Wicked Nix by Lena Coakley

Author:Lena Coakley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2018-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

10

I have no choice. Even though it’s still daylight, even though I have no magic against the evil powder, I must go to the cottage. The fairies are coming tonight, and I must get rid of the man-people.

The cottage has turned white, and there is a funny smell in the air. The man-people has been painting. I can see his bucket by the barn. The carvings around the door are blue and red.

I recognize this place, I think. I’ve seen it before. If someone were telling me a story about a cottage in the woods, this is the cottage I would picture.

Is this a story? I wonder. Am I in it?

I notice something else—a curl of smoke rising from the chimney. The man-people must have figured out about the moss. He must know now that I didn’t really put a spell on his hearth.

I edge around the side of the house. The thorny sticks have all been pulled out of the garden and added to the pile of weeds. The man-people must know I didn’t curse his garden.

I peer down the well. There is nothing in it but water. He must know I didn’t turn his well water into skunk spit and frog pee.

He must know everything. He’s seen through all my tricks.

I swallow hard. He is too clever for me.

I had such a good idea of the trick I was going to play next. I told the man-people I would give his cow wings and she would fly to the moon, and so I thought I would lead his cow away and hide her somewhere. After all, she might be on the moon for all he knew. Now my idea doesn’t seem so good. My tricks aren’t tricky enough, but I don’t know what else to do.

My eyes sting. My only hope is that maybe the man-people thinks I am coming tonight, so he hasn’t sprinkled his evil powder yet. I don’t want to become invisible. I don’t want to call and call and have no one hear me. It reminds me of a game Flit and Fleet and the other fairies like to play.

One of them will point at me and say, “I don’t see any fairies over there. Do you see a fairy?”

Another will answer: “Well, I see you and I see me, but there’s nobody over there.”

“It’s me!” I say. “I’m right here!”

“Do you hear a fairy?”

“I do not. I hear no fairies.”

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” I say.

It is a mean game.

I take little steps toward the barn, all the time looking back and forth for the man-people. He must be in the house.

There is no ring of salt now; there are no nails or bits of iron in the grass. For some reason, this upsets me more than anything else. It’s as if he thinks he has already won his fight against me.

Slowly, I open the creaky door of the barn, hoping the man-people is not listening. I’ve never been inside a place before.

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