Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,94

He made a grumbling sound of affirmation and flicked his wrist, which I guessed meant “Go ahead, idiot.” I wanted to laugh, but I imagined he wouldn’t take kindly to that. Polite caution seemed to be the best way forward.

“You heard what the head huntswoman said earlier, didn’t you?” I said.

The pixie erupted into another tiny barrage of rage, punching the air and kicking out his legs. His pulsating spots turned bright red—a warning sign, and I totally understood where he was coming from. If I had pulsating spots, they’d be flashing furious, fire engine red right now.

I chuckled. “So, I take it that means you pixies are definitely not responsible, then?”

The pixie shot me a withering look and rolled his eyes. He pressed his hand to his chest, as he had done earlier, and the spots turned a shade of warm pink. The color wasn’t as easy to decipher as red or blue, but it made me feel strangely comforted, as though I was… loved.

“You want to be friendly?” I offered.

The pixie nodded and gave a sad chirrup. A second later, he exploded into a fresh tirade, waltzing up and down my arm in a mocking imitation of Victoria, his arms behind his back and his chest puffed out, babbling in a high-pitched tone and sashaying as though his life depended on it. Nathan stifled a snort, which drew a pleased grin from the pixie.

“Do you know where the missing magicals might be?” I asked, before he could start sashaying again. I realized I was smiling… because of him. Aside from Leviathan, I’d never been able to hold a conversation with a Purge beast. Sure, this might not have been a simple back and forth, but he understood me, and I understood him. Mostly. It felt as though some kind of bridge had been crossed, bringing me a little bit closer to understanding the nature of monsters. At least, these ones. And the most ironic part was that I hadn’t intended to get to know them. Before I’d come to the Institute, my goal had been control, but I was beginning to think I’d misunderstood what “control” could mean.

The pixie took off his walnut shell hat and scratched his head. Then, very decisively, he shook his head. My heart sank, only to leap again when the pixie held up his index finger. He pointed at himself then swooshed his arms in a circle, chattering the whole time.

“You think other pixies might know?” I prompted.

He grinned and nodded.

Thrilled to have a potential lead, I pressed on, lowering my voice so Nathan couldn’t hear. “Could it have something to do with the Door to Nowhere?”

A dark expression drifted across the pixie’s face. He lifted a finger to his lips and hovered terrifyingly close to my face, wings fluttering. Almost nose to nose, he lurched at me with spread arms and unleashed an almighty shriek that nearly made me crap my pants. He collapsed back onto my shoulder a second later, cackling to himself.

“Not funny!” I barked, but the pixie kept howling with laughter. “Answer the question!”

He shrugged, making the same circle gesture as before: he had no idea. I’d have to ask the rest of the pixies. I had hoped for a quicker solution so we could get straight to the saving-my-friend-from-a-dangerous-mystical-gateway part of the evening, but if it eventually led to Genie and the others, then I supposed we’d need more input from these funny little pests first.

I turned to Nathan. “I’m guessing you’ve got an exit strategy? You got in, so you can get us out of here, right?”

“Getting in was actually the easy part.” He lowered his gaze, his tone apprehensive. “The hexes prevent any non-authorized personnel from leaving, and we’d both be on that list. So would the pixie.”

I frowned. “But the pixie left once already.”

The pixie snorted and started running through a rapid charade of what had happened. He flew back up to the bookshelf and puffed out his cheeks like a bullfrog. Snapping out his arms, he ducked behind one of the books, then jumped back into view. He did this again and again until I understood what he was trying to say.

“You tried to get out, but the hexes stopped you?”

He nodded furiously.

I turned to Nathan. “Would a puzzle box work?”

“For the pixie, yes. For us—we don’t have one big enough.”

He’d made a joke, and Genie had missed it. I’d have to tell her that Mr. Humorless had some decent dad jokes. When I