The Trouble With Pixies (Edinburgh Elementals Book 1) (2 page)

The attic was almost pitch-black, except for the glow of the city coming through a skylight. Seconds later, the room was enveloped in a bright glare as Hattie flicked on the light switch. Michael automatically scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary, but found only a bare wooden floor and blank walls. He watched as Hattie raised the weapon, aiming it at a spot next to the window.

‘I’m surprised you’re still here,’ she said in a cold voice. ‘I thought you would have legged it, when you had the chance.’

‘Sorry?’ Michael asked.

Hattie continued. ‘The door’s been unlocked for a while now. You could have just walked out.’

‘Who are you talking to?’ Michael took a tentative step into the room. ‘There’s no one here.’

‘Michael, if you’re staying then close the door, and stand against it.’ Hattie said. ‘If you feel something try to open it, stand firm.’

‘What
something
? Your pixies? Are you still trying to say they’re in here? Sorry, but I can’t seem anyone except you.’ He heard her tut and she turned to face him.

‘Well of course you can’t see them. See my eyes? See how the irises are different colours? Well… think of them as 3D glasses.’

She had utterly lost him now. ‘What?’

‘When creatures, like these pixies, want to become invisible to the naked eye, only people with eyes like mine can still see them properly.’ She paused. ‘Okay, the 3D analogy was a bit crap but you understand what I’m saying?’

‘I… think so,’ Michael replied.

‘Good. So, please, just do as I ask.’

Wordlessly, Michael moved to close the door behind him, and stood guard, feeling rather foolish.

‘Thank you.’ Hattie turned back to face the spot she’d been looking at before.

‘Now what?’

‘Now,’ she said, her fingers tightening their grip on the weapon, ‘I’ll do what I should have done months ago.’

‘You’re not going to shoot them?’

‘Course not. Why would I do that? What a silly thing to say.’

‘What are you going to do, then?’

She glanced back at him, a smirk appearing on her face. ‘I’m going to paint them.’

This was the moment Michael realised he was on the crazy train, bound for Loony Land. The weapon she held was some sort of modified paintball gun, and it appeared she intended to shoot paint pellets at invisible pixies in his attic room. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, and despite the urge to burst out laughing at the situation he found himself in, Michael decided to just shut up and observe.

The first shot was surprisingly loud. Michael jumped, whacking the back of his head against the door. A splodge of blue paint now covered the patch of wall directly under the skylight.

‘Missed,’ Hattie muttered, spinning around. She aimed the gun at the far corner of the room and fired again. Another blue dollop hit the wall, but this time Michael saw what looked like a small hand and wrist dripping paint across to the other corner.

‘Ha!’ Hattie exclaimed, the gun still trained on the hovering hand. She pulled the trigger again and more of the creature was revealed. The pixie didn’t stop long enough for Michael to get a good look at it, but he guessed its height at about three feet tall, and the thing looked in need of a good meal. ‘One down, four to go,’ said Hattie, her sights set elsewhere now that one of the creatures had been discovered.

‘There’s five of them?’ asked Michael. ‘Five pixies in my attic?’

‘Not for long.’ The gun went off again. Success. A pixie had been scrambling across the sloped ceiling when a barrage of paint hit it, causing it to fall to the floor with a thud. This one was entirely covered in paint and lay there, making incoherent noises. At one point, Michael was sure he heard the odd swear word coming from the throaty voice of the pixie.

Another one was caught soon after, this time having been caught full in the face. Grumbling, it went to join its friend who still lay on the floor. Michael wondered if the paint had some sort of mild tranquilizer in the mix. It was as though the creatures gave up once they were hit.

‘Hedgehog!’ Hattie barked suddenly. She spun again, stopping with the gun aimed squarely at Michael’s feet.

Michael looked down. These shoes cost nearly £100. No way was she going to be covering them in blue paint. And then he realised what she was talking about. A small, brown hedgehog was nudging against his feet.

‘Don’t let the bugger out,’ Hattie told him, readjusting her aim towards the poor woodland creature. The hedgehog seemed to sense the danger it was in, and started crawling onto Michael’s left shoe, as if trying to get get to the door.

‘Jesus, what are you doing?’ Michael asked, bending down to carefully lift the quivering animal, making sure not to brush against the quills. ‘You can’t paintball a hedgehog. Seriously, Hattie.’

‘Seriously, Michael, put the thing down. Unless you want to be covered in paint, too.’

‘Why?’

She sighed loudly, like she was tired of explaining things. ‘Because pixies can turn into hedgehogs when they feel they’re in danger, or when they don’t want to be observed by humans.’ She held up a hand before he could reply. ‘And don’t ask why it’s hedgehogs. I haven’t a clue. I’m not some walking encyclopedia of the supernatural.’

Michael regarded the little creature who stared back at him with small beady eyes. He couldn’t be sure she was telling the truth. But hadn’t she’d been proved right so far? He didn’t know what to do. That was until the hedgehog let out a distinct cackle. Michael let go and the creature fell to the floor. But before it could hit the ground, Hattie attacked it with the ammo of paint. Still in its present form, the creature began to run away from them, only to falter after a few steps. Giving up, it meandered over to the other lethargic pixies and lay down for a sleep.

It didn’t take long for Hattie to take down the rest of the menaces. Soon, a cluster of blue sat despondently in the centre of the room. One, however, found the energy to raise their middle finger to the humans, which Michael thought was rather rude.

Hattie flicked her hair from her eyes and beamed at him. ‘All done,’ she said brightly, throwing him the gun which he managed to catch in time.

‘Now what?’ he asked, hoping she wasn’t going to leave them there.

She answered by digging into her jacket pocket and fishing out what looked like a small ball of silver wiring. Whatever it was, it made the pixies react with a gasp. ‘Unbreakable chains. Once this is used to tie them up, they can’t escape. It wouldn’t matter if they used the sharpest axe in the world, it wouldn’t make a difference. Only the person who does the tying can break it. Don’t ask me how it works. It’s very rare, and not many people have access to it.’ She slowly unwound the ball. ‘I’ve only got it as I can be trusted not to misuse it.’

She got the pixies and hedgehog to eventually stand in a line. Michael watched, still holding the paintball gun as she carefully wound the wire around the group, tightening it only enough to keep the creatures together.

‘Does the paint come off?’ Michael asked, regarding the patches of blue around the attic.

Hattie glanced at him as she tied a double-knot. ‘Of course it does. The poor things won’t want to be constantly visible to others. I’ll find a stream once I get them back where they belong, and wash it out.’

‘You’re letting them go?’

Hattie got to her feet with a slight groan. ‘I don’t have the right to keep them, Michael.’

‘So, you’re not some sort of -’ He paused, trying to find the right word. ‘You’re not some sort of law enforcement officer?’ He noticed the smirk on her face. ‘Well, what are you then?’

‘I’m human. Just like you.’

‘But you know about pixies.’

‘And the rest.’

‘The rest?’

‘Pixies are just one of a thousand creatures that share this world with us,’ she explained. ‘They’re just pranksters, the pixies. Harmless, really. Just be glad you didn’t have to deal with Ice Giants or -’

‘Ice Giants?’

Hattie placed a hand on her hip. ‘Are you going to repeat everything I say?’

‘Quite possibly.’

‘Look, all you need to know is that all those creatures you used to read about as a child, they’re real. They’re as real as you and me.’

‘And you’re someone who can see them, protect us humans from them?’

She laughed. ‘God, no. I’m not some superhero, or anything. I’ve not got any special powers or magical swords. I’m able to see them, where most people can’t, so I sometimes have to mediate between different races.’

‘Are there others like you? That can see them? Or is it just you?’

Hattie shrugged. ‘No idea. I
think
there’s some out there.’

Michael stared at the ground for a moment. ‘This is a lot to take in.’

‘Then don’t.’ Hattie stepped towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘No one’s asking you to. You just got caught up in this. Go back to your wine and your children and forget this ever happened.’

‘I don’t think I can,’ he answered.

She beamed, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘Great! Then I can call on your help, now and again.’ She sauntered back over to the pixies, and picked up the end of the wire, keeping a tight hold as she gently pulled the group forward.

‘Wait a minute, what do you mean my “help”?’ Michael asked.

Hattie faced him again, the little band of pixies careering into the back of her legs. She didn’t seem to mind. ‘Oh, you know. The usual stuff. Keeping an eye on my house if I have to go away, picking up my post. That kind of thing.’ She smiled. ‘Why, did you think I meant something else? Did you think I meant help with the creatures?’

‘No,’ he lied. ‘House and post. Fine, I can do that.’ He glanced at his watch. It was almost half past eight. He’d told the kids to be back before nine. He didn’t want them to return home and ask why a red-haired woman was leading a group of blue-splattered creatures through their new home.

With a bit of a struggle, Michael and Hattie managed to get the pixies down the stairs and into Hattie’s car that was parked outside her house. The vehicle was an old yellow mini and, despite the size of the pixies, they wouldn’t fit comfortably into the boot. Instead, Michael kept a look-out as Hattie bundled them into the back seat instead.

Afterwards, Michael and Hattie stood by the car. Both had streaks of blue paint on their skin and clothes from where they’d come up against the pixies.

‘Good job this stuff
does
come off,’ Michael remarked, wiping his hands on his trousers.

‘Thanks for your help.’

‘I would say “anytime” but…’ He let his voice trail off, and smiled.

‘I’ll maybe see you around, then.’ She opened the driver’s door and slid into the seat.

‘So where are you taking them?’

‘These guys look like they belong near Exeter, so that’s where I’m taking them.’

‘Exeter? You’ll be driving for hours. You won’t make it before midnight.’

‘No, but the sooner I leave, the sooner I can get back.’ She put the key in the ignition, the engine growled into life. ‘Besides, if I kept them until the morning, they’d only keep me awake with the swearing and the singing. God, the singing…’ She shuddered. ‘Anyway, thanks again, Michael.’

‘No problem.’ Michael stepped back as Hattie pulled the door shut. Giving him a small wave, she pulled out onto the road and drove off. Michael watched until the mini disappeared from view, and then walked back across to the house, still trying to get his head around everything that had happened tonight.

The kids returned not long afterwards, laden with boxes of pizzas. Ingrid was cradling a litre-bottle of lemonade in her arms. They found Michael sitting in the kitchen, sipping a coffee. His laptop sat open in front of him.

‘Hello you lot,’ he said, leaning down to give his daughter a kiss. ‘How was Edinburgh?’

‘Great!’ Ben enthused, delving into one of the pizzas. ‘We walked along Princes Street, then went bowling. I won twice!’

‘Once. You won once,’ Ingrid corrected him. ‘Tom won twice.’

‘Yeah, but you nearly beat me, Ing,’ Tom said, tickling his little sister under the chin, making her giggle. ‘Thought you’d be hungry, dad, so we got pizza.’

‘So I see,’ said Michael, mouth already salivating at the delicious smells wafting from the cardboard boxes. He put down his coffee and went to retrieve some plates. ‘And you’re right; I am famished.’

‘Did you enjoy your peace and quiet, then?’ Tom asked, pouring the lemonade into four tumblers. ‘Bet you had a nice, boring evening.’

Michael glanced at the laptop screen, showing an article about pixies. ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘A very boring evening.’

THE END
AUTHOR NOTE

Thanks for reading the first story in the Edinburgh Elementals series. If you want to read of more strange goings-on in Edinburgh, the second and third book in the series are also available in ebook and audio book formats.

Tears of Gold

The Brisingamen Necklace - A necklace forged by four dwarves in ancient times. It is said that, if worn, you tears turn to gold.