Wood Sprites

46: Rock-A-Bye Baby, On A Treetop

“I still say it’s a little creepy,” Jillian said sleepily.

Open warfare between the elves and oni had spilled into the streets of Pittsburgh. The tengu had allied with Alexander, hence the reference to “Tinker domi.” Hours before the twins had stolen the gossamer, however, Alexander had gone into hiding. Until Alexander resurfaced, the tengu wanted to keep the girls and the babies safely hidden. So the twins were living with Gracie at the tengus’ secret village.

Gracie had a little house, two hundred feet up a massive old ironwood tree. It was charming until the twins realized it had no Internet and its meager power came from a mix of tiny windmills and solar panels. There was no refrigerator or television or even electric lights.

After dark, they were only permitted elf shines that drifted about the room like fireflies. Enchanting, unless you actually wanted to see something. There wasn’t much that they could do after dusk except talk and sleep.

Not that Louise really minded: the enforced rest was healing. Jillian stopped hiding behind masks and stated hard truths in her own voice.

And yes, their siblings’ eggs were a little creepy.

They had been in the tengu village only a day before Gracie started to lay the four eggs. The eggs were a beautiful shade of sky blue with black speckles. They were also surprisingly large for having come out of petite Gracie Wong. Not that the twins saw the actual laying. They had been busy exploring the tengu village. While the twins delighted in the countless wide-scattered tree houses, the aerial gardens, and the cunningly hidden subterranean community baths and bakeries, Gracie laid the eggs, one at a time. They’d return from their explorations to find another egg had been added to the blanket-lined, temperature-controlled, nesting box until there were four.

And Louise was fine with that arrangement. She’d seen her own birth enough times — thanks to the video their parents had made — to know that the event was probably stressfully painful and icky. The twins really weren’t up to experiencing that four times with a total stranger.

“How can we know it’s really”—Jillian yawned deeply—“them?”

“It’s them.” Louise touched each lightly. “This is Green. This is Red. This is Nikola. And this is Chuck.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Completely. Totally. It was an amazing, wonderful feeling.

Jillian lay back on the floor beside the nesting box. “We should get a marker and write their initials on them. Little smiley faces. Except Chuck. She gets fangs or something.”

“I wonder if they’ll remember anything,” Louise said.

“I hope they don’t. I hope they forget it all. If nothing else, I think Chuck would be mad to find out that she can’t pick her gender.”

Louise laughed.

Joy appeared at the edge of the nesting box, a fabric bag clutched in her front paws. “Cookies!”

“What kind?” Louise took the bag and untied it. “Oh, awesome, rugelach!”

Jillian took one and tasted it. “Oh! These are super awesome rugelach.”

They were probably the best ones Louise had ever tasted, pure buttery bliss in one mouthful.

“Nom, nom, nom.” Joy stuffed one into her mouth. That she only took one meant that Miao the baker had probably given her several dozen in addition to the bag for the twins.

Jillian took three more, trying to make sure Joy didn’t eat them all. “Why in the world are the tengu making Jewish cookies?”

“Because Miao learned to bake in Brooklyn.” And Miao was super nice to them because they were Joy’s Chosen and Tinker domi’s little sisters and the dream crow’s foster children. And Louise had mentioned that rugelach were her favorite cookies. Obviously Miao was trying to make Louise happy.

After the indifference of Ming’s staff, the small act of kindness was cathartic. It made Louise glad that the room was so dim, so Jillian wouldn’t see the tears rolling down her cheeks. Jillian wouldn’t understand that Louise now felt safe enough to cry.

Joy licked clean her paws and climbed in with the eggs to sleep. In a matter of minutes, she was stretched out on her back, front paws on her full belly, gently snoring.

Even though it was stiflingly hot next to the nesting box, the twins lay bracketing it and ate rugelach and whispered about nothing more important than what they would name their baby sisters. The elf shines drifted through the darkness like fireflies as the night wind gently rocked the house.