Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,78
I suppose they’ll still hurt if I touch them, and I dare not try.
“Well… Now you look the part.” His eyes linger on me longer than necessary. He almost seems sad to see me this way. Perhaps he feels it’s a tease…because it sure feels that way to me. Here we are, compatible heights, matching skin tones…two fae that look a match. What I want is right before me, and the attraction I have for Jack is no longer considered unlawful. But this nine-inch, creamy-skinned faerie before him isn’t me. Not really. And I think he sees that as a problem as much as I do. What good is being together if I have to change myself to the point I’m unrecognizable?
“Come on. I want you past the spriggans campsite before you change back or something goes wrong with the illusion.”
He passes me the bag – it’s heavier than it looks – and I stuff my worn out clothes and the bag of pixie dust inside. I slip on the shoes – I guess they must have been the thump I heard earlier when I was too out of it to discover the source of the noise. They’re soft and silky on my bare feet, and I feel a little guilty that I’m not clean enough for shoes this pretty. The dark brown material extends a little farther than my toes, but the silk ribbon straps that wrap around my ankles keeps them on well enough. I never had shoes this nice back home. I had two pairs for working in, but I hardly ever wore them, preferring to feel the earth between my bare toes.
“You’re in charge of that bag from now on, so hold on tight.” He grabs the metal clamp and the lantern’s hand ring with his left hand, and extends his right arm out. His fingers summon me. I loop the bag over my right shoulder and step into his embrace. My left arm wraps under his arm and up his back, my hand cupping over the curvature of his shoulder blade. His arm wraps tightly around my waist. His wings flutter, and I suddenly wonder if he’ll be able to carry me out of here by himself since I probably weigh as much as he does now.
“Maybe we should have made me a faerie after you took me topside.”
He huffs, and sarcastically says, “Now you say that? Where was that great idea fifteen minutes ago?”
“Guess maybe someone should have consulted me in terms of the escape plan after all, huh?”
I can feel his glare but I refuse to look. He squeezes my waist so hard I yelp. My lips press tightly together, trying to contain the laughter within as he bends and pushes up, having to practically jump off the ground. We ascend – a little slowly, but up is up. So long crap hole!
We pass over the edge, and my feet stumble to find solid ground that doesn’t poke a hole through my shoes. Jack releases me slowly, his hand sliding along my lower back as he walks down the passage.
“Turns out you make a curvy faerie too.”
Astonished, I playfully smack him on the back of the shoulder before he can duck completely out of reach. I follow his mild laughter down the passage, the lantern in his hand illuminating a distorted depiction of our shadows across the rocky walls. It only takes a minute of walking to get us to the opening of the cave, to the peaks of hanging rock resembling the canines in a wolf’s maw, which teases me, looking ready to chomp shut and devour me the moment I dare to pass through, but I’m excited for my first view of nature in several weeks nonetheless.
Ugh…I’ve forgotten how ugly this made up world is. Even with nothing but a weak glow from the moon, I can see the barren ground and a few dead looking trees. Those poor trees. In reality, they’re probably pretty beautiful, but it’s lost to the world thanks to this horrible illusion. Pixies spend a great deal of time and effort making plants and trees bountiful and picturesque, and the flippin’ faeries completely removed it from this area with one stupid, unlawful illusion. Jerks.
We stop now that we’re outside, and Jack takes off and disappears over the top of the cave. A moment later I hear a wooden clunk, and a rush of water flows over the top, covering the entrance with a thick wall of