Pixie Magic Ch. 14

Chapter 14: Twelve Years Later, the Epilog.

"Sky, what's this?" Fern asked, holding up a sheaf of papers, "I found this in the filing cabinet."

"Let me see," I said, putting the baby down. I had just succeeded in calming down little two-year-old Newt after his brother Perry had frightened him by turning into a peregrine falcon, the bird of prey for which he was named. Perry had perched himself on the rail of Newt's crib and spread his wings proudly, which terrified poor Newt.

Perry was just 7 years old, and he was a good kid, but he always got rambunctious after supper and needed an outlet to blow off his excess energy. He usually did that by turning himself into a falcon and flying around the house, knocking over bookshelves, lamps, pictures, and anything else that wasn't nailed down.

"You need a time out, mister," I said to the falcon as I placed his leather falcon hood over his head and tethered him to his perch before picking two-year-old Newt up and rocking him in my arms to calm him down.

Fern had been cleaning out an old filing cabinet while I watched the kids. I walked over to look at the sheets of papers she was holding up. The title at the top of the first page read:

Pixie Magic

Chapter 1: The Wounded Doe.

"I almost forgot about that," I said smiling, "I began writing that on the first fay I learned you were a pixie thinking it might make a good story someday. I was going to make some changes to disguise our identities and location."

"There's some pretty explicit material in here," Fern said, reading through the fourth page, "You'd better not let the kids see this at least until their 18 or older. Especially Fawn, she's already beginning to show a lot of interest in her body as it is."

At age ten, Fawn was our oldest and she looked a lot like her mother. But unlike Fern, she was shy and self-conscious, traits I thought were unusual for pixies until Fern explained that a lot of pixie girls start out that way.

"I had that story tucked away in a locked filing cabinet. Isn't that where you found it?" I asked.

"Yes," Fern replied, "But you left the key to the filing cabinet in the desk where any one of the kids could have taken it. You know you can't leave those things around for the kids to find."

"You're right as always," I said after a pause. I was tempted to start an argument for the sole purpose of enjoying the steamy make-up session afterwards. But because the kids were all up, there would be no time for that now, hence the hesitation.

"I'll keep the key to the filing cabinet on my key chain with the rest of the keys," I said, finishing the thought.

"We'll talk about this after you put the kids to bed," Fern replied, holding up the document, "and I get a chance to read more."

Fern gave me one of her sexy "I know exactly what you're thinking" looks. After 12 years as a pixie, I was almost as good as her in reading feelings. She must have sensed my temptation for an argument just to get the make-up session.

This ability to read each other's feelings came in handy and often resulted in putting the kids to bed 30 minutes ahead of their usual bedtimes. Fortunately, pixie girls don't develop that skill until their 19 or 20. Pixie boys develop that skill at a later age, usually around age 25 or 30 although some pixie boys don't ever seem to attain it.

Speaking of which, I checked in on Newt. He was curled up in his crib and fast asleep. I tucked him in with his favorite blanket before looking in on Perry.

I removed the hood over his eyes, and he blinked a couple of times to adjust to the light. "Do you want to sleep on your perch tonight or in your regular bed?" I asked him, removing the tether to his perch. Perry considered sleeping on his perch a treat. He enjoyed it in much the same way I used to enjoy sleeping in a tent in the backyard when I was his age. Giving him the option was my way of indicating that I wasn't upset with him, and no real harm was done.

He flew off the perch and glided down to the floor where he morphed into his 4-foot human form wearing his green frock. His brown hair and pointed facial features reminded me so much of his peregrine appearance.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he said, "I didn't mean to scare Newt."

"I know that," I said, giving him a bear hug, "It's just fun to play animal changes, isn't it?"

He looked up at me and smiled, then he gave me a big yawn.

"I had so much fun with Uncle Hawke today," he said sleepily, "You should see what he can do with his talons."

"Oh, I've seen your Uncle Hawke in action with those talons," I said, "He once saved me and your mother with those talons of his."

"He saved your lives for real?" Perry asked excitedly.

"Ask him yourself during your next flying lesson," I said, smiling, "Now brush your teeth and get ready for bed and I'll tuck you in."

Hawke was a good uncle and besides showing Perry useful flying tips, he would keep a close eye out for eagles, the only predator I was concerned about when Perry was flying.

Perry adored his Uncle Hawke and I suspect the feeling was mutual. He had been flying with Hawke earlier in the day. Hawke had taken Perry under his wing (a pun expression Fern and I would share in private) and showed him how to find the thermal updrafts and air currents to patrol the skies using a minimal amount of energy, enabling him to stay aloft for longer periods of time.

I watched Perry turn and leave, but as he disappeared down the hall, a pretty little face peeked out from behind the doorway.

"Tuck me in too Daddy?" little Robin, aged six asked. She was in her pixie form but dressed in her pajamas and holding her favorite fairy princess doll.

"Yes, I'll tuck you in, too," I said smiling at the ginger-haired cherub with wings of brown, yellow, and red in a feathered pattern. "Where's your shadow? Isn't she with you?" I asked.

Robin giggled. "You're silly, Daddy. Wren's not my shadow, she's my puppy dog."

A small puppy peeked out from behind the six-year-old. It was happily smiling at me with its tongue hanging out and the back half of its body rocking back and forth from its tail wagging vigorously in the air.

Moving quickly, I scooped the puppy into my arms and sprinkled pixie dust over its head. The puppy morphed into a smiling four-year-old girl with brown hair and an angelic face.

"Sweetie, I know your sister Wren likes to follow you around like a puppy dog but remember what I told you about turning your sister into an real puppy dog," I said to the six-year-old.

"We were just playing, Daddy and Wren said it was okay with her," Robin said, looking up at me with innocent eyes.

"It was fun!" the happy four-year-old in my arms said, looking at me.

"I know its fun playing puppy," I said as calmly as I could to the two girls, "But next time just pretend to be a puppy and don't actually change your sister into a puppy. Do you understand?"

I looked directly at little Robin when I asked that question.

"Yes, Daddy," Robin said sincerely.

"You didn't pee on the living room rug again, did you?" I asked, looking at Wren in my arms.

"No Daddy," Wren said, smiling.

"Good girl," I said as I carried her towards the bathroom with Robin following me, "It's bedtime and time for you two to brush your teeth."

"I peed on the floor near the potty instead," Wren said.

She added that just as I entered the bathroom and stepped in the small puddle in front of the toilet. I looked down at the smiling four-year-old.

"Why didn't you go in the potty?" I asked.

"I was a puppy and couldn't reach it," Wren said.

"I told her puppies don't use the potty," Robin added with that same innocent face.

"I'll clean it up while you two brush your teeth," I told them. It was hard to get mad at those two cuties. In a way, they reminded me of their uncles Kip and Cal who were inseparable and did everything together.

A dry towel and a little pixie dust was enough to dry my feet and clean the floor. I watched the two girls brush their teeth before tucking each of them into their beds. Robin and Wren slept in the same room with their older sister Fawn, whose bed was empty.

I walked across the hall and tucked Perry into his bed and gave him a goodnight kiss. Perry slept in the same room as his older brother Buck, whose bed was also empty.

Buck was doing his math homework at the kitchen table when I checked in on him.

"Almost done?" I asked.

"Almost. Just a couple more division problems," he replied, looking up at me. He had a faraway look in his eyes and put down his pencil.

"Dad, how come I can't be a falcon like Perry? I want to fly like he does, too," he asked.

Here it comes. Not this discussion again.

"You're a pixie and can fly whenever you want to," I replied, patiently.

"You know what I mean," he said with a hint of a whine in his voice, "Pixie flying isn't the same thing. I want to fly like a falcon."

"It's as I told you before, pixies can't choose their special transformation talent, it's something you have to be born with," I said gently, "Most pixies don't even have a transformation talent. Your uncles Kip, Cal, Fin, and Pan all need to use pixie dust to transform. And your aunts -"

"But why do I have to be a stupid deer?" Buck asked, "I have to watch out for coyotes, mountain lions and hunters."

"You have the most important job of them all," I explained, "You're going to be a pixie king someday, with special powers that none of your brothers or sisters will ever have. You'll appreciate that when you get older, and the pixie girls go crazy over you."

"Girls? Oh, gross! Who needs that?" he said, making a face.

"Just finish your homework, or you'll be hearing about it from your Aunt Elfie tomorrow," I said, chuckling.

Buck was just 9 years old, but I was already preparing myself for the awkward talk I needed to have with him when he reached puberty and the even more dreaded talk after he turned 18 and would be allowed to attend the Festival of the Full Moon.

"Done!" Buck said proudly, holding up his paper.

"Let me see," I said, as I checked over his work, "Your Aunt Elfie expects you to show all your work, not just your answers."

Fern's sister, Elfie agreed to home school the kids until they reached high school age. We would enroll them into a private academy after that, but only after we can be sure that they would keep their pixie lives a secret.

Aside from the smudges and sloppy handwriting, Buck's homework looked good. Buck was a bright boy, and I wasn't too worried about his handwriting. Once he gets his iPhone and goes off to school, I doubt he would even need handwriting after that.

"Okay, this looks good. Off you go then. Brush your teeth, kiss your mother goodnight and don't wake up your brother when you get into bed," I instructed, as I went off to look for his sister Fawn.

After a quick look around the house, I poked my head into the den and found Fern reading my "Pixie Magic" story. Her legs were curled underneath her, and she had the knuckle of her right forefinger in her mouth to keep from vocalizing her reaction to the various scenes I wrote. She jumped when I cleared my throat.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," I said, "I'm going next door to the clinic to look for Fawn."

Fern looked up and smiled.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I should be helping you put the children to bed, but I got so wrapped up in this story," she said, "I'd forgotten how fast those events moved back then and how we almost didn't make it. You didn't hold back on some of our more passionate moments either, did you?"

"We can talk about that later. Right now, I've got to get Fawn back over here," I said, smiling as I left.

We lived next door to the clinic. Thanks to Aunt Winnie's gift, we were able to build a large four-bedroom home with 3 bathrooms, a den, and a study/library in the vacant lot next to the clinic. We still had the apartment above the clinic to use as a business office, lunchroom, and private bedroom away from the kids during those rare spare moments. Although lately, Elfie also used it as a classroom for the kids.

When I entered the clinic, the only light in the waiting area came through the small window on the door that led to the infirmary area. Inside I found a large fawn lying on the straw of the open large animal pen gently nuzzling and licking the fur of a litter of baby rabbits. The dam (mother rabbit) was looking on affectionately.

The fawn looked up as I entered.

"Look Daddy! Martha had her babies!" the fawn said cheerfully.

"So I see," I replied, chuckling, "I thought I'd find you in here."

"When I get older, I want to be a veterinarian just like you and Mommy," the fawn said affectionately. She went back to licking the newborn rabbits' fur.

"If you keep up with you studies and work as hard as your Aunt Elfie tells me you're working, I'm sure you'll be as good as your mother and me, or maybe better," I replied.

At my insistence, Fern applied to veterinarian school shortly after we were married. She graduated at the top of her class and did it without using pixie magic. She had both Fawn and Buck while in school and during her internship.

I became a preceptor while she was in school so that she could do her internship at the clinic, and we could raise the kids at the same time. We couldn't have done it without the help of her sister Holly, who filled in as TA and office manager. Holly was later joined by Aria as a second TA when Fern attained her veterinarian license.

"It's bedtime. Time to change back and put Martha and her babies back into the pen," I said to Fawn, "You don't want Aunt Elfie catching you yawning in class tomorrow.

"Okay Daddy," Fawn said as she morphed back into a ten-year-old brown-eyed, brown-haired girl in a green frock. She helped Martha get her babies back into the rabbit pen and closed the door. She then came over and gave me a hug. I hugged her back and followed her back to the house.

After Fern and I tucked Fawn into bed and gave her goodnight kisses, we retired to the den with a couple of glasses of pixie wine.

I sat on one end of the couch while Fern sat next to me, turning her body so her back leaned against me while she put her feet up on the arm rest on the other end of the couch. She had the Pixie Magic document in her hand and was reading the final chapters.

When she finished, she turned back to the first page.

"Who are these two guys, Chris6160 and LoneWolf68Alpha, that edited this story?" she asked, "Should you be telling them about us?"

"It's okay. They're magical folks themselves," I replied, "We can trust them to keep our secret. Their editing suggestions helped me a lot and I couldn't have finished the story without them."

"Are they pixies?" Fern asked.

"I'm not sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were," I replied.

"I finished reading chapter 13, but where's the rest of the story?" Fern asked.

"What do you mean? It looks finished to me," I replied.

"Nonsense. You didn't write about the 35,000 acres of land we donated to the Green Mountain National Forest," Fern insisted.

"Well, technically, you donated that land. Your Aunt Winnie made out that deed to you," I replied.

"True, but I needed your connections with that lawyer in Montpelier...what was his name again?" Fern asked.

"Lawson, Malcom Lawson," I replied.

"Oh, that's right. He helped us stipulate that those acres should be...how did he put it?" Fern asked.

"Pristine old growth forest," I said.

"That's it. Pristine old growth forest in perpetuity," Fern recalled, "That way, no one can cut down the Great Oak Tree or the hemlocks of Hemlock Hall. That's an important part of the story."

"I guess you're right. I should add that at the end," I agreed.

"And what about Aunt Winnie?" Fern asked.

"What about her?"

"You should add that she built all those fairy houses on her property and opened it up to the public," Fern said, "She worked hard all summer long to get that ready by late September for school field trips to talk to kids about fairy houses and the 'little winged people' that lived there."

"That's true," I recalled, "There's been a lot less litter on the hiking trails since she started telling those stories. People seem to better appreciate nature and the beauty of the Vermont woods ever since."

"Do you think people really believe that pixies will prank them if they don't respect the woods and wildlife?" Fern asked.

"I don't know about that, but your siblings all tell me that haven't had as many opportunities to prank people ever since your aunt started that fairy museum," I noted.

"Yes, and the animals are a lot happier," Fern replied.

"What else?" I asked.

"Well, you could mention what happened to Randolph Knox, the ex-mayor who went to jail," Fern said.

"You mean write that he went to jail for 6 years?" I asked.

"Definitely that, but you should also mention that he was charged with abuse of office, hunting out of season, involuntary manslaughter, not to mention..." Fern paused, giving me a sad look.

"What? Not to mention what?" I asked.

Fern stared at the floor as she recalled a painful memory. In a quiet voice she answered, "Illegal trapping. He was the one that—"

"Oh crap! I didn't even think about your mother. You're right, I'm sorry," I said, giving her a hug.

"It's okay," Fern said, brightening a bit and giving me a wan smile, "I'm just glad they took away his guns."

"He said he was glad to give them up, that he didn't want anything to do with them," I noted, "You have to admit, he was a changed man when he came out of prison."

"I think Aunt Winne had a lot to do with that," Fern said.

"That and his remorse about accidently shooting his son," I reminded her.

"I remember when he got out, he worked with Aunt Winnie on the fairy house museum and became one of the leading conservationists in the state. Aunt Winnie says he's more like he was in his younger days when she first met him," Fern said.

"Do you ever regret that we made him a pixie?" I asked Fern.

"Are you kidding? He and Aunt Winnie have been great with the kids. Who else could we have gotten to babysit on all those warm nights during full moons?" Fern replied.

"Too bad we couldn't have gotten the same results with the senior Knox," I said.

"You mean the ex-senator?" Fern asked, "He deserved everything he had coming to him. He's the one that destroyed the video evidence of Randy's assault on me and my mother. He also took away our police protection that night we returned to the clinic."

"Still, I'm not sure we should have slipped him that plate of pixie mushrooms. I know it was your aunt's idea, but I was worried about what he could have done to those women on his staff," I said.

"It all worked out," Fern said, "Aunt Winnie was on hand to make sure that no real harm would come to those women. The senator only succeeded in embarrassing himself and getting kicked out of politics from the scandal."

"I heard his wife took most of what was left of his fortune from the divorce," I added.

"Oh, speaking of wives, you didn't write anything about our wedding," Fern said, punching me in the shoulder.

"Hey, careful. You almost made me spill my wine," I said, "What do you think I should have written about?"

"The ceremony and reception at least," she said.

"You know Pippie and Fin told me during the reception that we were married in the same meadow your brothers took me to that night I was abducted and got drunk on pixie wine," I told Fern.

"So that's what all that whispering was about. Why did you wait until now to tell me about it?" Fern asked.

"Um...well..." I could feel my face turning red.

"Is it because of all those pixie mushrooms you ate that night? Elfie and Aria told me all about it," Fern said, giving me one of her sexy, lascivious looks.