Frayed Knots

by FountainPenguin

"It's not my problem if you're embarrassed, Anti-Cosmo," H.P. said as I hugged my shoulders. He scratched his chin. "Hm. I suppose there's no help for it. If you honestly and truly want to wear a hat, then you'll have to secure a high position of power so no one ever dares to say anything about it that's negative in the least." (Written August 2016 - Ongoing)

20. Picture the Perfect

A/N - This chapter parallels the first half of the Origin of the Pixies chapter "Fruitful Fruition"

(Posted October 13, 2018)

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Picture the Perfect

In which Julius begins his internship at the Eros Nest, and struggles with his self-identity

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Dear Dame Venus Eros,

My name is Julius Anti-Lunifly. I am just over 130,000 years old. I recently completed my Lower School education at Frederick Shinesworth, with high hopes of progressing into Upper School and then to the Fairy Academy someday. There, I plan to study genies. I've been raising a genie doe myself for the last several thousand years, and when she eventually comes into maturity and desires to give birth to candles of her own, I wondered if you might allow her to breed with…

I halted midway through dotting my last 'i' with a heart. Scowling, I crumpled up the scroll, tossed it over my shoulder with all the others, then buried my face in my hands. "Oh, smite me. She'll think I'm stupid if I say it like that."

Mona, reading a reptile book in the chair near my waste bin, lay her talon on the page and glanced up. "What? Why?"

Without lifting my head, I said, "You can't simply ask a major celebrity like Venus Eros, Triplet of the Morning herself, if you can breed your genie with one of hers. Oh, I wish my break from school could be more productive, but all I have to show for my efforts is wasted parchment and wasted time. But…" I sighed. My hands came down. "I don't know. Maybe Dm. Venus would allow me to intern under her, and I could work my way up the ladder." I thought about that. Then I thought about it some more. Gathering my dirty quills, I mused, "Yes, perhaps she might take me on. I'm one of the only Anti-Fairies to receive an education since the war. I mean, that does play out in my favour. I wonder if she'd be willing at all to aid me, and perhaps write me a letter of reference when the time comes to submit my Fairy Academy application? After all, she belongs to the Eros bloodline. Her name carries authority, and they really only want what's best for us, don't they?"

Mona sat up straighter. "You're earnestly after education and experience at the Eros Nest?"

I smiled. "Oh, in the end, I'd love to be on close enough terms with Dm. Venus that I could work beneath her as an almost-equal. It will simply take me some time to work my way up to a position where I may meet with her at all, I think. Yes, I think I will try to meet with her. I suppose it's worth asking what steps I ought to go about to do so."

Mona bit her lip. She shut her book and leaned forward, folding her arms. "Aren't you worried? I mean, Fairies are deeply direct in general, but people always promise Dm. Venus is highly harsh."

"She's the counterpart of the cruel damsel who bottled up my lifesmoke and left me on a shelf for two months," I pointed out as I slung my bag over one shoulder. "She can't be that bad."

"'kay. I'll come with you, keeping kindly company."

"Right. I'll fetch Lohai. She'll want to come along." She was big enough now that her travel lamp - a large carpet bag - had grown inconvenient to carry. Yes, once sealed inside she shrank to the size of my fist, but sealing her up required her to fit snugly in. Hmm. You know, I really needed to get around to learning size-altering enchantments one of these days so I might increase the amount of space inside a container without altering its outer dimensions. Not my area of expertise in school.

And so with Anti-Bryndin's permission, Mona and I set off across the border to Fairy World. Jorgen wasn't on duty at the crossing station this time, and I was almost disappointed. I'd grown to enjoy the debates that regularly sprang up between us while I waited for my passport to be approved. Ah, well.

Our time in Fairy World was expected to last a week. Mona and I passed the city of Serentip by, but took our time wandering Faeheim, enjoying traditional Fairy foods and giggling our way through tourist shops. We spent our nights roosting in soft, silver-leaved trees. But eventually, we turned our attention back to the Nest and boarded a tramcar on the orange line. When the doors had closed and we'd left the station behind, I opened Lohai's travel container and allowed her to seep out into the car. She emerged in a pillar of rose-coloured smoke, small and round and growing up much too fast for my liking. Imagine- Me, the surrogate father of a grown, intelligent child!

After reforming, Lohai glanced around with some bewilderment. Then she looked at me. "Papa? Where are we?"

"The final tram on our way to the Eros Nest. We're nearly there now."

She glanced between me and Mona. Then the windows. Then me again. "Why did you release me here?"

"Well, so we might enjoy the ride together, of course. And besides that, Mona and I wanted to rest our wings. The way to the Eros Nest is all uphill from here, and this will get us there faster. Besides that, it's fun."

Lohai settled unhappily on the bench opposite us, folding her arms. She tucked her tail away beneath her with a silky flip like the toss of a scarf. "I hardly consider this an improvement over my prior circumstance. This new lamp rattles about in such a noisy manner. Put simply, I don't like it."

I sighed. Genies. For a people who don't leave the confines of their own dwellings much, they certainly are an awfully critical lot.

Shortly, we pulled up at the Nest. Lohai slipped into her travel bag before the tram door opened. We disembarked at the tiny station. Then, with Mona's hand on my shoulder, I approached the double doors at the entrance of the Eros Nest. They slid apart automatically. I jolted. Mona's fingers squeezed.

We found ourselves floating inside the oh-so-familiar cheerful pink welcome area. My shoulders relaxed at once. I tilted back my head. Purple starlight streamed in through the glass overhead. A blocky, n-shaped desk took up the left side of the room. Two white-haired cherubs sat behind it. They both snapped to attention when we strolled in. I brushed Mona's hands away, leaned my elbows on their desk, and smiled and them brightly.

"Top of the morning to you both, boys! Oh dear me, it's been some time since your mugs were on my radar. Francesco, you're as dashing as I remember. I see you've cut that raggedy mullet at last, and I must say, it's a wonderful look on you. Well?" And here I spread my arms. "Tell me that you missed me! And then pencil me in for the earliest appointment you have available. I'm here to see dear Vinnie. Goodness, I daresay it's been awhile."

The two cherubs, their jaws falling open, exchanged a glance. Francesco brought his hands to the back of his head, and Albert sized me up as though I were a moth beneath his shoe. "How do you know Dm. Venus?" he asked.

The stunned expressions on their faces made me burst into laughter. "Ahahaha! Ohh, you jest! Why, I'm a dear friend of her grandfather, Euan. Come now, don't you recognise me? Think a little harder if you must. It will come to you eventually."

Albert and Francesco looked at one another again. One said, "I'm afraid Dm. Venus can't see you on such short notice, but we could send Drk. Euan down to see you, if you'd like."

I hesitated, wondering if Dm. Venus truly was unavailable right now, or if they were simply making excuses for her. Then again, it was nearly noon. Dm. Charite, Triplet of the Afternoon, would have taken up her shift firing love arrows by now. As Triplet of the Morning, Venus' shift of distributing love throughout the universe ran from midnight until about 8 o'clock. It was probably only 9 at the moment, so she was very likely resting after the constant loading and reloading of her bow. "Yes, well… Do send him down. It's been so long since we've spoken, and I'm sure he'll be delighted to see me."

Both cherubs nodded, in slow motion. Mona and I retreated to the padded bench on the far side of the entry room. When we sat, she brought her mouth very near my head and whispered, "I don't really recall you being friends with Drk. Euan Eros."

I twitched my ears. As far as the rest of the Castle knew, my nearly 70,000 years of absence had been spent wandering the cloudlands and the cosmos beyond. Mona was the only one who knew the truth about Liloei's lamp, which was almost unfortunate, as it deprived me of excuses. "Well, it got us in, didn't it?"

We listened in silence for the sound of feathered wingbeats in the corridor. After a moment, she turned and whispered, "But how will you make it last?"

"Just leave that to me, darling. I know what I'm doing." The moment Drk. Euan poofed into the centre of the lobby in a grand spiral of sparks and dust, I bounded up to him and threw my arms around his torso. "Huey!"

Drk. Euan grabbed my shoulders in his enormous hands, then pushed me off. I laughed, batting his fingers away as he pulled back his hands.

"Oh, even with these horrendous anti-eyes, I can tell Mother Nature's aged you kindly." Though, he'd gained a rather paunchy stomach over the years. I decided to keep that thought to myself, at least until I could think up a good zinger for it.

"I heard I was wanted," Drk. Euan drawled, squinting terribly. Poor eyesight was a family curse.

"Of course! Why, it's wonderful to see you again after all these millennia. It's Clarice, you know!"

He kept his fists where they were, one hovering near his cheek and the other draping from his folded arm. "What?"

"Clarice! You remember. Don't say you've forgotten; I was here for work bright and sunshine-early every day, year upon year."

I knew they were all staring at me, Mona included. My arms remained spread, hands upturned, but I stretched them just a bit further in the hopes that Drk. Euan would recognise my cheerful disposition. I kept my grin in place and even nodded at him.

"You're an anti-fairy," he finally said. "I've never dealt personally with Anti-Fairies. Not even my own."

"Clarice," I emphasised, close to tears with exasperation. "That was your nickname for me; you remember. Well, technically Stamp's the one who gave it to me first, but you know how it is. You called me Clarice, I called you Huey. Really, Euan, I'm surprised at you. My face isn't one that's easily forgotten, especially around here."

Drk. Euan turned to the cherubs behind the front desk. Albert had a crystal ball swirling with an incoming call just half a metre from his hand, but they were both staring at us. "I don't know who these people are," Drk. Euan said. "They're wasting my time."

"Huey!" I cried, aghast.

"Yes, sir."

"Our bad, sir."

Drk. Euan gave a short nod and disappeared with another poof. I shoved my wand between my fangs and bit down hard, pulling on both ends. "Oooh! The nerve of him. I say, is that any way to treat an old friend? Gods, he's an ungrateful lout."

Mona began to speak, but my ears snapped backwards, tracking the whispers behind me. Albert and Francesco. Rather than answer the crystal ball, they'd begun to gossip in low voices about the names I'd dropped. 'Vinnie' especially. I turned around, and they broke off. Albert finally answered the incoming call, while Francesco leaned across the desk, folding his hands.

"Yes, um. I just want to extend my apologies to both of you if your visit to the Nest today seems to have been a… waste."

I kicked the tile with my crumpled toes. "He doesn't remember me. Can you even believe that? After everything I did for him."

The cherub cleared his throat. "Perhaps I can interest you and your companion in a private tour of our facility?"

"Yes, yes, perhaps you might, but… Oh, drat!" I slipped my hands beneath my armpits, reasonably cross, I should say. "Hmph. In all honesty, I wish I could return to work here. Not to pick up my previous duties, of course, but I desire to be on the other side of things, taking notes and such. I'm interested in the study of Fairykind reproduction, you know. Oh dear, this isn't how I'd planned to begin this conversation. I realise it may sound crazy, me being an Anti-Fairy and all, but are there any possible opportunities you might consider extending to me, for the sake of my garnering experience in raising and possibly breeding some of the creatures you do care for in your facility? Perhaps I could show up to a few volunteer weekends here or there? I'm willing to work through Fairy holidays…"

Albert and Francesco exchanged yet another look. After a moment, Francesco said, "We… might be able to use you on our team. Without disclosing confidential details, Dm. Venus recently took on a new project. You did say you're interested in Fairykind reproduction?"

I nodded. "Certainly. Researching Fairykind reproduction has been my life's work since I was eight years old. I've read thousands of texts on the subject in multiple languages, and even from multiple planets.

Mona agreed with another nod.

"Might be just the position you're looking for," Albert announced. Francesco elbowed him in the side.

"Well. You have to realise it isn't our place to guarantee anything. However, if you would be interested in taking our tour, Albert and I can get in contact with the other members of the team, and possibly schedule an internship for you."

My wings lifted. I laughed and brushed my fingers through my hair. "Really? Oh yes, I would appreciate that immensely, thank you." At least I'd have the opportunity to see the genies now, and perhaps I could tip off my tour guide that I had a young genie of my own who could use a mate in the future. Certainly I'd need to visit the Anti-Fairies… Perhaps I might see Anti-Wanda again. I could introduce her to Mona. They'd get along swimmingly with one another- of this, I was quite sure. They both carried themselves with a bounce in their wings and a constant smile on their lips, although Mona's was cautious and humble, and Anti-Wanda's bold and adventuring. Oh, the stories we could swap… Anti-Wanda raised in the Eros Nest, me raised in a genie lamp, Anti-Wanda's affections for Anti-Juandissimo, Mona's for me, Anti-Wanda's fluffy curls, my eternally unruly scruff…

Francesco rang a white bell near his hand. Down the corridor, a door flew open. Instant wingbeats raced into the hall. Mona and I both turned to greet the frazzled, black-haired, bright-cheeked, tan-skinned drake who shot towards us like an arrow. Just outside the room, however, he pulled up his wings and landed on the floor. His eyes remained downcast. He held a clipboard in front of his waist, his forearms covering most of it and his hands wrapped around its bottom edge. When he bowed to Francesco, he spread his wings in that way Seelie always seemed to do to their high superiors. I waited for him to look up when he straightened his back again, but he kept his gaze firmly on the tile.

Although… his reason for doing so wasn't entirely shyness. I could sense faint hints of his emotions in the energy field, for instead of anxious, shifting footstep sounds pouring from his aura in endless waves, I picked up the steaming, bubbling noise that you hear when water boils over a low fire. There he stood, mute and servile, like a broken show pony.

"Juandissimo," Francesco greeted with a flourish. He spoke the word like a command, not a greeting. Still, that must be this new drake's name. He was young, I imagined. Older than me by about the same amount Anti-Wanda was. Which of course made sense, given that his counterpart was courting her. He kept his hair tied back, low. I tilted my head. Could the cherubs sense what Mona and I could? If so, did they even care? Juandissimo, clear as day, did not enjoy his work here at the Nest. Someone had forced this young drake to comply with rules he didn't agree with. Bitterness wreathed around him like paper flowers on a seasonal trellis.

Then the sound of cart wheels roaring down a dark dirt path hit my ears. I could hear the lantern swinging, casting light in all directions, and the howl of the wind rattling branches above. It boomed like thundering drums. I gasped aloud, pressing two claws against my lips. It couldn't be. But the sound of his aura…

"Oh! Why, you're not a legitimate fairy at all! You're a luz mala!"

Juandissimo did not reply. He did not nod, or flinch, or anything. He only stared at the floor, clutching his clipboard. I clapped my hands, unable to suppress the bouncing of my toes.

"Oooh, this is splendid! I've an interest in breeding genies, you know, and to actually meet a luz mala in the flesh, in modern times… I mean, I'm speechless. To stumble across a Fairy born of magic instead of natural means? Genie magic, too? Yes, you sound faintly like falling roses veiled in creek water, with a hint of flickering candles and rustling lavender on the side. Now that's uncommon. Ha! What are the odds? You're incredibly rare, you know, and I'm so very honoured to make your acquaintance, good sir. I truly am."

I held out my downturned palms, and both cherubs behind me inhaled at the same time. Oh. I faltered, my hands dropping just a tad, but I refused to lower them altogether. Juandissimo, his aura sounding more like a wheezing frog than simmering broth now, did not raise his head. He didn't touch me, either.

"You are not meant to speak to me, señor," he said, quietly. Though his comment was halting, he spoke with a powerful Elrulian accent, and all his 's' words began with soft 'eh' sounds.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry." Finally, I did pull back my hands, crinkling my forehead. "Are you that busy? Do forgive me. I didn't mean to be a bother. Though, I do hope you could make time for me in your schedule one of these days. As I said, it's truly a delight to come face to face with a luz mala in person. I never really expected it to happen within my lifetime. I mean, it's simply… Wow!" My hands flew to my temples. "Fomorian influence, you know what I mean? I've read about the technical aspects, but it's absolutely fascinating, isn't it? And I've met your anti-self, you know, but I never realised the two of you were nurtured within the same womb… It's just incredible to contemplate. A fairy and an anti-fairy, brothers of the same blood-water! Ha! You're so rare, and it's so fortunate I bumped into you here, and I just… Would you sign my passport?"

Juandissimo turned his head away, lifting the clipboard to his chest. "Señor, please, do not speak to me. I will show you what we have on our agenda today. Please come along."

"Oh, don't concern yourself too much with giving me the grand tour, darling- I know the way. I used to work here, you know. I'd rather hear about you!" As he began to flutter along the corridor, I kept pace beside him, clasping my hands. "Again, I must apologise. I'm so very sorry, and I say, I must be coming off as a ridiculous pest, ahaha. It's just that I'm rather star-struck. Really, I've spent years researching luz mala. It would have been decades, if there were more research out there than current literature provides. You see, there was once a time when I believed you were the answer to cracking the secrets of the Anti-Fairy reproduction system, and ending the need for the honey-lock once and for all!"

"Por favor, señor." Juandissimo closed his eyes. He continued flying forward anyway. "I am low and disgraceful. My fae blood is contaminated with impure magic. You are not to speak to me, and if the Eros family hear of this, you will get me into such trouble."

I stopped mid-beat. My wings stalled for a moment, the magic in my skin keeping me airborne for a few seconds longer. But then my feet landed on the ground. "'Low and disgraceful'? Nonsense! Why, you embody the primal missing link between Fairies and the ancient Aos Sí your people evolved from. You ought to be studied for the sake of scientific advancement, so we can increase our understanding of Fairykind anatomy. We're such difficult creatures to study, you know, when our people turn to dust and smoke upon our deaths…"

Without turning around, Juandissimo said, "I am being studied every day. The Eros family are very thorough in their work. Please follow me, señor."

I turned to Mona, and gestured after Juandissimo with both hands. In my lowest voice, I squealed, "He's biologically considered a fairy, but he was brought into existence with magic. Genie magic, if I am not mistaken- Yes, I do believe it was a genie. Wishbirthed! Can you even believe it? You can hear it in his imprint too, can't you? That, Mona, is the sound of a child who lacks a true mother; genies cannot honey-lock, of course, so when that much magic was forced upon a body, the honey-lock instantaneously reversed and his father had triplets. It doesn't even work that way for Boudacians. Oh, I simply must bring him something for his birthday. It's common misconception that all luz mala are born on the 24th of August, you know, just as we Anti-Fairies are always born on Friday the 13th. Well, not me, of course, but you know what I mean. Anyhow, I really must ask him when his actual birthday is. Isn't he simply delightful? I do love him so very much."

Mona smiled a thin smile, and placed a finger to her lips. "Take notes now, talk tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, of course, darling… But a luz mala! Here! I mean, if he were going to be anywhere it would be here, but isn't it fascinating? Oh, if I could but ask his father what it felt like to carry an anti-fairy pup and a fairy refract chick within his womb…"

Juandissimo led us through the winding paths of the Eros Nest, moving quite quickly and accurately for someone who still refused to look up. I wondered what colour his eyes were, and if I'd have the chance to find out before he left us today. He seemed determined to prevent that from happening. Gaze on the floor, he said crisply, "Please permit me to share with you some vocabulary, señor. You will wish to use it today. A holotype is the first identified member of his species, and is the one that all future members of a species are compared to in order to decide what it is that we call 'normal' or 'abnormal' for a species. Other members of the species that follow who are the same sex as the holotype are known to be paratypes. Third, a specimen used for study in place of the holotype, if the holotype is dead, or which we keep at the Nest for official study should our holotype require movement to another location, are neotypes."

I clapped my hands before he even finished. "Yes, yes, that's me! Read 'em and weep, I say!"

Juandissimo paused, his wings jerking. He turned his head very slightly, but kept his gaze rooted on his shoes. His tied hair slipped forward over one shoulder. "Ah, forgive my correction, señor, but you are what is known as an allotype. The common anti-fairy holotype, Anti-Finella Anti-Sunbeam, was a damsel. You are the opposite sex of the holotype, and this means you would be called an allotype, instead of a paratype. Do you see?"

I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers and curling my claws. "Oh, right. How foolish. Forgive me, for my awareness seems to have slipped for a moment. Yes, well. Being an allotype is fine, too."

Reaching the Fairykind enclosures would take some time. Our tour led us past several alien reptiles, and when I requested it, Juandissimo allowed us to detour. He, Mona, and I fell into step behind a little drake with bright scarlet hair and red freckles across his cheeks. Juandissimo kept the two of us between himself and the child, so I ended up a mere two handspans away from him. At that very moment, his father lifted him above the railing and pointed through the window glass into the water tank below.

"Did you know there exists a bird that cleans a Snobulac's teeth?" he asked his son.

My ears snapped forward. What? I glanced at them both, trying not to look like I was eavesdropping.

"Is that like the bird that cleans the rhino's ears?" the freckled child asked.

"That's right," said the older drake, clearly enjoying this. He ran his fingers through his son's frizzy hair. "The bird and the Snobulac trust each other. The Snobulac enjoys clean teeth, and the bird enjoys a snack. They both help each other, and they're both happy."

"Oh!" The little drake turned to his father, tapping on the glass. "They're like a gyne and drone."

My knuckles tightened on the rail in front of me.

"Yes, exactly. And, did you know that wild foops and ravens hunt together? The ravens can spy dying or dead animals from far away, but their beaks can't open a carcass. They have to wait for the foops to arrive. Then they all eat together. They work as a team."

The freckled drake grinned. "I want to have drones! We'll be like knights who rescue kittens and punch bad guys out the door!"

His father chuckled and returned him to the floor. They floated on. I stared into the grimy water tank, deaf to the soft conversation of the other patrons around me.

"It's a myth," I whispered to Mona. She turned, pricking up her ears.

"Mm?"

"That… thing he said. It's not true. I looked it up once. There is no bird that enters a reptile's mouth to 'clean its teeth.' It's all make-believe; the Snobulacs invented it a mere century before they began conquering some of the avian races of the universe. I mean, it doesn't make evolutionary sense to require a bird to clean one's teeth, does it now? It's nonsense and clever marketing."

"Oh," Mona said. She looked into the tank again, at the great reptile drifting through the water, eyes sunken and staring. Her shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, dear," I said, giving her a gentle hug with one arm. "I shouldn't have said that. Now I've gone and tainted your fun."

"No," she murmured. "I'm right as rain, thank you."

"The Fairies believe it. I shouldn't have spoiled it for you."

"It's nice to know."

Regardless, I pondered what the Fairy father had said to his child. He'd been so keen to assure the lad that gyne and drone relationships were mutual and natural. And I'd wanted to step forward and denounce his claims. The drones don't want that, I'd have said, as if I actually knew anything about drones at all. If our cultures were reversed, and it was Anti-Fairies who engaged in regular gyne and drone preening, what would I think of some smarty-pants Fairy telling me our practices weren't right?

They weren't, obviously. Fairies and Anti-Fairies deserved equal rights and respect. I was willing to fight not only for my people, but for Fairy drones too. I mean, it's wrong to treat another living person as such a blatant, lowly subordinate… right? As a harbinger of bad luck, I understand why people might call me "evil," and I acknowledge their right to that opinion, but even if I am evil by their standards, at least I'm not rude. That's why I supported Waterberry v. Reddinski.

I… I don't know. Maybe all this stuff about gynes and drones wasn't a subject I wanted to form an opinion on yet. Even if I had preened with Mickey before.

"The oxpecker and rhinoceros relationship is real, at least," I told Mona, hoping to cheer her up. I left out the part about how the bird was practically a parasite itself. When she turned, she smiled at me softly.

"I'm grateful and glad."

We left the reptile hall. Juandissimo guided us through his scripted tour on our way to see the Fairykind, though I didn't listen to most of it. The wide corridor we had just stepped into stung me with its familiarity. I stared down the hall in the opposite direction Juandissimo and Mona were looking. Juandissimo was saying something, and I interrupted him.

"I want to visit the will o' the wisps and see if anything has changed. Oh," I cried, spinning towards our guide. "I'm terribly sorry- I cut you off. Do go on."

Juandissimo hesitated. "The tour is yours, señor."

"Is it now? Then I want to see the will o' the wisps right away."

"I'm bemused," Mona chirped. "I basically betted on you beelining for your beloved genies first."

I blinked. Then I shook out my wings. "Oh. Yes, of course. That's what I meant. Just a slip of the brain. Let's go see the genies."

So Juandissimo took us to find the genies. Their enclosure wasn't as large as I expected considering how big genies were- twice as tall as we Fairykind, easily. All their soil was red, and a glimpse at their podium plaque indicated it had been imported from Planet Mars itself. So Mona's theory was true, then. The genies must require iron to live. Hmm. I searched up and down, but could only count two genies in total: A female with a shimmering lime green tail curled in a fork of the farthest tree, and a purple-blue male sunning himself on the russet rocks.

"Oh dear," I murmured, tightening my grip on Mona's hand. "He's quite a bit older than I was hoping for. He might be full grown and everything. I do hope Lohai won't end up with him."

Mona tilted her head. "The Nest does only have two. Chances are, they've been here for a while."

"True." Still, I frowned. "You know, I'm not seeing any baby candles. Genies are notoriously frisky, so I thought there might be at least a few about. I wonder what the Eroses do with them. Surely they would have some? Their whole thing is species conservation, after all. Hmm. Never mind that now. Let's go see the will o' the wisps. You'll love their enclosure, darling. It's the most gorgeous little thing, full of springy flowers in all sorts of colours. Their theme is 'woodland fantasy,' you know."

She hummed in amusement, floating after me. "It really must be something if you remember it that well."

"What? Oh, no. Actually, I've never been down that far in the Nest. I just… know what it looks like. I must have seen it in a book. You know how Anti-Fairy memories are."

Patient, obedient Juandissimo led the way without a word of complaint. My wings sagged when I saw our destination, so I landed silently on the floor. A large, open viewing area took up a large portion of the wall, by which I mean that it sounded like glass when I used my echolocation to see it. To the left side stood a podium plaque bearing descriptive information regarding the will o' the wisp race. I ignored it for now, as my eyes were drawn immediately above it. Pinned on a display to the wall, encased in a solid frame, was the actual portion of Ilisa's right wing which had been uncovered from the Soil Temple following the collapse. Torn off by falling debris mere moments before she'd died, it hadn't turned to dust with the rest of her body. Imagine that. They'd wanted to do that to her anyway, you know. Surgically remove her wings when she began getting on in years. If she hadn't been granted her freedom from the Eros Nest in order to serve in the war, they would have. The Eros Triplets. I blinked at the display, and flew up to touch my hand against the smudged glass.

"Dear," Mona scolded. "It definitely declares 'Don't dare touch.'"

I ignored her, pressing my second hand beside the first. Yes, yes, I know fae wings being donated to science isn't particularly unusual, especially courtesy of tomtes who lack the magic required to fly anyway, but this was Ilisa's wing. Leaning my nose against the glass, I squinted against the small lights within the frame. The soft wing was orange, swirled with intricate black and brown patterns. Tiny scales coated its surface. White spots speckled the tips.

"She entered the undercloud tunnels not realising it would be the last time she ever flew," I muttered, bowing my head. "She gave her life to save the Mulberry Division. No one knows whether it was accidental."

Mona and Juandissimo were both silent, and after a moment, I peeled my forehead and fingertips away. My attention wandered to the glass window on my right. None of the wisps on the other side flew up to greet me, or acknowledged my presence in any way. Can you believe that? Such ungrateful creatures. They lounged in a circle, giggling with one another and braiding each other's long hair, the damsels with their bright wings and the drakes with their dull brown ones. Well. All right, then. I slid along the wall, scanning the enclosure on the other side of the glass in its entirety. True to my memory, there were flowers everywhere. A grey pond. Rocks. A small wooden cabin sat in the back right corner, fenced off by a glass wall. I nudged Mona, then jumped my finger from one wisp to the next.

"That's Ribbon, you know. Sweet little thing. That's Dex. That's Winden. That's Celia. That's Flow."

"Wait." Mona shot me a peculiar look. "Which one was Dex?"

I paused. My claw scraped down the glass, scratching loudly. I pulled it to my chest. "I… don't know. The thought is gone now. Good smoke, my head. That's strange. Why can't I… remember…?"

Something was blocking the memory, trying to hold it back even as slips of it leaked around the edges. I rubbed my temples, then looked up again. My eyes locked onto the cabin in the rear corner of the enclosure, and I swallowed. My hands trembled.

"Oh. Oh. This is where they did it. That's where they brought her."

"Who?" Mona followed my gaze. "Ilisa Maddington?"

Silence. I stared at the cabin for a long moment, my shoulders shaking. Then I slammed both my fists against the glass. Thump! I screeched at the top of my voice- so much so that Mona and Juandissimo both slapped their hands over their ears.

"Huey! You KNEW! It's not an antidote. It's a poison! A POISON! How many did you paralyse? How many?"

"Julius?" Mona asked quietly. Her words broke my concentration. I blinked hard. Just twice. My wings snapped down. My fists went flat, cold palms pressed to smudged glass. Then I turned my head, pricking up my ears.

"Yes, darling? Did you say something?"

Mona took hold of my shoulders and rotated me around, so I faced Juandissimo instead of the wisps. His eyes darted to the floor before I could glimpse their colour. She whispered, "I guess we're gonna go."

"Go? Oh, no, that simply isn't possible! I haven't finished showing you around. See here, darling." I adjusted my monocle and peered down at the will o' the wisp plaque. "Ah! 'Will o' the wisps, colloquially shortened to 'wisps', are one of the most famous subspecies of Fairy. They are distinctly identifiable by their large, lightweight lepidoptera wings. Female wisps show bright patterns while males come in varying shades of brown and gray. Their natural habitat was once the cloudlands of Fairy World. However, difficult circumstances' - that's a polite way of saying 'extreme social prejudice,' believe you me - 'drove them from the cloudlands down to Planet Earth. The will o' the wisps disappeared into hiding underground and have since carved out intricate burrow systems where they live and raise their nymphs.'"

"Julius," Mona mumbled, tugging on her amauti sleeve.

"In a moment, darling. 'A group of wisps is called a procession. Will o' the wisp structure is matriarchal. Wisps form reverse harems, with one damsel claiming on average 2-4 drakes as her own. A wisp of high status may have as many as 12 regular partners. A wisp damsel can nurse up to four nymphs each breeding season, although the majority do not survive to adulthood (Daughters are especially susceptible to the effects of poor environmental conditions). Wisp damsels who present the gene for lepidoptera wings are known as 'butterfly damsels,' or 'dotties.' The dam shows clear favoritism towards her dottie offspring, a-and will kill any daughter who does not present the gene unless her nymphs are taken from her at once.'"

My voice cracked on those last words. I covered my mouth, blinking against my tears. "I remember that. Sh-she needed control. There's no other excuse for it. It wasn't to prevent them from other tortures the Eros Nest might inflict upon them. She simply wanted her wing mutation to survive. She thought her lovers went behind her back, and didn't believe her non-dottie children were her own. So she did it. She woke up one day and decided to kill them. It was the only part of her life she could control. It's horrible, really. It's horrible and I realise that, but we really shouldn't blame her. She didn't know. If she'd known they were hers, she never would have done it."

"Precious, please pause perusing. You're upsetting yourself."

"No. 'The species are true omnivores, although their usual diet patterns more closely mimic those of herbivores. The chemicals in their venom sacs reflect the hypothesis that a wisp kiss is a watered-down version of the deadly brownie kiss, further supported by the fact that Ilisa was a close descendant of Ky Braddocki himself. Even brief exposure to will o' the wisp venom is capable of paralyzing one's limbs for many minutes. The antidote for a wisp kiss is-'"

"Hey," Mona interrupted. "Look at that."

I tore my focus from the plaque, glancing into the enclosure after her pointing finger. I couldn't tell what had caught her interest, as none of the wisps appeared to be doing anything particularly interesting. But this time, I took her hint and held my tongue.

We didn't speak much on our way home to Hy-Brasil. Mona didn't bring up the will o' the wisps for the first tram ride of our journey, and neither did I. I spent the trip hugging my knees, gazing out the window at smears of fairy floss clouds passing by.

"It's repulsive," Mona said once. I looked at her, and she clarified, "That Ilisa really rid reality of her own dear daughters."

Exhaling, I squeezed my hands around my knees and said, "If she knew in advance she could not provide enough resources for both her genetic offspring and those that she believed to be illegitimate, then it was appropriate to end the suffering of the ones she couldn't care for and send them to their next incarnation."

"… Fairies don't believe in reincarnation."

"Ilisa did. She favoured the Zodii teachings, not the Daoist beliefs. Anyone Zodii can reincarnate. Even Fairies."

"You don't know that." Mona held my gaze, narrowing her eyes. She flipped the hood of her amauti over her frizzy hair and hunkered down. "It was certainly speculated she studied Zodii stories seriously, but no one ever confirmed. She killed her own kin. You can't excuse that with her beliefs."

Tilting back my head, I said, "I'm not saying I endorse infanticide, no, but I understand her reasoning. She was holotype of the will o' the wisp race. A child with lepidoptera wings was undeniably hers. Most Fairy crossbreeds carry blended wings. However, wisp wings are so different from any other variety that they're either there or they aren't; Ilisa only passed her mutation on half the time. She thought the wing gene was dominant, so when some of her daughters didn't carry it, she assumed they couldn't be hers. She killed these 'illegitimate' nymphs to ensure the survival of her dotties. I can't fault her for that."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm looking at this situation from a purely biological standpoint, darling. When discussing ways to assure the continuation of one's genetic line, one must never fail to mention the removal of competition from the breeding pool." Cocking one arm behind my head, I gave my other hand a swirl. "I certainly can't say I agree with the drastic methods Ilisa employed before the Eros Triplets intervened, but I do understand why she felt so hurt when she believed her lovers had betrayed her. Do recall that Fairy fathers don't carry their nymph within their brood pouch for only thirteen days before passing him along to the mother so she might carry him to term. Fairies do not honey-lock and their reproduction is wholly internal, so the mother cannot know absolutely whether her partner's offspring is her own. Ilisa made a choice to save her species from extinction. I'm simply acknowledging her reasons. Why, I myself could never truly love a child knowing they aren't actually mine, you know what I mean?"

Mona frowned. She sat up, bracing her palms on the cushioned seat. "No? What if my honey-lock partner is a drake, and I perhaps prepare for pregnancy one day? Possibly when you and I are married in the eyes of the nature spirits, and my pup is practically yours?"

I jerked my attention back to her. "Oh! Oh, no. Mona, I… I didn't mean it like that. Why, of course I'll stand by your side and support your pups with all my energy. You are to become my wife one day, after all. I only meant to say I understand why Ilisa favoured the survival of her own genetic offspring over anyone else's, and with all my research and theories, I believe I may finally be close to-"

"Your theories." Mona burrowed her hands in her sleeves and leaned forward, pressing her arms tight against her stomach. "Julius, give it up. You've been chasing trails into dead ends for 130,000 years. No Anti-Fairy has ever discovered a way to reproduce 'round the honey-lock. Why are you so sure that you'll succeed?"

My jaw slackened. I stared at her, my fists tightening behind my head. "You don't think I can? Why, if anyone will unravel this mystery, it's I. I'm the smartest anti-fairy who's ever lived!"

"It's 'me,'" she corrected, ducking her head. I flushed. We didn't speak to each other again for days.

Three weeks later, I had a job. The pay was incredibly low and I wouldn't see a coin of it until after my first six months, but it was in Fairy World, at the Eros Nest itself, so I accepted the offer. My first day, I dressed in my neatest clothes and carried Lohai in her carpet bag over one shoulder. Upon my arrival at the Nest, I was greeted by an incredibly tall cherub named Asher, who congratulated me on joining Dm. Venus' "secret project." He said he supposed he could put me to work filling out ethograms.

"Filling out what?" I asked, finally tearing my attention away from his nerve-wracking muscles.

"We'd like you to monitor the pixies' behaviours for us so we can tailor our enrichment program to meet their needs," he told me patiently.

Pixies? Did he say pixies? Perhaps I'd misheard him. "Pixiu?" I asked, already dreading the thought of dealing with those stubborn, solitary, overprotective spirits of wealth and friendship.

"Pixies."

I was none the wiser.

"Oh," I realised as I tailed him down the corridor. "You want me to observe these pixies and determine when they are bored, so you can give them something to do, and then have me note whether they seem satisfied when it's over."

Asher chuckled. "I wouldn't have used the word 'bored' with these fellows, but yes, that's what I'd like you to do."

The comment puzzled me for a moment, but I found out what he meant soon enough when he stopped in front of the very last chamber in the hall and waved his hand. "Julius, as a representative of the Eros Nest, I am proud to introduce you to our pixies."

There it was on the plaque fixed beside their door, plain as moonlight. Pixies: Faedivus quadratum. I blinked at it twice. The subspecies was entirely new to me. But sure enough, when I peeked at the large enclosure on the other side of the glass, I could plainly spy two "pixies" sitting beneath the tallest of the synthetic trees. The first was large, with square wings, shoulders as broad as his hips, and a scruff of black hair that ended in twin peaks at the front. My lips parted. My fingers loosened from the strap at my shoulder.

Mr. Whimsifinado.

He'd gotten a new hat sometime in the last three thousand years: a pointed grey one with a long tail that dangled down his back. It ended with a metal star. He dressed in more casual clothes than the vest he'd worn to Sugarslew, but I didn't have a doubt in my mind that that was him. And his nephew Mister too, tearing up handfuls of lush grass. And Anti-Fergus, as green and yellow as ever! And a tiny Anti-Mister! Or, well, one of his tiny anti-nephews, anyway. I leaned my hands against the rail below the glass window, blinking in absolute shock.

"Why- pixies are Fairykind! How can that be? I always thought I knew every fae species in existence."

Asher nodded. "They're rare. Stay here for a minute, and I'll poof off and grab the data sheets I want you to use in your observations."

He poofed off, leaving me alone with the plaque on the podium. "Hmm," I mused. I adjusted my monocle and squinted at it. "'Pixies are an all-male subspecies of Fairies who universally share identical genetics, and are tied to a single yoo-doo doll. They are distinctly identifiable by the sharp angles of their faces, black hair, lavender eyes, square wings, golden brown costas, stunted hindwings, and rapid way of striking anything or anyone they deem prey. Adult pixies are considerably tall and broad-shouldered.'"

Next panel. "'Most notably, the young develop in the sire's forehead chamber, and not in the lower body as one might expect. This is due to the high amounts of cytoplasm surrounding their eggs. A fertile adult gives birth to one nymph at a time by ejecting the newborn (encased in a hexagonal exoskeleton until instar) from his forehead dome. The race is inherently parasitic, given that the nymph must be nursed either by hand or (most commonly) by the lactating damsel of another race. However, all adult pixies are capable of supplying magic for secondary nursing until the nymph's sweat glands fully develop and allow for the Principle of Observation (the self-defense mechanism of the sweat glands that release an aura which makes it difficult for non-magical creatures to focus on them) to occur. As is the case in most species which reproduce at high rates, the sire has limited interest in raising his many young.

"'A group of pixies is called a company, and the social structure consists of a single dominant gyne (identifiable by his facial spots and larger size) who claims available damsels and preens his drones. If left unchecked, the dominant drake will kill subordinate gynes well before adulthood. There are no kabouter members of the race.

"'The species is omnivorous, but must intake high amounts of protein each day to maintain proper health. Additionally, samples of chemicals found in pixie saliva indicate that pixies have developed extreme resistance to alkaloids such as caffeine, allowing them to consume with no apparent adverse effects caffeine amounts (i.e. coffee, chocolate) which would kill any other member of the Seelie Court.

"'Pixies initiate sexual interest with plucking fingers and gently nipping teeth, and they are considered a critically endangered species, with only one fertile member of the population in existence at this time. Due to a mutation in their genes, anti-pixies are green and yellow instead of blue and black, while pixie refracts are brown and purple instead of white and gold.'"

Those were the facts, presented plain and simply like our innocent fae brethren were animals on display. I looked back and forth a few times between the simple painting of a naked pixie on the plaque (square-faced, arms by his sides, pointed grey hat floating above his head) and the living pixies on the opposite side of the glass. Hm. I shrugged. "Well then, fair enough. Pixies exist, and Mr. Whimsifinado and his nephews happen to belong to their subspecies. Emery must have paired with the fertile drake."

I considered that for a moment, then decided to reconstruct my view of the Whimsifinado family. Emery might not have any relation to Mister at all, which would explain her notable lack of a wedding band. If Mister was Fergus' nephew, then Fergus' brother must be the only fertile pixie in existence today (currently penned in a horrid old breeding room much like Ilisa's cabin, if I were to venture a guess). Those two must share the same pixie father. Perhaps Ambrosine had adopted his son shortly before the War of the Sunset Divide broke out. That would line up with what Mr. Whimsifinado had told me at Sugarslew, about never knowing who his mother was.

Still, I shook my head and adjusted the strap of Lohai's carpet bag against my shoulder. "I say, I had really better sign up for a Fairy Races class when I begin Upper School before these fellows go extinct. With only one fertile member of the population left, it would seem they're on their way out. Hm. Shame."

Asher returned with another poof, and presented me with a stack of crisp parchment. Once I had taken it, he moved to the end of the hall and pushed open the Employee's Only door. "We're going up to the observation deck," he said. "Everyone up there is an employee hard at work, so please keep your voice low."

That didn't sound easy to do, but I nodded anyway. We flew up the steps, and I quickly found myself in a very low-roofed room crowded with pink desks and fluttery white feathers. I counted eight cherubs gathered in a row near the front window. Everyone had water flasks and several picked-through food trays, as though they'd been here for days on end. There really wasn't anything else notable to see.

Asher gestured towards one purple-haired cherub with his wing. "That's Kendra. As you can see, she's currently monitoring the pixies to ensure they don't engage in any self-destructive behaviour. If they do, she'll use that yoo-doo doll on the table to stop them."

Indeed, a small doll with black hair lay between her hands. A thin thrill of power raced down my spine. "Will I ever work my way up to that point?"

"We'll see. For obvious reasons, only very trusted staff are permitted to handle yoo-doo dolls. You'd need to have five hundred years of work experience and pass a certification course before we so much as let you touch it."

"I understand." My mind wandered to Lohai, snug in her carpet bag at my side. How long would I have to work at the Eros Nest before I worked up the courage to request the Triplets allow her to breed? She was but a child for now, so I had at least that much time to devise my plans.

"Now. Like all Fairykind, pixies are Class B beings. By law, we have to provide them with enrichment every day." Asher crouched down between two cherubs busily scribbling notes, and pulled a box from underneath the table. This, he held out to me. "Today, we're going to give them puzzle pyramids with some animal crackers slipped inside them. Pixies like puzzles and animal crackers."

"Excuse me," I said without thinking. I realised too late that I'd interrupted to change the topic, but forged on anyway. "Er, where did the pixies come from, may I ask?"

Asher shrugged. "They're fairy mutations, like Ilisa Maddington and Ky Braddocki."

"The first will o' the wisp and brownie," I recalled. I touched my fingertips to the side of my head. "I've done a lot of reading about Ilisa, you know. I'm interested in all walks of fae reproduction, so her name of course comes up quite a bit. Is it true that she was stunningly beautiful?"

"The most beautiful," he assured me, shifting the enrichment box in his arms.

I looked away, my cheeks seething. Yes, I know what I'd asked, but Ilisa had always wished to be remembered for her intelligence and clever wit. Not her beauty. She'd been very clear. My fist tightened around my satchel strap. "A-and, you kept her here in the Nest, breeding her with as many drakes as possible in an effort to spread her genes? Over one million times?"

"Not me," Asher insisted. "I wasn't born yet."

I supposed not. Ooh. I tried to imagine what that might be like, having drake after drake sent in for you to flirt and sing with, or having your sperm siphoned out to distribute behind your back. I found that I could picture the interior of Ilisa's cabin all too well. A dark breeding room like a cage, a pallet of animal skins, a screen door you could never seem to reach, voices chattering on the other side, like something from a daydream…

I shivered, hunching into my shoulders at the thought. Ky Braddocki had been a holotype too, and of course the Eroses had made efforts to breed him to preserve his species just as they had with Ilisa. However, I'd always imagined that she had it so much worse. After all, among Fairies, it was drakes who became pregnant. Ky could only carry one infant brownie at a time. Ilisa could mother hundreds of wisps within a month, provided she was presented with plenty of drakes. Or within a week.

Had she ever wanted to refuse? Wouldn't that be hard, to share the most private parts and thoughts of yourself with thousands of drakes who were strangers? It wasn't exactly a breeding ground for true love.

Oh gods, Asher was talking. I jolted back to attention, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. He was just wrapping up an explanation of the parchments he'd handed me - ethograms, he called them - and requesting that I keep time very carefully in order to be as accurate in my report as possible. I promised him he could count on me, and he left through the employee access door with the enrichment box.

I glanced at the long desk below the window. Every chair was full. I'd been given neither ink nor a quill with my papers. "Um," I mumbled to myself.

The fluffy-haired cherub at the end of the row turned to me and smiled. Before I could so much as open my mouth, she sprang up and offered me her chair. "Oh, no," I protested, flushing cold, but she insisted.

"Take it. I wanted a reason to stretch my legs anyway. I'm Ella."

"Julius."

We held our hands out at the same time. Awkward silence plunged around us. Hastily, I corrected my greeting by turning my hand sideways so I might grasp hers in a shake. She smiled and flicked her hair over her shoulder. No one else so much as glanced at me. I forced a smile, then let it die. All right. I settled into Ella's seat and peered through the window glass. Being on the observation deck, I had an excellent view of the enclosure below. It had been designed to mimic the habitat I assumed pixies might live in were they to run wild. The three thin trees in there were white with black markings and amber leaves, possibly ipewoods. Little wooden houses filled their upper branches. Far below, green grass filled the grounds, accented with shrubs, boulders, and a little dirt walking path. A stream bubbled from a waterfall in the rear corner.

The occupants themselves had suddenly become agitated. That much was certain. Mister had halted his grass-picking. He moved closer to the stream, where Mr. Whimsifinado sat, eyes on the enclosure door. A moment later, Asher floated in. He flew up to the upper portion of one tree, casually placed a puzzle pyramid in the crook of two branches, then left without saying a word. Just one pyramid. The small anti-pixie (too small to be Mister's own counterpart, I thought), ran up to the tree's base and squinted up at it, but neither of the primary counterparts moved for several minutes. Finally, Mister rose to his feet and crept towards the tree. He too stood, shielding his eyes and studying the puzzle pyramid. No one said anything. Then Mister set his hands against the tree trunk and began to scramble up, nimble as a squirrel.

"What are they doing?" I muttered, scribbling notes. "Why don't they simply fly up and grab it?"

Kendra, the cherub with the yoo-doo doll, glanced over at me. "Oh. Pixies can't fly. Anti-pixies can, but pixies can't."

I blinked. "Really? They appear to have functional wings."

"Their magic pools are stunted. They can hover up to eighteen inches above the ground, but they aren't true fliers like other Fairies or your kind. They're set to orient themselves above solid footing." Kendra pointed down into the enclosure at the pixie scaling the tree. He'd gotten quite high, which was making Anti-Fergus visibly uneasy (judging by his constant fur picking and sideways glances). "They can hover above each branch if they beat their wings, but if that branch were to suddenly poof away beneath them…"

"The pixie falls," I whispered, tightening my grip on my quill.

"Exactly. They're not good with heights. Now watch." Kendra pointed again, as if I wasn't already watching. "The drone is going to pick up the pyramid, but before he examines it, he's going to retreat somewhere he feels safe. Most likely, next to the gyne."

Indeed, Mister picked his way down through the topmost branches, then sprang from the tree and used his wings to float gently back to the grass. He approached his uncle, who had taken no visible interest in the proceedings yet. Mister sat next to him and twisted the top of the puzzle pyramid. Mr. Whimsifinado continued to kneel where he was, his fingers cradling the head of a tall pink flower growing beside the stream.

And then, in the time it would have taken me to blink, he had flipped the younger pixie over and pinned him face-down to the grass, hands to the back of his head. I jumped, bashing my knees against the underside of the desk. The puzzle pyramid bounced out of Mister's hand and towards the water. Mr. Whimsifinado launched himself after it, rolled a single time, caught it, then flashed back to his feet- with an uninterested expression printed across his face. The entire process had taken only two seconds. His hair had already been slightly scruffy near his ears, so he didn't even look as though he'd just tussled with his underling. He hadn't even lost his hat, although the star-tipped tail was now dangling between his eyes.

"Good smoke," I managed. "How am I supposed to document that?"

"Fast, isn't he?" Kendra asked, plopping her chin in her hands.

"I say, I didn't so much as catch any sign that he was going to move. One moment he was sitting there as calmly as a statue. The next, he was on top of Mis- I mean… the drone." I dropped my eyes to my parchment and inked out a brief summary of what I'd just witnessed. When I glanced up again, Mr. Whimsifinado was still standing at the stream bank. He gnawed at one corner of the wooden puzzle pyramid with an air of frustration about him rather than curiosity. Mister sulked in the grass, propped up on his elbows.

Kendra nodded. "Pixies are tricky that way. They're very difficult to read, and they're incredibly fast in short bursts if they've had the time to plan their movements out. If you can interrupt their careful schedules, you'll scramble their brains for a few seconds like they were under a butterfly net, and then you can round them up easily while they're stunned." Her hand strayed towards the yoo-doo doll. "He's going to chew straight through the box to get to the crackers. That's not what we wanted."

She gave the doll three solid taps on the head with her finger. Mr. Whimsifinado froze. Then he looked up at the ceiling. He wasn't focused on our general location, leading me to conclude he didn't know exactly where to find the observation deck, but he took the pyramid away from his mouth. Kendra scratched the doll's back between its little square wings. Once he received the signal, the pixie sat down and began to fiddle with the puzzle using his hands, twisting and sliding pieces back and forth while the others looked on from a respectful distance.

"Is that doll really synced up to the entire pixie race?" I asked, turning to my ethogram again. "Doesn't that cause problems if you hope to use it to punish or reinforce the behaviours of just one, er… specimen?"

"It probably would. But there are only eight pixies in existence right now, and we know where they all are, so we can afford to disrupt them a small amount without arousing ethical issues."

I looked again at the three pixies and two anti-pixies in the enclosure. "Oh."

His species was nearly extinct. Ice rose in my cheeks, settling below my eyes. I ducked my head and clamped the claws on one hand in my hair.

This sort of thing went on for days, then weeks. I applied for Upper School that zodiac cycle, but spent every spare moment of my time in the Eros Nest filing ethograms. Pixies, as it turned out, were largely yawn-inducing for my fellow workers, but I never found myself bored watching them. It was just so… so… liberating to be on the outside of the cage, tracking behaviour and preparing healthy diets. I found myself gasping in delight when the third pixie in the enclosure (I'd never learned the infant's name; he was simply "the nymph") mastered the ability to perform expert flips mid-flight as he raced from one end of the chamber to the other. I chuckled when Anti-Fergus startled his counterpart with a splash of stream water in the face that initiated a game of push-and-shove, and wept silent tears when the cherubs around me calmly recorded the sound of Mr. Whimsifinado whimpering himself to sleep in the early hours of the morning, long after his companions had retired to bed. The first time I ever witnessed him lift his nephew into his lap and bathe Mister's face softly with his tongue, I took two copies of notes - one for the files, one for me - feeling very grateful to finally steal this glimpse into the tender intimacies of Fairy life. That was what preening was meant to be. Careful, gentle, sincere, and something that had an instant calming effect on the anxious drone. None of this impersonal rubbish with donor pheromones.

But I am ashamed of myself. I couldn't say for sure precisely when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I found myself naturally referring to Mr. Whimsifinado as "the gyne," his moustached counterpart as "the pilot," and their respective nephews as "the drones." I only noticed how habitual it had become one day approximately 400 years after I'd begun my internship.

Three more pixies, newborns, had joined the others in the enclosure. I'd requested time off to focus on a particularly difficult term in school, so I didn't know all the details of their birth or parentage, and had been too shy to waste anyone's time by asking. A few days after that, during one of my afternoon ethogram recordings, something terribly upset the gyne. The other pixies and anti-pixies in the enclosure frolicked as they usually did, but not the gyne. Not today. He crouched on a boulder beneath the largest tree, his eyes locked on the door and his strange square wings lifted behind him. His too-small pink shirt slid up near his arms when he leaned forward, exposing the faintest glimpse of a slit along his torso. For once, he didn't make the pernickety effort to fix it.

An entire minute passed. He didn't move, and for the smoke of me, I couldn't understand what had him so riled. Then he made a sharp chittering noise with his teeth. Instantly, the nearest newborn pixie abandoned the stream and raced towards him. The gyne lifted one of his arms, allowing the nymph to scramble headfirst into his stomach pouch and disappear. The other pixies scattered. Once the child was secure, the gyne launched himself upwards with a pump of wings. He grabbed the lowest tree branch. Fast as ever. Then he flipped himself on top of it and crawled along until he found a perch he liked. Poised, he stayed there, still focused on the door. Silent. Two wingbeats later, it flew open. Three cherubs marched in, their broad shoulders squared. The gyne backed hand-over-hand up the branch, hunkering low.

I squinted. My quill trembled above my ethogram sheet. "What are they doing?"

"Let's see." Ella glanced down at her own parchments, then slid them over to me. "Ah. It's the fertility question again. The Eroses have been studying his eggs in an attempt to understand pixie fertility, or lack thereof. They believe they may have cracked the code at last. They're going to take the gyne in for another surgery, put him under a sleeping spell, and perform in-vitro fertilisation with sperm drawn from a will o' the wisp. We'll see if it takes."

"He doesn't seem eager to go," I said as the gyne darted to a higher branch in a blur. "His wings are sweeping forward past his shoulders. He's making that twitchy finger gesture. He's showing his teeth." My knuckles tightened around my quill. "Those are his nervous behaviours."

Kendra shrugged her wings, the feathers bunching. "Coincidentally, they're his courtship behaviours too. Or so rumour has it. No matter. If he doesn't offer to go willingly within the next minute, I'll just use the yoo-doo doll."

I glanced over at her, pressing my forefingers into my lips. "Is it ethical to stress him out unnecessarily? Surely there's a gentler way to ease him into the concept."

"Julius?" That was Ella again. She was frowning now. "How about you do your job, and we'll do ours."

I stared into the enclosure for another silent moment. Mister flew back and forth in disarray, wringing his tiny hands. A couple of anti-pixie pups stood off to one side, their eyes round and ears pinned back in fear.

Then I grabbed my access key and shot down the employee stairs. I burst through the lower door just as the three cherubs were dragging Mr. Whimsifinado from the enclosure by the wrists. He dug his heels into the floor, wings spinning wildly. They clashed against the doorframe. Juandissimo hovered a short ways away, scribbling notes on his clipboard, which he kept pressed against his thigh so he could keep his head bowed.

"Stop it," I blurted, squeezing my hand around the door handle. "Let him alone!"

No one even glanced at me. Mr. Whimsifinado's strength came through for him; he yanked his enormous hands away. The blue-haired cherub made a grab for his arm, but Mr. Whimsifinado kicked her in the stomach and then kneed her in the jaw. All this with a nymph inside his stomach pouch, let's not forget. At top pixie speed, he zipped off down the corridor. There wasn't time to draw my wand, so I used my natural magic to disappear. A wingbeat later, I popped in front of him with an audible foop and puff of smoke, my arms raised to brace myself for the impending collision.

But it didn't come. Instead of bowling me over, Mr. Whimsifinado immediately scrabbled to a halt. Both hands flew to his cheeks. His eyes darted left, right, up, down, and finally latched onto mine. His chest heaved. For about five seconds, he stared at me with his pupils shrunken and his face twisted with absolute panic. He didn't seem to know what to do. Then he threw his hands into the air beside his head and shrieked meaninglessly in my face. My ears went back, but I stood my ground. When he went to grab his hair in both fists, I reached up and slipped my hands into his.

"Shh, shh…" Despite his beating wings and jerky shuffling movements, I clung on. I traced my thumbs over the wrinkles there, doing my best to keep my claws from pricking his skin, and just made quick circular movements against his palms, over and over. I floated higher, folding my legs behind me. "Hey, hey, shh…"

As his focus started to ease back in, Mr. Whimsifinado lowered his wings. His feet sank back to his heels. He blinked. His flared pupils dilated back to their regular size. I drew my hands away, in slow motion.

"Yes, that's it. Better now?"

"Um. Y-yeah. Thanks." He rubbed his knuckles as he turned around. Smoke, it had been so long since I'd actually heard him speak…

When I leaned around him, half a dozen cherubs were staring at me. Even Juandissimo had lifted his head. His eyes were violet. His quill plunged from his hand to the floor. I glanced from one end of the row to the other. "What?"

"How did you get him calmed down like that?" one cherub demanded, an arrow tipped with fast-acting paralysis magic drawn back to her cheek.

"Um." I drifted backwards as all their eyes zeroed in. "I've just been watching his reactions. In filling out the ethograms, I've learned a few of his behaviours. He became so stressed just now that he began regressing into his native state, and I thought this might could help."

"Into his what?"

"His native state. You know, like an Anti-Fairy who tries to fight the honey-lock after midnight. His insect instincts were taking over. That's why he was making the chirping sounds instead of using his words. I, uh… just focused his overwhelmed senses on something simple and repetitive in order to ground him in reality again. Um." I glanced away and rubbed behind my ear. Even Mr. Whimsifinado was watching me now, his teeth set uncertainly and his hands flat against his chest. "I- I've seen him do that same thing with the thumbs making circles on the palms to soothe the drones when they get anxious. I just got, you know" - I crossed my fingers - "lucky that it works on him too. I didn't know if it would. That was fortunate. I didn't really do anything. Maybe helping those who are stressed find their focus just comes naturally to me, Water year and all. You can thank Sunnie for it."

They continued to gaze after me as I made my way back up the stairs. No one in the observation room even glanced up when I came in, although when I sat down, Ella smiled in a blissfully unaware way. Of course. She could only see the enclosure in front of her. Not the corridor below.

"Did you get a good look at him up close? Fascinating creature."

I settled back into my chair beside her, picking at my claw. "I heard you're releasing them back into public society before the year is out."

"Some of them. We're going to place the pixie, anti-pixie, and refract pixie neotypes all together in this enclosure so they'll have their social needs met, and repurpose the old pixie refract one. We haven't officially decided yet, but we're tempted to keep it as a breeding room for pixies in the future. We've literally observed no in situ courtship behaviour even when we "accidentally" left the gyne with a fairy damsel in heat. While his season was coming on, too. He's so stubbornly shy when it comes to romantic pursuits, you know, but we'll find his type eventually. No one can resist forever. Interest in damsels would have been preferable for our case study, but bringing him together with a drake might have to do. Oscar says he has a thing for Dm. Venus, but I think he's into Unseelie Courters, if you know what I mean…"

A breeding room. My wings trembled. Trying to distract myself, I popped out my monocle and wiped it against the hem of my coat. It came away smudged.

Always knew the brat would turn out to be a cream puff, Ambrosine's damefriend had told my eight-year-old self. In my desperate need to paint Fergus Whimsifinado as my hero, I'd believed her. But Ambrosine had said, He just wasn't interested in people as though that were a real thing. Now, for the first time in my life, I believed him instead. Why? Because I selflessly wished to reach out a hand and help the old fellow to his feet, or because I selfishly needed a different kind of hero now? Someone who understood the terror that grips a reluctant soul…

I don't know.

I sat and listened to Ella's chatter for several minutes more, staring forward in silence and wondering where one draws the line between fae and animal. Too many cherubs drew it too far along one end of the spectrum, in my humble uneducated opinion.

My ears flattened. I clenched my hands in my lap, pinching the folds of my clothes. You know, I didn't care if it was an unpopular opinion among cherubs. Mr. Whimsifinado was more than an insect set out on display, just as I was more than a bat in a cage. Seelie. Unseelie. Fairy. Anti-Fairy. Refract. Pixie. It didn't matter. We were all people. That would always be the case, no matter how much animal blood rushed throughout our veins.

My hand moved to the familiar carpet bag I always kept at my side. Would Lohai understand all that someday, when I encouraged her to breed in order to preserve her species? Would she recognise that species preservation was different from forcing her to perform out of sheer curiosity for me?

Suddenly, I didn't care how much high education the cherubs had. All the certificates and research papers in the world mean nothing if you allow their supposed 'worth' to overtake your sense of compassion. Mercy always mattered more than being right. That's why I despised the plaques on display in the Anti-Fairy flyover tunnel, which presented my people as though we were wild animals. That's why I hated wearing pheromones, as though my behaviour could be altered with scented oils alone. That's why I'd always favoured Zodii beliefs over Daoist ones, because Zodii teachings revolved around balance, joy, and respect for others, rather than being cruel to those who aren't like you because of 'biology' and 'reflexes' and rubbish like that. I stared forward for a long time. Prattling Ella never noticed the acidic tears dribbling down my cheeks. Even with her Fairy senses.

My relief finally came in the form of Asher's hand clamping on my shoulder. I'd heard him and Juandissimo coming from afar, and couldn't get out of my seat quickly enough. "Drk. Ludell would like to speak with you in the alpha surgery room," he said, and I said, "Yes, he does. He does."

I left the observation deck behind, swearing that I'd never go back.

Asher guided me through multiple doors and corridors, pausing frequently to peer inside at the animals in their cages. I floated ahead of him, refusing to play his little game. Juandissimo kept at my heels, ringing in the energy field like cheery silver bells. Finally, we veered down a passage unfamiliar to me. The viewing windows on either side were replaced by pink wallpaper and pinker checked tiles. My ears twitched forward. If we hadn't yet left the public side of the Eros Nest behind, we were clearly about to.

We turned another corner. The lights shone much brighter here than anywhere else, and I broke into delighted laughter before I could help myself. Oh! I clasped my hands before my chest, kicking my legs up behind me. "Well, well! Now, if this old haunt isn't a sight for gorgeous eyes!"

Smoke, I hadn't come this way since before the war, but it never failed to impress. And I'm saying that as an Anti-Fairy with absolutely horrid eyesight. Asher and I had entered a wide corridor lined with over a dozen enormous portraits on either side. Floor-to-ceiling sort of enormous; I had to tilt my head back to see them very well at all.

We had a corridor just like this one back at the Blue Castle known as Anti-Holotype Hall. Thirty-four portraits lined our walls, one to represent each subspecies under the Anti-Fairy umbrella. All the paintings there depicted figures with sunken cheeks, shaded expressions, and hollow eyes. But in the Eros Nest, every face was lively. A few careful brush strokes left sunlight glimmering in hair. Smiles abounded all around, teeth showing without a hint of reservation. Hands clutched brilliant paper fans instead of half-empty wine glasses. Everyone here wore exquisite suits and dresses instead of cold black robes. I perused the hallway at my leisure, running my fingertips along the seashell bases of each portrait's frame in turn. Finella Sunbeam. Aphrodite Eros. Horace Sapphiro. Sienna Partridge. Faces I knew from history texts, but never so brilliantly as this.

Near the end of the row, when I'd begun to skim absentmindedly, I paused. There were thirty-five portraits hanging in this corridor. Not thirty-four. Even when I had passed through Anti-Holotype Hall with Emery on Patrons' Night all those years ago, there had only been thirty-four. Someone new had been added to the gallery. I looked up, blinking in half-bewilderment at the bespectacled pixie drake hanging above me. Oh. I shuffled another step back to take him in. My first thought when I saw him was, Is that him? But it couldn't be, surely? The drake in the portrait was much too young and handsome to be Fergus Whimsifinado, his half-lidded eyes more curious than scornful. And, let's be real here- the painted pixie came across as ridiculously fit, his large muscles toned and his stomach flat beneath his robes, and that is not what exhausted, frazzled, couldn't-lift-a-damsel-across-a-threshold Mr. Whimsifinado looked like at all.

But he did have that same spiral cowlick curling behind his ear…

No. If Mr. Whimsifinado was the pixie holotype, the Eros Triplets never would have allowed him to freely wander Planet Earth and Fairy World as long as they had. They'd be too busy breeding him dry. This must be his brother, Mister's father. He'd been painted sitting down, dressed in swirling navy blue and bronzed yellow against a dark brown background. Rather than a broken crown, this drake bore that same grey cap with a long star-tipped tail. A symbol of status worn by dominant pixie gynes? Perhaps. A child wearing similar colours sat in his lap, holding to his chest and staring silently, hauntingly down into my face. His crown had been concealed with a tiny grey hat, too. I squinted. He had two dark peaks curling from the front of his slick hair. Eh? Now I was further confused. Was that Mister himself, or was that his father as a nymph, sitting with his own sire? Accurate as my memory was, I couldn't tell for certain. All pixies looked alike to me.

"Dignified, isn't he?" Asher asked, floating up beside me with his hands linked behind his back (Juandissimo slipped behind him). "He looks so refined. You'd never know how bitterly stubborn he was when we had him drawn."

"Charming," I murmured, searching the portrait back and forth in search of some indication to prove I wasn't looking at Mr. Whimsifinado. Despite the familiar freckles and the cowlicks, it must have been Mister's father, although the resemblance to the drake I knew was stunning. "Exquisite, really. It's true what they say, I suppose, that pixies are all genetically identical."

And then my eyes wandered to the portrait of the damsel hanging on the left. The damsel with the smooth, thin face and extraordinarily pale skin, cheeks splattered with light freckles beneath her eyes. Her red-gold hair had been pulled back like a swishing fox's tail, and tied in place with an enormous white bow. She wore a yellow dress with a pink sash around the waist. Hips cocked to one side, hands poised. Her eyes gleamed electric and sparking blue. A golden crown with six shiny points floated incredibly high above her head. Unfurled behind her were a pair of unblemished orange and black wings, and that was all.

She was standing. She looked eerily happy in the painting, as though haunted by a memory. For all my centuries of research, I had never seen a full portrait of her in bold colour before. The very sight stole my thoughts away and left me audibly gasping. I dropped Lohai's carpet bag to the floor. Both hands flew to my mouth.

"I know her!"

Asher patted me between the wings. "Yep, that's her, all right. Ilisa Maddington herself. First of the will o' the wisps and widely considered the most beautiful fae to ever walk the cloudlands. She was even crowned Miss Universe once, you know. Everyone adored her. Shame about the Soil Temple collapse during the war. What a way to go, huh?"

Beautiful hadn't been the first word to pop into my head when I saw Ilisa. Nor stunning or gorgeous or fritzy or dazzled or anything like that. I'd thought Wrong. My eyes drank up her portrait, my mouth groping and stuttering for words. Asher smothered his amusement in his hand, obviously mistaking my horror for infatuation. I inhaled through my mouth, struggling to balance my nerves.

"Wh-why did you paint her without her wheelchair?"

Juandissimo gasped, his wings jolting. He fumbled his clipboard. It crashed to the floor. Asher gave me a curious sideways glance. "How did you know about her chair? I didn't think that detail made it into either the history books or her biography."

I blinked, shocked by my own tears but unable to hold them back. I replaced the strap of Lohai's bag over my shoulder. "Sh-she only had the chair until her ninth child, Leander, was born. You took it from her when you locked her away here. You didn't need her to do anything but breed with drakes at your command. So you just… took it. Then she couldn't fly, poof, or walk. You told the media that she wasn't caged. But in a way, she was. She- she couldn't leave."

Asher glanced down at his sleeve and tugged it down over his wrist. "Don't blame me. I wasn't even alive back then. Euan Eros was the one in charge."

"I have to go now." Ducking my head, I barrelled past the confused cherub and fled down the corridor faster than I'd realised I could fly.

In the washroom, I plunged my hands into the rinsing bucket and brought them up full of water. Without hesitation, I splashed it all across my face and rubbed my icy cheeks up and down. Droplets splattered the collar of my coat and ran in rivets through my fur. Frost sparkled in the air. Huffing, heaving, I grasped the bucket in my dripping hands and stared at my reflection in the smudged mirror. I could tell the thing didn't have a silver back, although to my irritation, I realised it was a two-way one. I'm not quite sure how I knew that, however, so call it an Anti-Fairy instinct.

"What the bloody smoke was that?" I muttered, leaning further forward. I didn't care that someone might be watching me from the mirror's other side. I hunched my shoulders, allowing my wings to sweep back and dangle. "All right. So, by the standards of Fairy society I suppose Ilisa is rather aesthetically appealing, and I'd be a liar if I insisted I hadn't noticed her lift, but what was that? Attraction? That didn't feel like attraction. How could I possibly be attracted to her anyway? I don't even know her. I didn't even know she used a wheelchair until approximately five seconds ago!"

Except I did know.

I don't… remember why… It's all so very…

My legs gave out beneath me as though they'd never had the strength to stand before. My claws scraped down the sides of the rinsing bucket, until I pushed too hard and tipped the whole thing over onto my head. Shaking, coughing at nothing, I crawled out from under it and curled up on the dirty washroom tiles. There I lay, holding my hands over my ears. The world was shaking. I hissed between my fangs. Oh, yes. The rocks and dirt fell harder and harder… Couldn't fly, couldn't fly after the loss of a wing that led to limping. Running was useless on noodle legs. Walls of soil closing in, trapping me and laughing long. Creamy hands with painted nails for claws, long russet hair to loose the fox inside. Crushing darkness. A cold whimper all alone.

It all went fuzzy after that.