Jesse sat amongst the ferns at the creek's edge and put the finishing touches on the tiny structure she was crafting. A piece of rolled birch bark and kitchen twine became the roof of a little fairy house. There. Jesse held up her house and inspected it. It was finished, now she just had to find the perfect spot to place it.

Aunt Christina told her that if she was mindful in the forest, fairies might find her little houses and decide to move in. Jesse used to love sitting in the chair beside her aunt’s bed, pull open one of her fairytale books, and read aloud to her as she rested.

She once asked her aunt, “If the fairies care for the forest, who cares for the fairies?” Aunt Christina smiled and reached out to clasp her hands.

“You can care for the fairies if you wish, by building them houses.” She then asked Jesse to bring her twigs and flowers and bark, and showed her how to make them.

Jesse stood up, clutching the fairy house she’d made. Aunt Christina’s room was now empty, it had been almost a year since she’d passed away. It was fall now, the ferns were starting to turn brown at the edges, and the leaves had changed from lush greens to brilliant oranges and reds. The creek didn’t swirl and churn like it did during the rainy season; now it babbled gently along and would soon become frozen, wide enough in some places for Jesse to slide across in her boots.

The trees, rocks, and hills in the forest were dotted with little houses. Jesse walked into the woods every day collecting bark, pine needles, and acorn caps to craft fairy houses and tuck into every nook and cranny she could find. She was becoming more nimble with her fingers and could work windows and chimneys into her houses now. She was just learning how to make furniture like chairs and tables out of twigs and moss covered pebbles.

She traveled far each day to find new places for her houses. Today she was down by a deer path, a long walk from home. She looked across the creek and spied the perfect spot. A large boulder was cracked in two by a beautiful willow tree. The roots gripping the rock sides were gnarled. Moss and ferns had grown out of the crack and hung down the side where sharp and slick rocks lay. If she placed the house all the way at the top between the roots, the fae who stayed in there would have a darling little green lawn overlooking the path and creek. If she was a fairy, Jesse thought, she’d like to have a view like that.

The rock was very tall, however, and Jesse couldn’t reach. She strained and stretched, but her arms were not long enough to put the house on the top. She decided to climb the boulder, the sides were slippery and she had to fit her feet into the twining roots just to get a grip. Just as she had gotten near the top, her foot slipped on one of the roots and she fell, tumbling down the boulder. The fairy house fell into the creek, and she fell onto the rocks below, amongst the ferns.

After a moment or longer, Jesse sat up, stunned. She looked at herself and whimpered. Her dress was all dirty and ripped, covered in moss and mud. Her hair was tangled and poked full of twigs and leaves. Her fairy house was nowhere to be seen, carried away by the stream.

Jesse sniffled hard, fighting to keep the tears away. She was sore, cold and muddy. Her fairy house was gone. She wished Aunt Christina were here. She would know how to make her feel better. Jesse sat down beside the boulder, and cried.

A soft tinkling sound startled her out of her tears. It sounded like little silver bells filling the air. She could hear voices too, talking and singing.

Just around the corner of the boulder, Jesse saw a small white goat, with gentle pink eyes and a pink nose. It wore a bridle of brown vines, hooked to a charming little leaf-covered wagon. It plodded along slowly, each step causing the bells tied to the reigns to jingle. As Jesse watched, more little white goats and more little wagons appeared around the corner, till there were seven in all, each wagon bearing a goblin driver.

The goblins paused their caravan and studied the little girl. One looked over their shoulder at the others.

“Her Majesty told us we’d find the fairy friend here in these woods.” They chuckled and leaned over their wagon seat, pointing their long finger at her. “And here she is.”

Jesse didn’t dare speak. She’d read about goblins, she knew that the wares they sold were not intended for humans, and she was afraid to be in their presence.

“Well she’s not very polite, is she?” Another sneered, waggling their head back and forth.

“Oh, leave her be.” The one in the rear cried out, hopping off their wagon and coming up to Jesse. They offered a small bow, which Jesse had the manners to return with her own.

“Hello there, miss.” The goblin said. “We travel through these parts each fall to go to the market. We heard that there was a little human, caring for the fairies here. The Queen of these parts wishes to speak with you there. Would you care to ride with me?”

Jesse gasped at the mention of a queen. “There’s a fairy queen who lives here?” She asked, looking down at her dress. To her surprise, her ripped and dirty dress was now mended, clean, and dry. Her hair was brushed and twig-free. She looked at the gentle goblin. “I’d be honored.” She said.

The goblin nodded and offered their hand. Jesse was guided up into the wagon seat. The goat tossed it’s head, sounding off peals of bells. Off the caravan went, down the deer path and into the glen, further than Jesse had ever walked. She held her breath as they approached the entrance, an arched doorway in the woods of vines and leaves and flowers.

There must have been hundreds of fairy folk there. They were all different sizes and shapes. Some wore clothes that looked like royal gowns from her fairytale books, others wore coats of leaves and bark. This caravan was just one of many that had arrived. Jesse looked out into the middle of the glen where a throne of tree stumps and mushrooms stood. Standing before the throne was a familiar figure. Jesse had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“Aunt Christina!” Jesse cried out as her wagon stopped. She jumped off the wagon and ran into her aunt’s arms. “You’re here!” She sobbed, clutching the soft linens of her aunt’s dress as she felt those familiar hands hold her again. She wore a dress that appeared to be woven out of butterfly wings and leaves. Her train was crafted from spider silk and she wore a crown of apple blossoms.

“I am here, little Jesse. I have been watching you.” Queen Christina held her tight, and bent down so they could see eye to eye. “As I became queen of this realm, my subjects were talking of our forest, and of the little homes they discovered every day. You cared greatly for the fairies, dear. Because of your love and care, I was able to send for you when it was time.” And with the motion of her gentle hands, Queen Christina revealed Jesse’s lost fairy house, and handed it to her. “This fairy house brought you to me, my little princess, riding on a goblin caravan.”

Jesse looked at her fairy house, then up at the people in the glen. The folk around them were busy; some were setting up stalls and feeding the caravan beasts, others were gathered around, counting their coins and waiting for the market to start. Most were shyly watching their Queen and the little girl with interest. She spied familiar looking homes tucked within the trees around them, large versions of the fairy houses she’d made, all bark and branches and moss.

Queen Christina’s hands held Jesse’s shoulders. Her voice, soothing and gentle, carried out over the gathering crowds, hushing them.

“Welcome to the goblin market, Princess Jesse, friend of the fairies. Welcome home.” Queen Christina led her back to the throne, where a smaller seat had grown up right beside it, just the right size for Jesse. She had found her home amongst the ferns and the fae, with her aunt by her side.