Summary
Gowan is a normal, practical pixie, living an idyllic pixie life. All of that comes to an end one hot, summer day when the Queen of the fairies comes to collect a tithe to Hell and she wants a pixie....
Based on the ballad True Thomas.
Author's Note
The Pixie Gowan is a tiny tale that explores the origins of Gowan, Nate Arbinger's pixie and companion-at-arms in the novel, Helwyn.
From the moment of conception, Gowan was a lively character, trying to hog scenes, stealing dialogue, flitting about the pages of Helwyn demanding to be seen. It was a challenge to contain this little pixie and let Molly and Nate's story be told. I thought once Helwyn was finished and the next book started, that Gowan would settle down, but no, it clamored loudly in my head, buzzing around, insistent that I give the pixie its due and dedicate a story to the ball of energy that is Gowan. As a writer, I know that when a character demands attention as Gowan did, that you had better give it to them. So here, Gowan, here it is–your story in all its glory, where you came from, and how you became the companion to a Helwyn.
Kate Lockridge
Kate Lockridge
THE PIXIE GOWAN
Songs of the Helwyn Series
Helwyn Press
License Notes
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission from the author. This is a work of fiction and any names, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.katelockridge.com
www.facebook.com/kate.lockridge
[email protected] Cover Design and Illustration: Kate Lockridge
Copyright ©2014 by Kate Lockridge All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced or distributed without permission.
Digital Edition: May 2014
A Helwyn Press Book
The Pixie Gowan
'Elphan it's a boney place,
In it fain wid I dwall;
But ey at every seven years end
They pay the tithe to hell
True Thomas
The summer day was hot and the bright blue sky was as clear as a bell. The scattering of apple trees that grew at the edge of the thick forest were laden with fruit. The apple trees were old. The creature that had carried the apple that bore the seeds for these trees, had long since died. The legacy of its appetite: this grove of trees that flourished in the last of the cleared land before the dark edge of the forest. The creature's descendants now ate from these trees and scattered their seeds to other clearings. But this stand was the first, and the trees were more sentient than most, vibrating with energy, drawing creature and insect alike to their fertile branches. Life buzzed around the trees like a city's worth of people.
The pixies took notice of the activity and left their cool caves on the hot days of spring and summer and came to the wild orchard for nectar and apples and company.
Pixies buzzed around the trees now, the light around their bodies nearly invisible in the bright sun. As the young pixies played, the elders gathered food to take back to the caves.
Gowan was glad to be young and not to be working. There would be years enough of work ahead, so it would enjoy the brief time left to it before the Choice. Young pixies played and learned until then. The Choice was the bridge between young and older, when a pixie found its mate, chose its gender, chose its life work. There was no telling when the Choice would happen. You were young, and then one day you woke up and the Choice was before you. Gowan had not felt the need to choose yet, but many of the pixies born in its time had, and they were now working with the elders gathering supplies in the tall grass around the trees, harvesting the apples and other nearby fruit.
Not Gowan. It was sleepy with sunshine and the idle thoughts meandering through its mind, and it was practically sure that it did not want to wake up to be older anytime soon.
The pixie settled comfortably on top of a large, green apple, riding the fruit as though it were a robin. The apple swayed gently as the wind rustled through the bright green leaves of the tree. It could hear the other young pixies, flitting around the base of the tree in a game of tag that had not drawn blood yet, but might. Young pixies were not taught to be gentle, but to survive, and games were one step below battle, and more fun for it, Gowan thought. But then Gowan was a practical pixie, and saw the value in rules and ritual, just maybe not always for itself. Not today.
In the grass below the apple tree, Gowan's best friend, blond-haired Peridot, was paring with the red-haired, Gilly, and was soundly winning.
“Gut the vermin!” Gowan shouted good-naturedly to Peridot.
The pixie raised its head to Gowan and returned the comment with a fierce and effervescent grin that tugged at some place in Gowan's heart. Peridot was the best of them all.
Gowan stretched and yawned as a gust of wind blew through the clearing.
The air was singing again.
Gowan felt songs on the air as another would feel a breeze. They ruffled against the pixie's skin like a gentle summer wind and lifted the wispy strands of dark hair from its smooth forehead. The songs had been spinning through the air fast and furious this day. Gowan had caught a few of them as they passed by and hummed their tunes and softly sang their words in a drowsy stupor.
The pixie swung on the apple, both legs astride the thin stem, small hands clenched around the green leaves that jutted out on either side of the stem. Its eyes closed as bees buzzed lazily in the blooming flowers near the apple tree and it began to hum. One song in particular had filled the pixie's thoughts this day. It had heard this song before. The name floated languidly around in its head like a petal on a stream until the name of the tune finally came ashore and the name made itself known. True Thomas, a ballad about fairies and a tithe to Hell...
“You would have been wise to have listened to the words of that song, little pixie,” a woman said, her voice soft, musical, enchanting.
The sunlight dimmed against Gowan's closed lids. A hush has fallen over the clearing. Gowan opened its eyes and looked down upon the speaker.
The fairy Queen.
Its blood turned to ice. How could pixies have been so careless as to let fairies creep up on them undetected?
The Queen was beautiful. Tall, like a human, and slim, her long hair glimmered like spun gold and her blue eyes made the sky pale by comparison. Her skin was radiant in the light, making the sunshine more dim because of her glow. Her expression was soft as she looked at Gowan, but Gowan was not fooled. The queen was not in this orchard to do a kindness for the pixies. She was there to collect them for her pleasure as though they were pets to be kept and used for her court's amusement. Well, Gowan thought with a silent huff, it would not be used by the likes of any fairy!
The Queen laughed and lifted her hand toward the pixie. “You are a fighter, aren't you? And a bearer of song. I have need for a creature such as you.”
“A bee is a creature,” Gowan returned with little finesse. It climbed off the apple and launched itself to hover before the Queen. “I am a pixie.”
“Yes, you are.” The Queen nodded, smiling, her hair a glistening river of gold. “And there is more fire in you than the rest of this piteous group put together.”
The Queen swept her hand toward the base of the apple tree trunk.
Gowan felt its stomach sink into a pit. Peridot and five other young pixies were lined up along the gnarled roo
t of the apple tree. All of the other pixies were gone. How could the elders have left them here to be caught by the fairies? Only the shivering six were left to face the fairy Queen. Gowan dove to their side, its heart in its throat at this unfortunate turn of events. It hovered before each frightened pixie.
“Are you fine?” It asked of each one, sharing its glow with them, not moving on to the next until that pixie nodded. Finally, it flew to Peridot at the end of the line. Sweet and fierce, Peridot was its dearest companion, its friend and loyal pixie-in-arms. Peridot met Gowan's glance with a grim expression. An angry flash passed between them at their predicament and Gowan knew that in spite of their fear, none of them standing here would tolerate being held by the fairies without a fight. Gowan placed itself protectively between the fairy Queen and the other pixies.
“You are a brave little soul, aren't you?” The Queen said, her head tilted to the side and a smile curling up the corners of her mouth.
The smile did not reach her eyes though. Her expression was calculating, curious, and something else hid behind it that made Gowan distinctly uncomfortable. If it hadn't been obvious before, it was now: the young pixies were in deep trouble. This was not an ordinary grab a pixie for a pet raid, this was something more frightening, something so serious and important that the fairy Queen herself was