The carriage had read my thoughts. Creepy when I pondered it—what else could it do? Could it store my thoughts? Could it repeat them to someone? Best not to think about it, I decided.
The carriage door whooshed open, and I stepped out.
As I walked through the streets, I realized the village was little more than a Wult outpost. These things cropped up everywhere and in every kingdom except the goblin lands. I found an inn, ate a meal of Wult stew, stretched my legs, and then resumed my journey. I couldn’t afford to lose more time.
Night drew near, and the last slanting rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting an orange glow over the ivory interior. I pulled Father’s ring box from my pocket and opened it, studying the tiny diamond and metal band, wondering what magic I could discover that would keep the pixies from killing me.
Discovering a new magic word was difficult, mainly because there was no set way to do it. The word chose when it would come to you, not the other way around. I studied the ring, whispering a few words and hoping to find the right one.
“Trust,” I said.
Nothing.
“Belief.”
Again, no reaction.
“Honor, integrity, faith.”
The magic remained dormant. After trying a few more words, I finally gave up. I wasn’t ready.
I’d hardly spoken to anyone all day. It should have unnerved me. Instead, I enjoyed the solitude. The conversations I’d had with Kull and my father had been dramatic enough to keep me entertained for a few more weeks at least.
Night replaced evening. From the windows, I watched tiny orbs of light flit past the carriage. Some were the lights of buildings in the distance. Others were flocks of fairies. The closer we drew near, the more my apprehension increased, and I found that sleep wouldn’t come.
Better to stay awake, I thought, and not repeat the same mistake I’d made on my last carriage trip into the Borderlands.
Up ahead, what appeared to be a massive mountain came into view, though I knew it was not a mountain. I’d made it. The trip had gone so smoothly I wondered if my luck was changing for once.
We approached the lighted hill. The form of an enormous tree stump began to take shape. Lights glowed inside, illuminating the curved root system.
This was one of the most amazing sights in Faythander. The pixies lived in the Ever Root Tree, a giant tree that had lived thousands of years ago. It must have been as tall as a skyscraper during its lifetime. Now, all that remained was a large stump, plus its entire root system that jutted from the ground. It was the largest specimen of petrified tree I had ever seen and most likely the largest one on either planet. It stood as tall and broad as a mountain.
The closer we got, the more I realized how unprepared I was. I had a box, my wits, and nothing else.
When the carriage stopped, I took a deep breath and stepped outside. As soon as I stepped away, the carriage zipped backwards, leaving me alone on a grassy plain that stretched toward the pixie city.
I grasped the box tight in my fist and thought of Jeremiah. I could do this.
I had only taken three steps when a pair of pixie guards materialized from the grass and blocked my path.
Pixies, on Earth, were thought of as fairy-like beings. It was a lie. I didn’t know how Earth dwellers came up with the idea of pixies being cute little woodland sprites, but it couldn’t be more wrong.
Take these two pixie guards, for example. They each stood about seven feet tall. Their wings reminded me of a dragonfly’s, though curved, black spikes protruded from the ends. When not braided, their cotton-white hair stuck up like a treasure troll’s. Their dark, scaly skin made the perfect camouflage, and they wore minimal clothing, usually just enough to cover the important parts.
Pixies used primitive weapons, though it didn’t decrease their effectiveness. These guards each carried spears with blackened tips. Poison, I was sure. A pixie’s knowledge of plants and their properties was unsurpassed.
“Stop now, or risk your death,” the first guard said, speaking with a thick accent.
I held up my hands. “I come peacefully. I wish to speak with your king.”
“Not possible,” the second guard said. “He dwells within the inner tree. Outsiders are not allowed.”
“This is very important. The survival of our entire world is at stake.”
The spears’ tips loomed in my vision. What would happen if I got pricked by one? I hoped I never found out.
“You lie,” the first guard said.
“No.” I stood tall. They wouldn’t intimidate me, although, in all fairness, they could have killed me in three minutes flat. “I speak the truth. I was sent by the king of dragons himself to deliver this warning.”
I supposed it was pretty close to the truth. If I’d been in better contact with my adoptive father, I’m sure he would have agreed.
“Sky King?” The first guard narrowed his eyes.
“Are you his ward?” the second asked.
Aha! We were getting somewhere. A little name-dropping never hurt.
“I am.”
They glanced at the sky as if Fan’twar would drop from the heavens any minute and bite their heads off. Not all races respected my stepfather the way the pixies did, but I felt grateful they had a healthy amount of fear where he was concerned.
“Take me to your king,” I demanded.
They glanced at each other, perhaps debating whether I told the truth or not. “How do we know you won’t try to kill us?”
I held my hands a little higher. “I have no weapons.”
The first guard grabbed my collar. He searched my clothes. I held my breath.
