Thistle Down by Irene Radford

Author:Irene Radford [Radford, Irene]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 2011-06-07T06:00:00+00:00

“Thistle, do you know how to do an Internet search?” Dusty asked as they mounted the steps to the enclosed back porch. They’d had a successful afternoon introducing Thistle to her new friends. Few of the old folks wanted to admit they needed help. They gave in to the idea of Thistle “just checking on them” because of Dusty.

“No,” she replied, eyes studying her sandals as if they held all the answers. “Remember how your computer used to go all wild colors and static when I rode the mouse with you?”

“Damn. I was hoping you’d have some ideas about tracking down the people wanting to cut down The Ten Acre Wood.” Dusty bit her lip, juggling options.

“Pixies are tied to Earth and Water. Earth gives us an affinity with the metals in computers, but water drowns it. Faeries are tied to Fire and Air. They have an affinity with the signals flying through the Air, but Fire makes them scatter and become useless. Computers don’t like any of us.”

“Water nurtures Earth and brings forth glorious plants and trees. Air feeds Fire, making it stronger. I wonder if a half-breed could inherit stronger affinity with Earth and Air to overcome Water and Fire. Then they’d be able to handle computers and cell phones,” Dusty mused.

“Don’t even think about half-breeds! They’re monsters out of legends. No one has seen a half-breed since . . . since before the Faeries went underhill. Only one old Faery remained. He took up residence in the Patriarch Oak and pretended to advise and rule Pixies from there. He was too old to breed then. He’s gone now. That’s why Alder is king. He succeeded the old Faery.”

Thistle’s eyes crossed like she remembered something but didn’t want to talk about it. Then her expression cleared. “I have other sources of information.”

“Do I want to know about your sources?” Dusty imagined homeless men sleeping under the bridge or drug addicts hanging out around the back of the liquor store. Chase sometimes talked about gleaning information from such creatures.

“Trust me, if anyone knows about the murdering loggers, I’ll find out. But can we eat first? I’m hungry. And thirsty.”

“Me, too. It’s too hot to cook. Murdering loggers?”

“Yeah, if they cut down The Ten Acre Wood, they’ll murder my whole tribe of Pixies.”

“Oh.”

“Can we have pizza and beer?” Pure joy crossed Thistle’s face.

Dusty almost laughed. “Have I created a monster?”

A puzzled frown marred Thistle’s pert features. For the first time Dusty noticed how pointed her chin and ears were, making the slight uptilt of her eyes look longer. In low light her face would appear something other than human.

Like a Pixie.

“How about a big green salad with hardboiled eggs?”

“Oh, yes, that sounds delightful.” Thistle moved ahead of Dusty into the kitchen. “I’ll tear up the lettuce if you’ll boil the eggs. I’m not sure how to turn on the stove yet.”

Dusty surveyed the half-made salad on the drainboard and the tray of ice cubes melting in the sink.

“Dick!”

“In here, Dusty,” he called from the office.

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