Helloooo! I’m back with the fourth part of The Dust Pixies!

Grace, I used all three prompts and included “pencil” in my story.

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It was hard work to convince Mother and Father that I truly hadn’t gone looking for Rosalind, but that she had found me by accident. It was even harder to convince them that Lyri and I should go search for Finn. But finally my parents bent to my pleading.

“Yess!” I hugged my parents and flew circles around Lise in ecstasy. Adventure was my middle name, and this promised to be an epic one. (But seriously, my middle name really is Adventure. Petre’s middle name is Courage, and Fiona’s is Freedom. Dust pixies traditionally have those types of middle names.)

We’d determined the attic would be the best place to start our search. It was rarely frequented by dust pixies, which meant it was ideal for a reclusive orphan like Finn. We flew down the dim corridor in the wall, our excited whispers echoing off the cold stone walls. Suddenly we heard an echoing thud, then a scuttering sound of feet on the passageway.

“What was that?” Lyri hissed.

My heart leapt to my throat. I knew that sound: mouse. Mice are somewhat legendary creatures, for normally they’re even more scared of us than we are of them, but legend has it that when a mouse is trapped in a tight spot (like this corridor), they will fight for their lives. I wanted to keep the one life I had if it was at all possible.

I grabbed Lyri’s hand and raced to the corridor exit. Lyri’s hand was sweaty and trembling in mine.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” I assured here in a not-very-confident whisper.

We were backed up against the wall when we saw it. Or them. Two shadowy figures were creeping towards us, their eyes gleaming menacingly. Suddenly they stepped into a pool of candlelight and I gasped.

“Fiona and Petre? What are you doing here?” I was so happy that it was my siblings instead of mice I couldn’t even scold them properly.

Fiona said in a small, guilty voice, “We… we wanted to help you find Finn.” Petre sniffled, though in his case it wasn’t from guilt, it was from his unfortunate dust allergy.

I sighed, but Lyri whispered into my ear, “They can come, can’t they? We’ll have more people to help in case… well, in case anything goes wrong.”

I pondered this. Fiona and Petre wouldn’t exactly save us from a band of mice, but Lyri did have a point. “Okay, guys,” I decided at length, “let’s go find Finn.”

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“It’s spooky up here,” Fiona shivered. I agreed, but kept my expression as brave as I could.

Petre, on the other hand, was lost in the joys of a boy and his candle – sending flickering light to one side, then the other, then tipping the candle stub up and watching wide-eyed as the weak circle of light cut through the darkness. I couldn’t help but smile at his simple joy. At least he wasn’t scared.

The attic was a mysterious treasure trove, a haven for dust pixies. Cardboard boxes stuffed the place, heaps of magazines lay piled on the floor, pieces of trash and bits of fabric lay everywhere. Swiveling my head from side to side, I inspected what little I could see of the room for any signs of dust pixie habitation. Suddenly I stopped, and Lyri, Fiona, and Petre all crashed into me at the abrupt halt. The candle light snuffed out, and we where left in total darkness… except for the one ray of light that I had stopped for.

It was coming from a little hole in an overturned cardboard box. I motioned everyone to be silent, and we flew up closer to the mysterious beam of light. Now I could see that the light was coming from a keyhole in a tiny wooden door. Lyri caught her breath beside me and squeezed my hand. I squeezed her hand back.

But then Petre just had to sneeze, and the ray of light disappeared. I wanted to scream in frustration, but I didn’t dare. Why did my little brother have to come along, and why did he have to be allergic to dust of all things, and why did he have to sneeze right then?! I clenched my fist and took a few deep breaths. It’s okay, Mae. It’s okay. It’s not Petre’s fault he has dust allergies.

I fluttered over to the rest of the group. “Listen, guys. One of us should go look through that little hole in the door. We have to see what – or who – is in there.”

“I nominate you,” Lyri whispered with a small smile. Fiona and Petre nodded their solemn agreement.

I took a deep breath, hugged them all, and glided silently up to the door. Just as I reached it the light flicked back on. I heard a sound coming from inside the box – the sound of sobbing. I pressed my eye to the keyhole and tried not to gasp out loud.

What was this place? A lady dust pixie sat weeping softly, her head in her hands. Long, dark brown hair flowed down her back, crowned with a glistening headband, and she was cloaked in a beautiful, soft white fur. A luxurious matchbox bed was pushed into one corner. Short but perfectly sharpened pencils held up the large box which overflowed with soft wool quilts topped off with a fluffy cottonball pillow. A matchbox chest of drawers with button handles stood close beside the bed. Many other marvelous pieces of furniture met my eye, but the best thing of all was the walls. The whole room appeared to be inside of a miniature, misty forest of evergreens. My eyes couldn’t open wide enough to take in all of the wonders.

After a few moments the lady dust pixie arose from her seat and fluttered about the house, flying this way and that, still weeping. I had never seen someone look so lost in their own home.

I could barely tear myself away from the keyhole to call the others. They flew up eagerly, questioning me beneath their breath, but only I shook my head and knocked on the door.

We all heard the lady dust pixie cry out eagerly, “Finn, is that you?”

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Duh-duh-duh-DUN! 😀 That was a lot of fun to write. I hope you liked it, guys!

***Allison***