They had hardly finished lunch when there was a commotion bordering on the verge of a ruckus from outside, as something rattled across the windows with impressive force, Amelia bit back a swear word (sugarlumps does not count as a swearword in adult minds regardless of if you say it like a swear or not, and hoo boy did she say it like a swearword. If there’s one thing lumberjacking and farming are both incredibly good for it would be learning to swear enthusiastically, a side effect of all the tools, sun, and exposure to far too much information on what farm animals get up to when not being painted by city folks.)

“Seems the Spriggans are out in force again,”

Errol couldn’t suppress the groan, sometimes it seemed as if all of Spriggan kind had some kind of dislike of the farm, which in all fairness maybe they did, it was fairly close to their territory after all, and unlike some other fae creatures they weren’t the type to bugger off just because you made them some shoes. (Rest assured Errol had tried it, and was bloody lucky to escape unscathed when little Mary learned the little clogs he had been painstakingly carving for weeks weren’t for her dolls, in the end he had to make them a set too or he would have been pranked into oblivion.)

“They’re still kicking around huh? Did we ever figure out what they had against us?” Errol asked.

“Fraid not, really wish we could, they’ve been at it since you were about six, never could get to what set them off.”

“Spriggans?” Mibbet asked.

“Think little dryad like humanoids with long claws and a mean throwing arm,” Mary said, “They leave me alone most of the time, but they really hate most folks.”

“Maybe we could look into it while we’re here?”

“OH NO I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’ve probably got enough on your plate with ribbon cuttings and such.”

“We’ve had Ratty Revolutions, Protodragons, Lords of Order, Gods, and species on the brink of extinction, things with tentacles, and giant spiders. I’m sure we can handle this I don’t recall ever cutting any ribbons though” Mibbet replied with a grin. “Maybe I need to do it for the waterways project when it gets done, well so long as the drought doesn’t cause more problems first, is that what people think Princesses do all day?” Rosalind sighed, when she got back it was time to have serious words with the publi8c relations team.

But first off she had an investigation to perform, so a few rations were packed up, and a few tents she had never used before and probably never would again after this were unloaded from the back of Trundles. Then she hopped on Alba and they were off (except Rascal who due to the flammable nature of forests was bribed with more spider bit century stew, and settled down for a happy nap in the burning hearth.)

They’d barely got started on the trip though before things got freaky, the woods were dark and misty, and Elvira suddenly discovering a number of human shaped effigies in the trees did not help with the atmosphere very much.

“OK I think I can officially say I hate this” Errol moaned, on the positive side for him though he didn’t see any signs of any spiders, so things could be worse.

Another few minutes in and things got worse, with a screech that sounded like a possessed baby in a room where full of loose mails and blackboards.

“BLOODY FOXES,” Mibbet yelled, foxes were right up there with eels in the list of things that would nom a frog if given half a chance, but now she was human sized they were more an annoyance than anything else. (Of course the addition of a metric tonne of magic and a massively oversized hatchet, not to mention a pair of personal guards and an owl-bear to her defensive options may have been a contributing factor in her newfound courage.) “So do we have any idea what we are actually looking for? Or is this a wait until they try to murder us and we’ll learn directly kind of a deal?”

“The latter sadly” Errol grumbled, going into places where odds of getting murdered by the locals, or possibly assassins was a possibility was rapidly getting old.

“So must be Tuesday huh?” Elvira said with a snicker.

“O0nce we’re a good way in we’ll set up camp, no fires though, if they are going to approach us I’d rather it not be because they’re pissed off that we brought in something that can destroy their home, you’ll just have to make do with warming potions.”

Sir Leeroy could see the sense in that, but was not happy about it. Those potions always put a road through him.

Eventually they found a good place to set up camp, it looked like once over it had been some kind of village, the statue in the centre of the square of a woman in robes, now almost completely swallowed by ivy seemed to be watching, it really gave Rosalind the creeps.

“OK we’ll use the cottages, they look a fair bit more weatherproof than the tents anyway” said Mibbet, opening what was left of a door, only to have the rest of the place crumble around her.

“Oh yeah, sturdy as the day it was made” Elvira snarked.

“Tents it is” Mibbet agreed with a sigh, carefully avoiding the topic of what would have happened had they been inside at the time, a little bit of Princess ego had started to worm itself into her thought processes lately. Things were starting to get more blurry between the pair by the day. Mibbet was starting to wonder if even the catastrophes suggested by the old weavers could separate them these days. With that she started to set up camp, hoping the tents were in fact a tad more solid than those cottages.