Chapter 5 5- Be Boring When Possible. Be Confusing When Not.

LOTTIE

Pik reaches into the pocket of his tiny trousers and pulls out a small card, holding it up like it’s something precious. I snatch it from him and glance down. An address. Today’s date, and a time. 8:30 p.m. I flick my eyes to the clock on my phone. 8:02. Shit. My stomach drops.

“It starts in twenty-eight minutes,” I mutter. Of course it does. Of course, the one chance I have to speak to a powerful fae comes with a ticking clock attached. I shove the card into my hoodie pocket and jump to my feet, nearly tripping over the mess still scattered across the floor. I grab my sneakers and jam them on without even bothering to tie them properly. “Come on, we’re going to be late even if we take a cab!” I call out, already heading for the door. I can read over Grandma’s tips for dealing with fae on the drive over. I just need to get there. Pik doesn’t move.

“No way.” He says firmly, crossing his little arms over his bare chest. “I’m staying HERE. I don’t know who attacked me or why I was chosen, but I’m staying out of this!” He insists. I freeze mid-step. Huh? I blink at him. What the hell?

“But this is my home!” I blurt out as I gesture wildly around the room. “You can’t just stay here while I go deal with your extremely powerful, possibly terrifying master. Won’t he miss you?” I try to reason with him. Pik shrugs like we’re discussing the weather. 

“Don’t care. Lord Rowl doesn’t particularly need me.” He declares. That is not reassuring. “I’d rather stay here. I’m a house pixie. It’s what I’m good at. If you let me stay, I can spell the house so intruders can’t get in. I’m also great at fixing broken things. Leaky taps. Loose boards. Wobbly chairs. I can mend fabric, too. Please let me stay!” He continues quickly. His tone is pleading, and he clasps his hands together dramatically and hovers closer, wings buzzing in agitation. I stare at him. I do not have time for this negotiation. 

“Fine.” I groan, shoving my foot properly into my shoe. “You can stay for now. When I have my brother back, we can discuss what our agreement should be then.” I tell him. The words come out thoughtlessly, but Pik beams as if I’ve just handed him a crown.

“You won’t regret this!” He cheers, zipping wildly around the room on his little wings. He immediately knocks over a stack of books, clips the edge of my lamp, ricochets off the wall, and finally slams straight into the side of my bookshelf with a solid thud. He drops to the floor in a heap and then, instead of crying, sits there giggling uncontrollably. I stare at him for a long second.

“Are you okay?” I ask cautiously. He waves a hand dismissively, still laughing. Right. He’s fine. I shake my head, yank the door open, and step out into the night air. If I survive this party, I’ll deal with the house pixie situation later. One disaster at a time.

I call a taxi with shaking fingers and step out onto the front porch to wait. The night air hits my skin, cool and grounding, but it doesn’t calm the frantic thudding in my chest. Every passing set of headlights makes me jump. Every second feels wasted.

The cab arrives in five minutes, though it feels longer. I climb into the back seat and give the driver the address from the card, trying to sound normal. Trying to sound like a girl going to a party and not like someone about to negotiate with a potentially ancient magical creature.

As the car pulls away, I yank out my phone and open my email. Sure enough, my grandmother has already sent through a list.

I brace myself and start reading.

1 - Do not promise the fae anything unless you intend to go through with it. Their agreements are magically binding.

Fantastic. So no casual ‘sure, maybe’ or ‘we’ll see.’ Noted.

2 - Be careful of fae parties. Humans (and witches) can easily be drawn in and trapped in several ways.

I glance up from my phone and out the window at the passing streetlights. Trapped how? I really wish she’d included examples.

3 - Do not agree to dance with a fae. If you accept a dance, you cannot leave until they choose to release you.

Absolutely no dancing. Got it. Even if they look devastatingly handsome. Even if the music is good. Even if my favourite song comes on. No dancing. Well, that makes this party sound thrilling.

4 - Do not eat anything a fae directly hands you. If you take even one bite, you will be forced to return to that fae every day.

5 - Do not drink anything a fae directly hands you. Even one si,p and you will be forced to return to that fae every night.

So no food. No drinks. No dancing. This is shaping up to be a very awkward evening.

6 - Beware trickery, fae cannot speak a lie, but that does not stop them from manipulating their words to trick you.

Of course, they can’t just be straightforward monsters. That would be too easy.

7 - Beware the thrall. As a witch you will have a natural resistance to the thrall of lesser fae, but the fae can use a kind of hypnotic ability to draw you in; it makes them seem otherworldly and attractive until you wish to do nothing but serve them. They cannot catch you in thrall if you know that it is happening. If you do get caught in the thrall, you can only escape if they release you or their concentration is broken. It is generally believed that each fae can only enthral each person a few times before the individual builds up a resistance. 

Serve them. That sends a cold chill down my spine. They can’t catch me in thrall if I know it’s happening. If I recognise it, I can fight it. So that’s comforting. I might only lose my free will temporarily. Wonderful.

8 - Try to learn what kind of fae you are dealing with. Different fae have different powers and weaknesses, although iron is a good deterrent for all of them.

My rings clink softly as I shift in my seat. Iron. Good. At least I did one thing right.

9 - Most importantly! Do not tell a fae your real name! Giving them your name gives them the ability to summon you (and vice versa if you can learn their name). It also allows them some measure of control over you. Use only your first OR last name, or more ideally, a nickname (Lottie would be acceptable), it doesn’t matter if the fae learns your real name as long as YOU are not the one who tells it to them. It is the act of giving your name that gives them control. 

I sit up straighter. Giving them my name gives them the ability to summon me. Use only a nickname. I swallow. So no Alexander Robert Laurel. No, Charlotte Laurel. Tonight I’m just Lottie.

I lock my phone and stare at my reflection in the darkened window. Rings. Necklaces. Bracelets. Iron everywhere. A hoodie. Sneakers. I look like I’m about to go on a run for snacks and pain medications or something, not attending a fae party. The car slows.

“We’ve arrived.” The cabbie says casually. My stomach flips. I pay him, shove the door open, and step out onto the pavement. I take one steadying breath. “No promises. No dancing. No food. No drinks. No real name… Find Lord Rowl and get Zander back. Simple.” I mutter to myself.