Calla

The Pixieland Diaries Book 2

Christina Bauer

Copyright

Monster House Books

Newton, MA 02434

ISBN 9781946677426

First Edition

Copyright © 2020 by Monster House Books LLC

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Elf portrait by Majorgaine

Contents

Dedication

Collected Works

Calla

Day Seventy-One

Day Seventy-One And A Half

Day Seventy-Two

Day Seventy-Three

Day Seventy-Four

Day Seventy-Five

Day Seventy-Five And Three-Quarters

The Last Part Of Day Seventy-Five

Day Seventy-Six

Day Seventy-Six And A Half

Day Seventy-Six and Three-Quarters

Day Seventy-Seven

Day Seventy-Nine

Day Eighty

Day Eighty And A Half

Day Eighty-One

Day Eighty-One And A Half

Day Eighty-One And A Mean Queen

Day Eighty-One And Three Quarters

Saturday

Sunday

Sunday And A Half

Monday

Monday And A Half

Monday And Three Quarters

Tuesday

Tuesday And a Half

Wednesday

Wednesday And A Half

Thursday

Friday

Friday And A Bit

Friday And Some More

Friday And Even More

Friday Continueth

Friday Just Won’t End

Day Eighty-Nine

Day Ninety

Day Ninety-One

Day Ninety-Two

Day Ninety-Three

Day Ninety-Four

DARE - Book Description

Also By Christina Bauer

DARE

ANGELBOUND

FAIRY TALES OF THE MAGICORUM

DIMENSION DRIFT

BEHOLDER

Appendix

If You Enjoyed This Book…

Acknowledgments

About Christina Bauer

Subscribe

Afterword

Dedication

For All Those Who Kick Ass, Take Names

And Read Books

Collected Works

Pixieland Diaries

Sassy pixie Calla loves elf prince Dare. Too bad he hasn’t noticed her. Yet.

1. Pixieland Diaries

2. Calla

3. Dare

4. Lost Prince

5. Ley Queen

Angelbound Offspring

The next generation takes on Heaven, Hell, and everything in between

1. Maxon

2. Portia

3. Zinnia

4. Rhodes

5. Kaps

6. Mack

7. Huntress

Angelbound Origins

About a quasi (part demon and part human) girl who loves kicking butt in Purgatory's Arena

1. Angelbound

2. Scala

3. Acca

4. Thrax

5. The Dark Lands

6. The Brutal Time

7. Armageddon

8. Quasi Redux

9. Aquila

Angelbound Lincoln

The Angelbound experience as told by Prince Lincoln

1. Duty Bound

2. Lincoln

3. Trickster

4. Baculum

5. Angelfire

Fairy Tales of the Magicorum

Modern fairy tales with sass, action, and romance

1. Wolves and Roses

2. Moonlight and Midtown

3. Shifters and Glyphs

4. Slippers and Thieves

5. Bandits and Ball Gowns

6. Evil Queens and Goblin Kings

Dimension Drift

Dystopian adventures with science, snark, and hot aliens

1. Scythe

2. Umbra

3. Alien Minds

4. ECHO Academy

*This is a completed series.

Beholder

Where a medieval farm girl discovers necromancy and true love

1. Cursed

2. Concealed

3. Cherished

4. Crowned

5. Cradled

*This is a completed series.

Calla

Day Seventy-One

Dear Diary,

Today I dish out some diabolic retaliation harmless prankster fun on my new royal subjects, the summer elves.

Trust me, they totally have it coming.

Why the revenge? Yesterday, I held my first formal court as Queen of the Summer Realm. It should’ve been eight hours of chatting with my elf nobles.

Only no one showed up.

We are not amused.

Time to get tricksy.

This morning marks my second formal court… as well as some mega payback prank. While I write this, I sit upon a throne of red flowers. The shade goes perfectly with my pink hair, matching wings and violet eyes. Naturally, I have the pointy ears that mark me as an elf in terms of bloodline (although I’ll always be a pixie at heart.) And let’s not forget my ermine cloak; it adds a splash of white to the look. Clutch.

Yet appearances come second to my dazzling plan. Although my subjects been avoiding me for weeks, that will end once the court doors reopen in just a few minutes.

I’ve so got this.

Sighing, I soak in the beauty of this moment. A huge atrium towers around me. Sunlight pours in through the open ceiling. The walls and tiles are painted gold. A pile of tiny purple bags sit in the middle of the floor.

Bonjour, le elf bait.

Those packets hold fairy dust, which is powerful magic that every fae wants. My prank is how these bags also contain… wait for it… a freezing spell. Grab one and you can’t leave the room until I say so.

My scheme is so perfect, I can’t stand it.

There will also be plenty of witnesses for my glorious success. My parents, Poppa and Muti, wait nearby. So does my best friend and major crush, Prince Dare of the Winter Elves. Let’s not forget my buddy Bilge, the hobgoblin, and his piggy familiar, Oinky. Also, there are two summer elf guards—I call them Blond and Blonder—who hang out by the back wall.

Speaking of guards, they look expectantly in my direction. The time has come to set aside my journal—it magically shrinks into a locket that hangs about my neck—and get ready for the fun.

Prank on.

- Calla

Day Seventy-One And A Half

Dear Diary,

When we last left my life, I was about to launch my tricky revenge on the snotty elves who’ve been avoiding me begin a lighthearted prank in order to chat with my standoffish subjects.

My guards wait by the golden doors to my court chamber.

Heh heh heh.

“Let’s begin,” I command.

Moving in unison, the guards heave the doors wide open. “Hear ye! Hear ye! Queen Calla now holds her second formal court. All noble elves may enter and be heard.”

I cup my hand by my mouth. “Guys, you’re forgetting the best part.” I gesture toward the mountain of tiny silk bags that sit in the center of the floor.

“Right,” say the guards in unison. “Free bags of fairy dust!”

Staring at the opened doors, I brace myself for the onslaught. Any second now, a horde of elves will rush into this room, only to get caught like so many little spiders in my massive royal web.

Yet no one walks in.

I wait some more.

Still nothing.

Minutes go by.

Nada in the visitor category.

Hours slowly tick past.

And wouldn’t you know it? Not one summer elf shows up.

In my fist, I hold the Scepter of Summer, a golden stick that packs all my queenly magic. I named it Sammy because that’s how I roll. Now I lift the scepter, a movement that should inspire awe in my subjects and friends.

That doesn’t exactly happen.

Instead of gasping in amazement, Blond and Blonder screech in terror as they race away. The main doors close behind them with a deafening slam. I’d be surprised, but my guards do this every time I crack out Sammy. Who cares that whenever I wield my scepter, I blow a few things up? Sammy and I will fall into a magical groove eventually. Maybe.

From here, things get worse.

My parents—along with Bilge and Oinky—rush to hide behind my throne. This isn’t the first time they’ve done a duck and cover move from my spellwork, either. At least they’re staying in the same room.

Dare saunters closer. Now I can enjoy one of my favorite views: the Prince of the Winter Elves. Ah, Dare. The prince is muscly and tall with strong bone structure and longish brown hair. Like always, he wears black body armor and a fur cloak.

“What magic are you planning?” asks Dare.

“Another summoning spell.” I don’t need to explain why I’m casting it, either. You can’t rule subjects that you never meet.

Dare pulls his brows together. “You’ve tried that before.”

“Only four hundred times. Something keeps blocking my powers. Maybe attempt number four-oh-one will be my lucky number.”

“Just point Sammy upward.”

“Good idea.”

This room wasn’t always an atrium; it used to have a ceiling. During my tenth attempt to summon my elves, I somehow blew off the roof. It’s an improvement, in my opinion. More air flow.

In any case, my next summoning spell will be the ticket. I tighten my grip on Sammy.

“Here goes,” I announce. My cheering section from behind the throne goes into action.

“We’ve always loved you,” says Muti.

“Don’t kill yourself,” adds Poppa. “Or us.”

“I brewed extra healing potion, just in case,” offers Bilge. Oinky snuffles his agreement.

“Thanks, guys.” What else can I say? They mean well.

I raise my arm high. Tendrils of golden light whirl about the top of the scepter. “I hereby command thee, Sammy the Scepter—”

Suddenly, Sammy melts into liquid gold on my palm. From there, he drips to the floor, only to reform as a sphere that’s large as a human’s basketball. And he proceeds to bounce around the room.

Not again.

Little click-clack noises sound as Oinky runs out from behind my throne to chase Sammy around the chamber.

I slump back onto my seat. Which isn’t a good idea, considering how the thing’s made from prickly roses. “I don’t get it,” I moan. “Sammy worked great the first day I wielded him. Remember how I blew up all the bad people at Lotti The Snotty Potty’s Big Fat Fake Wedding? That was awesome.”

“It was.” And Dare should know. It was his body double that almost wed the Snotty Potty in question.

“And there’s more,” I go on. “I even rebuilt the Summer Palace after the wedding, easy peasy. But now Sammy’s being a DISOBEDIENT LITTLE CREEP!”

I have to yell that last bit because Sammy and Oinky are now dancing around the far side of the room. For his part, Sammy pauses in mid-air, spins around, and then keeps right on bouncing.

Smart ass.

Blond and Blonder burst back into the chamber, see Sammy and Oinky, scream in terror, and then sprint in my direction. The guards slide across the floor on their knees, stopping just before my throne. I’d be shocked, but Blond and Blonder do stuff like this whenever Sammy’s hopping around.

“A message, your Majesty.” Blond holds up a large envelope.

“Thanks.” I raise my hands. “Toss it here.”

At this point, the guards are supposed to do some formal falderal where they step up to my throne, say a little speech, and then hand over any official message. So annoying. Earlier today, I issued the Royal Decree Of High Velocity Mail Delivery. Now they can just throw things at me.

Blond chucks the envelope at my face. Catching it, I tear open the message. Boo. A repeat. This exact same note has been sent to yours truly at least a dozen times.

Oh Queen Calla,

You are hereby invited to visit me at my palace in the Winter Realm. I have information to assist with your reign.

- The Gargoyle King

I offer the letter to Dare, who scans the contents. “I can’t believe he’s still at it,” says the prince.

Dare knows everyone in the Winter Realm. According to the the prince, gargoyles do indeed live in the Eidolon Mountains. They never had a king, though.

“With your permission,” states Dare, “I’ll take this back to my court. Perhaps my mages will find some way to detect the author.”

“Sure. Have fun.”

Dare slips the envelope into the folds of his cloak. The Mages of the Winter Court have been casting spells to detect the Gargoyle King’s identity for days. Nothing has worked yet.

All of which is really beside the point. Writing in a diary means being totally honest.

So here goes.

Today’s Fairy Dust Prank is a total failure.

My subjects are still avoiding me. As in, the palace halls are forever empty. People leave food at my door and run. It’s unacceptable.

“Sammy!” I call. “Get back here! It’s time to cast another summoning spell on my court.”

My only reply is more boinging around the room.

I slump even lower in my seat, a movement which makes the rose prickles dig deeper into my butt cheeks. Maybe it’s because Sammy always drains my energy, but I can’t find it in me to care about a perforated butt right now.

Bilge tiptoes out from behind the throne. He’s a squat green hobgoblin with a bald head, tiny eyes and pointy ears. Normally, tusks jut out from his lower lip. Not now, though. Bilge’s big teeth just molted. As a result, my hobgoblin friend thinks he’s a sexy creature. In fact, when Bilge talks these days, he sounds like a human DJ on a racy radio program. I constantly imagine saxophone solos playing behind him.

“I know why the summer elves avoid it,” says Bilge.

“Let’s hear it,” I declare. “Can’t wait.”

Which is a total fib. We’ve had this why does everyone avoid Calla conversation multiple times today. I could live without another repeat. But this is my family and they’re trying to help. And honestly? They might come up with something good.

“Perhaps the summer elves avoid any faeling,” offers Bilge.

“That could explain things,” I say.

See? Helpful.

For years, everyone thought I was a faeling, which is a human baby who soaks in enough magic to become a pixie or whatever. In Faerie, t’s not exactly the height of cool.

Poppa and Muti fly out from behind my throne. They’re tree sprites with crinkly faces, long gray hair and short white robes. Their little wings flap in a speedy rhythm. Is it weird to address ankle-high people as your parents? Nah. I got used to it ages ago.

“Bilge is wrong,” says Muti.

I lean forward. “How so?”

“The problem are your pranks,” adds Poppa. “You’re not evil enough. Offering packets of faerie dust is just too nice.”

This is an ongoing theme with my parents. Calla is overly kind. According to them, my soul will soon get chewed up by the other residents of Faerie.

“I’ll work on being mean,” I offer. My parents exhale with relief. I turn to Dare. “What do you think?”

Dare gives me the side-eye. So far, he’s only participated once in the why everyone avoids Calla conversation. The prince’s theory is simple: Sammy scares people. And the Dare doesn’t have to repeat that concept; I already know what he’s thinking.

I shoot him the side-eye right back. “You’re wrong.”

Dare winks. “I didn’t say a word.”

“The problem is not Sammy. My scepter is awesome.”

“Yet when you use it, the scepter tires you.”

“Only a little.”

Actually, a lot. As a matter of fact, just lifting Sammy earlier today was a total energy suck. Not that I’ll admit this to Dare.

“Here’s what’s important,” I announce. “Someone’s magically protecting my court from being summoned to my wonderful presence. Who? Why?”

Dare keeps working his side-eye. I can imagine his voice in my head. There’s one answer to all your questions: It’s Sammy’s fault.

Sadly, in this case, Dare may be right. Partially.

“I suppose it could be Sammy… a little.” An idea hits me. “I’ve got it! I’ll practice wielding Sammy and show everyone what a great team we are.”

Blond and Blonder race for the doors. “Run for your lives! The incompetent queen is about to kill us all!”

I really wish I could fire them, but they’re the only two who enter my presence.

The guards aren’t alone in getting spooked, either. Poppa and Muti flit away at double speed. “See you later, honey.” They make a beeline out the missing ceiling.

“Oinky and I must also leave,” announces Bilge. “It will draw my portrait while I’m gone.” In this scenario, it means me. That’s just how hobgoblins talk.

Bilge pulls a small vial from his pocket and drops it onto the floor. Matching puffs of red smoke appear around him and his pig. When the mist clears, the pair have also vanished. Bilge is a potions master, so the puff and go maneuver is his version of an emergency exit.

I roll my eyes. “There was no need for everyone to run. I didn’t say I’d test my magic out right now.”

“True.” Dare tilts his head. “What was that about Bilge and a portrait?”

“Oh, Bilge wants to get a girlfriend before his tusks regrow. I said I’d draw him in his less toothy state. He needs it for some kind of dating exchange thing. I try not to ask too many questions.”

“Indeed. When do you plan to practice your spell work?”

“First thing tomorrow. The Buttercup Forest.”

“See you then.”

Notice how Dare doesn’t ask if he can join me? It’s because I’d tell him no. He’s a pushy prince when he’s in the zone.

Dare removes a wand from under his fur cloak. It’s a gift from my mother, the Ley Queen, and it helps the prince transport back and forth between the Summer and Winter Realms. He waves the wand. A cloud of blue magic surrounds the prince.

One second, there’s Dare. The next, I’m alone. Unless you count Sammy, who still bounces up a storm.

Honestly, who could find him scary?

I decide to spend the evening in the royal library. Sure, I’ve checked the place a kabillion times, but there could be a book somewhere about wielding my scepter. Maybe it got stored on the wrong shelf.

And if that doesn’t work? I’ll try something else. I simply won’t give up until I figure this thing out.

After all, that’s what it means to be queen.

- Calla

Day Seventy-Two

Dear Diary,

Today was my first official test with Sammy the Scepter. I might have melted the Buttercup Forest.

Oops.

- Calla

Day Seventy-Three

Dear Diary,

Second day of scepter testing. I got the Buttercup Forest back. All the trees can now talk. They keep saying how I suck at being queen.

Stupid trees.

- Calla

Day Seventy-Four

Dear Diary,

Day three of testing. Sammy was a total pain today. I spent all morning chasing his little bouncing butt all over the palace. Didn’t cast one spell.

There must another way to find out what’s wrong with my subjects.

And it needs to include a good prank.

- Calla

Day Seventy-Five

Dear Diary,

Ba ba ba ba ba ba BAAAAA!

I now have a master plan for entrapping my elf nobles. Not to toot my own horn about this scheme, but toot toot. The brilliance of this setup is how it’s based on the greatest secret in elfdom. In fact, if this truth were widely known, it could upend the very balance of power between Earth and Faerie.

I’ll share it here anyway because although I’m now an elf queen, in my heart I’ll always remain a nasty-ass pixie.

My Mind-Blowing Secret

Behold: If you wish to lure elves somewhere, just leave out a bowl of Cheetos. That stuff is elf crack. The end.

Amazing, am I right?

Last time I used bait, I chose fairy dust. Big miss. Someone cast a spell protecting my people from being magically summoned by yours truly. Since fairy dust is magic—or in the case of my scheme, magic that’s boobytrapped with even more magic—it set off the protection spell. No one showed up.

This time, I’m using an elf lure that is magic-free. One might think the lowly Cheeto is not up to this mighty task. One would be sorely mistaken.

Mysteries of the Cheeto

One. You cannot enchant other foods into Cheetos. Magically-made snacks simply don’t carry that special chemical tang that says humans made this.

Two. If you’re a Cheetelf—and yes, that’s totally a thing—then your treats only come from Earth. Which isn’t an easy trip for most fae. For my part, I’ve been visiting the human world for ages. It’s one benefit of having the Ley Queen as my secret mom. Long story.

Three. These days, my Cheeto collection is so large, I could trade it for a huge chunk of land in Upper Faerie.

Four. Yet I’m sacrificing part of my snacks in order to lure my new subjects, the summer elves, into a face-to-face chat. Nyah.

To set my trap, I choose the Sunflower Chamber of my new palace. It’s a round space with a circular table in the center. As you may have guessed, everything here is painted in a retina-searing shade of yellow. After setting out a massive bowl in the table’s center, I pour in five party-size bags of Cheetos.

Phase one of my plan is complete.

Waving my hand, I release enough fairy dust to create an enchanted puff of air. The breeze carries some chemical cheese odor out into the hallway and beyond.

Phase two, coming up.

Tiptoeing across the room, I scoot behind the door and wait. To kill time, I straighten the ermine cloak hanging over my shoulders. Underneath I still wear my favorite pink dress because COMFORT and POCKETS. In my right hand, I grip my scepter.

Suddenly, a stampede of silk-clad feet sounds down the outer hallway. My prey arriveth. Voices echo into the Sunflower Chamber.

“Stand aside!”

“You tripped me!”

“Allow me to pass. I rule the Blue Woods.”

A herd of pale elves speed into the room. After a dozen folks surround the table, I slam the doors shut behind me.

“Ah HA!” I cry.

Shocked faces look up from the bowl. Somehow, in a matter of seconds, these elves managed to smear orange cheese fluff around their mouths. It’s like I’ve joined a pointy-eared clown convention.

Scanning the room, I catalog the various faces. As I’d hoped, the most powerful elves were able to trip, elbow or out-magic their way in.

The group stares between me and the now-empty bowl. When it comes to Cheetos, these people are vicious.

“Have a seat,” I offer.

No one moves.

So I raise my arm, showing off my golden staff. “Behold, Sammy the Magical Scepter!”

Silence.

“You really should clap or something,” I warn. “He’s kind of an attention hog.”

Still no reply. Everyone stays frozen in their respective positions. It’s like that human painting of the last supper, only with Cheetos.

Without any command from his queen, Sammy melts from my hand to reform as a golden ball.

“You asked for it.” I roll my eyes. “Here we go.”

Sure enough, Sammy—who has now maintains his decidedly round shape—proceeds to bounce about the room.

I’ll be honest. The first time my scepter changed into a ball, I freaked out and hid under my bed. But Sammy slowly rolled his circular self under the mattress and hung out with me for a while. I realized that shapeshifting is just what Sammy does.

And he’s up to it again.

Boing, boing, boing… Sammy keeps bouncing around. Nothing gets knocked over, but it’s certainly a great show. He won’t stop until he tuckers out or gets some attention, so I let out an overly-loud cheer. Sammy then rolls across the floor and up my side. Once he reaches my hand, Sammy elongates back into his regular scepter form.

I try to cheer but let out a yawn instead. Something about Sammy doing his bouncy thing always makes me tired. What am I saying? Whenever Sammy does stuff, it wipes me out.

Meanwhile, everyone else in the room remains frozen in place. Before, I just thought they were standing around. Now I realize their eyes are wide with fear. Some even shake in terror.

This can’t be right.

Before I came to the throne, Protector Lazare wielded Sammy for years. At some point, the scepter must have done its spheroid thing before the whole court. I shake Sammy. “Come on, you must have watched Sammy do his follow the bouncing ball routine at least once.”

There’s no verbal reply, but quite a lot of shaking heads.

Never seen Sammy bounce. Now I know.

“Well,” I state. “This is what Sammy does and there’s no need to worry. Moving on.” I plunk onto a chair. “Guys, please rest your butts.” With robotic movements, everyone sits down. “So glad you all came here to greet me, your new queen. Let’s start with the basics. Why have you been avoiding my royal self?”