Page 37 of The Brightest Fell

“Right. Last question. What does he do when you cause him pain?”

“I slapped him. He didn’t wake up.”

“Cause him more pain.”

“I’m not going to knee him in the nuts just to see what happens.”

“So stick him with a pin or something. I need the sort of shock that a normal person couldn’t sleep through.”

I sighed. “Hang on. Quentin, hold this.” I handed the phone to my squire and pulled the knife from my belt. Leaning carefully forward, I dug the tip of it against the skin of Simon’s hand until it broke the surface, sending a trickle of smoke-scented blood running down the channel between his knuckles.

Simon didn’t stir.

I leaned back, reaching for the phone. Quentin returned it to me. Bringing it to my ear, I said, “He didn’t wake up.”

“Okay. It’s a bad interaction. Based on his pupils, I’d say he’s basically stoned. It may wear off on its own. It may also mean he’s out for a while.”

“How long?”

There was a pause before Walther said, “I don’t know. If he doesn’t wake up soon, bring me a blood sample and I’ll see what I can find. Try not to let him get exposed to anything else.”

“Right. I’ll talk to you soon.” I hung up the phone and handed it back to Quentin.

“What did he say?”

“That we’re screwed. Hang on, I’m going to do something stupid.” I stood, cupping my hands around my mouth, and called up to the tree, “Hey, Poppy, can you come down here for a second?”

A bright orange mote of light zipped from one of the high branches and descended to hover in front of my face, where it resolved into the pixie woman who had been so happy to show me around. She waved, expression shy.

“Hi,” I said. “You can understand me, right?”

Poppy nodded, wings chiming.

“Great. So here’s the deal. Simon was elf-shot. I had him woken up to help me find my sister, but the countercharm was still in his system, and I think the stuff you used to knock us out is interacting poorly with it. I can’t carry him the way he is right now. Is there any chance you can shrink him again, so I can stick him in my pocket until we figure out a way to wake him up?”

Poppy clapped her hands over her mouth, looking alarmed. I shook my head.

“I’m not mad, I just need to get moving. So can you?”

She hesitated before nodding and zipping away, back into the trees. I waited impatiently until she reappeared, and started flying circles around me and Quentin, trying to move us away from Simon’s body.

I took a big step back, reaching forward to haul Quentin after me. Poppy gave one approving ring before she darted forward, pulling something from her belt, and threw it into Simon’s face. There was a burst of bright orange glitter.

When it cleared, Simon had dwindled to the size of a pixie. That was expected.

Poppy, standing there, still barefoot and glowing bright orange, but suddenly built to human scale, was less so. I blinked. She blinked. Then, looking absolutely delighted, she did a little jig step and clapped her hands together.

“It worked, it worked, oh, I’m a miracle and no mistake! Look what I did! Look what I’ve done!”

“I can see what you’ve done, I just don’t understand it,” I said. “Why are you big?”

“Because your friend’s small,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Not a good enough answer,” said Quentin.

“We don’t have big outside magic like you wingless do,” said Poppy. “If we did, you wouldn’t go in for swatting us half so often, because we’d swat you right back. Pow!” She paused to giggle before adding, “We make an inside magic. All of us together, we can small the wingless down by all giving a little. If you want someone to be small without you calling on the whole flock, somebody has to give a lot. That’s me! I’m giving a lot!”

I blinked. “So you can make someone else small if you use, what, all your magic?”