Silvermist and the Desert Fox

By Dee Carey

Can a lone silver-haired outcast pixie free her homeland from the poison that enslaves all it touches?  Without thought for herself, she engages the evil to eradicate its holds on those she loves.  Will she find her own special love?  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Writers Branding LLC
• Release date: Jan 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781639455928

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SILVERMIST AND THE DESERT FOX

Copyright © 2023 by Dee Carey

ISBN: E-book: 978-1-63945-592-8

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

The views expressed in this book are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Acknowledgements

To my late husband, Bill.

To my long little doggy, Widget.

Wait for me. I miss you.

Introduction

PETE (Elder of the Pixies)

If this isn’t the worst mess the Pixies have ever been in, I musta ferget the worst. I told the young ones ya cain’t fed them dragons corn. Makes em drunk. I guess I’m lucky, this yellar fella don’t like it none.

Smart one, aren’t ya?

I swear the derned thing nodded. Ya understanding me, fella? Again, the scaly head lowered slightly. Well, if this don’t beat all.

How’s come ya don’t eat the corn?

Opening its mouth, it made a gesture that looked like it was choking.

Makes ya sick, eh? Another nod.

I told em and told em. Don’t take them dragons, they ain’t yers. Nothing good comes from doing wrong. Now we’re jest as bad as the wicked dame what takes em and covers them with gold. Ain’t right. Yer gonna be sorry.

The dragon was agreeable to allow me to ride him back to the Pixies territory. Thet was one big dragon and without a saddle it was hard to hold on. But he was gentle-like, so the journey was not difficult.

The dragon extended its wings for a slow descent to the ground outside the Pixies community hall. As we landed, Mr. Knowitall, steps up ta me and says, Pete, this is the only way we can get enough food to feed us all. Don’t you think I know it’s wrong to take what isn’t ours?

Oh, ya know all right, but this isn’t the way to do it. All we had to do was go ta Silvermist. She’d a lent us the dragons, mebee even give them to us.

Knowitall shook his head.

We drove her out, why would she help us?

Why? Why? I’ll tell ya why. Cause she’s a Pixie, a real Pixie, no matter how big she is. Not some derned fool, what’s fergot what being a Pixie means. Ya cain’t change tradition. Pixies help folks, not steal from em.

Perhaps, Pete, but it was tradition that caused us to turn her out.

I shook my head sadly, I knew it was not a good ideer to banish her like thet, but I bent to tradition. Should a stood up then. Not proud a that. But now we gots to deal with what we have. No food and no place ta grow any. The toads is massacred and their rotting carcasses are causing the whole village ta stink.

Well, ya derned young fellas want ta learn ta listen to yer elder? There’s a reason successful villages have elders, ya know. Cause they know what’s what.

The remainder of the counsel emerged from the hall and stood in front of me. They were all young fellars. They pushed us older folks out of the council positions, sayin they knew better how to run a Pixie community, than us old men. Times are changing, they said. Well, they changed all right, and now we gots us a fine mess. Drunken dragons we cain’t control. No food, no fields, and dead livestock.

Chapter 1

SILVERMIST

Early morning fog covered all I could see, as I went through the blanketed wood. My colouring matched the haze, and I was undetected by the prey. The sun was quickly burning off the grey cloud. Easily slipping through the quiet wood, I located the partridge. She was wary and seemed to sense a danger greater than I. It flew and a fox leapt at it. Flapping its wings furiously, it eluded the sharp teeth of the animal. Thinking itself safe, the fowl gently went toward its home. My arrow flew and found its mark.

Today, I would dine as a queen, not my usual peasant fare. I noticed at the edge of the wood, the fox. He was a fine specimen, a coat of red fur more brilliant than any autumn leaf. He was watching me, perhaps angered that I’d stolen his supper. Yet, he did not seem menacing. I cleaned the bird and pierced its body with a branch. After I started the fire, I set up two forked sticks over it. As I placed the bird over the flames, I noted the fox was crawling low on its belly closer and closer to the heat. It did not bare its teeth or growl.

I watched as he then stood, and I was able to see he was starving. Every one of his ribs protruded his hide. Are you hungry? I realize you probably would prefer your partridge raw, but try as I might, I cannot stomach it unless it’s cooked. He looked as if he understood and laid his head on the ground.

Come closer, I’ll gladly share with you. The fox rose and took a few steps toward me.

I sliced off a piece of the bird and extended it toward him on the tip of my knife. He sniffed and came closer. Almost daintily, he took it from the blade. Stepping back a few paces he laid on the ground and savored his dinner, held secure in his front paws.

He finished his portion and looked expectantly at me.

You want more? I asked.

Again he stood and walked toward me. There was confidence in his step. He trusted me. I tore off a leg of the bird and handed it to him. He was unusual for a fox. Most hunted at dusk and were not often seen, but not him. It was barely past dawn and he was foraging. Why hadn’t he been successful in his hunt? What prevented him from securing, at least a mouse?

Once he laid down to eat, I noticed he was blind in one eye. This would hamper his hunting. I felt as if I owed him something. I don’t know why I felt obligated to care for him, but it was as compelling as a duty.

Carefully, I dismantled the fire and covered the spot with fallen leaves. He stood and walked around the campsite. Marking the tree near the edge of the site, he aided in preventing someone from following us. It was clear to me he intended to remain with me. Perhaps he felt obligated to care for me, as I felt caring for him.

Suddenly he growled deep in his throat and spun around looking up into the sky. I, too, looked up and noted my miniature dragons were flying above, ridden by Pixies traveling in the western sky. This herd was destined for Elvina the Queen of the Alefe, who resided on the eastern most point of our land. She was not a particularity likeable Alefe, but her money was good and I had to make a living somehow. I’d been cast out of my home with the Pixies, once I’d grown taller than they. My unusual coloring, as well as my size, set me apart. The clear silver of my hair exactly matched the grey of the autumn trees. When I was born and left at the community of the Pixies I was considered to be a gift from the gods, but as I grew, and grew, far larger than them, they feared I would consume too much of their food. And, I had no explanation for my growth. So I was sent away, with nothing but a bow and several arrows.

I quickly became proficient at