Chapter 61: The Meddlesome Sprite

Herrwn had no doubt whatsoever that the impish being that had taken up residence in their shrine, and so far evaded all attempts to exorcise it, was a sprite. Certainly other spirits could and did make their presence known by playing jokes on humans—but the acts of demons were more malevolent, while those of elves were often quite whimsical. The pranks of the invisible jester who had been plaguing them for months were neither evil nor charming but simply childish.

The frog in the soup was characteristic of this particular sprite’s sense of humor, as was the live eel swimming in a vat of pickled ones (which did upset the cook) and the bread basket that chirped suspiciously and was found when taken outside to be full of a teeming mass of crickets.

While the pranks of a sprite were much to be preferred over the cruel and dangerous tricks played by a demon, things had gotten to the point where you couldn’t unseal a jar of sacred oil without a swarm of flies buzzing out, or descend a dark stairwell without stepping into a mound of horse manure.

It was with this in mind that Herrwn cast a stern look up and down the table before assuring the distraught servant that no blame was to be laid at his door and asking if he would be so good as to exchange this bowl of soup for another. He would have added, “one without a frog in it,” only he wasn’t sure he could say the word “frog” with a straight face—and, glancing toward the women’s end of the table, he could see that neither Feywn nor Rhonnon was among those laughing.

Just how seriously the upper ranks of the priestesses took the problem of the meddlesome sprite was brought home to Herrwn that afternoon when Benyon threw open the doors to the classroom without knocking and cried, “You are called! She wants to speak to you!”

During the years that Caelendra had been the chief priestess it had been quite usual for Herrwn, as the shrine’s chief priest, to be called to consult on matters of consequence. That, however, had not happened since Feywn ascended, and Herrwn hurried to take up his staff.

After striding as swiftly as dignity allowed down the hall and across the courtyard, Herrwn opened the front doors to the women’s quarters. “I am here to see—” he began.

Belodden cut him off before he finished, saying, “You may proceed. She’s waiting for you in the birthing chambers!”

Having expected to be directed to either the priestesses’ communal meeting room or to Feywn’s private chambers, Herrwn was surprised and must have looked it, because Belodden said with poorly hidden impatience, “High Priestess Rhonnon instructed me to tell you that she awaits your presence in the birthing chamber.”

“Of course! And now, having your permission, I will proceed there at once.” Hiding his disappointment that it was not the chief priestess herself who’d sent for him, Herrwn gave a brief bow and headed down the hallway.

The birthing chamber had changed from the last time Herrwn had seen it. Everything that had to do with birth had been put away, and the room was now clearly used for other tasks. There were several worktables, some with embroidery materials and others with sheaths of dry herbs. Rhonnon was standing at a table with herbs on it, sorting sprigs into separate piles.

Though he saw the shrine’s chief midwife at the communal meals, the High Council meetings, and all their shared rites and rituals, Herrwn had not spoken at any length with her since the night they’d taken part in the Sacred Summer Solstice Ceremony together. Unsure whether he should make any reference to that uncharacteristically intimate event, he returned her formal greeting and took the chair she offered him at the one empty table in the room.

It was a long, wide table, and when Rhonnon took the chair opposite his, there was enough distance between them that he felt it was safe to assume she did not wish to be reminded of their ceremonial consortship. Still, there was an undertone of approval in her voice as she began, “I gather from the … incident at the midday meal that you are not one of those who takes the … antics of our meddlesome sprite as a source of amusement.”

There was no question in Herrwn’s mind that there was exactly one correct answer to Rhonnon’s implied question, and he gave it.

“I do not, and I am deeply concerned that these antics have continued in spite of all Ossiam’s attempts to identify exactly what sort of sprite this is and what steps we must take to propitiate it and put an end to these most troublesome incidents.”

“So in the meanwhile, may I assume that you are willing to do all within your power to keep these … antics from causing harm?”

Again, there was only one answer to this.

“Of course!” he said, nodding firmly, but added what he hoped would be a reassuring caveat, “though fortunately this sprite seems to act without any real malice.”

“Are you sure? Have you not noticed their increasing frequency and cunning?” Rhonnon’s response was sharp, almost accusatory.

“Well, now that you mention it, I suppose—”

“Well, I suppose that those at most risk are the five girls on whom all of our hopes for the future rest!”

The thought that the young priestesses-in-training might be a target of the sprite’s attacks was very disturbing indeed, and Herrwn responded with sincere concern, “Have any of these incidents occurred within the nursery?”

“They started there!”

Herrwn was shaken. “Then we must call Ossiam at once!” He was halfway off the chair and ready to dash for the oracle’s tower, but Rhonnon motioned for him to stay where he was.

“As you have already said, Ossiam’s efforts thus far have been in vain, so it is my thought that we must instead watch closely over the girls until this sprite tires of its games and leaves of its own accord. I have spoken with Feywn and have received her permission to take whatever measures are necessary to see that the girls are well guarded.”

Flattered to be included in the determination of what steps should be put in place to assure the safety and welfare of the shrine’s precious priestesses-in-training, Herrwn rose and bowed. “I am deeply honored that you should call on my counsel in this most urgent matter.”

Accepting the gesture with a somewhat impatient nod, Rhonnon went on to describe the measures she had already taken, beginning, “As you know, there is only one entrance into our side of the shrine …”