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CHAPTER FIFTEEN: NO GOOD DEED
Lifting a heavy hand to her temple, Pix woke up with a splitting headache. It felt like a horde of drunken trolls were stomping around her skull. What had happened? Though it hurt to do so, she opened her eyes. Blinking against the peeks of sunlight streaming in between the heavily canopied trees, it all started to come back to her. Getting lost in the woods. Getting caught by Den. Granny Redd’s house. Getting attacked by Scarlet’s new axe-wielding boyfriend. And the transportation spell she’d used as a last-ditch, desperate escape attempt. She gingerly touched the bruise she could feel bloom on her cheek and hissed.
Well, she wasn’t tied up or imprisoned, so it must have worked, right? She sat up and looked around. She still didn’t know where she was, but she was definitely still in the forest. Where was she? She wracked her mind; where had she wanted the spell to take them?
Them!
She looked around. Where was everyone? Lethe, Slyth, Den. The prince! If she lost him, she lost her one chance at revenge, at redemption. She shut her eyes and wanted to scream. Her aunt would never let her hear the end of it.
“Lethe and Slyth took the little princeling off to get water. I sent them away from my pack’s hunting grounds, so hopefully no one will spot them.”
Pix turned at the sound of Den’s gravelly voice. She saw the wounded wolf, cradling her arm as she rested against a gnarled tree. Pix scrambled to her feet and rushed to Den. “Boggy gob, you look awful,” Pix told her as she took in the dried blood matting Den’s fur at her side, on her arms, and all over her face.
“Aw, thanks,” Den purred sarcastically. “You always did have the most wonderful way with words.” Den grunted as she tried to sit up more. “And, to make matters worse, you have the audacity to look fresh as a blooming daisy! Well, not all of us got to sleep for more than half a day, Miss Wings.” She sneered as Pix examined the worrying knife wound at her side. “Some of us have been running through this forest all night, trying to lose that huntsman’s tail.”
Pix scoffed as she studied the blood still oozing from the cut. “Yeah, I’m sure I look just gorgeous with this bruise I can feel throbbing on my face thanks to your ex’s new protector.”
Den hissed as Pix touched the still bleeding injury. “You’re always beautiful; even black and blue looks good on you.” Den held her hands out in peace as Pix gently smacked her uninjured shoulder. “I am sorry about that. I never meant for you to get hurt.” She huffed and scowled. “Of course Scarlet’s new beau would be a frogging tracker. Her grandmother must be so pleased.”
Pix shook her head. “We have to stop the bleeding.” An open wound was a bad idea if you were trying to move in a hurry. And leaving a trail of blood, while someone was following you, was a death sentence. “I just need my wand.” Pix swallowed hard, trying to still her shaking hands and calm her throbbing head as she shut her eyes and called for her magic.
Den looked at her worriedly and shook her head. “You left it in Scarlet’s room. I saw it roll under the bed.”
Pix grunted and forced her mind to focus. “It’s my wand.” She dug deep inside herself, hating how hard she had to try, when it should have been as easy as breathing. “It is always exactly where I want it.” It took more effort than she would have liked, but she eventually pulled the wand to her through time and space and into her hand. There. That wasn’t so hard. Wiping sweat from her brow, she whispered her will onto the wind, causing the wand to shrink in her palm to the size of a needle. Feeling the magic strengthen her, even as it drained the little energy she’d only just gained back, she breathed slowly and pierced Den’s side with the tiny, sharp point.
Den sucked in a harsh breath but didn’t move as the needle wove its way over her wound, holding the wound close with invisible thread. Under all that blood-matted fur, Pix couldn’t be sure, but she’d bet the wolf’s skin was pale and ashen, drawn tight with pain. Pix coughed and tried to work as quickly and carefully as she could. “So,” Pix asked Den, smirking to hide her horror as she stitched the two torn sides of flesh together, “that’s who you left me for?” Den let out a sputtered laugh, recognizing the echo of her same words last night, and Pix felt something tight inside herself relax. Sometimes a joke could be the only thing standing between sanity and panic, and Pix desperately needed something to as she stared at Den’s blood staining her hands red and the scent of it threatening to swallow her. She gave a dramatic tsk. “Sometimes I’d wonder who you ended up with; never thought you’d choose some snobby, little cottage-set with a taste for the wrong side of the path.”
“Yeah, well,” Den growled as she grunted against the pain, “I think I’m frogging well paying for it now, don’t you think?” Sighing, Den shook her head. “Besides, it’s not what you think. Scarlet isn’t like those pampered princesses. Isn’t some hoity-toity heiress, just twiddling her thumbs until she can sink her manicured claws into Granny’s company. She doesn’t even want to take over the business. She’s an explorer at heart. We used to run wild all over these woods. Her territory, mine, it didn’t matter as long as we were together.” Den frowned and looked off a little dreamily as Pix finished up her last stitch. “Last time we talked, we’d planned to run away together. Find our own land. She was going to go home and pack some things for the trip, but she never came back.” She shook her head. “This isn’t right. She would never just leave me like that. And for him!” Bristling, Den tried to stand up, only to be pushed back down by Pix. “I have to go back. I have to talk to her.”
Pix, so much smaller than Den and not quite back at her peak, struggled to keep the wolf seated. “You’re in no condition to deal with those woodsmen.” They had barely escaped last night; this morning, Den wouldn’t stand a chance. “They’ll kill you the moment you enter Granny’s territory.”
Den turned to her. “But you could just use that spell from last night to transport us into Scarlet’s room.”
Pix shook her head. “I barely had enough magic to stitch you up. Even if I could somehow get us into her room—which I can’t do until I get more of my strength back—there’s absolutely no way I could get us back out.” They’d be sitting ducks.
Den nodded, acknowledging. “Okay, okay, so we wait. What? Like, a couple of hours. We head back tonight. We’ll be gone before anyone can notice.”
Pix squeezed her eyes shut. Den wasn’t listening to her. Though Pix could hardly be surprised. Once she got an idea in her head, Den couldn’t let it go, couldn’t be reasoned with. “Den, I—”
Den reached out and grabbed one of Pix’s hands. “Please, Pixy,” she begged with wide, sad eyes. “I need you.”
“For what?”
They both turned to see Fallon, holding a bucket, his expression irritated.
***
Fallon couldn’t possibly have heard them correctly. He must have misheard. There was no way they were foolish enough to want to head back toward the people that wanted them both dead. The wolf? Maybe. It seemed reckless enough to charge in half-cocked and bleeding. But Pix? She might be many things—conniving, meddling, ruthless—but she was no one’s fool. Which was why Fallon could not understand why she let this wolf talk her into such trouble. He looked at the darkened bruise on her cheek and felt his jaw tense.
“For what?” he repeated, bringing the bucket of water closer. He thrust it toward her. “You should drink.” She’d been unconscious for hours—just this tiny, unmoving, helpless bundle in his arms as they raced deeper and deeper in the forest—she needed food and water and possibly more rest. The last thing she needed was that wolf whispering foolhardy plots and schemes in her ear.
Pix took the bucket he handed her and stared at him in confusion. “You came back.”
He felt his face flush a bit. Yeah, part of him could barely believe it either. Her binding spell had dropped. She’d been unconscious, powerless to stop him. Not even her wolf, injured and running, could have kept him, if he chose to go. So why didn’t he? He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well,” he said as he nodded at Lethe, “this one promised to poke out my eyes, if I ran.” He jutted his chin out at the snake slithering around his feet. “And this one threatened to bite me.” He shrugged, as if that was that. As if it had nothing to do with hating the idea of not knowing if Pix would ever wake up from the seemingly deathly sleep she’d been in all night. As if, if it not for his tiny woodland keepers, he could have walked away from her, taking advantage of her moment of weakness to return to the castle, and never spared her another thought. He coughed. “How are you feeling?”
“You look awful,” Lethe said fluttering closer to look at Pix’s face.
Waving the bird away, Pix took a sip from the bucket, almost choking on the sour well’s water. She swallowed hard. “I’m,” she said, trying not to cough, “fine.” She passed the bucket to the wolf, who drank thirstily. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Fallon scoffed. Sure, she was fine. Nevermind that they’d been running for their lives all night. Who wouldn’t be fine after that? He shook his head. “Then I would suggest we get out of these woods as quickly as possible, before those men catch up with us.”
The wolf nodded. “He’s right.” Pix did a double-take at that. Fallon had to admit that he was surprised too; he hadn’t thought the wolf was capable of reason. “You should get out while you can.” Taking one more gulp of water, the wolf pushed upright. “I’ll lead you two out of the forest.”
“That’s…” the snake said, slithering closer to Pix, “unexpectedly kind of you.”
The wolf stretched gingerly. “A promise is a promise.”
Pix frowned. “And then what?”
Twisting one way then the other, the wolf shook its head. “Then you’ll go on your way.”
Pix stood. “What about you?”
With a wince, the wolf frowned. “I can’t leave without her.”
Pix’s wings fluttered with frustration. “They’ll kill you, if you go back.”
The wolf shrugged, leaning against the tree as it clutched its side. “I can’t leave without her.”
This was ridiculous. Fallon glared at Pix. “We can’t go back.” Definitely not in the state they were in. He pointed at the wolf. “You’re bleeding and can barely stand.” He turned toward Pix. “And you look like a stiff breeze would blow you over.”
Pix’s wings twitched as her shoulders tensed. “I’m,” she said slowly through gritted teeth, “fine.”
No, she wasn’t! She was tiny and fragile and no match for those massive men. The thought of her at their mercy… He shook his head. “You need to rest.”
She flicked her wrist and he felt his jaw stiffen like stone, silencing him. “I’m not one of your precious, little princesses. I don’t need anyone telling me what I need.” Fallon saw her face pale and her hand shake, even as she stared him down. He shouldn’t worry about her. She was tiny and fragile, but she was also right; she wasn’t helpless. She had power. Looking at her now, there was no denying that, no matter what, she would defend herself to her last breath. But, in this moment, as sweat glistened on her brow, she looked like she was about to pass out. Determined, she swallowed hard and planted her feet. “Understand?”
He nodded, because he did understand. He’d spent his entire life trying to be brave enough, strong enough, always sure that he wasn’t. Haunted by his own failure all those years ago, he knew what it was like to feel as if you had to constantly push past your limits to prove yourself. The last thing she needed was him pushing her too. So he nodded and stayed quiet, when she released him and sank back onto the grassy ground. She huffed with a satisfied nod. “We can’t do anything until nightfall,” she said as she leaned against the tree and shut her eyes. “We’ll have a better chance of losing them in the dark.” And, with that, she fell asleep again, clearly drained.
“You’re right.”
Fallon looked up at the wolf, who was studying him. “About what?”
“She needs to rest.” The wolf’s eyes softened when it looked at her. “She’s so strong—makes everything look so easy—that sometimes I forget that she can’t do everything.”
Fallon was struck by the genuine caring in the wolf’s tender gaze. He coughed. “So,” he said as casually as possible, “you two were together?”
The wolf gave a groaning laugh as it held its injured side. “A long time ago.”
“She left you less than a year ago,” Slyth hissed.
“Though, to be fair,” Lethe added, “I’m pretty sure you’d left her long before that.”
“But there’s still no one I’d rather have at my side in a tight spot.” The wolf sighed. “Truth is, I knew she was too good for me.” Frowning, she sighed. “I’m a wild ride. A crazy adventure, at best.” Tucking a stray strand of hair behind Pix’s ear, the wolf smiled at her. “She has this grand destiny. I couldn’t stay knowing that I was never going to do anything but be in her way.”
Fallon couldn’t help but feel bad for the wolf. Sitting down, he reached out his hand. “We never officially met. I’m Fallon.”
The wolf raised her eyebrow at him. “I know who you are, princeling.”
“You know my title, wolf,” he pointed out, still holding out his hand, knowing she knew exactly what it felt like to be seen only as what you are and not who you are.
The wolf nodded, acknowledgingly. “Fair enough.” She took his hand in hers. “Hello, Fallon. I’m Den. Nice to meet you.”
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