She had just gotten back to the Tavern, having found a Market to trade at. It had taken her hours of searching. The Hedge didn’t leave giant billboards directing you to the nearest market. And forget Goggle Maps. It was trial and error, dead ends and sketchy looking trails. Once she found a market, the real fun began.

It felt like hours finding exactly what she needed. Add the time spent in negotiation and she was wiped out. The trip back to the Tavern felt like it took longer, paths changed or gone. But there was nothing like a determined Nix, who pressed on despite the thorns tugging at her jeans, scratching at any exposed skin. Finally, the Tavern came into view, and she practically ran to it.

Her items were secured in a messenger bag on a table near the hearth. Carefully opening it, she lifts out the ragged books. They had been damaged somehow and discarded, the Hob not expecting anyone to want them. And was pleasantly happy when the Nix offered to trade him for them, but still haggled for the best item he could get.

The leather was worn from use and time, torn in some places, and the pages? They were mostly gone, except for a few here and there, all she held was the hollow husk of what was once a book. But all she needed was the spines at the moment. The smell of musky, dusty odor from the books wafted from the pages, but also, in some weird way, the wisdom that the tomes once held was mixed in.

So she sets to work, using an exacto knife to cut away the piece she needed. The pages that were left, were set aside, they would be needed later.

It took hours, how many exactly? She didn’t know. But she worked carefully, though there were many cuts to her fingers and hands.

With a long needle, and some special thread, the spines were stitched together on an adjustable dress form she had. The other half of her creation was tucked away. Now sewing wasn’t her thing, so it took a long time of trial and error to get things just right. A few swear words and a lot of deep breaths. But she did it.

Standing, she stretches her back and looks at her work with a satisfied smile. It was taking a long time, but the work was worth it.

Leaning forward, she places her mouth close to the spines, gently blowing a lustful breath on them and whispering a few tantalizing words. The Wyrd tingled around her as the spines seemed to respond. Softly pulsing with new life breathed into them, warm once again. A little pocket that had been cut out was next. Reopening one of the cuts on her fingers with the knife, she allows her blood to drip into it. Once again, the Wyrd responded, and a little red heart, began to beat in tune with her own. The tiny door was closed.

The Treasured practically squealed with delight. It had worked! The top piece was finished! The next was the skirt, which required her to sew the book pages onto the bottom, gently brushing against the ground. Now sewing paper wasn’t easy. At all. A few cusses, a few frustrated growls, but she managed it. Standing, she walks out into the Hedge with a jar, and chases around a few fireflies. She didn’t need many, considering how huge they were. But they would work.

With the jar placed under the skirt, the top off, she once again attempts to work the Wyrd. It took a few tries, but soon the soft light from the bugs wove its way into the words on the pages, emitting a gentle light.

It was done. The dress was placed in a dress bag as the exhaustion began to set in.