Pixies were tiny creatures with skin as blue as the sky and wings as delicate as those of a dragonfly. They had long, fine claws and although they were vaguely human-shaped, their faces bore pointed features and black eyes in the shape of diamonds, and sprouting from their heads were two long antennae. They were feathered in places – short, downy fluff like that of a fledgling bird – and when they smiled, their teeth were pointed and shark-like. Generally, they were harmless, but in places like Cornwall and Devon – where they mostly resided – they were known to play tricks on humans when boredom struck. “What are a bunch of pixies doing so far north?” Ezra asked as he perched on a convenient suitcase that was in no way meant to support an adult. Michael flicked his gaze to the closed do