Playing with Fire

4

I came to find out that the man's name was Joshua but he was known as Mouse. He was a quiet man - a nervous man - jittery and paranoid as if there was someone just shy of tying a noose around his neck.

I'd led him to the gazebo where he was meant to gather the pillows and rug that'd been too unrestorable to keep and haul them to the fire pit.

"Do you-" His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "Do you know why they're so..." he trailed off, waving his hand to gesture vaguely around us. "Twittery?"

I turned to stare at the main house. It was a looming tower of glass, the branches of three oak trees interweaving meticulously in, out, and around the structure. I imagined the pixies in the kitchens gossiping excitedly at the news as they kneaded the dough or the sprites that sped here and there to spread the headlines. In fact, I couldn't imagine any Fae in Poppy Grove that wouldn't have the topic of the Elder Tree's messenger on their mouths.

I'd been there when the Master had received the letter from a newly inducted sprite. I'd seen the quirk of a smile out of the corner of my eye as he ignored the sprite that chattered on and on about the honor of delivering to the Commander and how it was his first job as a messenger and how, 'Have you heard the news? The whole city is buzzing about the golem-'

I'd wondered, briefly, what the Master had found amusing until I felt the splatter of warm blood on my face.

The sprite had been decapitated.

"The Elder Tree has chosen the final participant to undergo the Trials of Fire," I said. Mouse looked at me questioningly and I shook my head. "It has nothing to do with us." With humans. It was a Fae matter that required no excitement from mediocrity.

He didn't inquire further and instead, eyed the numerous scorch marks that littered the area. 

"When you're done, make your way to the kitchens. There'll be things there that you'll have to take to the fire pit as well. It'll be just inside the doorway. Don't talk to the pixies - they will kill you for it."

He nodded, kneeling next to a particularly scorched section and gathering the pillows in his arms.

I opened my mouth to warn him of something else - the memory of the headless sprite flashing through my head - but I hesitated.

If he had a contract with the Master then it was useless. A warning was wasted on a man whose days were numbered.

~

The woman was waiting for me in the library. Her hands were folded neatly in front of her. Her hair was combed into a low ponytail. She looked cleaner, warmer, livelier save for her eyes. They still stared through me as if I weren't really there.

My explanation was short - do as she was told. There was only one pixie that managed the library and he'd taken up residence in the makeshift loft above the history section in the far corner for as long as I'd known him. Pixies were generally short-tempered, cut-throat heathens. Limiting your interactions with any of them gave you the best chance at keeping your life.

Fraxus was different. He was cold and aloof, a Fae of little words. In all my years, I could count the number of times he'd spoken to me on just one hand. I had a distinct feeling that this wouldn't be a problem for her.

A small movement caught my eye and from behind the woman's legs, peeked out curious blue eyes.

"Your son?" I asked haltingly.

She shook her head but didn't elaborate.

I kneeled, tucking the length of my dress under me and offered a tentative smile. "I'm Ash," I whispered.