Dusk ’til Dawn by Kerry Buchanan


Feb 12, 2007

The showy red coat looked bright and cheery from a distance, but up close the patched cloth indicated a dismal fairy on his uppers.

“What the feck d’you think you’re doing?” the leprechaun screeched as I caught him by the ear, pinching firmly between thumb and forefinger to make sure he didn’t escape. He wriggled and threw himself around, but I had a good grip and wasn’t about to let go.

“If you release me now, I’ll grant you any wish your heart desires,” he said.

“Do you think I was born yesterday? Save your breath for squealing. One.”

“All right,” he said, sounding deflated. “You win. I’m your prisoner. I’ll do whatever you say.” His shoulders slumped and even the brim of his tricorn hat seemed to droop with dejection.

I kept my face stern. “Two.”

“Who the feck have you been talking to? There hasn’t been a human in five hundred years as knows the forms.”

I've read it twice now but I still can't suss out where she went wrong :unsure:
She doesn't keep still. The King takes a step back and she follows him, by way of keeping up the pressure; then he and the leprechaun move some yards away, talking low, so she creeps nearer to try and overhear. Because of the fog she doesn't realise they've led her into a trap

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