Elliot and the Pixie Plot by Jennifer A. Nielsen

along the way. Wherever he was, Elliot decided he liked this place. He wouldn’t fit inside any of the homes, but it was a friendly looking town. All it needed was a good ice cream store and it would have been perfect.
    “Elliot?” Patches came running up from behind him. “I mean, Your Highness. You’re free?”
    “Is this Burrowsville?” Despite the serious task that lay ahead of him, Elliot couldn’t help but feel excited about seeing the land where he was king.
    “This is Burrowsville. Your home away from home, I hope. You can come to our cave for dinner. My mother really wants to meet you. She just made a fresh batch of turnip juice this morning. Squished it with her own toes.”
    “Yum.” Elliot smiled grimly. “Maybe another time. I need to—”
    “Your Highness?” Fudd came running over a hill and bowed low before Elliot. Back when Fudd was a bad Brownie trying to get Elliot killed, it made sense that he should also be mean-looking. His long, crooked nose and thin slits for eyes seemed a little unusual for a good Brownie, who was most definitely not trying to kill Elliot. But nothing could be done about Fudd’s face, so Elliot had gotten used to it. Fudd clasped his hands together and added, “How did—oh, Princess Fidget must have sent you here.”
    “I need to meet with you and Mr. Willimaker,” Elliot said. “Privately.”
    Fudd nodded, and then said to Patches, “Take the king to Burrow Cave. He should fit comfortably in there.”
    Ten minutes later, Elliot disagreed with Fudd. He did not fit comfortably inside the cave. It was easily wide enough, but he had to tilt his head in order to sit up. He could lie down for the meeting, but that didn’t seem very king-like. Mr. Willimaker and Fudd had offered to bring in some Brownies to dig the floor lower for him, but there was no time.
    With his head tilted almost down to his shoulder, Elliot explained what Fidget wanted him to do.
    “Get a hair from Kovol?” Mr. Willimaker exclaimed. “You can’t.”
    “I have to,” Elliot said. “She still has Tubs in the jail.”
    Mr. Willimaker shook his head. “No, I really meant that you can’t. Humans aren’t allowed in Demon Territory. We don’t get many human visitors, of course, but it’s still the rule. There’s even Elfish guards and a big sign telling humans to stay out.”
    Fudd clamped a hand on Mr. Willimaker’s shoulder and said, “A Brownie could do it.” Mr. Willimaker frowned at Fudd. He didn’t look convinced.
    “How dangerous is Demon Territory if the Demon is asleep?” Elliot asked.
    “How dangerous is a lion’s den if the lion’s asleep?” Mr. Willimaker responded. “And if the lion’s really hungry because he hasn’t eaten for a thousand years? And then you go up and ask him for just one little hair? You think he’ll just smile and hand it over?”
    “Then I’m not sending you there for a job I have to do,” Elliot said. “If you’ll come with me as far as the border of Demon Territory, I’ll do the rest.”
    “Your Highness,” Mr. Willimaker said, “it’s not worth it, not for Tubs Lawless.”
    “Tubs is only here because of me,” Elliot said, sitting up straight and banging his ear on the roof of the cave. He tilted his head a bit more and then said, “I have to do this.”
    “Then we’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Fudd said. “First, Your Highness, I believe you need a good sleep, and you look hungry. Your subjects, the Brownies, would like to honor you with a royal feast tonight.”
    The closest thing to a royal feast Elliot had ever had was when the power went out before Wendy had finished burning dinner and the food came out about right. And he was hungry now.
    Fudd stood. “I’ll take care of dinner plans.” With that, he poofed away.
    Mr. Willimaker stood as well. “And please don’t be offended, Your Highness, but checkered pajamas aren’t the best way to meet your subjects. May I suggest we have a tailor prepare some