Lessoc Fountain - a fairy-creature tale

Ch. 13 To Market

Hector was there, wading up to his knees in the thick field grasses. By the faint violet light, a cloud of field fairies partly covered him in wispy, changing lines. His ears pricked at her arrival, but he continued to graze.

He recognizes me.

"You didn't leave like Soufflé said," she whispered.

She crossed to where the horse was standing, her feet numb and legs stinging from the morning chill. Hector raised his head to nicker and blow great steaming puffs of air from his nose, and she rubbed the unruly spot between his eyes.

There were half a dozen field fairies on his cheeks and lids. As she watched, the tiny fairies caught the wriggling maggot things as soon as they surfaced in Hector's sores and eyes. Then just as quick, the fairies threw them in the air where they disappeared into black puffs. The fairies shivered, nodding their heads and touching each other's antennae-like ears together before preparing to strike again.

They are cleaning the sores of the Huntsman's magic.

Cocot leaned against Hector's ribcage, rolling her head to listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat—surprisingly slow—the muted chewing and odd gurgling from his belly. She trembled with cold and pressed against his warm shoulder; a magpie chick with her white nightdress and dark hair across her shoulders and back, huddled against a parent, for the moment safe and quiet. and hidden from all potential predators and danger around them. Several minutes passed and Cocot watched the sky change from violet to pale blue with a touch of yellow in the east.

When the sky changed from violet to pale blue, she roused herself.

"Today we go to the market in Bulle," she said, scaring off the field fairies. She patted his flank and returned slowly to the chalet, each step a bundle of needle-pricks in her cold feet.

At the doorstep, there was an extra pair of shoes next to her own; two suede slippers in beige with dark red stitching. The toes ended in points that curled delightfully upwards. Not nearly full curly-q's like Soufflé's, but a hint anyway. She checked the door to see if someone had gone in; a polite trespasser who knew better than to traipse inside with dirty shoes, but no, the door was locked tight.

The slippers looked about her size. She wiped her feet with her nightdress to try them on.

Not only were they a perfect fit, they matched her mother's dress, too. A gift from the Bounet Rodzos?

She brushed and braided her hair for the first time in weeks. Her mother's hair had been snowy white and as thick as her wrist when braided. Cocot's hair was not so thick, but longer and she wrapped the braid around her head twice.

There was a mirror on the inside of the great armoire that she never used because it warped her reflection. She tried not to look at herself while she fixed the pins; her forehead bulged, her eyes bugged and then her nose became enormous as she moved. However, she was glad to see that the braid helped hide the fact her ears were rather large and stuck out at the top.

She grabbed several canvas bags and some cord, plus her basket. Breakfast would be on the way, so she was ready.

Outside, Hector was standing in the middle of the cabbages and had already trampled the turnips.

"No, Hector! Get out of there!" she scolded him. "I won't give you any apples if I have to replace everything you ruin in my garden. Out, out!"

She whispered the charm for the door and locked it as the horse ambled through the leeks and carrots to the path. "Done smashing my vegetables?" she asked him as he nuzzled her basket. "Then we had better be off. It's a four hour walk, but don't worry; we'll have plenty of time before it grows dark."