Ralph and the Pixie

Smiling, he said, ‘Hello, Éha. Have you come to help?’

For once, she seemed serious and completely lucid. ‘Your friend is in danger. Goblins hurt her, didn’t they?’

As though suddenly rooted in stone, Ralph waited for her to continue.

‘They hurt Éha too, long ago. Made her drink poison.’

Ralph was sick with dread. ‘What kind of poison?’

The dark little Pixie looked about, as though fearing to be overheard, and whispered, ‘It is like Banshees, inside the head. They hurt me, always, but I know them and try not to listen. Your friend listens because they promise to make her free. They know this is what she wants.’

Ralph ran a hand through his hair and sat down. Éha watched him with an odd expression, as though she was struggling to concentrate.

‘Éha, is there any way to get rid of this poison?’

She reacted as though he had slapped her. ‘I have endured . . . since I was very small! If there was a way, do you not think I would have given anything . . . anything . . . to be free of it?’

With a sick feeling suddenly gnawing his guts, Ralph said, ‘Maybe the Elves-?’