“Is that a yes?” I looked to Boudicca.
She grinned with her needle-sharp teeth and gave a prideful nod.
“It’s on the third level, on the right-hand side of the library, as you enter. It’ll be in a section marked ‘Rare Manuscripts,’” Nathan said, kneeling beside me. “There should be a Kelpie carved into the wooden post just next to it. It’ll be a few books to the left of the Kelpie. It’s called A Complete History of Wisps and Legends.”
I cast him an intrigued side-eye. “Have you memorized the place?”
“It’s part of the job.” He smiled back, proud.
Boudicca let out a high-pitched war cry, shooting her arms upward like a real queen ordering her army into battle. As one, the pixies spread their colorful wings, fluttering them with the speed of hummingbirds as they ascended and disappeared into the darkness above. Boudicca was the last to leave, leaping into the air and winging her way toward me, for a brief moment. Flying right up to my face, she leaned in and planted a tiny kiss on my forehead, cackling to herself as she spun around and ascended to catch up with her motley crew.
As I watched her go, silently wishing them luck. I felt a little lonely, like I’d lost another friend to this Wisp calamity. I guessed the mini-kiss had been her way of saying ‘au revoir’—goodbye, until we meet again. I just hoped the reunion wouldn’t be too far away.
“Do you think they’ll come back?” I whispered to Nathan. We were alone, with no way to get back to the walkway unless we wanted to clamber back up as though we were on some military assault course. Well, not unless Nathan had a trick up his sleeve for that.
Nathan smiled strangely, as if he knew something I didn’t. “I think they will.”
“What makes you say that? If I were them, I’d amscray.” I hated to admit it, but it was true.
“They like you, that’s why. You brought them back to life. Gratitude creates a very strong bond,” he replied. “It’s similar to resurrection, in a way. Necromancers have had their share of good and bad eggs throughout their history, but those who used it for good—to prevent tragedy… Well, they tend to be bonded for life with those they saved. You gave that to the pixies and, what’s more, they know you respect them.”
I thought about Astrid, back at the SDC. Her father, Alton Waterhouse, had been a Necromancer, and he’d used his abilities more than once to save the life of his daughter. Purging pixies didn’t feel quite as emotionally loaded as that—it wasn’t a split-second, life-or-death decision that I’d consciously made. But it was becoming more life or death thanks to Victoria’s code red, lethal force order. In essence, they wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me, and I was so glad they were.
I laughed awkwardly. “I can’t help it. They won me over.”
“Monsters do that, if you take the time to get to know them.” Nathan sighed. “That’s why it’s always so hard to let them go when the message comes that they need exporting to the Bestiary.”
I released a breath, realizing I’d been holding it in. Nathan was saying things that I hadn’t dared to, and it felt validating to have a kindred spirit in this place. “How do you stand it?”
Nathan frowned, as though the question had thrown him. “I suppose… because I have to. At least by being with them, I have some control over their care, and I can learn more about each one.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “Besides, if it wasn’t me, it might be someone who doesn’t care at all.”
We stood in silence, both of us engrossed in our thoughts as we waited for the pixies to return with the book. I still wasn’t convinced they’d come back, but I had to hope that their desire to be exonerated was stronger than their desire to escape. Nathan’s words had perplexed and intrigued me. Did the pixies really like me, or was he just blowing sunshine at me? Truthfully, my heart had developed a soft spot for them, too, despite their mischievousness.
Some twenty minutes later, a faint buzzing sound drew my gaze upward. The squadron of pixies descended in formation, a small cluster of them carrying Nathan’s book. I tried to count the pixies, but I had no idea how many I’d actually Purged in the first place.
“Is everyone here?” I asked Boudicca as she made a grand entrance on my shoulder, flourishing her beautiful wings.
She beamed and pretended to count everyone off on her tiny fingers before shaking a triumphant fist in the air. I guessed that meant they were all present and accounted for, and my lungs took an easier breath. None had been captured during the mission, and they sure looked smug about it.
Grinning through her pin-sharp teeth, she swept a hand toward the book: ta-da. My eyes sought it out eagerly, only for my hopes to deflate as I realized what they’d brought: The Ladybird Book of Irish Myths and Legends. A kids’ book, more pictures than words, and definitely not what I’d asked for.
To make matters worse, the splinter cell who’d carried it was squabbling over who got to bring it to me. As each clawed for a corner, the book flew open to reveal a painstakingly detailed illustration of a leprechaun sitting under a dock leaf, dressed in green with ginger hair and a pipe in his mouth. As the rabble battled over the book and one of the pixies seized the corner of the page and pulled, the illustrated leprechaun ripped right in two. The pixies fought over the remaining pages, pulling the paper apart.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as they scampered toward me with eager faces, each of them brandishing an armful of shredded pages like it was the best gift in the world.
“This isn’t the right book,” I muttered apologetically, and the pixies looked crestfallen.
