Chapter 41

Cultivate your friends. Do not take them for granted. This means being willing to give of yourself at times, and not just taking. Do remember, though, a person who wants you to give and give and gives little to nothing in return may not really be a friend you can rely on when it’s your time for need. Or might not really be a friend at all, but merely an acquaintance, or someone walking down the same road for the time, with no true bonds. Once you learn to tell the difference, your life will improve. This is an important lesson. As we leave the longer nights behind at Spring Crossing, and celebrate the longer days that lead to Summer, let us examine our lives and work to make our friendships bloom like Spring.

Excerpt, Sermon at Spring Crossing, given in the Lifegiver’s Chapter House, Greenholt, White Island, by Immyrah Whitethorn, Chief Acolyte to the Lifegiver

In Goblin Market, at the Dragon Web station, two people were finishing up their morning shift in a freight container.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Umber Madrona said, looking around the carriage. Neatly stacked barrels and crates lined the walls, bundles and bags were piled towards the middle, and in the animal pen, three cows and two pigs were being cared for by an animal handler.

Umber nodded in satisfaction. All the merchandise being delivered to Goblin Market was accounted for and either already picked up or waiting to be delivered. The last bundle of goods set to go on to Meridae had been put on board.

Gob Hezney, the short, squat Spriggan man who worked with him sorting the freight, wiped his forehead with a colorful handkerchief. Like all Spriggans he had a huge head for the size of his body, and had a substantial amount of forehead to wipe. “Glad we’re done. It’s good to get a rest before the next shipment comes in. Turbot’s got a load of wool already waiting to go out. Stinky stuff, wool. And Allynswood’s sending a bunch of wheat out.” He leaned against the carriage wall, and stuffed his hankerchief back in his pants pocket. “We’ll be busy, even if Waterford doesn’t send anything.”

“A full day today,” Umber said, nodding to his co-worker, as he went through the stack of papers he had collected during the shift. “But we have a couple of hours to go before it comes in”

“And you have a lunch meeting, if you can keep from having Thornfield loading you down with extra.” The Spriggan smiled. “I wouldn’t want to miss that, if I were you.”

Umber’s spikes glowed a little. If he were a Daoine, he would be blushing. “Lucky for me, it’s his day off. All day long.”

The Spriggan clapped him on the back. “Well then, that’s a good thing. Don’t be late for your lady friend then. I’ll see you after lunch to clean up the mess of whatever those fools in Waterford send here. My missus will have dinner waiting for me, so I’m off!”

The Spriggan stepped out of the carriage, and Umber followed him. He gave a signal to the transport crew, and they secured the carriage for transport. Before he left the warehouse, weaving between crates of goods waiting pickup or their turn at shipping the vehicle was gone.

Umber stepped outside through the freight door. It was mostly quiet out there – a couple of wagons were waiting to pick up or deliver loads, and some of their drivers were resting in the shade, waiting for their turn to move forward in line. A few other people, mostly who worked in shipping and handling, were sitting outside during their break, eating lunch or just resting. One group was playing a card game. Only one of these people were Dragonkin. The shipping and handling was mostly handled by people like Spriggans and Bauchan, although there was one Knocker in the card game. He passed them by on the way to the front of the station. Two of the Spriggans waved as he went, and he waved back. Shipping and Handling had come to highly prefer him working freight over Thornfield, and it showed by how he was treated.

“Did you see all the wool bags, Master Umber?” the Knocker said, discarding a card to moans from his fellow players. “Where does Turbot get all that sheep fuzz?”

“In the hills, I guess.” Umber shrugged. “At least we don’t have to wash and spin it before shipping.”

That image brought a wave of snickers. “Imagine you trying to hold a distaff, Zoey?” said one of Bauchan workers. He mimicked a woman spinning. He spoke in a falsetto. “Just a few more minutes, Master Umber? I’m almost through this skein!”

The card players, including Zoey, cracked up laughing.

“There are worse things,” Umber said, nodding. He waved goodbye and headed for the front. He normally walked around the length of the building instead of through the complex because it was closer to his office that way, and he was less likely to be waylaid by Thornfield or other people to do this or that. And he missed the sunlight and fresh air after being cooped up in Shipping and Handling and cargo carriers all morning. It had become a pleasant habit.

And sometimes he got to see or even talk to interesting customers walking into the station. This day, he reached the front of the station as a fine carriage drove up. He recognized it as the one that belonged to Allynswood. He paused for a moment and watched as the groom dismounted and opened the door, and Lady Elaine’s sister Arriane stepped out of the vehicle.

“Thank you,” she said to the groom. “Could you get my bag to the check in counter for me?”

“Yes, my lady,” the groom said, and took the bag from the back of the carriage and headed inside.

Umber stepped up a few steps, and coughed into his hand. Arriane swerved around and saw him.

“Hello there!” she said, giving him a big smile. “I’m off on one of my trips again. And you’re still here.”

He bowed slightly. “I am, indeed, Lady Arriane. Going back to the White Isle?”

Arriane nodded. “My mother’s been asking for me to give her a visit. And now seemed like it’s a good time.”

“I hear your brother-in-law has come home for awhile, and you’re just leaving?” Umber asked.

“How...I know he didn’t come in at the station here.” Arriane looked at him, perplexed.

“He might not have come through the station, but his luggage did…” Umber shrugged. “When you spend all your time working with shipping and handling, you notice a few things.”

Her laugh ran clear. “Especially when the young man noticing is a talented young Investigator working through his first year.”

This time, Umber’s spikes definitely blushed. “I...uh, I just sort of notice things like that. It’s kind of automatic.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Yes, my sister hasn’t seen Gweir in months. I thought I’d give them some space, and my mother has been nagging me for a visit. It really did seem like a good time.” She gave him a careful look. “You seem to be doing better than the first time I saw you.”

Umber nodded. “I learned a few things that have made my time here a little better. And I’ve made a few friends. It helps.”

“It does indeed. I’ll see you in a week or two, or maybe my luggage will.” Waving, she walked through the doors.

“Lady Elaine must truly be distracted,” Umber said. “She sent her sister off without any sweets,” Umber noticed. “But she did have the smell of cookies about her. I wonder if she ate them all before she got here?”

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In the house at Pixie Hollow, Moxie looked at the platter of sugar cookies longingly. She flittered around it, making little, lazy circles.

“It’s too close to lunch time to eat any more cookies.” Mistress Gan took her big spoon and stirred the big soup pot on the fire.

“But…” Moxie said.

Dahlia, sitting on one of the rafters, giggled.

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“If you weren’t so cookie greedy,” Arne said, sitting on one of the kitchen counters, arms crossed, “Mistress Gan wouldn’t have had to use magic to protect them.” He also clearly wasn’t content with the current situation.

Pye, sitting on the ground beneath him, meowed in agreement.

“When the cat and Arne actually agree on something, you know it’s true, Moxie,” Gillie said, watching Gan at work.

“You have a point there,” Gan said. She put her big spoon back on the spoon rest. “The soup’s about done. When Rob comes in, we’ll eat lunch.” She moved over to the cabinet, and took out several saucers, two bowls and a couple of plates, and quickly set the table for two large people and the Pixies. Next she sliced up the bread, several large pieces and and a section that she broke up into many small crumbs.

The door opened. “Am I late?” Rob asked as he stood in the entryway. He stepped out of his muddy boots and left them near the door.

“Late enough,” Bu said, landing on his shoulder. “I’m really hungry.”

“Go wash up,” Gan directed. “You managed to get a little dirt on your cheek.”

“Did I?” Rob said, moving to the wash stand. Quickly he washed his hands and face. “Must have been when I chased that pesky goat out of the garden and back to the pasture.”

“Goats are sneaky. And their eyes are weird,” Arne said.

“Need to be sneaky when they’re dealing with someone trying to pull their beards,” Gan said.

“But I stopped doing that,” Arne said. “But they still try to flick me away when I fly by.”

“Then stop flying by them,” Moxie said, landing on the table. “Maybe if you stay away long enough, they’ll leave you alone.

“What’s the fun in that?” Arne said.

Gan rolled her eyes, and began dipping up soup. She put a bowl in front of Rob. “So, how is Betts settling down?”

“Ah, she loves the new pasture. Blowie seems to have taken to her. Not so sure about Cin.”

“Ah, Cin’s a bit shy,” Gan said, handing the bread tray to Rob, who took a piece. “And if one Pixie wasn’t so determined to ride her all the time,” she said, looking at Hilby.

The little man looked up. “But she’s so pretty, and so warm. I just want to take a nap on her back.”

Cowslip gave him a shove.

“Why’d you do that for,” Hilby asked, surprised. In his surprised reaction, he dropped the crumb of bread he had picked up. Seamus made quick work of it.

“Oh, you’re so silly and so warm. I just wanted to shove you, that’s all,” Cowslip said.

“It’s not the same thing!” Hilby declaimed, and flew over to sit by the windowsill.

Rob tipped his head, thoughtfully, then picked up his soup spoons. “Sounds similar to me.” He dipped his spoon in the soup, and took a first bite. “Ah, so good.”

Cowslip stuck her tongue out at Hilby then went to get a bit of bread.

Soon, there were saucers of soup on the table for the pixies, and plenty of bread for everybody, and Gan herself finally got to sit down and take her first bite.

“Well I’ve started putting in the vegetable bed, but it’ll take me more than one day, I think,” Rob said.

“Why does it take so long?” Moxie asked, dipping a piece of bread into the soup. “You’re so big. I wouldn’t think it would take any time at all!”

“I wish! Growing things like a garden takes a lot to start with.”

“Is it worth it?” Seamus asked. “So much to eat that doesn’t take any work. Dandelions, henbit, wild mustard, pigweed. That’s what we would eat before Mistress Gan came by and it all grows wild. No work needed.”

“Well,” Rob started.

“Do you like the soup you’re eating?” Gan asked.

Seamus nodded.

“Well I can’t make that out of dandelion, henbit, pigweed and wild mustard. I probably could make something, but it wouldn’t taste the same. And I certainly can’t make bread that way.” She took another sip of her soup.

“No bread?” Moxie looked stricken. She lifted up and flew to Gan. “Bread’s even more important than sugar cookies!”

“Couldn’t make them without farming, either.” Gan shrugged.

“Takes a lot of muscle power to grow wheat for flour,” Rob said. “Plowing, harrowing, sowing, weeding, harvesting, threshing, grinding, sifting…”

“I’m convinced,” Seamus said. “Take all the time you need, Rob.”

“You better be,” Gilly, who had come to sit next to him, said nodding vigourously. “You can keep your nasty pigweed. I’ll take bread any day!” She helped herself to another crumb.

“But what -” Whatever Gan was going to say was interrupted by a knock on the door. She put down her spoon with a sigh, and pushed her chair away from the table. “Well, let’s see who that is, shall we?”

Gan walked to the front door, Moxie landing on her shoulder as she went. “Maybe it’s Leila with some sugar cookies,” the pixie said. “I could compare hers with yours. Which one would I like better?”

“We’ll have to test that one day.” Gan chuckled, and opened the door.

Surprisingly, it was Leila. She, all smiles and golden hair, was standing there, but much to Moxie’s disappointment, she had no bag of cookies in her hand. Instead, she held a book in her hand. And she was not alone. Morvran flew into the room, to land on the table.

“What the -” Rob said, grabbing his bowl and pushing away from the table. “Shoo, bird!”

The Pixies rose up, yelling at the bird. Hilby and Seamus threw chunks of bread at the raven, which Morvran promptly ate.

“Nobody makes bread like Mistress Gan,” Morvran said.

“And he talks, too?” Rob snuck a spoonful out of his soup bowl, but continued to guard his lunch.

“Too much, too often,” Dahlia said, landing on the gardener’s shoulder. “He hangs out with Cullin in the woods. I think even the Tree Shepherd gets tire of his noise sometimes.

Morvran cawed, and bowed his head. “What does that old Tree Shepherd know? Smells good in here,” he said. “What’s for lunch?”

Arne fluttered next to him and looked him in the eye. “You’re too late,” he said in his best authoritarian voice. “We already started. We’re almost done.”

“Yeah,” Moxie said, joining him. “We had soup and bread and there’s cookies and pie.”

“Sounds good. Where’s mine?’ the raven asked. He walked across the table and pecked at another unclaimed crumb.

“Morvran!” said Leila, aghast at the behavior of the raven. “What are you doing?”

“Being rude, that’s what he’s doing,” said a soft male voice at the door. Cullin, the Tree Shepherd in his mossy cloak and broadbrimmed hat stood there, his arms crossed, staring at the bird.

Most of the Pixies dashed to the rafters. Rob’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the Tree Shepherd and he scooted even further back.

“Well, come in, you two,” Gan said. “Pixies, there’s plenty of food for both them and you, and I’ll not turn away anybody who comes at meal time.” She took out another saucer, dipped up some soup and adding a bit of bread, and put it on the table by Morvran. “Here you go, Master Raven. Enjoy.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Morvran said. He glared at Arne. “Some people are more gracious than Pixies, evidently!”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Leila said, giggling. “I was nice to him once, and he’s never let me forget it.”

“You know you love me,” Morvran muttered between bites.

“Have a seat, Leila. Would you like something? We just got started on our soup. Would you like some? Or there’s pie. And I could make some more tea.”

“I wasn’t coming over for lunch. I came over to share that book I was telling you about when you came over,” Leila said, taking a seat at the table. “It took a bit, but I found out where the Wood Wives had hid it. And these two decided to follow me over, don’t ask me why. But I think a cup of tea would be lovely,” she said. “And maybe a little piece of pie.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Gan said. “I’ve been wanting to read it for the longest.” She set up her teapot for a fresh pot, and poured the hot water that had been waiting over the fire over the leaves.”

Morvran took a bite of something in the soup. “Tea is overrated.”

“Well maybe for ravens,” Leila said. “But then, I think carrion is highly overrated myself. And tea and sweets are the best.”

“Yes!” Moxie said. “Do you have any?

“Alas, no, not this time,” Leila said. “Sometimes, I come around for things besides eating, Dahlia. There are other things as important.”

“More important than eating?” the little pixie asked, shocked.

“Well, maybe not more important, but just as,” Leila said.

“I’ll never understand big people,” Moxie said. And with that she went to pinch Arne, who was sneaking up on Morvran’s tail feathers.

“Now you, Master Cullin,” Gan said. “Come take a place.” She led him to a place across the table from Rob. “And Rob, scoot your chair back. Nobody at this table is going to eat your lunch but you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rob cautiously moved his chair back into position, but not willing to meet Cullin’s eyes. The Tree Shepherd noticed this, raised an eyebrow.

“Relax, young Rob Woodway. The Lady Sulis herself has put Mistress Gan under my protection, and you are under hers, so unless you mean her harm, you have nothing to fear from me unless you walk through my wood without permission.”

“Yes, sir.” Rob swallowed. “I’d never want to harm Mistress Gan. She’s been nothing but kind to me.” He sighed. “Making all my wishes come true.”

“A kind of catalyst for good change,” Leila said, looking at Cullin.

Cullin shrugged slightly.

Gan raised her eyebrow at the mention of Lady Sulis. She only knew of one Sulis, but then shook her head, and and dipped a bowl of soup for Cullin, and cut a slice of pie for Leila.

“Rob, have you met Leila before? She lives in Cullin’s forest,” Gan asked. “She and I love to read the same things. I hope she comes to visit often.”

The young man shook his head.

“I hope to as well,” Leila said, beaming.

“Rob’s here to be my gardener,” Gan said.

“And handyman,” the young man said. Slowly he brought a spoon of soup up to his mouth.

“He likes goats,” Arne said, shuddering. Moxie gave him a nudge, and then handed him a crumb of bread.

“You’re the son of Bart Woodway, right?” Leila asked. Her smile was disarming, and Rob found himself relaxing under her attention.

The young man nodded. “How’d you know?”

“We used to swap gardening stories. Does he still work for Lady Elaine in her private garden?”

“Not as much as he used to. His back’s been giving him too much trouble do be a full-time gardener any more.”

“Tell him Leila hopes he’s still doing well, and she misses his stories. Also, that the rosebush he helped me plant is still growing!”

“I’m sure he’ll like to hear that, ma’am.” Rob, far more relaxed, went back to his soup with some enthusiasm.

Gan poured tea, and then finally got to sit back down to her soup. “That reminds me,” she said between bites. “I have some ointment I want you to take back to your father. It might not cure his backache, but it might help with the pain.”

“Thank you ma’am,” the young man said.

Morvran finished the last of his soup, and began looking around the table. Seamus and Hilby stood up to protect their saucer of soup when he began to eye it.

“Morvran,” Cullin said. “Even a rude soul like you needs to remember to behave.”

Morvran cawed and ruffed his neck feathers. “What’s for dessert?” he asked.

“Pie,” Gan said, and looking over her flock of Pixies, gave a little smile. “And sugar cookies.”

Moxie flew up in the air, cheering.

“But not until after the soup is done.”

The raven cawed again. “Bah. Call me when it’s time,” Morvran said. And he flew out of the window.