It had taken a little persuading, but eventually even Ralph had agreed to hear her out. With Digger’s clothes still so wet and the light fading, they had opted to part ways.

Jess picked her way along the edge of the stream bed, following the directions that they had given to get her home safely out of the woods without a guide. There would be a path that should appear soon. Thereafter, she should follow the right path when she came to a fork beneath an oak tree.

She was glad of the moon above. It was not quite full but would hopefully cast enough light to make her way back to the city when she cleared the treeline. It seemed bizarre to Jess that she could make the journey without concern. There were no bandits on the main road. No ne’er-do-wells lurked in the shadows. The city streets were free of homeless people, though the occasional beggar ventured out in busy public avenues during the day. It sometimes felt as though the only threat to the city inhabitants were the beasts and magical beings that lived beyond the walls.

There was a growing feeling of eyes watching her as she continued to follow the stream. She tried to ignore it, but the hairs on the nape of her neck prickled, warning her. Time and time again, the ill feeling drew her thoughts back to the idea. It wouldn’t be difficult to track her.

She was so engrossed in trying to spy surreptitiously on her surroundings that she didn’t see the forked path until she was almost upon it.

“He said to go right,” a small voice said.

Jess span, taken by surprise by the sneaky stranger. With wide eyes, she scanned the area, but she still appeared to be alone.

“Show yourself!” she called out, puffing herself out like a bristling, angry cat. Running in the woods seemed like a terrible idea. The alternative could mean fighting, which would be an even worse idea. Or she could scream, as undignified as that would feel, relying on others to run to her aid as though she were some petite damsel.

There were no movements. No sounds of anything except the breeze that stirred the leaves in gentle movements around her and the gentle trickling of the water.

“I mean it,” Jess stressed, hoping that she looked a whole lot more confident than she felt.

The small voice filtered through once again, this time sounding higher pitched and confused. “I am.”

Great, thought Jess with annoyance. Not another weird curse thing. She cleared her throat before addressing the surrounding emptiness in a kinder tone. “Are you invisible?”

A small bush on the other side of the water stirred. Its branches moved slowly, turning this way and that as Jess stared on bewildered.

“I don’t think I am?”

The voice definitely came from the little moving plant. Jess bit her bottom lip, preventing herself from saying anything that might insult the sentient shrub. Is it a plant? Is it a dryad?

It didn’t look like a tree person. It didn’t look like any sort of person. Just a short, stubby growth of branches that were filled with small, diamond shaped green leaves. The whole plant looked as though it would only just reach above her knees. Hell, I’ve probably worn socks that were taller than this plant, Jess considered. It moved though… and apparently it could talk and, Jess presumed, it could see.

“I think I can see you,” Jess said. Then, after a moment of consideration, “Would it be ok if I came a little closer?”

There was no response from the leafy shrub.

Concern swept through Jess. Insulted the little guy already. Didn’t think a plant would be so thin skinned.

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“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she apologised.

“I’m not upset,” the small voice piped up. Jess wasn’t sure if she could see movement when it spoke now, or whether it was merely wishful thinking. Something to make the plant seem more humanlike when it spoke and less like she was having a mental breakdown in the woods.

“Alright,” said Jess. “I was just a little bit worried because you… you didn’t say anything. I’ve never spoken to a…” she fumbled, unsure of how to refer to the sentient shrub before settling on one of the few choices that seemed safe to use. “… to a plant.” At least, not one that speaks back.

Had there been crickets present, Jess would have heard crickets.

With a frown, Jess resisted the urge to massage her temple and settled instead on rubbing around the base of her neck. The heavy pressure of her fingers did little to soothe her brewing headache.

“You know… I can’t hear you unless you talk… don’t you?” Jess asked after her moment of hesitantation. The question felt demeaning, as though she were treating the plant like a complete idiot. In her experience, sometimes asking questions with the most obvious answers yielded the most interesting results.

“Are you still opening a school?” the little voice asked.

The abrupt question took Jess by surprise. “Yes. I am.”

“The school is open to anyone?”

“As long as they are old enough to attend and still a child,” Jess replied.

“What about Matilda?”

Jess frowned. “Who is Matilda?”

A loud duck quacked beside her. The sudden noise startled Jess enough that she leapt away from the creature, clutching at her chest. Jess looked from the dryad to the duck and back again. An icy dread began forming in her stomach. It was quite a feminine-looking duck with glossy white feathers and a bright orange bill and feet. A cute pompom of feathers rested on the top of the duck’s head. The duck didn’t move as its dark eyes watched Jess with interest.

“Matilda?” she asked the duck tentatively.

The duck quacked once more, ruffling its feathers and shaking its tail.

Was that a yes? Jess wasn’t sure. She didn’t know whether it would be considered rude to ask the dryad for confirmation. The duck didn’t appear to be a duckling of any sort, though Jess wasn’t able to tell how old the creature was. Maybe it was still a child by duck standards.

“Can she… talk?” Jess asked the dryad.

“Of course she can talk,” the dryad replied, rustling its leaves in indignation. “You just heard her.”

“Ok,” said Jess, her eyes flitting back to the duck. “Can she speak this language?”

“She’s a duck.”

“I can see that,” Jess said through gritted teeth. “That doesn’t answer my question, though.”

The dryad remained silent for a moment before seeming to ignore Jess’s worries. “Can Matilda join the school or not?”

Jess looked down at Matilda, the duck. It cocked its head to the side to view her better. Jess knew immediately that she would probably regret the question, but she asked the duck anyway.

“Matilda. Would you like to join the school?”

The chattering quacks that Matilda released, coupled with the way she waddled forward to rub herself against Jess’s muddy boots seemed to indicate that she did want to join. Jess breathed a sigh of relief that the little duck also seemed to understand her. She didn’t want to induce the ire of the dryads, but learning to speak duck was completely out of the question.

“I guess that answers my question then,” Jess said, lifting her skirt to her knees as Matilda continued to quack with excitement and circle around her legs. “Is Matilda the only one that wants to join the school?”

“I don’t know,” said the dryad, “didn’t anyone else ask to join?”

“I just thought…” Jess started, but then thought better. “You know what? Never mind.”

The dryad shuffled in place but said nothing.

“Is there anything else that you two need?” Jess asked.

Her question was met with more silence, aside from the chittering noises of Matilda.

“Right then,” Jess said, taking a wide step away from the friendly duck. “I’ll just be off then. Ok?”

When again there was no answer, Jess turned and began to walk away. She had expected something, anything, from the dryad in the form of a farewell, but she heard nothing. What she hadn’t expected was the Matilda the duck had continued to follow her. She didn’t look back, but she easily heard the pattering of tiny duck feet on the ground behind her. Jess hoped it was coincidence that she was being followed. After all, she was heading past the small lake where the slimes lived. She wondered whether Matilda lived near the waters there.

Matilda did not stop at the lake, much to Jess’s disappointment. She also didn’t stop at the top of the hill as Jess reached the pathway that led toward the city. Worse still, she continued to follow through the city centre and all the way to the front door of Mike’s shop.

She knocked on the locked door without peering down at the duck, hoping that Matilda would disappear to her own home now that she had seen Jess safely return to hers. Instead, she heard the tiny slaps of Matilda’s webbed feet come to rest by her feet.

When Mike opened the door, his face was a myriad of emotions. Shock quickly replaced annoyance when he laid eyes on Jess’s mud-spattered appearance. As he looked down at the extent of the mess on her clothing, he noticed Matilda and his expression turned to one of pure bafflement.

“Please, don’t ask,” Jess said in a tired voice. “It’s been a long day.”