Eletha had spent some time deliberating how best to steer the woman and her boy to her heart tree, but the solution she came up with at the last moment was resoundingly simple. She skipped along pebbles that lined the undergrowth until she got ahead, then stopped beside a pine tree directly in their path.

“Do you need a hand?” she asked the woman carrying the body.

Apparently, though, she should have spoken more graciously, as both the woman and the little boy shuddered and gaped at her.

Eletha remained motionless for a few moments, allowing them time to compose themselves. Then she motioned towards the dead girl.

“You are exhausted, human. I can carry the body for you.”

“That’s … Hi. That’s a very kind offer,” said the woman. “But please, allow me. She’s my daughter.”

Eletha thought for a moment, then nodded and stood aside to let them pass, trying to keep her expression neutral. “As you wish,” she said. “But know that midday has come and gone, and the day of accord ends at sundown.”

“We will hurry,” the woman replied. Her voice shook slightly. “We’ve just got to find the right spot, and we’ll leave as soon as we can. We don’t want any trouble.”

Eletha smiled widely, but then she noticed their feet, which were firmly planted on bent and slowly breaking little saplings on the forest floor. She quickly became all too aware of her bow, which was slung over her shoulder. Her fingers again began to itch for the feel of an arrow.

“There will be no trouble,” she said, swiftly moving her hands away from the arrows strapped with vines to her thighs. “I know the forest well. I can lead you to one of the prettier trees if you like. It’s an oak, not far from the path you took to reach the grove. You may lay the body there and be back on your way home before the sun turns red. Sooner, if you let me carry it.”

“Then ... please, lead the way,” the human woman said.

Eletha curtly nodded and turned away before they could see her smile.

“Oh,” she said then, turning back around. “By the way. I’m Eletha.”

The woman looked stunned for a moment, then found her words again. “I’m Jennah,” she said. “This is my son Luvelye … and Pella.”

“Hi, Luvelye,” Eletha said, eyeing the boy. He seemed to be frightened of her, just as his mother was. Wise. “Please follow me. If you’d be so kind, try not to trample too many of my younger relatives.”

I would so hate to return the favor, she thought.

“Please, Luvelye,” the woman said to her boy, holding his shoulder, “do as the kind dryad says.”

He nodded without saying a word, and the three of them slowly made their way to Eletha’s heart tree.

“How do you like this spot?” she asked when they had arrived at her heart tree. In line with the accord, humans had the final say over where they lay their dead to rest, although the dryads could move the bodies after they left. Still, Eletha had to ensure that they left it in her territory, not that of one of her sisters.

The woman, breathing heavily and smelling of sweat, stopped just behind Eletha and looked upon her heart tree.

It was a smaller oak than most of the others surrounding it, especially May’s, and the bark was flecked with white and covered with moss. Despite that, though, Eletha took great pride in her heart tree. Every evening, she carefully arranged everything so that the tree could gather as many nutrients as possible from the earth and the sun, focusing far more than most other dryads on the spread of the branches, the health of the leaves, and the organization of the roots underground.

The woman and her son, however, wouldn’t appreciate any of it. The woman simply looked at it for a while, exhausted, and held the hand of the boy behind her.

“Just … here?” she asked. “Just by this tree?”

“Yes,” Eletha said.

The woman gulped. “But … I thought there would be a hole, or … I don’t know.”

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“Mom,” the boy said quietly, tugging at her arm. “How do we bury her? People will get sick.”

“Your concerns are irrelevant,” Eletha replied, sighing. “Don’t fret. Just lay it by the tree, and your part will be done. I’ll put it in the ground later.”

The woman appeared crestfallen but obeyed without saying another word. She gently laid down the dead girl directly in front of Eletha’s heart tree.

Eletha suppressed another smile, then stepped alongside her and the corpse and placed a hand on one of the lower branches of the tree. As soon as she did, the wind blew, rustling the leaves overhead.

“The small one has been dealt with,” she said.

“Good work, Eletha,” replied a whisper of the Oakmother’s voice. “The humans with the cart have also already left. Sisters, once the dead have been taken care of, make sure to escort the living out of our forest, and come back to the grove.”

Eletha slipped another thread of magic into her tree, acknowledging the message, then turned back to the woman and boy. “You should leave now,” she said. “I will show you the way.”

She’d already started past them when she was interrupted.

“Wait! Can’t we … Can we please have a moment to say goodbye?” asked the woman.

Eletha grimaced, then looked toward the leaves blocking out the sky. Sundown was still a way in the future … and the corpse wouldn’t truly be hers until the humans left. Solely to appease them and ensure they wouldn’t decide to move it, she smiled understandingly and nodded.

“I’ll leave you to your moment, then,” she said, scanning the ground and finding the line of pebbles that led away from them. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

At that point, the woman had the makings of tears in her eyes. She mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’, then grasped more tightly the hand of her living boy and knelt down on the ground before Eletha’s heart tree and the dead girl.

The young boy, Luvelye, stared at Eletha for a few more moments than his mother did, then stepped up to the tree, trampling a dozen fallen leaves. Once his back was turned, Eletha glanced at the nearest pebble and nimbly hopped into the air, landing on it with one foot. It was easy to reach to the next pebble from that one, and then to create a measure of distance between herself and the two disgusting meat-men.

Nelippe skipped over to her soon enough, having kept a safe distance between herself and the two meat-men while Eletha had graciously catered to them.

“Are you still willing to share?” she asked.

Eletha couldn't help but roll her eyes at the younger dryad.

“Those are the first words you say to me?” she asked. Still, after a moment's consideration, she found herself nodding in agreement. “Sure, why not? But I did all the work, so I’ll be taking more than half.”

“That sounds fair. Mind if I take the head?”

Eletha narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Does the head include the entire neck?”

Nelippe chuckled. “Only half if you’re going to be stingy about it. Come on, I’ll owe you one next time, sister.”

“If I remember correctly, sister, you already do. Still … I’ll humor you. I’m nothing if not kind.”

“See? That’s why you’re the Oakmother’s favorite, Eletha,” Nelippe said.

Eletha grimaced. “What? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Didn’t you know?”

“No ... Why would you even think that I would be?”

“Think that you would be what?” asked a new voice. Eletha turned and found her seed-sister May standing just behind her, grinning widely with newly grown vines and leaves tangling around her waist.

“Maylissena,” Nelippe said. “She doesn’t know that she’s the Oakmother’s favorite.”

“Oh, yes, you definitely are, Eletha. When there’s an issue to do with … anything except meat-men, really, there’s no doubt about it.”

“And when it is to do with them, it's you, Maylissena,” Nelippe said.

“Yup,” May replied.

“Why … would you say that?” Eletha asked.

May rolled her eyes. “How surprising can it be? You suck up to her at every turn, don’t you?”

“I do not,” Eletha said.

“You do so,” Nelippe replied.

“Remember that time when we fought over who had the healthiest heart tree?” May asked.

“Yes … But the Oakmother judged fairly. My heart tree is healthier than yours. Just look at the leaves.”

“Mine has more leaves, seed-sister! It’s twice the size of yours!”

Eletha shook her head, grimacing. “Size isn’t everything.”

“It’s a lot, though. Size got me to the sunlight while you, dear seed-sister, still wallow in the shade. Not to mention my roots run deeper.”

“But in all the wrong places!” Eletha exclaimed. “Come on, May, really? Nelippe, what do you think?”

“I think I know better than to get involved in this argument … although you’ve currently got some leverage over me, so I believe I’ll side with you.”

“Ha. Hear that, May?”

May shook her head, chuckling. “Fine,” she said. “You win, Eletha, your heart tree is healthier. You’re still the Oakmother’s favorite, though. An adorable little suck-up.”

Eletha rolled her eyes. “My dear seed-sister, shouldn’t you go back to those meat-men you were so kindly leading around, all your skin exposed? I bet there are quite a few others who would love to help themselves to your big, fat prize. Maybe you should get back to sucking up to those meat-men.”

“My big, fat prize is already in the ground, feeding my heart tree,” May replied, grinning. “I didn’t even have to wait for those miserable old things to leave … But perhaps you should go to your little prize, Eletha. Congratulations, by the way! You finally snagged one. Small, but still something. You’ve got a meat-man … Now, push it into the mud and wrap your roots around it.”

“I can’t yet,” Eletha said, nodding toward Nelippe. “We’re splitting.”

May grimaced. “You little minx, Nelippe. I’m pretty sure I already saw you haggle yourself a portion of Tefera’s.”

The young dryad shrugged. “Diplomacy works for me. A bargain struck must be honored, and I don’t even have to talk to the filthy things. You girls go on ahead and do that for me – I’m very grateful, of course.”

“Dishonest little worm,” Eletha said. “You really are getting only half the neck.”

The three of them laughed.