although, Volres, the self-proclaimed fire god, had told me that Michael did possess tru-craft and would eventually spark. Would his DNA make him susceptible to the pixie dust, and even if he wasn’t, I couldn’t have him here if I was going to have to fight off supernatural dust collectors for the next three or four days? “Should I make Michael leave?”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Keir said. “At least until we see who or what shows up.”
My stomach churned. “And you’re sure this is going to happen? That the pixies are going to create this crazy hunt for magical stem cells?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m not a pixie expert, but from my studies, yes. There’s no avoiding it, historically speaking.” He put his arms around me, and I sagged against him.
“Great.” The news didn’t comfort me. I turned my head and glanced out the window. Fair Konig and his angry troupe were hovering just beyond the glass pane. I heaved a sigh. “I guess I better finish my friendly chat with the pests.”
Keir kissed the top of my head. “I’m going with you this time. Let’s see if we can persuade them to move to higher ground.”
I looked up at him. “Your place.”
He nodded. “I may not be a bard like my father was, but I’m a decent mediator.” Keir’s dad was someone who could weave poems to influence the outcome of a conflict. Even without the bard magic, I trusted Keir. He’d mediated the situation between the fire giants and me when they’d wanted to sacrifice me to their god. Surely, he could handle a bunch of miniature amorous jerks. Unless…. “You don’t think they want to sacrifice me to the fertility gods, do you?”
Keir made a face, his shoulders lifting slightly. “Probably not.”
I took a step back from him. “Probably?”
He chuckled. “They would have to get through me to get to you, and that’s not happening.”
I glared out the window at the hovering pixies. Maybe Linda was right. Perhaps, I’d spoken too hastily earlier when she’d offered one simple solution. “Can we put slaughtering them back on the table?”
“Yes,” Linda said quickly.
“No,” Keir countered. “Your first instinct was right. I hope.”
If he didn’t stop qualifying all his responses, I was going to smack him. “I love you, but you’re trying my nerves.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile.
“Nuh-uh.” I shook my head. “Wipe that pleased look from your face.” It wasn’t the first time I’d told him I loved him, but he perked up every time I said it. Even so, now wasn’t the time for complacency. “This is bad.”
“Potentially,” he interjected.
He was asking to be slapped. “Let’s fix this before potential becomes a certainty.”
Keir nodded. “I’m on board.”
I glanced at Linda to see where her head was at, and it was fixed and frozen in a stony expression of rage.
Why had she turned to stone? “Linda?”
The kitchen door swung open, and my sister Marigold hurried inside and slammed the door behind her. Her long, black hair was messy, and her tan skin was flushed. She held her hairpin in her right hand like a weapon.
“What in the flipping hell are those things?” She pointed out the window at the scattering pixies. “They attacked me!”
I grimaced. “Horny pixies,” I said honestly.
My sister Marigold knew about the paranormal world. I’d told her after she’d confided in me that she had taken a DNA test and found out she had a biological half-sister who was ten years younger than her. So, I’d given her a confession for a confession, and I told her I was a witch. It had taken her a minute when I told her about my true nature, but she’d come around to support me completely. We’d both agreed to tell the rest of the family our secrets. Marigold kept her end of the bargain, telling our siblings and dad about the half-sister. They’d all been supportive, as I knew they would be. However, I was having a difficult time bringing myself to fulfill my end of the bargain.
Her eyes widened as more pixies frantically buzzed by the window. “You’re living the most ridiculous life.”
I smirked. “Tell me about it.”
“Hey, Keir,” Marigold said to my guy before turning back to me. “I guess I should’ve called first.”
I gave her a quick hug. “You never have to call first.” Of course, if paranormal dust collectors started hunting in my backyard, calling first might be a good idea. “Well, maybe for the next week or so. You know, just in case.”
“In case of what?” She glanced outside to the garden. “Are they dangerous?”
“According to Linda,” I replied, not wanting to get into too much detail.
Marigold studied the stone gnome. She poked her cheek. “She really talks?”
“Yep,” I said. “And if you keep touching her like that, she’s going to make me pay for it.”
Marigold withdrew her hand. “Sorry. I still can’t believe she’s real.”
“She is, but she can’t animate in front of humans.”
“You mean humans of the muggle variety,” Marigold said, using the Harry Potter term for the non-magical.
“Yep.” I gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
She looked disappointed. “It’s fine.”
“What’s up?” I adored my sister. She was my best friend and the only person in my family who knew everything about me. So, I didn’t want to be rude, but I had a bit of a pest problem now. If what she wanted could wait, then it needed to wait.
“It’s Dad,” Marigold said.
“Is he okay?” I couldn’t keep the alarm out of my voice. Dad had been forgetting things lately. His short-term memory was slipping. All of us kids had been taking turns checking on Dad and keeping him company where we could. He lived alone in our childhood home, and I worried about him all the time.
“He took a fall early this morning.” Marigold put her hand on my shoulder as Keir picked up Bob and put him in my arms. “He’s okay, but Rowan said he tried to call you several times earlier. I thought you were just ignoring our brother until I called and went straight to voicemail.” She peered at me. “I know you’d never screen my calls.”
“Never,” I agreed.
She smiled. “That’s when I decided to chance coming over. I thought you might be out in your garden practicing your hoodoo.”
Marigold wasn’t far off from the truth. I’d been at Keir’s place all morning, practicing my aero-craft. He didn’t have any cell phone reception. “Is he in the hospital?”
“Not anymore. His x-ray didn’t show any broken bones, but his knee is banged up.” She shook her head. “Dad was on the floor for a couple of hours. We’re going to have to have a family meeting,” she said.
“When?” I asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon. We’ll all be at Michael’s game tonight. Even Dad.”
“But he’s hurt.”
“Dad said it would take more than a bruised knee and a bruised ego to keep him away from watching his oldest grandson do his thing.”
That sounded exactly like our father. “Does he need a ride?”
“Rose is going to bring him,” she assured me. “She’s been hanging out with Dad since he got back from the hospital.
I tamped down the rising guilt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t available.” I stroked Bob’s fur to calm myself.
“You look like you’ve had your hands full,” Marigold said.
Keir gave me a meaningful look, then glanced out the window.
“After I deal with the pixies,” I added.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Marigold said. “You only have a few hours before the game to settle whatever this is.” She waved toward the garden. “Get your freaky-deeky shit under control, sis.”
I chuckled. “I’m going to give it my best shot.”
Marigold leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Love your guts.”
Bob made me feel calm, but I still had to force a smile. “Love your guts back.”
Marigold gave Keir a quick hug and a cheek peck. “When’s Lu getting back?”
Lu was a badass warrior druidess, and she was also Keir’s younger sister. She’d been called back to the Iron Grove, the ruling body of the North American druids, for a mission.
“I’m not sure,” Keir replied. “Lu hasn’t been able to tell me much.”
I knew it bothered him that the Iron Grove hadn’t trusted him enough to let him in on the mission. Keir told me that the Grove enforced laws for druid-kind and tru-craft witches since before the age of Merlin. That’s when I’d found out Keir and Luanne’s grandmother was the Archdruid, leader of the druid conclave. It had to bother him that his blood relative was keeping things from him, but if he took it personally, he never let it show.
“And Zev?” Marigold asked with nonchalance. “Is he, uhm, coming back? I mean to help you since you have all this going on.” She gestured to the window.
Zev, the ifrit who had helped me tame the flames of my fire element, had been sent by the Grove to test my magic. He’d left Southill Village after my aero-craft sparked. I wasn’t sure if it had been related to Luanne’s departure or if he just had somewhere else to be. However, Zev had been flirtatious with Marigold while he’d been in town. I knew my sister had hoped more would develop between them, and she’d been disappointed when he’d left without saying goodbye.
“Zev does Zev.” Keir shrugged. “Who can say with him?”
Marigold’s expression was pinched, but she affected cheerfulness as she dipped down and kissed the gnome on the forehead. “Nice seeing you again, Linda. It’s always a pleasure.” She giggled. “Man, she looks really pissed.”
“I’m sure she is,” I said. Cripes, I was so paying for this.
My sister turned to the backyard door, then stopped. She pointed to the living room. “I’ll just go out the front.”
I made a shooing motion with my hand in that direction. “Good idea.”
After she left, Linda animated, glared at me, then threw a rock at my head. I ducked, and it fractured the windowpane.
I looked at the chipped spot in the glass. “Damn it, Linda. I’m going to have to get that replaced now.”
She blushed. “Tell your sister not to put her filthy mouth on me,” she said sheepishly. “I’m sorry about the glass.”
A tap, tap, tap-tap drew our attention. The pixies, a few dozen at a time, were flying into the window, widening the crack. I hugged Bob tighter, but not even his ju-ju could settle my stomach. The crackling sound as the crevice broadened made my chest squeeze. I glanced from Linda to Keir, and they both looked equally horrified.
My freaky-deeky shit was about to hit the fan.