Pixieland Diaries

Day Five and a Half (Not sure the ‘new me’ stuff is working out)

Day Five and a Half (Not sure the ‘new me’ stuff is working out)

Dear Diary,

For a long minute, I just stare at the box. This is it. Dare’s eighteen. That’s makes him of age to marry. In other words, Dare could name his future bride any second now. Sure, princes of the winter realm normally marry other elves—and royal ones at that—but I’m both a faeling and super-awesome. That puts me in a separate category.

Why wouldn’t Dare pick me?

Sure, the guy still thinks of me as a kid, but that can’t last forever. And I’m totally fine with waiting until I’m eighteen to marry. Considering how I’m now basically sixteen, eighteen is pretty much around the corner. I can handle a long engagement, no problem.

I nod once to myself. Yes, this is the moment. Inside this box, there’s definitely a commitment ring along with another note asking, marry me?

My pulse speeds. Little by little, I pull the top off the box. Leaning forward, I check out the contents.

What’s inside isn’t exactly a ring.

Nope.

It’s a tiny yellow snake.

Which is a totally odd gift.

Okay, this is a little weird, but Dare’s a winter fae. They do strange stuff all the time. It’s true that snakes are more of a summer fae thingy, but there must be snow-friendly snakes, right?

I lift my chin. This might still work out. Maybe the snake has the ring on its forked tongue or something. That would be skewed but acceptable. I’m not picky.

The serpent slithers out of the box, down my bedside table, and onto the floor. From there, it expands in size, all while staying an annoying shade of yellow. I frown. The colors of the winter realm are black and white. Time was, summer fae loved red (that was Tristan’s favorite color). But Lazare adores yellow, so everything summer has been that shade for ages.

Long story short, it’s not a good sign that this snake remains the same color as sunshine. That said, my room is lit by candles. Yellow could be a trick of the light. My snake present might actually be winter white.

Yes, that’s it. Winter white.

The serpent coils higher. Once we’re at eye level, a hood expands behind its head. Now it’s clear this isn’t just any serpent. It’s a cobra. Even worse, there’s a definite sun symbol on the back of its hood. I pound my fists onto my coverlet.

What a disaster.

Still, I’m girl enough to admit it. This isn’t a proposal from Dare. Nope. It’s some kind of assassination attempt from Lazare.

So disappointing.

The sun cobra sways from side to side.

I hold up my hand in the universal movement for stop. “I need a sec.”

The snake halts in place. I think it’s more out of shock than anything else, but I’m still glad for the break. This is a definite bummer. Even so, I must move on. A killer snake now slithers around my bedroom. I’m not shocked—Lazare is a total creep who hates me—yet still. The serpent must be taken down.

Time to focus.

Straightening my shoulders, I glare at my scaly assassin. “Look, I’ll give you a chance here. Take off. Slither back into your little cosmic box and go home.” Seriously. Sun cobras are a level one spell. I could kill this thing in my sleep. “You’ve no idea who you’re dealing with.”

The cobra opens its overlong mouth. “Pixxxxxie.”

“Yes, I am a pixie but I’m also faeling. That makes me really-really-really powerful.”

“Liesssss,” hisses the snake.

Crud. My snake assassin has a point. Most faeling are super weak in the magic department. I was hoping this cobra would be uninformed. No such luck.

Which leaves one last thing to try.

I raise my right hand. Magic whirs within me all the time. Now I focus that power into a sphere of pink light that hovers over my palm. “Last chance. No namby pamby fairy dust here. This is a magical orb, dude. Slither off.”

“No! Ugly pixxxxxxie will die!”

“That does it. Nobody calls me ugly.”

I picture what I want my magic to do. Instantly, the sphere whizzes across the room. As the sun cobra lunges for me, my magical orb slams right into the serpent, freezing it in place.

Sun cobra, meet freezing time.

Now for the good stuff.

I imagine my next spell. Another sphere appears. This time it morphs into my favorite magical creature. It’s a little spell of my own design, too.

My little bunny-saurus.

Sure enough, a tiny bunny T-Rex appears on my upturned palm. Pink, of course. It comes complete with a furry head, bunny ears and a mouth that’s lined with razor-sharp teeth. From the neck down, it also has a T-Rex body that’s covered in pink fur instead of scales. And as a final touch, there’s a fluffy cottontail.

Cute and deadly, just like me.

My little bunny-saurus focuses its beady red eyes on me. “What you want?” it asks in a gravelly voice.

I nod toward the cobra. “Kill the snake.”

Bunny-saurus growls. “Too easy.”

It takes me a second to realize what the creature means. Then, I get it. The sun snake is still frozen in place, mouth open, fangs out, and ready to attack. Bunny-saurus likes a challenge.

“No problem.”

I snap my fingers; the sun cobra springs back to life. Fast as a heartbeat, the snake lunges for me. Bunny-saurus is much faster.

My creation leaps off my hand and latches onto the cobra’s tail. Bunny-saurus shakes its head from side to side, whipping the cobra across my room.

Wham! The serpent’s head slams into the wall.

Thud! Its skull mashes into the floor.

Whump! The ceiling.

Boom! My bedside table.

In short order, the sun cobra serpent is limp. And by that, I mean it’s totally dead.

Now comes the yucky part. Dinnertime for Bunny-saurus.

This is ugly stuff, so I silently whistle while staring at the ceiling. Sadly, there’s no missing the slurpy-chomping noises as Bunny-saurus munches away. A little burp sounds, which is the signal it’s all over.

I refocus on Bunny-saurus once more. “Thank you.”

My creature lets out another little belch. “Yummy snake.”

“That was a lot of information. Thanks, Bun!”

I snap my fingers once more; Bunny-saurus disappears. Sadly, my room is a total disaster. The side table’s overturned. Scales lie embedded in the wall. Entrails cover the floor.

Eew.

Pulling on my magic, I summon another pink sphere of power. This time, I imagine the magic becoming pink birds and some matching mice. When it comes to mess removal, I straight-up follow fairy tale tradition. Birds and mice clean up everything.

A knock sounds on my door. “What’s wrong?” It’s Muti.

I pop my hand over my mouth. Dang, I forgot all about her and Poppa. Whipping a sun cobra around my room must have caused a major racket. My parents sleep really soundly, but even that has limits.

“Nothing,” I reply brightly. “Just practicing some magic.”

Poppa’s reedy voice echoes in from another floor. After all, it’s an oversized sprite house, but it’s still an acorn.

“What’s she up to?” calls Poppa.

“Calla says she’s practicing magic,” cries Muti.

“Tell her she’s supposed to do that at the citadel.”

Muti’s voice echoes through the closed door. “You’re supposed to do that at the citadel.”

“Got it. You can both go back to sleep now.”

I hear Muti’s creaky wings flapping as she takes off. Then, Muti pauses. “Were you practicing anything evil?”

“Sure. My bunny-saurus.”

When Muti speaks again, there’s no missing the joy in her voice. “Oh, that’s so cruel and bloodthirsty of you. Have an awful night, dear.”

“You as well.”

By this point, my little bird and mouse friends have finished their work. Snapping my fingers, I make them vanish a puff of pink smoke. In fact, I’m ready to fall asleep for reals when the scar on my palm glows white.

Like snow.

The winter court.

And the color of Prince Darius’s magic.

This is an old signal between us, by the way. Basically, Darius is saying, may I appear to you? We have matching scars on our palms that empower us to talk over distances. The spell has a catch, though. You have to accept the other person in order to see each other and have a magical chat.

This is another big decision.

Before approving Dare’s visit, I must check something very important: How I look. Fortunately, I’m wearing cute pink pajamas with a matching silk robe. Totally Dare-ready.

I whisper onto my palm. “You may visit.”

Dear Diary,

The last time I started a new page was a bust because it wasn’t a proposal from Dare the snake thing happened. So this time I’m starting another fresh sheet for the sake of neatness. It definitely has nothing to do with Dare.

-Calla