Deborah frowned. ‘Couldn’t you just get another one?’
Éha shook her head. ‘No more than you could replace a missing finger or hand. This dress is part of me . . . of what I am.’
Deborah was intrigued, but not convinced.
‘Could you . . . show me?’
With a delighted smile, Éha bounced to her feet. ‘Give me your hand.’ Standing up also, Deborah did so. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ said the Pixie, ‘I won’t let you fall.’
Deborah was so surprised by the transformation, and the sudden loss of the ground beneath her feet that she cried out and clutched Éha’s hand with both of her own. She felt suddenly weightless as they hurtled through the air. Getting hold of herself, she tried to take stock of her immediate surroundings. They were high above the stream where it left the forest, and soon were above the forest itself.
‘Relax,’ said Éha, ‘I won’t let you fall.’ The Pixie had changed. With a start, Deborah realised they were both naked, and that her skin was as golden as the little Pixie. Experimentally, she released one hand and tried to glide more naturally beside her friend. She should have been numb with cold, but the golden glow that enveloped both of them was warm as a sunny day. Seeing that Deborah was past being nervous, the little Pixie laughed and shot down towards the forest, hurtling through the trees at breakneck speed, twisting, turning, veering abruptly skyward through the branches and leaves of an enormous old maple-