Amanita Sporewell's Arc

Chapter 6 of 14

The blue-capped sprite rode home on Amanita's shoulder. She set it on the windowsill and looked out at her patch. The surviving seedlings stood in a tidy row, greener than yesterday. The magical sprout had put out a second leaf overnight. Her garden was alive. It was also small. Too small. A ring of loam no wider than a wagon wheel, hemmed in by the cottage wall on one side and a wall of thick ferns on the other. She had dreamed of the greatest mushroom garden the forest had ever seen. She was growing it in a soup bowl. "I need more ground," she told the sprite. It blinked at her. She walked the edge of the patch and pushed at the ferns. They gave, then sprang back. Beyond them the soil looked dark and rich, but the fronds grew shoulder to shoulder. Clearing them would take a week of digging, and the roots ran deep. She sat down in the dirt and pulled her knees up. Something moved in the ferns. A small green hand parted two fronds. Yellow eyes stared out. The goblin girl stepped through, ragged as ever, a smear of dirt on one cheek. She had been sleeping in the woodshed since her father settled in the shed behind it. She still would not come inside. "You're stuck," Grizak said. It was not a question. "The ferns won't move." Grizak scowled at them. She walked to the nearest frond, gripped it low on the stem, and yanked. Nothing. She braced a boot against the base and yanked again. The plant shuddered. She let go and wiped her hands on her tunic. "Roots go under your house," she said. "Pull them, wall falls." Amanita's stomach dropped. She had not thought of that. She crouched and scraped at the loam near the cottage. Thick fern roots ran under the foundation stones like ropes. If she tore them out, the wall would sag. If she left them, the ferns stayed. She sat back on her heels. Her patch would not grow outward. Not here. "There's other dirt," Grizak said. She jerked her chin toward the woods. "Better dirt. By the willow." "That belongs to the sprites." Grizak shrugged. "Ask them." Amanita looked at the blue-capped sprite on the sill. It looked back. Its cheeks were still sticky with honey water. She stood and brushed off her dress. The cramped patch would stay cramped. That question was answered. But the answer pointed somewhere else — to loam she did not own, guarded by small creatures she had already asked one favor of. She picked up her basket. The blue-capped sprite hopped in. "Come on," she said to Grizak. "I need a witness." Grizak hesitated. Then she followed, three steps behind, close enough to hear.