“Stop this!” Spicer called, stepping forward, “We are not here for your mirth.”
All the Fairies’ heads snapped in Spicer direction and they looked him up and down, their eyes narrowing. Some dropped to the floor to march up and down, others saluted. Some jousted with one another.
“A Yossarian, Elf warrior, killer blood,” they whispered to each other, “travelling with the storyteller box, protect the traitor, stand up for those that should lay down.”
“Where is Elephantine? Why doesn’t he show himself?” Pinkerton asked the professor.
“The box. They want the representative, the proxy, the collective,” the Fairy said. “Take it, show them.”
They started to pull at Teddy to drag him towards the rookery.
“Should I give them the box?” Teddy asked.
“Take it to the mound,” Rickenbacker sugges
