Old Man Green Grabs Her By The Hair

Dindi (Spring Equinox Dawn)

At the last house, a storage hut, she grabbed a carrying basket and slung it over her shoulders. I’ll do my chores as soon as I help the neko, she told herself.

She climbed into the hills after the faery. Fae don’t care about human paths or borders. The neko flew like a fat bee, buzzing over flowers and brush, around trees and over rocks. She flew higher, past the terraces, steps of farmland made by humans, and into the wild hills.

A wild wood grew around a stream. This was one finger of the slow brook where the men went fishing, but here the water was too deep and too fast. Worse, it ran through a troll clan.

Dindi saw their big orange-gray shoulders and hid in the bushes. She shushed the neko when it tried to pull her forward and scold her.

“Wait,” she whispered.

The mountain woods were darker than the clanhold below. The tall trees and slope kept out most of the sun. Still, a few pale beams of light broke through the leaves.

The trolls groaned. Their voices sounded like the wind howling through trees. They curled up beside each other and turned to stone. The stream ran between their huge bodies, which now looked like harmless piles of white stone with streaks of cinnamon.

But Dindi still saw a faint Orange glow. That meant they were not just rocks. They were still fae.

As more light came through the leaves, the trolls curled tighter. Their skin turned gray. The bright Orange glow faded to a soft mossy color on their backs. They ‘died’ during the day—turned to stone. They would wake again at night.

But for now they were harmless. So Dindi jumped and ran across their backs without fear.

A huge old hawthorn tree stood alone at the edge of the clearing. Its branches were twisted and full of long thorns. Tiny white-and-yellow blossoms grew between them.

Every tree, animal, stream, rock, or mountain had a fae. Every blade of grass had a fae. But the hawthorn was special.

An honorable leshy, called Old Man Green, lived in the tree. He was one of the few fae who liked humans. He sometimes showed himself to them.

His smaller friends also lived in the tree—the Hawthorn Flower Fae, who was shy, and the Haw Berry Faery, who was mean. Dindi saw both of them now, sitting on the branches. The Flower Fae watched her shyly. The Haw Berry Fae watched with sharp little eyes. But they both watched her with great interest.

That’s weird…

Usually, she wasn’t afraid of the hawthorn tree. If you didn’t cut it or take anything from it, the fae left you alone.

But this time, she felt uneasy. She didn’t know why.

She shook off the feeling and ran under the branches.

“Ayaha, no you don’t!” a deep, amused voice boomed.

A wooden hand grabbed her hair and lifted her into the air.

She kicked and flailed at first. But then she feared falling more than being hurt. So she grabbed the nearest branch with both hands.

The one holding her was the leshy—the faery of the hawthorn tree. Not the tree itself. But he looked so much like the tree, and sat so still in it, that it was hard to tell where tree ended and fae began.

His skin was gray like bark, with a hint of jade moss. It was rough and cracked, like old wood. His eyes were the color of spring leaves shining in sunlight—bright, clear, and full of strange wisdom.

He wore a crown made of twisted hawthorn branches. Thorns, petals, and berries stuck out of it in all seasons.

His fingers were long and root-like, with sharp thorns instead of nails. His robe was not made with thread—it was grown. Layers of bark, moss, and glowing green wrapped around him like clothes.

“Your mother told me you might try to leave your clan’s land!” he said.

He pointed to the windwheel that hung from the branches. It spun from a string with beads and swan feathers.

The windwheel showed the border where the Lost Swan Clan lands ended. Past this point, the land still belonged to the greater tribe, the Rainbow Labyrinth Tribe, but not to Dindi’s family.

The windwheel had six petals, woven from reeds, shaped like a circle of baskets.

Old Man Green blew on the windwheel. The petals spun and spun.

“Your mother gave me milk and honey to keep you here!” he said.

The other fae in the tree giggled. One sounded sweet. The other sounded mean.

The Hawthorn Flower Fae glowed like soft spring light. Her skin was ivory with pale gold, as if lit from the sun at dawn. She glowed pale yellow.

The Haw Berry Faery was much smaller, no bigger than a robin, but she burned bright red. She looked as friendly as a thorn, and as shiny as a poison berry.

The leshy lifted Dindi higher and sat her on a branch between them. Though both were smaller than her, they held tiny weapons.

The Flower Fae had a tiny bow and arrows with flower tips. The Berry Faery aimed a thorn-tipped spear at her.

It’s not as scary as you think! Dindi smirked.

They didn’t scare her. But the leshy was another story.

He loomed above her. His arms were like tree branches—long, strong, and bendy. They wrapped around her like a cage.

I can’t believe Mama bribed the fae to stop me from leaving the clan lands!

But the neko needs me. She wouldn’t beg like that unless it was serious.

What can I do? I can’t hurt the tree—it would curse my whole family. I have to escape without hurting the tree… or the fae…

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