It had been another successful delivery assisted by the midwife and her apprentice, Lyra.
The baby was a girl, and a beautiful one, with big brown eyes and soft curls.
While the new mother, Miss Thistledown Rosebees, had a warm bath and then sat by the fire with a bowl of soup in her hands, Lyra was given the task of rocking and soothing the baby to sleep. She wrapped the little girl in a warm wool blanket made from soft woven moss, and set her to down in the wooden cradle.
The winter winds were blowing outside the small cottage. Snow had fallen the night before, but the sun was out and shining through the windows, warming the room pleasantly.
“What will you name the baby?” Lyra asked Thistledown, rocking the cradle with her hand.
“I haven’t chosen a name yet,” said Thistledown. “I .”
“It’s best to name the baby as soon as possible,” said the midwife. “That will protect it from curses, charms, and–”
Thistledown’s face changed. She stood up suddenly from her chair, looking over at the cradle. “No!” she shouted.
All Lyra could do was stare. She had set the baby down only moments ago, and the child had been fast asleep immediately. Surely she hadn’t climbed out of the cradle in that short time!
But the midwife didn’t blame Lyra, or even ask her what had happened. Instead, she turned to the new mother, a question in her gaze.
Thistledown looked confused for a moment, before she sighed and sat down again, her head in her hands. “I know what’s happened. Oh, I know for sure. It’s my fault. I had hoped this day would never come!”
“Tell us,” said the midwife. “But I think I know the answer to the mystery of why an unnamed child has been quickly and magically spirited away.”
“When I was a very young girl,” said Thistledown, “I found a pile of gold coins, geodes, and gemstones hidden inside a hollow log. I tried to stuff a handful into my apron pocket and run away, but a diamond knife had pinned down my skirt, because that was more than just an ordinary log. It was the tunnel into the Underground Hall of the Gnome Realm. Gnora the Gnome Queen found me there, pinned to the earth, and refused to release me with the treasures in hand. Unless I promised something in return.”
“Your firstborn child?” the midwife asked. Lyra thought she didn’t sound surprised at all.
“Exactly that. And I was so young, of course I immediately agreed. But I reasoned with myself that I didn’t have a child at the time, so I might as well have promised nothing at all. I had hoped the promise was forgotten. Or at the very least, I thought I could easily defend my child from being stolen by a creature as small as a gnome. And the worst part of all was that the jewels I had put in my pocket were false. They had turned into snail shells by the time I arrived home. So I couldn’t even trade the jewels again, in exchange for my baby.”
Now it was the midwife who gave a heavy sigh. She turned to look at her apprentice, and Lyra knew right then what she was about to be asked to do.
“You have a gift, Lyra,“ the midwife said. “You always find a way to get what you want from anyone.”
As she followed the stream that flowed into the underground kingdom of the gnomes, Lyra thought hard about what the midwife had said. Did she really have that gift? Maybe she truly did. After all, in the span of less than a year, she had dealt with fairies, trolls, and talking animals, and had yet to be outsmarted by any of them.
Surely, negotiating the rescue of a human child from a gnome queen would be possible. Wouldn’t it?
