Elliot and the Pixie Plot by Jennifer A. Nielsen

he thought he would. He woke up to a cheery sunrise, or whatever it was in the Underworld that provided light. Morning magic, perhaps. He would have liked another cup of Fudd’s Mushroom Surprise, although if Mr. Willimaker was right and Fudd couldn’t be trusted, he probably shouldn’t take anything else Fudd offered him.
    Mr. Willimaker greeted Elliot when he sat up. “Awake, Your Highness? My apologies, I expected you to sleep awhile longer.”
    “Hard to sleep when you’re hunting a Demon,” Elliot said.
    “Ah, yes.” Mr. Willimaker said. “My cousin once said the same thing about hunting for delicious burbleberries. Although to be fair, burbleberries won’t rip your arms off if you get close to them.”
    Elliot turned to Mr. Willimaker, who was finishing getting dressed. He looked as fresh and clean as ever. Elliot, on the other hand, thought he could smell his own body odor, and something sticky was on his cheek.
    Mr. Willimaker hurried over to unwrap his bundle. “I saw a stream a little ways back. Maybe I can heat some water for a warm mint broth.” As Mr. Willimaker pulled two cups from his bag, his ears suddenly perked up at the side of his head, the way a dog’s might when it hears something.
    “I don’t mean to alarm you,” Mr. Willimaker whispered, “but is there any chance that noise came from you?”
    Elliot hadn’t heard anything. “What noise?”
    “That rustling noise. I was hoping that perhaps it was you over in those bushes.”
    “It’s not me,” Elliot said.
    “Are you sure?” Mr. Willimaker’s ears were at full attention now, then they relaxed and he added, “It was probably nothing. A rodent or a snake perhaps.”
    Elliot pulled his feet in close to him. He didn’t like snakes. He didn’t trust anything that could move on the ground without legs.
    Mr. Willimaker tapped the cups. “I’ll get some water. Won’t be long.” Then he walked away toward the stream.
    Only a minute later, Elliot heard a “Hamph!” and a loud “No!” Then a small puff of smoke rose in the air and everything went silent. Elliot hoped it wasn’t a snake that had gotten to Mr. Willimaker, because that would have to be some freaky large snake. He ran in the direction Mr. Willimaker had gone, calling his name, but there was no answer. Then he ran to the stream, but it didn’t look as if Mr. Willimaker had gotten this far. At least, no footprints were in the mud other than Elliot’s.
    Elliot turned back the way he had come. Under a bush he saw the two cups Mr. Willimaker must have dropped.
    “Mr. Willimaker?” Elliot called again. What had happened to him?
    He picked up the cups and then saw a small note hanging from a branch of the bush. He plucked it off and read:
To the king of the Brownies—
By helping the Pixies, you are in violation of a treaty agreeing to stay out of any fighting over Glimmering Woods. Therefore, we have taken the Brownie, Mr. Willimaker, and will hold him as our captive until you also do something for the Fairies. We want a sock off the foot of the Demon Kovol. It shouldn’t be a problem for you. We hear you’re going to see him anyway.
Refuse to help us and you will never see Mr. Willimaker again. Should you fail with the Demon Kovol, no one will ever see you again.
Cheers!
The Fairies
    Elliot crumpled the note into his pocket and yelled again, “Mr. Willimaker!” Then he yelled, “Fairies! I want to talk to you!”
    But there was no answer.
    He was alone in the Underworld, with no map either back to Burrowsville or ahead to Demon Territory. And he thought he heard a sound nearby. Something was coming toward him.



 
    Elliot hurried back to camp and gathered up both his and Mr. Willimaker’s bundles. With his arms full, he began racing in the direction they’d been walking yesterday. He didn’t know if he was still walking toward Demon Territory or not. But he did know he was moving away from whatever was following him.
    Maybe it was Goblins, who knew he was