“We meet again,” Osric said. “I’m Osric.”
“My name is unpronounceable to humans,” the faerie said. “You may call me what you please.”
“How about Lavender?”
“That is acceptable.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I did not,” she said. “The web was for my escape. You chose to touch it. We have curiosity in common, it seems.”
“What is this place?” Osric asked. “Why are you here?”
“I have not completed my rite of passage,” Lavender said. “To be accepted in the Fellowship, I must bring a treasure to the Queen. Your ring would have worked, but it was a trap, so I cannot use it. These ruins belonged to elves thousands of ages ago. If I find an object of value, I will earn my acceptance. Until that time, I am considered a misfit, an outcast.”
“Do you have my ring?” Osric asked. She nodded. “Can I have it back, please? My own acceptance depends on it.”
“I shall return it to you on one condition,” she said. “You must accompany me into the ruins and help me find my treasure. Only then shall you have your ring.”
“I could snatch you up and take it from you,” Osric said.
“You could try,” Lavender said. “But can you fly?”
Osric lunged toward her, but she flew up out of his reach, leaving him sprawled face-down on the ancient cobblestone road. Her laughter reminded him of the faerie musicians.
“Your point is taken,” Osric said. “Let’s go, then.”
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