Gold Dust

Chapter 1

I tread carefully so he doesn’t scurry away like the last one. That could have ended badly. I’m a professional though, I took care of it. But this time I’m hoping not to have to play cat and mouse around the woods in the dead of night. This one is completely clueless. It’s a design flaw that they leave gold dust sprinkled in their wake. They are easily hunted. By me. And me alone.

     A branch cracks under my foot and I smack my back behind a tree. He’s turns around at the sound. His footsteps stop. I wait until they start again and peer around the trunk. I draw an arrow from my quiver and slot it carefully in my bow. I let out a relaxed breath and shoot. The arrow pierces straight through his back and he explodes into a beautiful cloud of gold dust. The moonlight reflects off the shimmering speckles. It is a spectacular sight. A sight only I see. It’s enough to bring a tear to your eye. But not my eye. I run into the golden mist and open my satchel under it. If only dust was easier to collect.

     Once I seem to have caught as much as I can, I scoop up the dry dirt which is speckled with the shimmering flakes and add it to my satchel. It’s a good job this stuff is worth a lot. Picking it out must be a nightmare but no one seems to complain. They’re just glad it’s not them out here collecting the goods.

     My arrow is stuck in a tree a few feet away. It’s completely clean. I yank it out and slide it back into my quiver. I never waste my arrows. I scan my surroundings and find nothing. Time to head back. My satchel bounces against my hip as I walk and I can hear the dirt shaking around inside. The speckles that coat my shoulders leave a light trail behind me as the air brushes them away, like I, too, am the thing that I hunt.

     My name is Aria Delloway and I’m a Pixie hunter. Yes, you heard right. I hunt Pixies. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it. Seriously, someone’s got to do it. And it’s only me who has the guts. And the brains. The Shifters used to take care of the Pixies for us, until they were chased out of the town by an angry mob with knives and pitchforks. They think that there is no room for magic here. They are wrong. Magic is necessary. Well, that kind of magic is. Are Pixies magical? I guess you could say that. They have certain talents that could be considered magical. Like ‘glamour’. They can glamour a human and make them see whatever they want them to see. They can’t manipulate our minds, though. Just our eyes. That’s how they blend in with us. They make us see them as human beings. Yet there is a slight flaw. We can still see the gold dust and the golden rings in their irises. I guess from hundreds of years of fooling humans, we have somehow evolved to resist part of the effect of their glamour.

     So, the Shifters left us. They were only one family but they had the effect of an army. I grew close to their son, Bramble. He is the same age as me. We haven’t spoken since he ran away. I hope he’s okay.

     The people of my town don’t fully understand the Pixies. Well, that’s not true. They are just ignorant. They choose not to see what is happening right in front of them. My dad was taken by a Pixie and used as a blood tribute. Drank completely dry. My mum died trying to save him. It’s just me and my brother now.

I push open the stiff, disjointed door of our house. It scrapes across the floor making a piercing screech echo around the walls.

     Dillon is sat by the log fire, staring into it with his back to me.

     “Successful?” he asks, not looking away from the flames.

     “Two down,” I reply, dropping my satchel on the table top.

     “And how many more to go?” He finally turns around. His face is red from the warmth of the fire.

     I sigh. “Not a clue.”

     “In a way, I hope there’s still some out there.” He picks himself up and crosses the room to me. The knees of his britches are black with dirt and there are brown smudges down his shirt where he has clearly wiped his hands on himself. He brushes the remaining dust off my shoulders and back. I can feel it tangled in my hair but I can’t be bothered picking it out.

     “How do you mean?” I ask.

     He flips open my satchel and takes a look inside, raising his eyebrows and nodding his head approvingly.

     “Well, you are the main provider for this family. I don’t get much for my squirrels and rabbits.”

     “True,” I say with a smile to show that I am being in no way conceited. It was the truth and we both know it. Our parents passed away two years ago and with me being the eldest, I needed a way to be able to put food on the table. Collecting gold dust was an excellent way. And it also helped me channel the anger I have built up inside me after my parents’ lives were cruelly snatched away. “I’ll jar it up and give is to Dr. Kelts tomorrow.” I stretch out a yawn, “I’m so tired.”

     “Me too,” Dillon replies in mid-yawn. “I thought I’d stay up until you got back though. To make sure you were okay.”

We both strip down to our underclothes and dive under our covers. Our beds are placed on either side of the fire. Our dirty clothes lie in a pile between us.

     “I’ll wash them tomorrow,” Dillon murmurs into his pillow, looking over at me. The light of the fire dances on his face, making his cheek bones look as sharp as glass.

     “Okay.” I smile with heavy lids and pull my thin cover further up my shoulders. My bow and quiver are placed securely under my bed. I always put them there. There is no way I’m going to let them take Dillon away from me, too.

There is a c***k in our shutter which streams a beam of light right into my face every morning. It’s like my own little wake up call. I groan and flip my legs over the side of my bed. My eyes itch. The gold dust has made its way onto my eyelashes. As I flutter them, the flecks rain down my face. I tip-toe to my closet and find myself a clean outfit. I shrug on a greyish shirt which I’m sure was once white, and a pair of dark britches. One of my toes pokes out of a hole in my sock but it’s gone numb with the cold so it doesn’t bother me.

     Dillon is still fast asleep as I check the cupboards for breakfast. I take out a bread roll, split it in two and place it on the table. A triangle slice of brie sits next to it. It’s not much but I’ll be able to buy something better for dinner once I’ve sold the gold dust.

“How long have you been up?” Dillon groans, stretching his arms over his head.

     “About an hour,” I reply, sticking my thumb into the table surface to collect the last crumbs of my half of the roll.

     He sits up, rubs his eyes, then pads over to the table. He plonks down on the seat opposite me and grabs the other half, spreading the rest of the brie onto it with a blunt knife.

     “So, you go to Dr. Kelts and I’ll wash the clothes. Then we can go to the market together and grab something for dinner?” he asks, spitting out crumbs all over himself.

     “Sounds like a plan.”

     I pull on my soft leather jacket and head over to the counter where I have funnelled the mixture of dust and dirt into three jam jars. I place them carefully in my satchel, separating them with two cloths so they don’t clatter together, then head for the door. I shove on my boots that sit beside it.

     “I’ll see you later.” I turn back. He has the knife in his mouth, l*****g off the cheese.

     “Bye,” he replies then heads for the sink.

     Before leaving, I quickly grab my hat and shove it on, tucking my hair into it so no one sees the gold dust that I can feel still roaming around in it.

     If I get caught, it’d be all over. I have very few clients and I have built an absolute trust with each one of them. Because what I give them is extremely valuable. Sure, people can brush the stuff off the floor but it would take them months to collect as much as I can in a night.

     Pixies live among us. Everyone knows it. Nobody cares. When boys and men go missing, they think they’ve ran away or assume the Shifters have come back and are taking them to spite us. They always thought that it was them who took the men. No matter how many times my family told them they were wrong. The Pixies are the ones we should fear, not the Shifters.

     I push the door open to Dr. Kelts’ apothecary shop. The top corner of it knocks against a bell which chimes and brings his attention to me. He smiles and nods, then turns back to the woman in front of the counter. She’s small with dark hair. Streaks of silver run through it. I notice her slightly hunched back and instantly know who it is. Fiss. She works at the markets and sells a different kind of broth every day. I was planning on buying some after I got paid.

     “This should help him,” Dr. Kelts says, placing a comforting hand on her feeble shoulder.

She nods, pays, and places a small bottle of something in her bag then turns around, finding me.

     “Oh, hello dear. I didn’t hear you come in,” she says. No wonder. She’s partially deaf.

     “Hi, Fiss.” I smile and step to the side, allowing her to leave. “I’ll be dropping by your stall later.”

     “Oh!” She gleams, “I’ll see you later then, dear.”

     I hold the door open for her as she wobbles out.

     I push the door shut behind her and step up to the counter.

     “How many have you got for me this time?” says Dr. Kelts.

     “Two today.” I begin to take out the jars, placing them on the counter. I could lie and say more because there is no possible way he could work out how much dust comes from a Pixie. But trust is a two-way street. He quickly swipes them and places them on a shelf under the counter. I bundle the cloths and place them back in my satchel. The clink of coins brings my eyes back to the counter. Two gold coins and a dozen silver ones sit in a pile. My forehead wrinkles and I tap on the silvers.

     “I said two, that’s two gold.” I begin to push the silvers back towards him but he places his hand on mine, stopping me. I look from his hairy knuckles to his face. There is a sombre look in his blue eyes.

     “For your trouble,” he says.

     I smile. “It’s no trouble.”

     “I fear for your safety, Aria. Out there in the woods alone-”

     “I’m fine,” I assure him.

     “Okay, so, you don’t want the tip?” He raises an eyebrow with a smile.

     “No, no.” I lift my hand a little, making his return to his side. “I’ll take it.” I grin and push the coins into a pile before cupping them and dropping them into a pocket in my satchel.

     “I thought so,” he laughs lightly.

     “What’s up with Fiss?”

     “Her nephew’s got a fever,” he replies.

     I nod and turn to the door.

     “Aria?”

     I look back.

     “Why don’t you bring Dillon into the woods with you? At least you won’t be alone.”

     “I didn’t say it wasn’t dangerous.”

     He stumbles on his words as I open the door.

     “Well... you be careful, Aria.”

     “I’m always careful,” I assure him and step out.

I dislodge the floorboard under my bed and find the dusty old bag.

     “He gave you a tip?” Dillon asks, watching me from his bed.

     “Yep.” I smile and drop the coins in with the rest then tighten the string around the neck of the bag and push it back under the floor.

     “So, more money to store and never use,” he huffs.

     I slide the floorboard back into place then sit on my bed. “We can’t go around spending it all on luxuries. People will be suspicious.”

     He rolls his eyes and drops his back across the width of the bed. “We’re rich but we have to live like we’re poor. It’s not fair.”

     I sigh. “If we could spend the money, what would you buy anyway?”

     “A decent meal.”

     “You’re not starving, Dillon.”

     My brother is seventeen, two years younger than me and he has an extremely strong physique. He sometimes helps the lumberjacks down by the lake. I figured that’s where he’s got his muscles from.

     “I know,” he huffs, “but it would be nice if we could spoil ourselves a little.”

     I pause to think. “Well, I told Fiss I’d go to her stall and get some of her broth today, but tomorrow we could go down to the butchers to get some proper meat.”

     “Mmm proper meat.”

     I scowl at him. He moves his head a little so he can peer over his shoulder at me.

     “I’m sorry,” he laughs. “I guess actual meat will be a big step up from all the gristle that Fiss uses.”

     “Don’t be mean, Dillon. She has a large family. I want to support her as much as I can. Her nephew’s sick, did you know?”

     “Well.” He slaps his hands down on his bed and lifts himself up, propping himself on his elbows. “To the disgusting broth, then?”

     I roll my eyes and smile. “To the broth.”

     He jumps to his feet and I count the silvers I pocketed from the bag under the floorboard. I’ve got ten and a handful of coppers. More than enough. No need to exchange the gold.

I always deal in silver when I go shopping. News would spread fast if two orphans like us were walking around with gold coins. Luckily, one of my clients works in a big tailoring house. She uses the gold dust to weave into the fabric. Its gives her dresses an extra special shine. She’s rich so I trade my gold coins for her silvers.

I grab my satchel and place our biggest pot carefully inside.

     “The lid.” Dillon grabs it from the cupboard and places it on the pot.

     Last time I had forgotten it and ended up walking home with an open pot of broth. When I finally reached our door, half of it had spilled out.

    We both head out and down the road to the market. It’s always busy on a weekend so we have to squeeze past the crowds of people. Most of them are mothers collecting tonight’s dinner. It was hard the first time Dillon and I came here after our parents died. We felt so out of place. All eyes were on us. People whispered and gave us strange looks. Of course, they didn’t believe me when I told them that it was a Pixie’s doing. They thought I had gone crazy when I told them I saw it with my own eyes. They told me that it was a Shifter. But how could they possibly know that? They weren’t there. I was.

__________#__________

It was summer so the nights were light. My father and I went out into the woods to collect some herbs for Dr. Kelts. Our friendship had formed even before I started collecting the gold dust. My father told me that he had spotted some rare herbs by a tree not far from where we were so he told me to stay and continue to pick what Dr. Kelts had asked for.

As I was bent down, pocketing the pretty looking white flowers, I heard a scream. My father’s scream. My head bounced up and fear gripped around my heart like an ice-cold fist as I searched for him. It was such a horrific sound. Something I had never heard escape my father’s lips but I knew it came from him. I could feel it in my gut.

     I ran towards where my father had gone. My heart sank when I found his discarded pouch filled with his herbs.

     “Aria!” I heard him call.

     “Father!” I screamed, pivoting, trying to find where his voice came from.

     A flash of red caught my eye not too far away. It seemed so alien within the earthy colours of the woods. I darted after it.

     “Father!” I screamed once more. The wave of red flashed again then disappeared completely. It literally vanished into thin air.

     My lungs felt tight and I collapsed onto the ground. Tears burned the backs of my eyes and streamed down my face. I was shaking profusely even under the night’s sun. I started choking on my tears. Coughing and spluttering. I clenched my eyes shut and reached out and clutched a handful of grass as if for some kind of support. But the grass felt strange. My eyes flickered open. Everything was blurry. My eyelids fluttered until my tears left and my vision was restored. Dust covered the grass in my hand. I let go of it and brought my hand to my face. Gold dust glimmered over my skin.

     I pushed myself up to my feet and scoped the ground. A trail of dust sprinkled across the grass in the direction of the red flash. Gold dust. Pixie dust.

     Terror struck me like a bolt of lightning. I ran home. My mother and Dillon were sat boiling something by the fire and both jumped to their feet as the door slammed open. My mother rushed over to me and tried to hug me but I pushed her away.

     “They took him,” I cried in a fit of hysterics.

     “What? Who did? What happened, Aria?” My mother’s eyes were wide as she stared down at me.

     “They took father. The Pixies. He’s gone.” I almost fell to the floor but my mother grabbed my arms.

     “What? Where have they taken him?” she panicked.

     “We were in the woods...there’s a trail of gold dust...I should have followed them but...” I felt like I was going to faint. The room was tilting. I caught Dillon’s eyes. His body was stiff and the colour had run out of his face.

     “Dillon.” My mother turned around to him.“Take care of your sister.”

     She let go of me and I stumble forwards, slamming into Dillon who wrapped his arms tight around me, keeping me stable.

     “Wh-where are you going?” Dillon’s voice quaked as my mother rushed to the door.

     “To get your father back,” she said before slamming the door behind her.

     Neither of them ever returned.

__________#__________

“Oh, dear, you came!” Fiss’ grey eyes light up when she sees me.

     “I said I would.” I smile and approach her stall.

     She smiles showing her yellowing teeth. “Have you brought your pot, dear?”

     “Yes,” I reply and pull it out of my satchel. I place it down by her huge cauldron of steaming broth.

      She begins to ladle up the broth and pour it in. “It’s a mixture of everything today, dear.”

      I hear Dillon huff beside me but I don’t think Fiss heard. She looks up at him after a few ladles.

     “I’ll fill it up to the brim for you. A strong young man like you needs as much as he can get.” She winks. Dillon’s eyes widen and he blushes a little. “Ah yes, you need to get a lot of decent grub down you.”

     He turns to me and raises an eyebrow. “Hear that, Aria? I need decent grub.”

     I scowl at him.

     “There you go, dearies,” she says, sliding the lid back on our pot.

     “Thank you so much, Fiss.” I smile and Dillon takes the pot.

     She nods, “a silver as always, dear.”

     I hand her three.

     “I said one, dear.”

     “I know. It’s for your nephew. I hope he gets better.”

     Her face scrunches up as if she’s about to burst into tears. She waddles round her stall and grabs me, pulling me down towards her and wrapping her thin arms around me. I hold my breath after I get a whiff of rotten vegetables.

     “Oh you’re a good’en, Aria, you really are. Bless you!”

     “It’s no problem, really,” I say as I finally exhale.

     She lets go of me and waddles back round behind her stall, gleaming. “Well, you two have a great day!”

     “You too, Fiss.”

When we get back home, Dillon places the pot over the hearth to warm it up and I take a bath with the water I had boiled over the morning. It’s cooled down a little by the time I pour it in so I undress and climb straight in.

     I dunk my head under then lift it out. The gold dust that had made home in my hair now floats about on the water. I finally feel clean. I drop my head back and rest it on the edge of the bath and close my eyes. My pulse drums in my ears from my rise in body temperature but the sound soothes me. I wash myself with soap then dry myself off. I wrap my wet hair into a bun on top of my head and secure it with a band. Once I’ve redressed, I go to find Dillon at the table.

     He nods to the bowl at the opposite end of the table.

     “Thanks.” I smile and take my seat.

     We sit in silence for a while, sipping at the obscure tasting broth.

     “I’ve washed the clothes, they should be dry now,” Dillon finally says.

     “Okay, great.” I nod. “Ready for school tomorrow?”

     “I guess.” He shrugs.