The Various Emprises of Leaf & Lynn

The mist in the air was cool when Lynn stepped out of the front door of her house in the woods. She yawned and rubbed her arms for warmth, surveying her property and the wilderness beyond and admiring the mist that clung to the shadows.

This was hers now. All hers.

Riley would hate this place, she thought to herself (not for the first time) and smirked with grim satisfaction.

The scent of pine was heavy in the air, as well as the smell of firewood burning in her own fireplace. Lynn put her ash blonde hair up with a worn blue bandana and checked on the small garden on her porch: a collection of hanging planters, pots of every size, and full raised garden beds that created short walls for the front of the porch. She had small herbs for now, but visions of roses, moonflowers, carnations, and tiger lilies (her favorite), along with pumpkins, tomatoes, snap peas, and cucumbers danced across her imagination and she was determined to make it a reality. It would feel good to make something so tangibly alive.

The sound of the falls in the distance caught her ear, and she decided to have her morning coffee on the bank of the lake that lay beneath the crashing waters. Grabbing her cup, she went to the kitchen, put together a basket full of her own homemade muffins, and strode out down the gravel strewn path and into the hushed low-light of the woods, dripping pine nettles close on either side.

Lynn thought as she walked, remembering; her last encounter with her mother had been a breaking point and just thinking about it set her teeth on edge. The implication that Lynn’s relationship with Riley was her fault: the abuse, the cheating, the depression. No. She refused to take blame and she doubly refused to let her thoughts be dragged back there. That had been a year ago and might as well have been forever.

At a bend in the way, the path suddenly opened to the grey morning light and the falls came into view, a panorama as magnificent as ever. Her favorite boulder, flat-topped and hip-height, was where it always was, touching the water and providing a splendid view of both the falls and the lake. She climbed up and plopped down, the motion comfortably familiar.

Today however, she stopped, surprised by the presence of a tall, lithe figure fishing silently off of the bank, obviously wandering in their own mind.

She gathered her bearings quickly and called out, “Hey! Nice day for trespassing, right?”

She never got an answer to her question, as the man jumped back in his surprise and promptly slipped on the wet rocks; his head and feet quickly exchanged places and, just as quickly, he crumpled in an unconscious heap.

Lynn shook her head, sighing, and walked over to attend to the clumsy trespasser.

Maybe I should’ve just left well enough alone and let the man do his damn fishing.

It was late morning and Lynn had just collapsed on her sofa, a dirty sweaty mess.

All told, it had taken three trips to get the man back to her house.

When she’d initially tried to support and carry him, she’d discovered to her dismay that the son of a bitch was quite a bit heavier than he appeared.

So she’d gone back to her shed, gotten a wheelbarrow, and discovered to her further dismay that the son of a bitch was quite a bit longer and lankier than he appeared. His hands and feet dragged the ground as she pushed the wheel barrow.

So she’d gone back to the shed, grabbed an old sled and some rope, tied the heavy, lanky son of a bitch to the sled, and dragged his Sleeping Beauty ass the whole way back.

Three trips. She was tired and not happy.

It was this general disgruntlement that let her rationalize going through the man’s satchel. She found a small pouch of nuts and dried fruit, a few rolled and wax-sealed documents, and a single cream-colored business card, the texture as much like stiff cloth as paper. It was oddly blank and she turned it over to see a matching nothing on the other side. Upon turning it back over however, there was now a single blood-red “X” on the front, much to her surprise. Beyond the unease that the sudden change itself invoked, she felt an ambiguous dread settle in her chest upon looking at the red mark, though she couldn’t say why.

She quickly put the card back in his wallet and put it in the bag that he’d had with him, her curiosity and indignation sated enough to keep her from further digging through his bag. She put his fishing pole up against the wall next to hers by the front door, giving it a quick once over first and admiring the solid wood and the intricate carvings along its length.

Dusting her hands, Lynn walked over to the door to her room and rapped lightly on the door, before opening it. Her mystery guest still slept on her bed, his breathing slow and even, his wavy auburn hair a halo around his head. It was odd seeing someone else in her bed, but she didn’t really have anywhere else to keep him besides the floor, and that just seemed rude for a potentially concussed person.

“Hit your noggin pretty hard, huh, big guy?” she sighed. She hadn’t had visitors...in a while, and she wasn’t sure what the protocol was for this situation. Did she wake him up and send him on his way? Make him dinner? Invite him for a drink?

Quietly leaving the room, she set to handling various tasks about the house. She had cleaned her few dishes and relit her fire (which had perished without her attention during the man-dragging operation), when she heard a knock at her door, prompting her to groan in frustration. This was too many visitors in one day and she made a note to herself to contemplate the logistics of putting up a bunch of signs around the area warning about a witch or an ogre or something more frightening like a rifle.

She fixed her face with an annoyed expression (which took very little schooling at this point in her day) and opened her door to a slender pale man dressed in black, with a brimmed black hat upon his head. His beetle black eyes peered down at her from deep set sockets and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

“Where is he?” he said, the words coming out in a silky whisper that reminded her of slithery things in dark places.

“‘H..he?’ she replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze, “‘He’ who? What’s the name of the person you’re looking for?”

The man in black smiled and she wished he hadn’t.

“You do not want to toy with me, Lynn Cartwright,” he said. “Where is he?”

“He’s right here,” came a warm voice with an odd, lilting brogue behind her and she spun around to find her guest awake and standing behind her, looking steadily at the man on her porch. “What need do you have of me, Skullcap?”

“Leaf,” Skullcap replied, drawing out the name in an oily smear. “Good to see you. How long has it been now?”

“Not long enough.”

Skullcap’s grin stretched wider. “I’ve come to collect, Leaf.”

Lynn looked back to Leaf, as his eyes narrowed. “That contract is no longer valid and our business is done.”

“The contract was activated again, mere hours ago.”

Now Leaf looked confused. He thought for a second and then snapped his attention to Lynn. “Please tell me you didn’t dig through my personal things.”

“Uh...well...sure, it sounds bad when you put it that way...”

Leaf groaned into his hand. “Skullcap, clearly this is just some sort of misunderstanding. I’ll work this out with the lady here.”

“Leaf, Leaf,” said the man in black. “There are rules and they have been invoked. I don’t make them. Misunderstanding or not, we have business, you and I. Have your conversation, but we will have our own talk, beneath the midnight moon in the Speaking Space.” So saying, he turned around and walked silently toward the woods and the long shadows of the growing dusk.

The two watched silently until Skullcap was no longer visible and then Leaf turned to Lynn. “Why would you go through a stranger’s things?” he demanded.

“Why would a stranger be on my land?” Lynn countered. “I needed to know who you were.”

“Your land?! I’ve been around here for...a very long time. Long before this house was even here.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that this is my property! Also doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t told me who you are.”

Leaf scoffed. “You people and your property. As if you could own the earth. It’s not a trinket or bauble that you put in your closet. It lives and it breathes and when you die, it’ll still be here. As for who I am,” he continued, cutting off Lynn’s confused retort with a raised hand. “I’m Etraen Greenleaf, Leaf for short. I’ve…managed the forest around here since long before you were born. I’ve known all of the tenants of this house, some well and some in passing.”

That statement finally penetrated Lynn’s wall of exasperation and something occurred to her then. “I was told this house was over 100 years old.”

“Indeed. I remember when it was built. Lovely man, he grew-“

“It’s not possible,” she interrupted, her frustration and skepticism obvious on her face.

“How do you know? You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Not…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a deep sigh. “You’re impossible. Both in how much you’re irritating me and in somehow being alive over a hundred years ago. You look just a bit too good for your age, if that’s the case.”

“That would depend on what I am.”

Lynn had picked up a watering can and was dousing her flowers; she stilled. “And…what are you then?”

“A forest spirit. And I’m old even by that reckoning.”

She looked at the man then that had been staying in her house, really looked at him. Clearly, he wasn’t mentally well. Was he dangerous? “Look…I don’t-“

“You let the rose bush die.” Leaf pointed at it, incredulous. “That bush was almost as old as the house!” He walked over to it and examined one of the brown leaves.

“It…was already in bad shape when I got here. I’ve tried watering it, fertilizing it, but…” she shrugged and edged surreptitiously toward the front door.

“Hm. Well, it would seem it’s not totally lost. Yet. Let’s see.” He raised his hand and the bush quickly shifted from dying to verdant, its leaves turning a lush dark green with full dark pink roses sprouting out. It was the most beautiful rose bush that Lynn had ever seen, almost alien in its vigor.

She froze and swallowed.

She needed a moment to process this. With what she just saw, either he was what he said he was or she was just as crazy as him.

Finally, “So…a forest spirit?”

Leaf smiled. “Aye. Now. We have Skullcap to deal with.”

“‘We?’ What do you mean ‘we?’” Lynn looked out to the forest where the man in black had gone. “And who is he exactly?” She turned back to Leaf to see him surprisingly grim faced.

“He is a very old acquaintance of mine.”

“And he’s not good?”

“He’s not good or bad. He simply is. He and I are more similar than you might think.” He turned his eyes to the setting sun. “Well. You don’t have to come tonight, but it would very much be in your best interest. If you are coming, you should probably eat something.”

“Are you going to eat?”

“I have a bit of food for myself in my bag. Unless you ate that too.”

“I’ll never hear the end of that, will I?”

Leaf grinned at that. “Never ever,” he said.

Rolling her eyes, she went into the kitchen and came out with a sandwich a few minutes later. There were a million reasons, she knew, that she shouldn’t go with a strange magical man to meet a stranger magical man in the forest at midnight. She placated herself by listing them off in her mind.

And yet, she still knew that she would go anyway.

There was magic here, real magic like she’d read about in countless books and she knew that she would regret not accompanying her guest; something in her blood called for her to go.

After a couple of bites from her sandwich, Lynn had to ask: “Will I be safe? If I…go with you tonight?”

Leaf regarded her for a moment. “You will be as safe as it is within my power for you to be.” He paused. “But nothing is ever truly safe. Especially when something is worth doing.”

She considered this, chewing slowly, and finally nodded. He wasn’t wrong.

They stepped out of the house and then from out of the cover of the porch into bright moonlight, a greyish-blue hue draped upon the world. Leaf paused.

“This’ll be a bit of a walk. Follow me and make sure not to wander off.”

“Why, what’ll happen? I’ll disappear, never to be heard from again?” Lynn’s tone was light and teasing, but Leaf’s reply had none of the same playfulness.

“Very possibly.”

They walked in silence for a while after that, Leaf in the lead, and Lynn wondered at the path as it slowly became more and more foreign. She had spent countless hours in the woods surrounding the house, but she didn’t remember any of them looking or feeling as dense, dark, or wild as this. The forest and even the darkness began to have a sentient feel, an enormous amalgamated titan, very aware of the small creatures traveling through its veins.

She finally broke the silence. “Where are we? I’ve never been to this part of the forest.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You wouldn’t have. Once upon a time, the whole forest was like this, but the ancient magic has retreated and consolidated. It’s still a much larger area than you would guess, but humans aren’t generally given leave to enter. Too much distrust there.”

“Distrust?”

“You’ve had dealings with your fellow humans. Would you trust most of them with your safety?”

“…no. Why am I here then?”

“Well, this situation is unique and some of the fault lies with me for being a clumsy fool.” He turned to look at her. “And some lies with you for not keeping your hands to yourself. But beyond that, I have a good feeling about you…and I’m very rarely wrong.”

“And you’re so humble too. Does that mean you trust me?”

“Hm. We’ll see. Speaking of trust…it would be in both of our best interests for me to handle most of the conversation with Skullcap. There are rules and laws in play that you are not familiar with. Remember that if I wasn’t interested in keeping you from harm, I wouldn’t be taking this meeting. I’d simply let you die.”

“That seems a bit extreme.”

“You’re human. It wouldn’t exactly be frowned upon.”

The trees suddenly parted in front of them, revealing a freestanding stone archway, flanked by two rose bushes. As they approached, Leaf said, “As a fair warning, this will sting a bit.” He was correct: despite purposely giving the bush to her left a wide birth, it somehow reached out, and Lynn felt the prick of a thorn in her forearm.

“Ow!”

“Well, I did warn you. This is an ancient place and it has rules from the Old Law. It’s not possible to enter the Speaking Space without a blood offering.” He held up his own hand, which was also bleeding. “Lots of blood use, in the Old Law.”

“Yeah, well, a more descriptive warning would have been nice,” Lynn grumbled.

They continued through the doorway and Lynn gasped, forgetting entirely about the thorn prick. Leaf had mentioned that the place was ancient, but she hadn’t expected how strongly its age would feel. The air was thick and alive and the stars overhead shone in a way that was unencumbered by human influence.

The clearing was circular and squared-off stone pillars marked with worn symbols ran along its inside edge; the pillars were as tall as the trees and at least three times as wide as a person, covered with moss and lichen and blackened with the passage of time. From each pillar, a line of large flat flagstones ran along the ground towards the center of the clearing and a circular stone platform, topped with a stone seat, facing them. And in the seat sat Skullcap, watching them with silent interest.

“Punctual as always, Skullcap,” Leaf said, beginning a leisurely walk towards the platform. At his subtle beckoning, Lynn followed.

“Death balances on ticks of seconds and grains of sand, Leaf. Punctuality is intrinsic.” His smooth voice flowed through the clearing like the shadows of the trees. He turned his gaze on Lynn. “I see you have come, Lynn Cartwright.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, about that. How do you-“

“I know all of the names listed on the Index of Silence.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lynn saw Leaf tense.

“Index of...” she began.

“Of Silence, yes. The Scroll of the Dead.” Skullcap bridged his fingers and settled the weight of his chin in their support. Deep in the shadows of his gaze, his eyes shone. “The list of those soon to begin their journey to the other side.”

After a moment of shock, Lynn managed to whisper, “I...I’m going to die?”

“Of course. An eventual fate of every human and every other type of mortal being. But to clarify your question, yes, you will die here, tonight, as the old magic requires.”

Again, Lynn found herself speechless for a moment, before replying, “Well...fuck that.”

Leaf cleared his throat beside her and she startled, so caught up in her exchange that she’d mostly forgotten that he was there.

“About that, Skullcap.” He stepped in front of Lynn and his strong leanness was a comforting contrast to the lankiness she’d perceived when he had been draped across her wheelbarrow. “This was clearly a mistake and there are plenty of exceptions in the Old Law for -“

“Exceptions for mistakes made by one of the Enduring. She has placed herself on the Index, Leaf. There can be no exception. The Law is the Law.”

“Well. There can be one exception.”

Skullcap narrowed his eyes. “That does not apply. She is not -“

“Lynn Cartwright, by the light of the moon and the witness of the trees, I hereby appoint you as an envoy to myself, Etraen Greenleaf, Shepherd of the Growth and Lord of the Coming Spring.”

There was a sudden flare of heat where the thorn had pierced her, a not-quite-uncomfortable feeling that flowed up her arm and through her body; Lynn closed her eyes until the feeling passed and when she opened them again, she was startled to see a good deal more: flower blooms glowed purple and cerulean throughout the clearing, eyes of every imaginable shape and size gazed at her from the trees and the surrounding underbrush, and the stars shown more luminous than she had ever seen.

On the stone seat, Skullcap trembled in barely concealed rage. “You arrogant ember of a dying fire. The Old Law is not to be made a mockery of! You threaten the balance of everything!”

Leaf’s calm, amiable composure did not change. “I mock nothing. I have broken no laws. I’m sure she’ll make a marvelous envoy.”

“A human has never -“

“There’s a first time for everything, old friend. But I believe our business here is done.” He turned to Lynn. “May I take you home?”

“Please.”

And they left the clearing, through the same doorway they’d entered, Skullcap watching them in seething silence.

“Okay, wait wait.”

They had been walking for a short while when Lynn stopped in the darkness of the woods.

Leaf stopped as well. “I promise that we can sit and rest and talk all you want here in a moment. We’re almost to our destination. The dark forest at night is generally not the best place for a breather though, particularly the fae forest.” He gestured around them and Lynn noticed the multitude of eyes again, still there and still watching them. They set off again.

Gradually, an actual path began to make itself known to her eyes as they walked along. It started with one flagstone here, one there, until they began to multiply and, in time, coalesce into a paved walkway. A little further on than this, lit light posts began to dot their way and, at that point, Lynn felt that she needed to say something.

“Leaf?”

“Yes?”

“This does not look like the way to my house.”

“Er...well...no. We have one stop to make and then your house will absolutely be the next.”

“Leaf.”

“Yes?”

“I am less than enthused over the events of the evening.”

This was actually putting it mildly. Having replayed the night’s happenings over and over in her mind during their walk, she was angry with herself for haphazardly joining this journey, angry at Skullcap for making it apparently necessary, and angry with Leaf for pulling her along.

The walkway came to a small circular garden area. In the center was a raised stone dais, upon which sat a large brazier casting a warm bright light upon the clearing with its flame. Surrounding the dais, planted in thick black earth, were all manner of flowering verdure, growing in organized chaos with the tallest plants closest to the dais giving way to gradually shorter foliage until receding to dark ivy ground-cover close to the walkway. Around the garden circled the walkway itself with two paths forking off of it: the archway through which Leaf and Lynn entered and, precisely mirrored on the opposite side of the garden, another archway, flanked by two rough-hewn white stone statues of men.

The forest encroached along the entire perimeter of the clearing and the closest trees’ roots came right up to the edge of the paved walkway. These trees were peculiar: as white as alabaster, gnarled and thick, but most odd of all, each tree had a large face on their trunk.

And they moved.

As Leaf and Lynn entered, the eyes in the tree-faces followed them and the faces themselves contorted with curiosity. The branches above creaked and rustled as though a wind had picked up, but there was no wind. Lynn’s eyes widened at the scene and Leaf must have noticed.

“They’re guardians. This is the entrance to my personal realm.”

A realm? Who has a realm? Who the hell even says realm? “And if the trees don’t like who comes through?”

The man smiled mischievously. “Depends on who it is and how much the trees don’t like them.”

Lynn rolled her eyes and they passed between the two white statues and into the second archway. Something happened from one step to the next, though she could not have explained what or even given an exact moment in time where things changed; one moment they were beneath a somewhat typical canopy of leaves and then they were in a ghostly cathedral, surrounded by white on all sides and a ghostly glow permeating the air.

It was with a second look that Lynn realized that the columns leading up to the distant ceiling were yet more trees, enormous, leading up to a canopy so dense and uninterrupted that the impression of the overall space was a massive cavernous temple. In front of them, the space extended for several hundred paces before reaching a long mahogany table running widthwise. Looking to either side, the columns extended into the misty distance, with no walls in sight. The floor of the entire place was a broad, uneven jigsaw of flagstones bleached a stark shade of alabaster. It was bisected by a slow, shallow stream that cut through the room running parallel to the table. Beyond the table, the floor and the cavern simply ended into open space and the wilderness below, and through her flabberghast, Lynn felt her stomach twist at what the view from the edge must be.

Leaf gently cleared his throat and when Lynn turned to look at him, she was surprised to see embarrassment lightly etched upon his face. “Well,” he said. “This is the great hall. It’s…erm…a bit big. I suppose in a great sort of way. Once upon a time it was host to massive revelries, but it doesn’t get a lot of use these days.”

“It’s very beautiful.” She thought for a moment. “Though…”

“Yes?”

“Well…there does seem to be a bit of wasted space. Perhaps you could add a bowling alley. Or a swimming pool.” She took another long look at the place. “Or a roller coaster.”

He snorted and drily replied, “I’ll keep that in mind for consideration.” He gestured forward. “Hungry?”

Lynn started, as the once bare and empty table was now full of fare of all kinds, and she discovered that she was famished. The smells were making her mouth water. “Yes, actually, thanks.” She hesitated, a glance at the precipice once more leaving her a bit breathless.

Leaf seemed to notice. “We can eat somewhere more comfortable, if you like.” At her nodding, he said, “Alright. Close your eyes.”

She took a last look around the room and closed them. He gently touched her shoulder, and as soon as he did, there was a sudden change in the air, from open, chilly, and slightly damp to warm, thick, and comfortable. She opened her eyes in surprise and found herself in a dim room much smaller than the one previous. The walls were adorned with a comfortable clutter of knick-knacks, a fire crackled in the large fireplace set in one wall, and the same table sat centered in it all, the same food atop it.

They sat on the benches on either side, facing each other, and began to eat in silence.

After several minutes, Lynn broke it. “You said to trust you. To let you do all of the talking.”

Leaf paused in his eating. “I did.”

“You signed me up as your servant. Without asking. Was that the plan all along? Some free labor?”

He put his food down and looked into her eyes, sincerity stretched across his features. “I can see why you’d think that. I’m sorry that it came to that and I’m sorry that it happened so suddenly. Once I saw how determined Skullcap was, it was the only solution that I could think of that didn’t end in your death.” He paused. “What I can promise is that I will only ask for your assistance on occasion and I’ll interrupt your life as little as possible. And I’ll try to think of ways that I might be able to offer payment. For starters…how about giving you a bit of a magical hand with the garden? Everything you grow being healthy and bountiful?”

Lynn was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Fine. You can start with that.” She raised a grape to her mouth then stopped. “Wait, do you think I need help with my garden?”

“If I did, the rose bush would agree with me.”

“That is an unfair attack and I am offended.”

Leaf chuckled. “Let me know when you’re finished. As it happens, I have an errand to handle this very morning.”

“Leaf. No. You said one more stop!”

He held up a hand in surrender and pulled the rolled documents out of his satchel with the other. “You’re right, I did. This particular errand doesn’t actually have us going anywhere. A simple delivery, right here in my realm, and then I take you right home. Promise.”

She held his gaze. “Right. Home.”

“Indeed.”

She picked up her plate and started piling some of the food on it. “And I’m taking some of this for lunch later. Maybe dinner too.” She startled as the plate in her hand and the food on the table disappeared and she turned indignantly towards the spirit. “Hey!”

For the first time, he was showing the barest signs of impatience, as he said, “I went ahead and sent it all on to your house. It’s sitting comfortably on your own table. Whatever you don’t eat will just disappear by the next day. Now, on to our delivery.” He turned to a dark mahogany door in the wall that Lynn swore hadn’t been there a moment ago and placed his hand on the handle with a smile. “Ready?”

With a grumble and a shrug, she acquiesced and walked through the door as he held it open for her and into a narrow, stone-floored, well-lit hallway. Pulling the door closed behind himself, Leaf set off briskly down the hall, Lynn in his wake.

“In a bit of a rush?” she huffed.

He ignored the question with an odd knowing grin and instead said, “I noticed you had several shelves of books in your room. A bit of a reader?”

“Yes. Do…do uh your…type read as well?”

He laughed. “You can call us the fae, collectively. And yes. In fact, if I’m being truly honest, we’re rather responsible for many of the stories you’d be familiar with. Inspired some, spoke directly to the writers for others. Those were different times of course, when relations were friendly, but regardless, yes,” he stopped at a set of double-doors on the right, “I think you’ll find we can be a bit bookish.”

He opened the doors and Lynn’s jaw dropped. The round room beyond was massive, with a deep balcony wrapping around the second floor, the wide set of stairs for which was directly ahead. From floor to ceiling climbed more shelves than Lynn had ever seen and stocked on the shelves were an innumerable amount of books. Peppered about the shelves between the books and on the tables scattered throughout the room there were scrolls and stacks of paper, odd artifacts, various sized jars, and lanterns and lamps that glowed rather than burned. Through the glass dome above, she could see the first vestiges of dawn lightening the sky, the stars still visible.

“I take it you’re impressed?” Leaf had joined her and stood pleased with himself, his hands behind his back.

“I’m…without words.”

“An accomplishment! Fortunately, there are plenty of words already here. Feel free to peruse and borrow as you will.”

“Thank you! I don’t know what to say. But…do you have any in English?”
He grinned and gestured around at the room. “This…is a magic library. The book will be in whatever language you read. Which is a treat, I’ll tell you, considering many of these come from countries or worlds with their own stories. There are books and pages here that you wouldn’t be able to find elsewhere. That don’t exist elsewhere. Please. Enjoy. Meanwhile, I have business with the librarian.”

Lynn noticed then that sat next to the left side of the stairs was a large round reception area with a counter-height desk that wrapped around it. Piled on the surface of this were books, scrolls, quills, and ink wells and in the middle of it all, stood a shorter buxom fae lady with cherubic features. She had a look of vague curiosity on her face and it was clear that she had been waiting patiently for the visitor to come to terms with the magnitude of her space. Leaf made his way over to her while Lynn floated dreamlike to the wall and took down a book at random with a robin’s egg blue binding. She opened it and found that it was in English, just as Leaf had said, titled The Beginnings and Ends of the Sister Rivers.

A moment later, Leaf rejoined her. “Lynn, allow me to introduce you to Magnolia, my librarian.” The librarian trailed behind him, holding what appeared to be one of the rolled documents he’d had in his satchel.

Magnolia stepped forward, bearing the same curious expression, inspecting Lynn from head to toe. “A human? In our realm?” To Lynn, it seemed as though this statement was made in the same tone that one might say Oh dear, the dog has shat on my favorite chair.

Leaf seemed to hear it too, as the light in his smile faded a bit. “Yes. And she is a welcome guest.” He looked at the librarian meaningfully. “She’ll be working with us for some time.”

Magnolia did little to temper her skepticism. “As you will, m’lord.” She held up the document. “I’ll go ahead and take a look at this list and get back with you.” She glanced at Lynn and said tonelessly. “Fair travels.” Then she turned and walked back toward her desk.

Leaf sighed with obvious annoyance, watching the librarian walk away. “I’m sorry. The fae have a…complicated history with humans. Particularly we of the forest spirit ilk. It’s not an easy thing to overcome.”

“You seem to have managed.”

“Eh, I leave the realm with some frequency. That comes with its share of mingling with other folk I wouldn’t normally see here. Including humans. Plus, the people that have lived in that house of yours always seem to end up good people. Mayhap it’s enchanted. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Lynn didn’t deign to answer the question, preferring not to think of a house that magically changed its tenants personalities. Instead, she held up her book and said, “May I borrow this?”

“Of course! And as promised, it’s time to head you home. Ready?”

“I am, but…didn’t you have two messages to deliver?”

He laughed. “Nosy little thing…yes, but a promise is a promise and this is an errand I best do alone.”

With a wave to Magnolia (who did not glance up from the sheaf of papers she was ruffling through), Leaf led Lynn back through the doors and down the hall. They came to a grey door and he pulled it open. Instantly, the hallway was filled with a thick roar that sounded remarkably like…

A waterfall. Lynn blinked at the unlikely scene over the door’s threshold of the shallow cavern and the waterfall pounding just beyond, the dawn’s light filtering through. She followed as the fae man stepped through the doorway and, after they were both in the cavern, he closed the door behind them. Instantly the texture and color of the door shifted and it blended with the rock. Lynn could still make it out, barely, but only because she knew it was there.

Through a natural arch way in the wall of the cavern, the two briefly made their way through tight tunnels with several twists and turns, out into a small wooded alcove and then down a pebble-strewn path to the lake in front of the falls, where Lynn was surprised to discover her sitting rock. She glanced at the stone where Leaf had slipped the previous day and smirked. “Hey, while we’re here, aren’t the fae supposed to be graceful?”

He groaned, continuing forward with a glance back at her. “Yes. And I usually am, when not being startled by noisy things.”

“Uh-huh. So are most of the errands going to be this simple? Just deliveries like the one to Marigold?”

“Magnolia. And with luck, yes.”

Lynn didn’t question him further, but as they walked back along the comfortable path that she was so familiar with, she couldn’t help wondering what the errands would look like without luck.

The house was soon before them and Leaf cleared his throat. “Erm, do you mind if I grab my fishing rod. I forgot it when we set out earlier.”
“Clumsy and forgetful? You really just want to strip all the magic away, don’t you?”

They laughed together and Lynn opened the door, grabbed the fishing rod in question, and gave it to him. With an exaggerated bow, he said, “Until next time, madam.”

“And when will next time be? Tomorrow, next week?”

“Hm. We’ll see. Time moves a wee bit different for us fae and it may be a bit longer than you expect.”

As it turned out, it was much longer even than that.