Amanita Sporewell's Arc

Chapter 7 of 14

Amanita and Grizak walked to the willow grove with the blue-capped sprite riding in the basket. Amanita had rehearsed her request three times on the path. She would offer more honey water. She would promise to share cuttings. She had a plan. The plan lasted until she stepped past the last luminous fern and saw the grove. The soil under the willow was torn open. Long furrows ran between the roots. Someone had scraped away the glowing loam in wide handfuls and left bare gray dirt behind. Two sprites sat on a root, hunched, their caps dim. A third lay curled in a hollow, asleep or worse. "Someone's been digging," Grizak said. She crouched by a furrow and sniffed. "Fresh. This morning." Amanita's throat went tight. If the loam was gone, she had nothing to bargain for. No richer ground. No garden beyond the wagon-wheel patch. She knelt by the sprites and held out the honey jar. The blue-capped one climbed from her basket and touched a dim sprite's shoulder. The dim sprite blinked once. A soft light moved behind the fronds of a giant fern. Amanita thought it was another sprite. Then the fronds parted and a fairy stepped out, no taller than Amanita's hand. She had folded rainbow wings and a satchel at her hip that clinked. She was tucking something wrapped in leaf-cloth into the satchel. A greenish crumb of loam stuck to her thumb. The fairy saw them and smiled. "Little gardener. You're late to market." "That's mine," Amanita said. Her voice shook. "That belongs to the sprites." "It belongs to whoever carries it out." The fairy patted the satchel. "I trade in rare things. This grove has been generous." Grizak stood up. Her hands were fists. "She's stealing. Look at them." She pointed at the curled sprite. Amanita looked at the empty furrows, then at the fairy's satchel. Arguing would not fill the ground back in. She set her basket down and pulled out the etched bottle. It had not refilled since she planted the sprout. It was still beautiful. The patterns on the glass caught the fern-light and glowed. "Trade," Amanita said. She held it up. "This for what's in your bag. All of it." The fairy's smile changed. She stepped closer. She touched the glass and her eyes went wide. "Dormant," she murmured. "But the etching alone —" She unhooked the satchel and set it in the dirt. "Done." She took the bottle and was gone between the fronds before Amanita could breathe. Amanita opened the satchel. Glowing loam, packed tight in leaf-cloth. Enough for a patch three times her current one. Grizak whistled low. The blue-capped sprite climbed back into the basket. The two hunched sprites watched Amanita, waiting. "I'll bring the rest back," Amanita said to them. "After it grows." She had loam. She had lost the bottle. She walked home with the satchel held tight against her chest.