Chapter 10: Pixie Politics
"They cannot treat us as outsiders!" one exclaimed louder than Casey had ever heard a pixie speak before.
Ivan whispered out of the side of his mouth, "Wait." They had already entered the clearing and were facing the crescent-shaped pool of rippling water which flowed from the cistern where the pixies poured and churned the liquid. They stood where they were and listened. The pixies took no notice.
"Rightly so. We have a right to the Zource!"
"Yes! Yes!" rejoined many tiny voices.
"Who are they, to accuse us of stealing water?"
"Patience. We have always striven to keep the peace," a fatherly voice responded.
"They have always given grudgingly. We want no more peace!"
"They've ostracized us and subjected us to their rules for taking from the Zource for centuries."
"Yes! We have had to bear enough!"
"What are they talking about?" asked Casey in a low voice.
"It's about the water supply. Shhh! Listen."
"I know the truth of your argument. I, too, have felt the pangs of their exclusion; but their tribe has always been assiduous in caring for the Zource," spoke the patriarchic voice of the reasonable-sounding pixie again.
"That is due to their desire to keep the water for themselves. They've had it for years. We must take back the Zource!"
"Take it back! Take it back!" repeated the other pixies.
"Who will come with me to reclaim the task of Zakree Zourcezerver and his tribe?" incited a pixie.
"Indeed," the winged wise one agreed. "And which family will take the lifetask of guarding and clearing the mouth of the Zource in place of them?"
"We would," answered one, "but we've expanded within our rock to accommodate our tribe twice. There is no room for expansion in the rock of Zakree Zourcezerver; and everyone knows the dwelling is in a terrible state.
"We must see to the pollination of the Beath blooms," said another. "They were not plentiful last season. Our tribe is too small to divide and fulfill both tasks."
"Who else is there who wishes to make excuses? Does no one want the task?" There was only the sound of fluttering wings in response. "Then it remains with the Zourcezerver tribe."
"Ziad Briartamer, they must be spoken to. Someone must hold council with them. They cannot deprive us of the water that is ours!"
"I will ask for an interview with Zakree myself. If he is accepts, you will hear it by the evening, and may send your criers to meet me at the gate of the Arched Mountain on the morrow after the second pour," answered Ziad.
The pixies dispersed into the ever-zooming droves. It seemed the meeting was adjourned.
After receiving their portions of the crystal, sweet water, Casey and Ivan did not linger. The excitement of those brief moments of the pixies' "council" left Casey with a sense of anticipation. What would occur? Would there be a war between the pixies? She kept her questions, as her taste buds lingered over the remnant of cool water in her mouth. It was strange; when she drank of the pixie's reservoir she was always reminded of the night she had been so sick, when Ivan had brought her water. It had tasted so much better then. She yearned for that refreshment, and looked forward to her visits to the watering place. Yet, the drink never met with her expectations. It was a constant craving within her to know that initial taste, though she would never desire to revisit that time of intense agony.
"What is 'the Zource'?" she asked Ivan finally. "Is that the water in Kapyn's cave?"
"No. I have only heard it discussed once before. It is brought from a distance. Occasionally, the Zource water is poured in and mixed with the water from the cave. It looks different."
"Different how?"
"I don't know. It just gleamed."
"Gleamed?"
Ivan shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it."
"Was it really water?"
"I guess."
"What did the pixies tell you?" pressed Casey.
"Tell me about what?"
"About the Zource!" she spoke, exasperatedly.
With irritation, Ivan responded, "That it is brought from far away. I told you that!"
"That's it?"
"You don't seem to understand: pixies don't feel any responsibility to tell others where things come from or what they do."
"But they told you…"
"Sometimes you can discover a little info here or there. But don't count on them to be that helpful. Their purpose is to work and fulfill the job of the tribe. Whatever it is they are caring for will get done, and if you aren't any better informed by the end of the day, that's not their problem." Ivan spoke bitterly, and Casey perceived that he must have had great difficulty in the past with this.
"Have you tried helping them with their tribe's job? Perhaps, they would be more agreeable to-,"
Ivan's frustration was revealed in a darkening of his features. "They don't want our help! Unless they just happen to be in a particularly good mood – or another human happens to be interrupting their sleep – they see no need to make attempts to be communicative with people."
She opened her mouth, preparing to speak again, when he interrupted. "I'm not answering any more questions. You've got eyes and ears; go figure it out for yourself!"
Casey's mouth clamped shut, and Ivan did not pay attention to her until they reached the maddlepone meadow. The golden shoots pointed their tips toward the ambivalent, pale sky. He lifted his hand to pinch one of the stems below a bud, effortlessly sliding his nails down the stalk. The separated kernels fell into his other hand. "Here," he offered, reaching his laden fist to pour the granules into hers.
Instead of taking it, she chose her own maddlepone stalk and extracted the seeds herself. Taking one from the others in her hand, she put it into her mouth and worked the outer layer off with her tongue, never looking at him.
A/N: And now Casey's getting tired of Ivan's short temper.
Hazelcloud: I knew it would take some time to get to this chapter about the pixies. But this is more insight into the pixie world and their issues. More to come in future chapters. Thanks for the time you take to review. It means a lot.