Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) (30 page)

BOOK: Dust (Of Dust and Darkness)
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I’m about to devour the most wonderful tasting oatmeal I’ve ever had in my life. Or at least I think I am – I’ll never know for sure since I doubt I’ll be able to taste it. Starla made it. I see chunks of strawberries, blueberries, minced almonds and a swirl of honey on top. I practically drool when Jack hands it to me, wisps of steam escaping the jar, a wooden spoon staked firmly in place.

             
“Oh, wow. Wish we had a cook like her in the Hollow. How you’re not fat I’ll never know.”

             
He
chuckles with
amusement. “If anything’ll put meat on your bones, it’s this.”

             
It’s thick and gooey and in a few minutes, I feel heavy inside. I chase it down with several chugs of water, not caring that he’s entertained by me downing a bucket of water. Maybe he’s waiting to see if I choke or drop it on my head or something.

             
“So, Mister-I’m-making-it-up-as-I-go-along, have you come up with anything?”

             
“Well…”
Oh, no
. This doesn’t sound good already. Why do his eyes always avert to anything but me when he’s about to tell me something I’m not going to like? “Look, getting you out of this prison is nothing. The danger is what lies outside the boundary…”

             
“Yeah. And?” I beckon.

             
“Rosalie…no one will look twice if all they see are two faeries together.”

             
My forehead furrows, forcing my eyes to squint a bit as I try to figure out the puzzle. “O
-
kaaay… I’m a little short to pass as a faerie, so what in Mother Nature are you thinking that’s going to make me look like one?”

             
His cheeks fill with air and I’m stuck waiting impatiently for him to blow it out slowly. “Pixie dust.”

             
There’s no hesitation when I scream, “Are you nuts? You can’t use pixie dust on complicated organisms like us. It never works right and sometimes really screws up the fae.”

             
“And sometimes it does work,” he quickly rebuts.

             
“Easy for you to say! You’re not the one it’ll be sprinkled on! Not to mention it’s completely forbidden and punishable with prison time.”

             
“And that would make your life different, how?” he scoffs.

             
I groan, but not from his snarky remark. My insides are growling over the heavy meal churning in my stomach. Note to self…eat heavy meals slower.
             

             
“What about passing me off as a younger faerie?” I ask, my hand instinctively covering my upset stomach.

             
“Yeah, Rosalie,” he mocks. “We’ll just put your nasty hair in pigtails and let you skip around.”

             
“Uh…okay!” I mock back. “Why not? It seems a heck of a lot better than jinxing me with dust.”

             
“And what happens if we cross paths with a spriggan or a faerie? Your face won’t pass as a child’s. Either way, we’d have to use pixie dust on you to make you pass. I’d rather try to raise you two inches than try to alter your face.”

             
I throw my head back in frustration and groan loudly, my hands poised on my hips with attitude. I feel a rush of dizziness when I try to roll my eyes. It’s not like he can see, so I surprise myself by even trying. My head pulls forward again. “I don’t know, Jack.”

             
“Look, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. How about I try experimenting with the dust? I’ll start small, like an earthworm or something, and make my way up…determine if we can even consider this kind of magic.”

             
Maybe it’ll work. I just don’t know. But I feel kind of bad for anything he dusts if it doesn’t work out.

             
He takes my silence and lack of facial negativity as a yes, and begins to lift upward.

             
“You’re going already?” I’ve hardly seen him lately.

             
“Yeah. I’ve got traps to set if I’m going to have anything to try this on.”

             
He departs, and I sit and lean back at an angle. I’ve got a lot of leg exercises before me today and I’m hoping this will aid my digestion along. I have to hand it to Jack. He’s bound and determined to get me out of here, especially if he’s considering such drastic actions as testing dust on animals. It’s frowned upon by my species, so I’m pretty sure it is by his species as well. But I suppose
with
as much time as he’s spent in the forest getting lost with his friend Bastian, he’s probably got a few spots he can work in without being noticed by other fae.

             
But e
ven if he can find a safe way to use dust on the animals, do I really want him trying it on me? Possibly getting caught and punished for it aside, pixies have seriously messed themselves up doing this in the past. Even I’ve witnessed a mishap or two. An older pixie named Berry once thought her nose looked too big for her body, so she tried to size it down. She made it so small she couldn’t even breathe through it. It
ended up
no bigger than
the
length of an ant. The elders didn’t imprison her since she did it to herself, but they did decide to make her live with it for a year before they would allow it to be fixed. Luckily for her, the effects wore off after a month and they didn’t redo it just to punish her further…she had learned her lesson.
             

             
Berry was lucky,
be
cause plenty of o
thers have suffered permanent effects. One male had monstrously oversized biceps, uneven on both arms so it looked super ridiculous, and another attempted to permanently paint her eyebrows, resulting in a funky green stain splotched all over her face.

             
Pixie dust wasn’t meant to be used on pixies. Its main purpose is to aid the growth of nature where natural methods like fertilizing and replanting fail. And organisms like plants and trees are far less complicated than our bodily structures, so they’re easier to manipulate. Which is why I’m so afraid of Jack thinking the only way to get me safely out of here is to sprinkle some dust on me. That, and it’s possible I’ll be so disfigured no one will be able to look at me without cringing; if they find the courage to look at all.

 

Jack stops by in the morning long enough to tell me he’s gotten the dust to stretch the length of an earthworm and a mouse spider without complications. I shiver in disgust at the thought of that spider gaining mass. I’m a nature girl and I love all of Mother Nature’s creatures, but still, anything with fangs or pinchers creeps me out.

             
“What else are you going to try?”

             
He shrugs. “Depends on what I find in my traps today.” I sigh and shake my head. “Don’t worry, Rosalie. I’ll find a way to make this work.”

             
I huff. Sure…no problem. You just have to find a few animals to play with first. The idea doesn’t sit well with me, but I decide not to mention it. As well as I’ve gotten to know Jack, I’m pretty sure he feels bad
about
doing it. And I know he wouldn’t move forward if he thought it would truly hurt them. Still, the idea of what he’s doing goes against nature, and I can’t help but feel guilty for being the reason.

 

In just two days, I
might
be free. Those words overtake my thoughts as I fail to keep count of the number of laps I make around the hole. In just two days, I may permanently disfigure myself. I may not make it past the spriggans, through the woods, or down the river. Or even find my way home. But it’s possible I may. The pixie dust may work wonders. I may make it past the spriggans, through the woods, and down the river. And I may even make it home to my tree house. To Poppy.

             
My body goes numb and I stop dead in my tracks, because I realize, that whether I make it out of here or not, I won’t ever see Jack again.

             
In just two days.

 

I’m not doing too well in my battle to release Jack from my emotions. I try to convince myself that it’s just a crush and that the feelings will never be returned, but I’m failing miserably at it. My heart keeps fighting back with an endless list of what ifs.
What if
what you’re feeling isn’t a crush, but love, and you just don’t understand the difference – it’s not like you have experience in this department, right?
What if
there was a way to make this relationship last, whether stuck in this prison indefinitely, or out in the real world, where we can sneak off and meet up with each other in secret?
What if
the pixie elders would allow you to have this relationship, because of what you’ve gone through, and that they’ll see he’s worthy of keeping close to the heart?

             
And the cruelest one of all –
What if
Jack loves you back?

             
It’s with desperation that I analyze his features, words and bodily movements for anything that tells me the permanent separation looming before us will devastate him as much as it does me. I’ve noticed his smiles have lessened these past several days. And he’s only been coming by to give me rations and update his progress. Is he really busy the entire time he’s gone? Or is this his way of distancing himself from me? And perhaps forcing me into it as well... Maybe seeing me less is making the inevitable easier for him. Because whether my heart likes it or not, the reality of separation is as blinding as the midday sun…when I get to see it, of course.

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