Back? # **Chapter Sixteen: Put A Little Love In Your Heart** *Orlando, 1:00 PM* --- Song(s): **Cool Yule - Louis Armstrong** --- “Pyxis, please don’t tell me you’re doing what I think you’re doing.” “What else do you want me to do, Delareine? We don’t have any other options, and he doesn’t answer unless I pull a stunt like this. Now, do you want to get home or not?” “Fine, just…don’t get glitter all over the trunk, alright? You know this is a rental.” In the years since she had made the pact with Lucien, Lord of Age and Decay, Pyx had learned a few things about her patron. First, he often went out of his way to avoid her when she wanted to speak to him unless she did something he couldn’t ignore. Second? He hated it when she drew his summoning circle in her medium of choice. So, Pyx began her improvised summoning ritual after a quick stop at a dollar store for a tube of the finest, gaudiest magenta glitter glue she could find, some poster board, and a box of chocolate-covered raisins. She popped open the glue’s cap and drizzled it onto the board in the shape of Lucien’s sigil. She marked the box of raisins with the same symbol, leaving them both to cure under the Floridian sun. Then, once she was sure she wouldn’t make a mess, she loaded the poster board into the trunk and led down on top of it, holding the box of raisins. This was one of the few times her short stature came in handy, as she could somewhat comfortably slot herself into the trunk. Loosening all tension in her body, she reached out to her patron. “Oh, Lucy…” She thought, in a sing-song voice. “I got a gift for you, but you gotta talk to me to get it. C’mon, I know you want it…” A few seconds later, the rest of the vehicle’s occupants could hear her snoring as she was pulled into a vast, inky darkness, nothing but a void as far as her eyes could see. Lucien’s imposing form materialized from the ink, his dark clothing blending into the shadowy landscape -- except for its faint dusting of glittery pink. As a demonic entity twice her height with muscles that could crack her skull like an egg, Pyx needed to do something to help distract her from the thought of a swift, painful death at his hands. Seeing him bathed head to toe in glitter certainly helped. “Not. Funny. Pixie.” He snarled, furiously brushing glitter from his waist-length ebony mane. Pyx snickered. “I don’t know, I think pink’s your colour.” He rolled his eyes, glowing purple irises circling pitch-black sclera. “Maybe blood red is yours,” he muttered before sighing. “What did you want, pixie? I ain’t got all day.” “Hmm, you always say that, yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen you doing anything.” “Shut it!” Lucien’s booming baritone was uncharacteristically tense, and Pyx froze. “If you don’t hurry up, we’re gonna be in for a world of hurt -- both of us.” “Oh…okay. I was just wondering if you could help me and the others get back to Mistvale. We’re kinda stuck in Florida otherwise.” Pyx’s shoulders drooped as she shrunk into herself under the weight of her patron’s rage. “Sorry. I…I shouldn’t have bothered you. If you’re gonna kill me, at least wait until tomorrow. The others have enough crap to deal with right now.” Lucien sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, he admired Pyx’s courage and would often concede at least a little bit of help. After all, their pact had been born from his interest in helping her reclaim her rightful throne, so he was bound to provide some assistance. But this was one situation he wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- budge on. “It…It’s fine. I’m not gonna kill you for something small like that. But you are on your own for this one, Pixie. Trust me, I want Eira sent back to the Underworld as much as y’all do, but I ain’t willin’ to put myself in the middle of all this. Besides, if he finds out I was involved, it’ll just fuel the fire. He ain’t exactly the forgivin’ type, and he’s pretty pissed at me for ditchin’ the rest of the Lords. If he finds out where I am, he ain’t stoppin’ until he drags me back home, one way or another.” “I…” A pit opened in Pyx’s stomach, but for once, Lucien was justified in denying his help. She didn’t know the specifics but knew it would be bad news for everyone if he was forced to return to the Underworld. “Alright. Keep yourself safe. And enjoy the raisins -- those are genuinely a gift from me. Merry Feast!” A ‘thank you’ died on Lucien’s lips. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. Still, he managed a nod of acknowledgement. Not everyone would remember his favourite snack, let alone bring him some. “Good luck, pixie.” Pyx spent the remainder of the afternoon in a deep, restful sleep, courtesy of her patron. Although he was unwilling to interfere directly, it was the least he could do. If she was going toe-to-toe with one of his former allies, she’d need all the help she could get.