Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,21

You won’t be able to not glow,” I argued. If anyone saw us, I imagined their first instinct would be to worry that the Wisps had somehow returned. We’d be swarmed by hunters before I’d even warmed up. And then Victoria would know we’d broken the rules, and I’d never be able to take the pixies out again.

Boudicca rolled her eyes and dove, without permission, into the neckline of my sweater and began to rummage around, in what I assumed to be an attempt to harass me into concession. I yelped and patted wildly at the fabric. But she was faster, dodging my strikes. Thoroughly tickled, I grabbed the hem and tried unsuccessfully to shake her out.

“Come out of there, or none of us are getting out of here this evening,” I commanded. Inwalla teetered on the tip of my tongue; I didn’t want to use it, but I didn’t want a pixie hiding out in my clothing, either.

She scrambled down my sleeve, making me wriggle. I hated being tickled almost as much as I hated running. A moment later, her head poked out of the cuff, wearing a mischievous grin. She chirped, as if to say: “Does this mean we’re allowed to go with you?”

I shook her out of my sleeve wordlessly, prompting her to fly straight back up and poise for another dive. I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, you can come!” Boudicca backed off, smug as anything. “But, like I said, I’ll have to take the rings off first, and you have to swear that you’ll keep your lights as dim as possible and keep close to me. If you get me into even the tiniest smidgen of trouble, we’re all screwed.”

I didn’t see why they had to wear the nasty things. Nathan had tested how they actually kept tabs on the pixies by running a tracking hex check on them, which had come back clean of any actual tracking technology. Delving deeper into how they were meant to work, he’d clamped one to his pinkie finger and run diagnostics with a device he’d “borrowed” from Naomi. According to him, it hadn’t seemed to do anything at all before he breached the perimeters of the interdimensional bubble. That was when the beacon had started to go off, though he’d only triggered it for a split second. So, unless I wanted to do circuits in the orchard, those rings would need to come off.

The three pixies banded together and linked arms in the air. Their cuttlefish spots shifted to a warm shade of pink, showing their approval and their promise to behave.

“Then sit on the desk, so I can get rid of the rings.”

They perched on the edge of the desk like a novelty ornament, their legs dangling. I took a seat and pulled open the top drawer of the desk, removing a small tin box. To the unsuspecting eye, it looked like it might contain art supplies or sewing needles, but it really contained my lockpicking kit—one of my uncle’s, actually, and it had proven to be the perfect tool for unlocking the ring mechanisms.

“Sit still!” I whispered, as Spartacus swung his legs to and fro like a little kid. He made a rude “ooh” sound, but still did as I’d asked. Taking out a razor-thin file and a pair of tweezers, I jammed the former into the hinge of the ring and pushed up until the minuscule pin in the center of the ring’s lock loosened. Grabbing the top with the tweezers, I lifted it cleanly out and dropped it in the box. The metallic clink made me smile. Yes, this was definitely against the rules, but it felt right to free them from their manacles, if only temporarily. In fact, I wished it could’ve been permanent, but Victoria would definitely notice that. After doing the same for Boudicca and Cynane, I stowed the rings away in the box with the tools and put them back in the drawer.

“Hide in here until we’re outside,” I instructed, stretching out the pouch of my hoodie. The pixies saluted, chattering excitedly to one another, and slipped inside. “And no noise until it’s safe!”

Boudicca chirruped in reply. I knew her tone, subtly different from Cynane’s or Spartacus’s. The trio fell silent, curled up in my hoodie pouch like the world’s peskiest joeys. I checked the clock to find that twenty minutes had gone by, and I made a silent promise to stay out for at least an hour.