an attitude.”
“Oho, there’s pepper in the sugar pot. I like it. I’m your—”
The unremitting racket muddled his words.
“My what?” Sassy raised her voice to be heard over the uproar. “I can’t hear you.”
“Oh, for the love of—” He put his knobby hands to his mouth, his lips forming a trumpet. “QUIET.”
To Sassy’s relief, the commotion ceased.
“That’s more like it.” The creature adjusted his tunic. “I’m your nestor. I’m here to help you through the change.”
“Change?”
“Don’t backslide into stupid on me. The fairy change, what else? You got a big dose of fairymones yesterday.”
Sassy’s stomach did a half turn. “Oh, no, you don’t mean this is permanent. I can’t live with Mother Nature blasting a soundtrack in my head. I’ll go bonkers.”
“Don’t run around barefoot. Shoes will help. And work on your filter. It may take you a few hundred years, but you’ll get the hang of it.”
“A few hundred—” Sassy’s knees buckled. “You must be joking.”
The little man hooked his ET fingers in his belt and regarded her. “Slug nuts, how much did Sildhjort tell you?”
“He didn’t tell me anything. He’s a big shiny deer.”
“Typical,” he said. “Glow and blow, that’s Sildhjort. Loves a dramatic exit. He sent you to intervene on behalf of the fairies. Strictly speaking, he should have kept his snout out of it. Not his concern.”
“The witch was doing horrible things to them. She was killing animals, too.” Sassy’s mouth trembled. “There were squirrels and raccoons and little dead bunnies piled up against the witch’s shield. I saw them.” She shook off the memory. “I’m glad I could help, but Sildhjort should have asked me first.”
“He’s a god. They don’t ask. Think they know everything.” He tossed her a small velvet pouch on a leather cord. “He sent you this.”
Sassy loosened the strings and upended the bag into her hand. Bits of black gravel mixed with purple rocks poured out.
The little man scuffed the ground with the toe of his slipper. “I threw in the amethysts. Figured you could use a little tranquility. Keep it next to your skin.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Hel-lo, you’re fae now and tuned into nature. There are earth fairies and water fairies and sylphs and salamanders, to name a few. The witch was probably going for the sparkly types, but who knows what she caught in that trap of hers.” He flashed a set of sharp teeth. “And you drank the fairy juice. Talk about your power shakes.”
“I did not—Oh, never mind.” Sassy dumped the little rocks back in the bag. “And this necklace will help?”
He shrugged. “Supposed to. The black ones are crater rock. The crater’s the source of Hannah’s magic. Enhances whatever abilities a super has. That’s one reason Sildhjort likes it here. Even the gods need a little pick-me-up now and then. And he likes playing with the locals.”
“I don’t want to enhance this . . . whatever it is,” Sassy said. “I want it to go away.”
“And I want to be a clurichaun and drink wine all day and ride around on a sheep. Instead, I get this gig. Deal, baby girl.”
“But—”
“Gotta go. Wear the necklace. It won’t break. It’s waterproof—invisible, too, if you want. Know how you dames like to be matchy-matchy.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, but—”
“Call me, but don’t go crazy with it. I’ve got more than one nestling.”
“Call you how?”
He rolled his eyes. “What is this, your first fairy tale? Call me by name, of course. Irilmoskamoseril. Remember it.”
He vanished without warning.
“Goodness.” Sassy blinked. “I’ve got a fairy god grump.”
She slipped the necklace on and tucked it next to her skin. The cacophony dulled to a low roar like . . . well, like magic.
The little bird landed on a dogwood branch. Perfect egg. Sassy see perfect egg?
“Of course I want to see your nest.”
Sassy followed the bird as it took flight.
Grim woke up. He was wedged between two branches at the top of a linden tree. His mouth tasted like troll muck. Not that he’d eaten troll muck, but he’d stepped in it and smelled it enough times to know it was supremely foul. Somehow, his mouth had been coated in the sludge.
He sat up. Vertigo and pain assailed him. He grabbed a limb for balance, and groaned. Sweet Kehv, an angry imp with a red-hot mallet was trying to hammer its way out of his head.
“Where am I?” His throat and tongue were dry. The words came out a croak. He coughed and tried again. “Provider?”
Look down. I should think the answer obvious.
“Why am