Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,69

thumping speeds up slightly.

For once the butterflies aren’t madly flapping around in my abdomen, but lightly flittering in place, as if dazed as much as I am right now. Who would’ve thought his hold would have such a calming effect on me?

“Just think, Rosalie.”

“Hmm?” I murmur.

“In a week you’ll be stepping on dirt and grass and breathing in fresh air. Taking baths in a river instead of splashing yourself with water in a bucket. And you can eat whatever you can forage.”

But I won’t have you, I think. Because you’re not going to leave your family and your home to be with me. I know that I should push my way out of his grasp and begin the process of breaking away, sparing my heart of further longing for something unattainable…but I just can’t. Not yet.

My legs are a little stiff from everything I’ve put them through the past several days. I’ve made three-thousand, two hundred and sixty-five passes around my hole – yeah, I counted…it keeps me from focusing all my attention on the fullness of Jack’s lips, the wavy hair as brown as the bark on a weeping willow, his hypnotizing mossy green eyes, his… Dang it!

Yesterday began my new ritual of leg squats. I didn’t really understand what they were until Jack demonstrated them – most fae don’t bother strengthening their legs, since it’s our wings that really support our weight. Now I regret taking these on. My legs have never ached so much in my life! And it’s awkward to sit on the floor and stretch them out without poking myself with a rocky protuberance. Walking continuous circles helps, but I still feel the pull when I overextend my step.

So I’ve been a complete chicken when it comes to looking at my wings. I couldn’t resist a fearful peek that first day. What I saw was devastating. Today when I find the courage to peek again, my heart continues to break. The outer cartilage that keeps my wings strong and shaped is completely mangled, with so many breaks I dare not count. The intricate pattern of veins and crossveins is completely shredded, and I fear they’ll never align and heal to their former glory. How can I move forward without wings? The magic coursing through our wings define who the fae are. Am I to be the only pixie in my Hollow doomed to walk the forest floor the rest of my years? Never tiptoe across the forest canopy or walk on water again? I glance at my wings and fear the answer is yes. If I ever considered myself an outsider amongst pixies before, I’m sure a lack of wings will put a permanent stamp on it. Caution – this pixie broken in every way possible.

Lifting my spirits, I grin ear to ear when I see what Jack brings me to eat today. Roasted and salted cucumber seeds! I pop a few into my mouth and moan. I know they’re delectable, but they’re too mild in flavor for my taste buds to pick up on. I really hope that returns soon. I don’t want to live the rest of my life eating tasteless calories, or having to put something extremely pungent on my food just to catch a whiff of flavor.

“So I brought something for you to look at.”

That piques my curiosity as I grab a piece of sourdough bread to pick at. Jack pulls a piece of aged parchment from his satchel and unfolds it six times, revealing a large drawing done by hand. He sits beside me so we can look on together. I’m in awe over what I see: a map displaying the location of a ton of Hollows, the rivers that flow through our lands and the trails that seem to connect us all. By the wear on the paper and aged edges, this drawing could have been made hundreds of years ago, so I have the distinct feeling Jack isn’t supposed to have this in his possession.

“So many Hollows. I never dreamed there were so many!” Elm, Ash, Lauralyn, Willow, Cedar – the Hollows are endless on this piece of parchment, and each depicted with the drawing of the pixie in the correct skin-tone in front of their corresponding tree type. I see my Hollow, Holly’s (Ash) and Juniper’s (Birch). Funny…I don’t see Willow’s color depicted anywhere on here. “I always knew there were more of us out there, especially since some disappeared,” I pause at that, wondering how many