Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) (8 page)

             
Holly nods. “That’s what years of working sunrise to sundown without a day off can do to you. Her reality is our future.” With a
bleak
look, she adds, “We’re all going to die here.” Overcome by our dire situation, I feel the need to comfort her, to comfort myself. I reach out and place my hand
up
on her shoulder and we stand in silence for a moment, both looking at our feet.

             
I’m not sure what I’m feeling right at this moment. I know I should be angry, and I am. I want to lash out at my captors and inflict the same pain they’ve inflicted on me. I want to snatch and roughly break their wings. I want to throw them away in a dark pit and let them starve to death, spending the days that pass thinking they’re going to die. I want them to desperately try to escape and injure themselves further in the process. But at the same time I feel all this anger, I sort of feel defeated. And I hate myself for that. I don’t want to be defeated. To be stolen and forced into slavery. I want my fellow pixies to realize I didn’t leave at my own volition and come look for me. To come save me and all the others taken against their will. But deep down I know that won’t happen. Because they think I’m flighty and expected me to up and leave one day. And it makes me sad. And makes me wonder about all those pixies that left our Hollow and never came back. Were they stolen too?

             
I’m about to ask Holly, but her attention is diverted to the sky. I drop my arm as several spriggans fly into the pit and begin
plucking
pixies, taking them topside. I’ve never seen a spriggan before but I recognize them easily. The largest of the faeries, they’re both taller and bulkier in the muscle department, which is why they’re often used for protection or mercenary-type positions. Their skin is the color of dried mud and rough like sandpaper, with bulbous spade-shaped heads that seem abnormally large, even for their body size. These particular spriggans all have the same black hair
,
cut an inch long and spiked upward.

             
“Rosalie, when we reach the work line, go all the way to the end. That’s where you and I are working today, okay?” I nod, silently watching the spriggans snag one pixie after another. “Just stay quiet, don’t fidget when they move you and don’t talk when they’re around. Got it?” I nod again, just as two spriggans return to the pit to collect us. My captor grabs me under my arms from behind and my feet leave the ground.
He holds me awkwardly away from his body, as if I’m the one that’s disgusting to touch.
His hands are sweaty against my skin and I do my best not to cringe, especially since I could slip out of his grasp so easily. The pit’s walls are about
one hundred inches
high so it doesn’t take long to ascend to the top. My skin shivers as we exit the pit. He disposes of me next to the other pixies, who quietly hang their heads and fall into line. I do the same, fighting
the
curiosity
to scan my surroundings
.

             
We walk for at least ten minutes
,
but I don’t mind. After being trapped in a hole for several days, it just feels good to be out stretching my legs, even with my muscles twitching and cramping in protest. It seems our pit is on the outskirts of a forest because we immediately step onto a path and venture inward. The trail we’re following is well worn and I know it’s because these pixies have trampled it for an endless amount of days. Do they stomp on purpose? Maybe hoping some pixie or decent-hearted faerie will follow it out of curiosity and discover this unlawful prison? I stomp a little harder than necessary myself, ignoring the aching in my knees. Our steps fall in sync and the repetitive steps are both rhythmic and hypnotic. It’s almost soothing – at least for me – and it’s possible nature agrees. The forest is eerily silent. I’m not sure if all the living things are quietly watching as we pass
by
or if they’ve bailed on this area completely.

             
As we march, I keep my head forward but push my eyes as far outward as possible, sweeping the forest. There’s literally no brush or weeds or flowers or anything around the trunks. The forest appears desolate, almost like a fire rolled through once and nature never recovered. There are a lot of trees still standing, but without wings to fly, there was nowhere to hide from the spriggans that would give chase. And right now is my best time to run, before I get any weaker from starvation and begin to look like my fellow prisoners. I feel a little more defeated inside. I realize with each passing second how difficult it’ll be to escape this nightmare. But still, the temptation to run is great.

             
The line stalls and I lightly bump into the pixie in front of me. She doesn’t turn or react in any way. I brave a peek above her shoulder and see the opening to a cave.
At first
I wonder if it’s the one I was kept in, but I don’t see any water dripping over the entrance or collecting on the ground
, so it couldn’t be
. Two spriggans stand guard as pixies begin to disappear into the cave, collecting a glass lantern as they enter. Two of the pixies
collect a basket made of dried
out vines and head off into the forest. A third spriggan follows closely behind. My head follows them, then to the surrounding forest. Still nothing to hide behind if I run.
No wonder the faeries chose this place for a slave camp.

             
I hear a quiet, “Uh-uh,” from the pixie behind me but don’t dare turn to face her. She continues with a hushed, yet harsh, “Don’t. It’s been tried before. Don’t”. The way her words came off all mumbled, no way she opened her mouth to say any of that. I turn my head forward again and catch the
black, beady
eye of one of the guards. It startles me, and I drop my head and stare at the ground, refusing to look upward again. As I near the entrance, I too collect a lantern and step through, fighting the incredible urge to take a closer look at the guards. Of course it doesn’t keep me from smelling them though, and the sourness makes the water in my stomach churn.

             
The line moves slowly as I step into the cave. Probably because each pixie is waiting for her eyes to adjust like I am. Once we’re advancing again I take a peek at the stations I pass. The first has a couple of square holes recessed in the cave wall. Two pixies are piling wood from the log stacks into the lower holes. My best guess as I continue on is the heat is used for drying the mushrooms
, an absolute must when powderizing mushrooms we use for dust
.

             
The rest of the work line is one wood table after another, with each section descending in height ever so slightly. Since each section has its own hand-cranked conveyor belt, the slight decrease allows room for the mushrooms to be dumped at the next station without affecting the rest of the line. Some pixies are already in position, but since the line hasn’t officially begun, I’m not quite sure what all the steps are. I make my way to the back of the line, which happens to be the end of the cave itself. Holly is already there, waiting patiently. She reaches for my lantern, and surprisingly, sets it down on the front end of the table. Without it, our spot in the back of the cave is incredibly dim.

             
I look forward at the entire line. The cave is long and skinny and I can barely see the fire glowing from the pits up front. Two other pixies, both sage in color, share our station and begin sifting through the dust on the table without even acknowledging our presence. Holly just stands there watching the line intently, leaving me utterly confused, not knowing what to do.

             
“Alright,” she says. For some reason, she doesn’t begin working on the pile of dust before us, but steps back and sits against the back wall. She pats the ground beside her and I willingly join her. “Rosalie, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions. Scratch that. I know you do. But today you and I have the back end of the line, which means we get to rest. Every day we advance the line in pairs, or threes, depending on our numbers. Which basically means you’ll complete the line in about ten days. As I’m sure you’ve probably figured out on your own, we don’t get days off. We work sunrise to sundown every day. That’s why we’ve given structure to the line. If we didn’t we’d all be dead on the floor by now. The back end is our
day off
,” she says, adding air quotations around the last two words.

             
“Once an hour the spriggans will walk through the cave to check on us. When they do, those working the fires up front will pretend to cough over the smoke. That’s our warning to get up on our feet and begin sifting through the dust on the table. Any other time during the day, we’re meant to rest our bodies.”

             
I look apprehensively to the pixies nearest us. They all seem so exhausted. Yeah, I’m tired, but my problem is more starvation than exhaustion. “I feel so bad, Holly. So many of these pixies look like they’re ready to drop dead on their feet.”

             
“That’s
be
cause they are.” Those words disturb me. I cringe and drop my head. Holly lays her hand softly below my neck. “Don’t feel guilty, Rosalie. You just spent four days in the hole without food or water. You’ve earned this spot. Anyways, every new pixie starts here on day one. No one in that line will have ill thoughts over you being here today. So just sit back and try to relax. Sleep if you can. Ivy and Lily will wake us if we’re asleep when the spriggans come through.”

             
I nod my head and her hand disappears from my back. I lean into the wall, squirming until I find a comfortable spot. I have so many questions but can’t deny I’m sleepy too. I roll my head sideways, thinking I’ll get in a quick question or two, but Holly has already closed her eyes. In fact, by the sound of her breathing, I think she’s already asleep.
Dang
. Only utter exhaustion could get me to fall asleep upon impact.

             
I close my eyes too, wishing that when I awake, I’ll be blinded by the sunlight seeping in through the thatch of my tree house.

“Get up!” a voice yells in a hushed tone,
hands grasping my arms and
shaking me violently. Scared out of my wits, I jump to my feet, completely freaking out. My breaths are fast and panicky, and it takes a second to remember where I am. Holly pushes me toward the table and immediately sifts through the dust.

             
“Rosalie,” she says quietly, “be meticulous as you go through the dust. Literally make it look like we examine each particle before we bag it.”

             
I nod, examining the brown powder on the table. I’m not quite sure what it is I’m supposed to be separating, but I don’t dare ask since our corner of the cave is quickly becoming illuminated with additional light. I keep my head down and sift the dust with my fingertips, dividing the dust based on shades of brown. Luckily, Ivy or Lily moved our lanterns to our side of the table during my panic attack so I can actually see what I’m examining. My heart pounds so hard and loud, just like those hide-covered drums the male pixies beat on during celebrations back home in the Hollow. I’m sure the noise will give me away and the spriggan will beat my guilty conscience-self silly for not working this last hour. But the light begins to fade, and my heart slows down the dimmer it gets.

             
Holly releases a long sigh and stands erect, rubbing her eyebrows. I follow her lead and the other two pixies relax a bit as well, relocating the lanterns to their end of the table again. We fall to the floor and transfer the burden of our weight to the cave wall.

             
I suddenly realize how hot it is in here. I can only imagine the heat coming off the fires and the poor pixies working beside it. Tiny beads of sweat are seeping out my skin and reflecting what little light we have. “Holly, is there any water?”

             
Her head rolls toward me with closed eyes. She nods and murmurs, “Mmm-hmm. Someone should have left us a bucket in the corner.” I search our tiny back area and find the bucket. I gulp several times and splash a bit on my face and neck. It barely lowers my body temperature but I do feel a little cooler. Unfortunately, adding more water to my system backfires on me. My bladder suddenly becomes aware how full it is. All the water I drank this morning has finally gone through my system.