Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,27
because she’s one of the ones that rarely speak.
“Your wings,” I say. “They’re healing.”
My words make her do something I never see coming. She screams in terror and curls up in a ball on the ground. Shaking, I step back, not knowing what to do. My eyes scan the sky but the spriggans could care less that one of our kind is having a total meltdown in the middle of the pit. The last of the pixies are dropping and the sprigs vacate for the evening.
The way Juniper’s rushing toward us makes me panic. My hands snap to the air before my shoulders in surrender. “I didn’t do anything,” I blurt.
“Elma, what’s wrong?” Juniper asks. When Elma continues to scream and cry into her rocking body, Juniper looks to me for the answer. “What happened?”
“All I did was tell Elma her wings were healing and she completely flipped out.” I left out the part where I stupidly touched her wings and got a tiny zap for it.
Juniper sighs knowingly. “It’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong, Rosalie.” Juniper searches the pit with her eyes, then calls, “Willow!” I turn just as the powdery blue pixie appears beside me. “I’m going to need your help with Elma here. I’ll hold.”
Hold? Hold what?
Willow nods and falls to her knees.
“Elma?” Juniper asks. “Tuck into a ball, honey. It’ll hurt less.”
“Hurt? What’s going to hurt?” I ask quickly, but no one pays me any mind. Elma rolls tight. Juniper hugs her shoulders and allows Elma to grasp her free hand, and Willow braces her hands on the edge of Elma’s right wing, which she has to be getting zapped for. It comes to my attention what Willow’s about to do and I hear a deafening crack. A horrible scream escapes Elma’s contorting body. Willow’s fast to snap the second wing, and even though I know it’s coming, a violent tremor rushes through my body upon breakage. Elma’s cries are heart-wrenching, and every nerve in my wings is screaming right along with her. Why would they do that? My head shakes in confusion as Willow rises, leaving Juniper to rock the crying, trembling pixie.
Willow walks away, ignoring me completely, but my disgusted gaze forces Juniper to answer the question I have yet to ask. “If we hadn’t done it, the spriggans would have, and they’re far less kind.”
Dumbfounded, I whisper, “Why?”
“To keep us grounded. The steel weighs us down but it’s the broken wings that truly keep us from taking flight.”
I groan. “How long does it take for our wings to heal?”
“When we break them, we do small breaks so we can return to work the next day, and they’ll begin healing in a matter of weeks. If the sprigs get a hold of you, they’re more aggressive and it’ll be painful for several days. And your wings will probably take about six weeks before the magic begins to return.
Elma’s screams reduce to a whimper as Juniper continues to rock her soothingly. I think I’m going to be sick to my stomach. I truly feel for Elma, but what’s mostly eating at me is the realization that in several weeks, Willow will have the pleasure of snapping mine.
Oh my Mother Nature this sucks! The heat from the fires suck every bit of moisture from my skin, literally sucking the life out of me. I’ve endured the heat all day long, my first time at the fire pit station, and my body is just shy of collapsing right here, right now. The only relief I get is when it’s my turn to go mushroom picking. It’s probably not the best idea to combine dazed-out pixies suffering from heat-exhaustion with touching hallucinogenic mushrooms, but there’s no way any of us will make it without the chance to cool off outside. And being at the station right up front under the spriggans’ noses means we can’t take several bathroom breaks to rest without drawing unwanted attention.
Finally, it’s my turn to go mushroom collecting again. I splash some water on my face, neck and shoulders. As I step outside, there’s not necessarily a breeze, but it’s definitely a few degrees cooler than the cave. I grab the basket made of dried woven vine and follow Holly through the forest. Each time we’ve gone today she’s shown me a new route that leads to a different patch. They seem to be scattered all around and plentiful, which confuses me given the decaying condition of every other living thing in this