The Hob's Bargain

others, but at last they were gone—except for Banar.
    â€œBanar,” I said, “they can’t hurt you anymore. Go to sleep.”
    I touched his cheek, and gently stepped away. As soon as I pulled my hand away from his face, he was gone. No white fog drifting away, he was just gone.
    â€œThey won’t rise again,” said the hob after a moment.
    â€œWhat?”
    He smiled at me, and his tail wrapped about one of my ankles. Twice. “I told you, you’re a spirit speaker. Something as weak as those ghosts can’t defy you. When you told them to rest, they had to. You’d given the one more power by your recognition, and his fear gave him more. But names have power, too, even birth names. So he is at rest as well.”
    â€œIs that the right thing to do?” I asked, glancing uncomfortably at the hob’s tail.
    The hob shrugged. “Ghosts are spirit left when the soul has gone on. I’m not sure it matters whether they rest or not. They’re not like ghouls or wraiths, twisted souls denied peace. Like as not, the ghosts here would have been gone in a year or two anyway.”
    I decided I didn’t want to pursue it any further. “Right. All right. So much for ghosts. Tell me how we appease an angry earth spirit.” I wiggled my leg lightly against his hold.
    â€œFirst,” he said, pulling his tail away, “you have to dress the part.”

    â€œN O ,” I SAID FIRMLY . T HE CREEK CARRIED RUNOFF FROM the snowpack high in the mountains. It was cold—really, really cold—and I wasn’t going to get into it. Particularly not with the hob prepared to scrub me with a handful of moss.
    â€œIt’s not that bad,” he coaxed. “From the smell of your clothes, you could use a bath anyway.”
    I hope what I thought showed on my face. “I’m not going to strip off my clothes and freeze my rump off in the middle of the night with a stranger.”
    He widened his eyes in mock affront, but I could tell he was enjoying this. “How could I be a stranger?” I thought he was going to bring up our betrothal, but he was smarter than that. “We’ve fought side by side and shared magic.”
    I tapped my foot. “Sharing magic is not what I’m worried about.”
    He considered that a moment. “I’ll close my eyes.”
    â€œI thought you had to scrub me or it wouldn’t be a proper ceremonial bath.”
    â€œAren,” he cajoled.

    â€œF ARAN-ROTTING COLD SPRING ,” I COMPLAINED, THEN squeaked. “You could be a little less thorough.”
    He ignored my complaints and took no more notice of my body than if I’d been a horse he was grooming. It was still curdling embarrassing—insulting, too, come to think of it.
    He dried me with a soft cloth, then wrapped my shivering body in a single piece of silk that caught the moon’s light and changed it into a thousand shades of green and gold. It wasn’t very warm. I couldn’t tell what made it stay where it was.
    â€œQuit fussing with it or it’ll be on the ground,” the hob warned as he took a step back to look at me.
    â€œI’m not fussing, I’m shivering.”
    He’d set aside his cloak when he started washing me. I snatched it from the ground and covered the sarong with it.
    He grinned, and I had the childish urge to kick him in the shins. “Now we have to do something about your hair. Sit on this rock.”
    He took my hair from its braids and combed it out until it hung past my hips.
    â€œThere,” he said at last, satisfaction in his voice. “Now to find the symbols of the earth’s bounty. Wait here.”
    When he was gone, I found myself comparing these preparations with the ones I’d undergone for my marriage. Then it had been my mother and sister bathing me, preparing my hair. I drew Caefawn’s cloak tighter against the memories, choosing instead to worry about meeting with the earth spirit.
    The hob returned too soon for my peace of mind. With him he brought an armful of greenery. He sat at my feet and, whistling cheerfully, wove a tight circlet of rowan that he placed on my head before selecting wildflowers and tucking them around it.
    â€œWhat is the earth spirit like?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t remember much about him,” he replied, selecting some mountain aster from his booty. “Though I recall he’d associated with humans a long