Pixie Magic Ch. 12

"This feels nice. Thank you, Fern," I said, languidly.

"It's the least I can do for you saving my life," she said, "Besides, the sooner I make you feel better, the sooner I'll stop feeling the pain you're in."

"So how long is my pixie dust magic supposed to last?" I asked.

"That's up to you," she said, kneading a particularly tight muscle with her elbow, "What limit did you set? Was it based upon time or a certain number of orgasms?"

"Uh, limit?" I asked, "I don't recall you mentioning anything about setting limits."

"Oh, crap!" Fern said, "I would have thought that was obvious. Well, as soon as I'm done here, would you mind undoing your pixie dust connection?"

"No problem," I said.

Fern continued to massage my back and the muscles were loosening up one by one. She was almost done when I started to giggle. The giggling got stronger and stronger as she continued.

"Am I tickling you or something? What's so funny?" Fern asked.

"I was thinking about your sister, Vix," I said.

"I don't see anything funny in that," Fern said, "That bitch took away my pixie and then she tried to eat me."

"No, that's not what I'm laughing about," I explained.

"Then what?" she asked, "What could possibly be so funny about my sister?"

"Do you remember that pixie dust I used on her when I fucked her in the ass?" I asked.

"Yeah," Fern recalled, "That was pretty funny. She deserved that, too."

"Well, that dust was to make her enjoy being fucked in the ass more than anything else. It was the only way she could orgasm," I said, "But I didn't put a limit on that, either."

Fern stopped massaging my back and after a brief pause, began to giggle. The giggling got louder and louder and before long, the two of us were side-by-side on the bed holding our sides from laughing so hard.

"Can't you just see Vix begging my brothers to fuck her in the ass right now?" Fern asked between bursts of laughter.

"I'll bet they'll ask your sister Sparkle for some penis enhancements first," I shot back, bringing our fits of laughter to another crescendo.

When we finally calmed down, my back pain was completely gone.

"Well, that cured your back pain," Fern said, happily.

"Yeah," I agreed, "but I liked your massage better."

"Me too," Fern said, thoughtfully.

By the time I reversed the pixie dust connection with Fern and shared a hot shower, it was well after 11 AM. We were both starved, so we went back to the diner for an early lunch. Trekker, the beagle, was outside wagging his tail and greeting us enthusiastically as we approached the entrance.

"Thanks for the cold water yesterday, guys," he barked happily, "Do you think you can get me some more cold water now?"

"Of course," said Fern, "You should have a bowl out here with you at all times."

"They used to do that when I was a puppy," Trekker said, "But I got so excited when I saw people go into the diner that I kept knocking it over. Then Bob stopped bringing the bowl out after that."

"We'll say something when we get in there," I said, "You don't happen to know the name of the lady that works with Bob, do you?"

"You mean Doris?" Trekker said, "She's nice, but kind of flakey if you ask me. Always going on and on about something called Star Trek, whatever that is. Now everybody calls me 'Trekker'. I guess that's better than 'Snoopy' like over half the other beagles I know."

When we got inside, the same waitress greeted us.

"Hey, it's the Star Trek fans back again, I see," she said, smiling. Then giving me the Vulcan greeting sign, "Live long and prosper!"

I've never been able to get my fourth and fifth fingers to stay together for the Vulcan sign, but I held up a botched sign anyway.

"Live long and prosper, Doris," I said, "but before you seat us, can we have a large bowl of ice water for Trekker?"

Doris' smile quickly disappeared and was replaced by a look of puzzlement.

"Uh, sure thing, right away," she said, "but how did you know my name?"

"Trekker told us," Fern said, quickly.

Doris looked at Fern suspiciously.

I chuckled nervously. "You told us, yesterday," I said.

Doris still looked confused as she turned to get the bowl of water.

"Fern, be careful!" I whispered.

"Don't worry," Fern whispered back, laughing, "She'll never believe us, and I loved the look on her face."

Doris came back with the water with plenty of ice cubes floating on the top.

"Thanks, Doris," I said, "I'll bring this right out to him."

"And I'll tell him not to knock over the bowl like he did when he was a puppy," Fern said, smiling, "So that you and Bob can leave a bowl of water for him every day. Be sure to place the bowl in a shady spot where he can reach it."

"How did you know about..." Doris began.

"She's my veterinarian assistant," I said, heading for the door with the bowl of ice water, "She knows a lot about puppy behavior, especially beagles."

While we were eating, I received another phone call from my brother, Ben.

"Sky where were you yesterday?" he asked, "I received a phone call from a Ms. Chambers in Malcom Lawson's office who said she couldn't reach you. I told you to stay in cell phone range!"

I explained that my phone was nearly out of charge after we talked yesterday, and I had it recharging in the motel room while we did some shopping.

"I spoke with Ms. Chambers this morning," I explained further, "We're going back to Greenwood under Vermont State Police protection thanks to an injunction arranged through Lawson's office."

"Be careful Sky. This whole thing sounds pretty dangerous...and a little weird," Ben warned before hanging up.

"What now?" Fern asked.

"Well, I guess we head back to Greenwood," I said.

We went to check out of the motel, but since it was now after 1 PM, we were charged for the extra night.

"In that case, can you keep the room for us, in the event we need it again for tonight?" I asked.

"Sure," the clerk said, "It's not like were booked up and you've paid for it anyway."

With that, we headed back to Greenwood.

"Fern, what do you think about pressing civil charges against Randy Knox?" I asked as we were driving back.

"I don't know," she said, "I know I should, but I don't want to draw a lot of attention to myself. The last thing I need is for someone to find out I'm really a 48-year-old pixie. It's not that anyone would believe that, but there are a lot of gaps in my history as a human that would raise a lot of questions."

"I see your point," I said, "Maybe under the protection of attorney-client privilege Attorney Lawson or Ms. Chambers could advise you about that."

"Let me think about it," Fern said.

"There's something else I should ask you as well," I said, "How did you feel when I fucked Vix in the ass?"

Fern laughed. "Why would you ask me that?"

"To be honest, I'm feeling guilty about it," I said, "It made her so mad that she took away all your pixie power and almost had you for a snack. I feel responsible for that."

"Don't feel guilty," Fern said, "Vix has always had a thing against me, ever since we were little. She never liked the fact that she had to share me with our parents after I was born."

"That's ridiculous," I said, "You have fourteen other brothers and sisters. How could she single you out of all of them?"

"Because next to her, I'm the oldest," Fern said, "She resented me from a young age and that has never changed. Then when you came along, literally, she couldn't stand to see me so happy. That's why she shrank you that first day she met you."

"I always wondered about that," I said.

"When you turned out to be the Pixie King, I think that was the last straw for her," Fern said, "Holly and I both knew she would find a way of getting rid of me once she learned about you. That's why I cried when I admitted that I loved you, I knew she would never permit it."

"So, what you're telling me is that she was going to try to do something bad to you no matter what," I summarized.

"Yes, and if anything, you were perfect," she said, "Not only did you humiliate her in front of me and my siblings, but you pushed her into showing them her rage against me out into the open. Now, none of them will ever trust her. The only way they'll help her is if she threatens or forces them."

"Do you think I could negotiate with her? Maybe she'd be open to some sort of compromise and sharing arrangement with you, that is if you agree," I suggested.

"That's a terrible idea!" Fern said, "First of all, she'd never agree to it. Second, why would I want to share you with her? Finally, why would you ever want to have anything to do with her after what she's done to both of us?"

"I guess you're right. I was just hoping we could find some friendly way of resolving this conflict and restoring your pixie powers," I said reluctantly, "There must be some way of getting on her good side."

"I've been trying to do that for the past 40 years," Fern replied, "I don't think she has a good side."

"I'm sure we'll think of something. There must be some way of using my status as a king to get your powers back," I said.

"There is," Fern replied sadly, "But it means we can never be together."

"Well, that's not an option," I stated flatly, "I didn't give you that ring for nothing. It was a promise and I intend to keep it, even if it means giving up my pixie powers."

"You can't do that," Fern explained, "Once you're King, you're King for life."

"That can't be true. If the previous King gave me his powers, I should be able to transfer the power to someone else," I pointed out.

"That King transferred his powers upon his death," Fern replied, "Like I said, once you're King, you're King for life."

"Oh," was all I could say.

The rest of the trip to Greenwood was made in silence.

A state police cruiser was parked on the side of the road just outside Greenwood town limits. I pulled in behind the car and the trooper inside came out and walked over to my car.

"Dr. Monroe?" the trooper asked.

After I nodded, he said, "I'm Officer Varney. I'm here to escort you to your office and stand by until 6 PM."

"Thank you, officer," I replied, "I appreciate your time."

"Before we head in, I think you should know we've had multiple complaints about Mr. Knox a couple of days ago," the officer said.

"Which Mr. Knox and what kind of complaints?" I asked.

"Sexual assault complaints against the younger Mr. Knox and the town's police officer, Mason Pierce," Officer Varney said.

"Have they been arrested?" I asked, hopefully.

"No," Officer Varney said, "We're still investigating. Since Officer Pierce is the town's only enforcement official, it's going to take a little longer to sort this all out. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thank you, officer," I said, as he turned and went back to his vehicle.

From the outside of the clinic, everything about the building seemed to be in good order. But inside was a different matter altogether. There was broken glass and trash strewn everywhere. All the security cameras had been damaged and the computers had been torn out from their desks and smashed on the floor.

My surgical instruments were scattered about, and the autoclave and x-ray equipment were severely damaged.

The upstairs apartment was just as bad, if not worse. The clothes I left behind were scattered all over the apartment. The dishes were broken, and the cutlery and flatware were either missing or strewn about. The refrigerator door was left open, and the contents were nearly emptied.

On the kitchen table was the container that had Fern's leftover vegetable stew, the stew with the pixie mushrooms in it. The container was open and completely empty.

"We had no idea that your place had been vandalized," Officer Varney said as he looked at the mess. He had accompanied Fern and me inside the clinic, "I hope your business and personal belonging were insured."

"They were," I said, "But it's going to be a while before I can repair and replace everything."

"From the outside, there was no sign of a break-in," Officer Varney said, "Did you leave the clinic unlocked when you left on Saturday?"

"I would never do that," I said.

"I can confirm that," Fern said, "and I've worked with him since he moved here two and a half years ago."

"I see," said the trooper, "do you hide a spare key outside anywhere, Doctor?"

"No, never," I said, "Besides my assistant here, the only other person to have a key to the clinic is the landlord, Randolph Knox the Third."

"Well, that pretty much narrows down the list of suspects," Officer Varney said, "Excuse me while I file a report and call this in to the sergeant."

"Looks like Randy and Mason were looking for something and got into your leftover vegetable stew with all the pixie mushrooms," I said to Fern.

"That could explain the complaints about sexual assault," Fern replied.

"I wonder who they assaulted," I pondered out loud.

I took dozens of pictures of the damage and destruction and sent them off to the insurance company through the hot spot provided by the state police cruiser, since my router was one of the pieces of equipment damaged. After that, Fern and I started picking up the apartment, saving the clinic and all the broken equipment for another day.

After an hour and a half, we were interrupted by Officer Varney at the top of the stairs. Behind him was the mayor, Randolph Knox the Second.

"I'm sorry to inform you Doctor Monroe, but I've been pulled off protective duty," Officer Varney said.

"But it's not even 5 PM," I said, "I thought you said you'd be here until 6."

"I was ordered to stand down by directives from the Governor's office," the trooper explained.

"You may leave now, officer," Mayor Knox snapped, "I'll take over from here."

"My place has been vandalized," I said, "I'm entitled to some protection."

"I'm the chief elected official in this town," Knox snapped, "You can lodge your complaint with me. Besides, I want to talk with you two alone."

We watched the trooper go down the stairs and heard the clinic door close.

"Don't think I don't know what you two are up to," Knox said after the trooper left.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I replied.

"Pixies," he said, "The woods around here are full of them, and she's one of them!"

He pointed his finger at Fern.

"Are you mad?" I said, "She's no more a pixie than I am."

"Be careful what you say and who you associate with, Doctor," Knox said, "Or my son and I will hunt you down, too."

"Your son?" I said, "Your son killed an animal under my protection and raped my assistant. You've falsely accused me of a crime and now you're threatening me? What kind of monster are you?"

"I've warned you, Doctor," he said, "you can either work with me to get rid of those vermin in the woods or my son and I will get rid of you along with those little pests."

"You're either drunk or on drugs," I said, "You don't really believe in pixies, do you?"

"I assure you they're real, Doctor," he said, "I have my own sources and I've seen them with my own eyes. I will clear cut the whole forest, all the way back to the Green Mountain National Forest to get rid of them if I have to."

"You would do that?" I asked, astounded by the breadth of his determination, "There are lot of hikers that enjoy the trails there."

"It's my land and I'll do with it as I please," he said, "Of course, with your cooperation, that might not be necessary."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked

"Enjoy your little stay here while you can," Knox continued, "My father managed to get rid of your state trooper escort. It shouldn't take him too long to get rid of the injunction preventing me from evicting you."

The senior-most Randolph Knox was a Vermont state senator. He must have used his influence with the governor's office to remove the state police protection. I had little doubt that he would find a way of overturning Judge Turner's eviction injunction as well.

"Come on, Fern," I said, "we better leave now."

"I'd prefer you to stay, at least for tonight," Knox said with a sinister smile.

"So, you could murder us overnight? No thanks," I said.

"Don't be ridiculous," Knox said, "that would be way too obvious. Besides, my son and I want to talk with you tomorrow morning. Randy also wants you to take the stitches out of his two deerhounds. I'll guarantee your safety at least until tomorrow night. After that, you can leave or not, depending upon our negotiations."

"Why should I trust you? What guarantee can you give me?" I asked.

The mayor looked at his watch.

"Look out the window at the parking lot," he said.

There was a tow truck backed up to my car. The car was being loaded onto the flatbed of the truck.

"Your car will be returned to you in the morning, you have my word on that . . . Oh, and have a pleasant evening," he said with that same sinister smile.

With that, he turned and left.

Fern and I sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Now what do we do?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," I said. "There are too many things that don't add up. How does he know about pixies? How does he know you're a pixie? He said he had his own sources; I wonder what he meant by that?

"Do you think we'll be safe here overnight?" Fern asked.

"I don't know," I admitted, "It would be too obvious that something should happen to us a few hours after his father, the state senator, finagled a way around a judge's protective injunction. But that doesn't mean we should trust him."

"If I had my pixie powers and my sister wasn't trying to kill me, we could at least stay in the forest overnight," Fern lamented, "But that's not an option, either."

"I wonder what Knox and his son want to talk about tomorrow," I speculated, "What could I possibly offer them that would prevent him from clear cutting thousands of acres of forest land?"

"Maybe he knows you're the Pixie King," Fern wondered.

"I doubt it, but I don't think we should wait around to find out, do you? I asked.

I made a couple of calls, one to Ashley Chambers, where I left a message, and another one to my brother, where I updated him on the sudden turn of events.

"I'll call Malcom Lawson's personal number," was the last thing Ben said before we hung up.

"While we're waiting for Mr. Lawson's office to call back, we should probably find something to eat," I suggested.

"I'm not very hungry after all that," Fern said, "Besides, all of your food here has been either eaten, trashed, or spoiled."

"True," I said, "Which is why this is the perfect time to walk to the Greenwood Diner and their extremely limited menu."

That remark was intended to lighten the mood, but it landed flat, only reminding both of us how desperate things had become.

It was a 30-minute walk from the clinic to the restaurant/gas station/ convenience store. My car was there, chained and locked on top of the flatbed tow truck.

Inside, a forlorn and despondent Gail was sitting at one of the tables, staring off into space. It looked like she had been crying.

"Gail, are you alright?" I asked.

She looked up at me and tears started running down her face.

"Oh, Skyler, Fern, it was awful!" she sobbed.

"What happened?" Fern and I asked, almost at the same time.

"H-He . . . th-they raped me," she blubbered into the damp napkin she was holding in her hand.

"Who did that to you?" I asked, "was it Randy?"

She nodded.

"A-And M-Mason," she sobbed.

"Did you call the state police?" Fern asked.

Gail nodded.

"Th-that's when h-he came over," Gail said.

"Who?" I asked, "The mayor?"

"Y-yes," she blubbered, "He said he'd shut this place down and have me fired if I said anything to the state troopers."

"Gail, when did all this happen?" I asked.

"T-Two days ago," she sobbed.

"Two days ago!" I blurted. Gail must have been crying like this for two days. I couldn't imagine how traumatizing that experience must have been for her to be still crying after two days. I was sure that having to still come to work at the very spot where she was raped had a lot to do with it.