Lilly thanked Mabel, climbed into her truck, and started the drive toward the east. The gravel crunched under the weight of her wheels as she followed the winding main road that skirted the border of the woodland. Tall, majestic pines stood sentinel on either side of the road, their towering canopies creating dancing shadows in the wind. The air was perfumed with the scent of damp earth and verdant foliage, a gentle reminder of the vast wilderness of the Briarhaven wilds that sprawled out just beyond the town of Thornwood.
As Mabel had instructed, Lilly kept her eyes peeled for a distinctive willow tree, with its bark peeling off in sizeable patches. Eventually, she spotted the towering figure near a small, wandering stream, its gnarled branches swaying gently in the afternoon breeze. It was an odd sight amidst the sea of pines, standing alone like an ancient, solemn sentinel guarding the pathway into the wilderness.
Turning onto the narrow trail that snaked away from the main road, she found herself heading deeper into the forest. The trail was unpaved, a mere scar on the face of the forest. It was here that the wilderness began to assert itself. The undergrowth grew wilder; the trees were denser; and the sounds of civilization faded away, replaced by the symphony of the forest. Lilly was beginning to question if it would have been easier to just wander around in the forest until she found a plant that matched Tunni’s drawing.
After about fifteen minutes, Lilly noticed a break in the trees ahead. As she drove closer, a small, quaint cabin came into view, just as Mabel had described. It was nestled at the base of a hill, shrouded by a thick veil of trees. A plume of smoke was rising from its chimney, suggesting the inhabitant was home. Lilly pulled up, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. She was about to meet the reclusive herbalist, her best hope to find the elusive starclover.
With a sense of apprehension, Lilly approached the cabin, her boots crunching on the dried leaves that carpeted the forest floor. The cabin itself was made of weathered wood, with moss creeping up its sides and smoke curling up from the chimney into the canopy above. It was an image straight out of a fairy tale.
Lilly reached out to knock on the simple wooden door, her hand hovering in the air. Before her knuckles could connect, a sharp, croaky voice echoed through the stillness, "Go away."
Lilly whipped her head around, the words sending a jolt of surprise through her. There, by a window, stood an old woman, a portrait of time etched deeply into her face. Her hair was a wild tangle of white, her skin weathered and lined with years, eyes twinkling with an intensity that belied her frail frame. In her gnarled hands was a bow, an arrow nocked and pointed directly at Lilly. The tip gleamed menacingly in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.
Fear lodged in Lilly's throat. The air around her seemed to still as she met the old woman's stern gaze. It was clear that this hermit did not welcome visitors. Yet Lilly stood her ground. She knew that this may be her only chance to find the starclover and help the rainbow cria. This unexpected hurdle was not going to deter her. She straightened her posture and forced a smile, ready to plead her case.
Cautiously, Lilly lifted her hands, palms out, displaying them in a universal gesture of peace. "Please, ma'am. I don't mean any harm," she began, her voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She was mid-sentence, about to beg the old woman to lower her weapon, when an unexpected sensation caused her to jump.
A small, scampering creature dashed up her pant leg with a rustle of fabric, skittering onto her shoulder with surprising agility. It moved with an uncanny quickness that took Lilly completely by surprise. Involuntarily, she let out a small yelp and swerved to the side, unprepared for the sudden passenger.
An arrow cut through the air where she had been standing mere moments before, a dangerous whistle accompanying its flight. The arrowhead whizzed perilously close to her ear, embedding itself in a tree trunk behind her with a solid thud. Lilly froze, heart pounding, as the reality of the situation sunk in. The old woman had shot at her!
Shaking off her initial shock, Lilly thought quickly. She darted back, pressing her back against the weathered wooden door of the cottage, putting a barrier between the woman and herself. With her breath coming in short gasps, she turned her head slightly to get a better look at the creature that had now claimed her shoulder as its perch.
It was a small creature, no bigger than a common squirrel, with vibrant hues of orange and blue adorning its lithe body. Its tail was a spectacular sight, easily three times the length of its body; and it waved it around as if it were a banner. The creature chattered at her in a series of rapid, high-pitched squeaks and chirps, but Lilly was at a loss for what to do. She hadn't come prepared for magical woodland creatures joining her quest.
Finally, she called out to the woman still hidden in the cottage. Her voice trembled but remained strong, the urgency in her mission fueling her bravery. "Ma'am! I mean no harm! I'm just looking for some starclover to help a baby alpaca I rescued," she confessed. "If you promise not to shoot at me again, I'll head back to my car and leave right now."
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The silence following her words hung heavy; and she held her breath, hoping that her pleas would reach the old woman's ears.
Caught off guard by the sudden shift of the door beneath her, Lilly found herself unceremoniously falling backward into the dimly lit interior of the cottage. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunlight streaming through the small windows as she looked up to find the woman standing over her. The bow was gone, and the squirrel creature jumped from Lilly to the old woman, where it perched on her shoulder, chattered briefly, and wrapped itself in its tail until it was a fluffy ball within the woman's wiry gray hair.
The woman's frown deepened into a scowl as she looked down at Lilly. "Well, what are you doing sitting there?" she questioned, the roughness of her tone belied by the lack of malice in her eyes. "I opened the door, so you could get some starclover. I have some drying in my kitchen." She glanced away briefly, a slight blush coloring her wrinkled cheeks. "Sorry I shot at you. You just startled me, jumping around on my porch like that."
The words hung in the air as Lilly picked herself up off the floor, dusting off her pants. The woman only came up to her knee, short even for a gnome. Tunni was easily twice her size. There was something faintly familiar about this woman, but Lilly couldn’t place it. The fear of the past few minutes slowly receded, but Lilly looked around cautiously, unsure of the woman’s mental state.
The interior of the cottage was unlike anything Lilly had seen before. It was as if she had stepped into an ancient, living apothecary, a botanical wonderland of sorts. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from the handful of small, grubby windows and a single flickering candle resting on a gnarled wooden table. The walls were a rustic brown, made of roughly hewn logs, their knots and gnarls giving them an almost enchanted feel.
Every conceivable space was taken up by hanging bundles of herbs, their aroma permeating the air, creating an intoxicating blend of fragrances. Thyme, rosemary, lavender, and dozens of other plants and flowers she couldn't identify danced before her eyes, swaying gently in the draft created by the opening door. The low ceiling, blanketed by this plethora of hanging herbs, seemed alive with their vivid colors and textures, a beautiful chaos.
Everywhere Lilly looked, from the rafters to the corners, there were bunches of plants—some dried and shriveled, others still vibrant with life, their hues muted in the dim candlelight. The woman navigated this maze with ease, her short stature allowing her to pass under the hanging flora with ease. Lilly, however, found herself having to duck and dodge to avoid brushing against the herbs.
The floor was wooden, worn smooth by years of use and covered here and there with thick, hand-woven rugs of a myriad of colors, each looking faded and well-loved. To one side of the room, a rough-hewn stone fireplace held a simmering pot, the bubbling liquid within sending wafts of a sweet and spicy aroma into the room.
As she moved in further, Lilly could see a small kitchen area to her right, dominated by a large wooden table, its surface crowded with various glass jars containing powders, liquids, and more dried herbs. In the far corner, a wrought iron stove held a kettle, a soft whistle indicating it was ready for tea.
Despite the disarray, the space had a comforting, homey feel. It was clear the woman had spent many years living among these herbs, learning their secrets and lovingly caring for them. There was magic here—not just of the mystical sort, but the magic of a life lived close to nature, a life devoted to understanding the healing power of plants.
The small women patted the creature on her shoulder. “That’s a good girl, Sassafras. Let’s get this woman what she wants, so she can be on her way.” She pulled down a few handfuls of herbs from where they hung and bundled them together with some twine before extending them to Lilly.
Lilly carefully took the offered herbs, her fingers brushing against the cool, slightly wrinkled hand of the woman. She felt an inexplicable warmth spread through her as she accepted the starclover, a feeling of connection and goodwill.
"Thank you so much," Lilly repeated, relief evident in her tone. She looked down at the bundle in her hand, then back at the woman, a question in her eyes. "How much do you want for these? My name's Lilly, by the way."
The old woman scrutinized her for a moment, her gaze as sharp and probing as a hawk's. "Well, Lilly," she began, her voice gravelly yet not unkind. The corners of her lips turned up slightly in what could almost pass as a smile. "I'm not in the business of selling plants. The wilds gives freely, so it's not my place to take payment."
She gestured toward the bundle of herbs in Lilly's hand. "Think of planting a new batch as your gift back to the wilds."
As she finished, she turned back toward her cluttered table, gently stroking the ball of fluff that was Sassafras. "I've had enough excitement for today. You can go now."
Her statement was terse but not harsh, and Lilly could tell the woman was simply used to her solitude. It was clear that her life was entwined with the rhythm of the wilds, the plants, and the small creature perched on her shoulder. Lilly felt gratitude for the encounter, promising herself to follow the woman's advice. After giving a final thanks, she carefully backed out of the fragrant cottage, holding the precious bundle close.
Driving back home, Lilly thought back on all that had just occurred. A little while later, she pulled into her driveway, frowning at the sight of a foreign car parked in front of her farmhouse. A man, out of place in his fancy suit and polished shoes, was poking around her property. The cria, she noted with relief, was safely tucked away in the barn and out of sight.
As she parked her truck, the man turned and approached her, walking with an air of superiority that irked her. His smile was too wide and didn’t reach his eyes, making her uneasy.
"Hello, my name is Ignatius Timber," he said, extending his hand to her. His voice was smooth, yet Lilly thought it seemed almost rehearsed, as though he was playing a role.
"I'm here to collect my rainbow cria," he announced, glancing past Lilly toward her barn.