Chicory Up: The Pixie Chronicles Read Online Free PDF Page B

that filtered through the broken clouds.
    A bevy of yellow-winged critters flew arrow-straight out of the woods, each holding a hawthorn spike directly in front of them, like spears or swords. They held a tight phalanx formation.
    “So that’s what Thistle wouldn’t talk about this morning.” She pushed her glasses higher on her nose to see them better. Dandelions, probably. They could thrive in any weather.
    “Hey wait a minute!” she called. “Where are you going?”
    The Pixies kept going, not turning their heads to the side or drifting away from the group, so focused they buzzed right by her ear. The last one in line flew close enough to scrape her face with his weapon. She ducked just in time to avoid a nasty wound.
    Not normal Pixie behavior. Memory of blood trickling down Thistle’s palm with the plant spike deeply embedded in her hand made her shudder.
    “Dandelions,” she muttered in disgust. “Put a thought in their heads and there’s not room for anything else until they finish what they’re doing.”
    She turned her attention back to her original chore ofinspecting the preparations for the All Hallows Festival. But not before making a mental note to prod Thistle with the news of a Dandelion army on the march—er—flight. She remembered everything she made notes about.
    The children’s haunted maze started here, in the middle of the knot garden—low-growing edible herbs that had all gone dormant for the season. Then the path progressed around the carriage barn for a brief foray into The Ten Acre Wood, and back out again. The intricate bow of black-and-orange plastic ribbon that Thistle had created showed up fine in daylight. What about after dusk with flashlights?
    She noted some new cobwebs around the display of broken-down wagons in the long shed. Hideously appropriate for the season.
    Hmm, if she brought out her brooms and conservation tools, she could delay having to deal with giving tours of the museum.
    “Stop that!” she told herself.
    “Stop what?” Chase asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her.
    She melted into his warmth, letting his strength make her burdens seem more manageable.
    “Stop thinking up excuses to hide,” she murmured, turning so that she buried her face in his Kevlar-protected chest. She had to be careful to fit her arms above his utility belt with the array of weapons and tools for enforcing the law.
    “That’s my girl.” He bent and brushed his lips across hers gently. “I know it’s hard to break a lifetime of bad habits, but you are doing a marvelous job.” He held her close a moment. “I’ve got time for coffee before I go on patrol if you’ve got some made inside. There’s a missing child report I’d like you to look at.”
    “What child?”
    “Someone you may or may not know. But you could set some Pixies to looking for her.”
    “Then let’s go inside where it’s warm and less damp. I do have coffee. I started a pot the moment I arrived, hoping you’d show up.” She looked up, way up, to engage his gaze. “Chase, can we elope?”
    “Huh?” He put a couple of inches between them, lookingher full in the eyes. “I thought you wanted a big wedding so the planning would help get you used to the idea that you aren’t a spinster hiding in your parents’ house or the basement of the museum.”
    “Mom came home from Stratford-upon-Avon.”
    “Oh. How bad is it?” He grimaced.
    She urged him back to the pioneer home that now housed the historical collections of the region. “Bad,” she said.
    “I know Juliet Carrick can be an out-of-control bulldozer when she gets an idea in her head.”
    “That about describes it.”
    “How bad?” He pulled her to a halt, hands on her shoulders.
    “I told her that neither you nor Dick would wear tights to the wedding, nor padded tunics and lace ruffs. Dad won’t either. He’s threatening not to come home from University of Nevada. What does he need with another degree? For gosh