“First, little bug, what shall I call you?”

I very nearly told her my name straight away before setting my jaw and rethinking my answer, "You think I'm so stupid to tell you my real name?"

"I would have been disappointed if you had. However, I did not ask you your name, but what to call you."

"Uh," I didn't have an answer to that. My name was Brian, and I didn't want to reveal it. But I didn't know any fairy names, and even if I did I couldn't think to call myself by them. I bit my lip and pulled nervously at my sleeves. "Call me . . . Brianne."

There was something strange about saying that name and I felt a slight mist form leave my lips as I spoke it. I didn’t like it one bit.

"What a lovely name for a lovely sprite. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Brianne." She nodded her head to me and I heard real kindness in her voice. But that couldn't be right. This was a fae woman, a cunning sidhe, and she had transformed, shrunk, and captured me.

"What should I call you?" I asked. I knew better than to think she would give me her true name. But it seemed right somehow to ask. I was done calling her the weirding woman.

"Wellowyn" I noticed, or felt, or imagined a wave of cool air run across my body after she spoke, despite the glass and the distance between us. We fell into silence and I began to fidget as Wellowyn stared at me. I clenched and unclenched my fingers, feeling something was simply off. There was something I should be doing.

I should be trying to escape, I thought to myself. But no, that wasn't it. What had Wellowyn done when I told her my name?  She said that she was pleased to meet me. I glanced up to her beautiful storm grey eyes. This was a lady of the wood, a proper fae, a powerful sidhe woman. More powerful than me, at any rate. And she was waiting on me to do something.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Wellowyn." I said, and the pressure to speak went away. But I still felt fidgety, as if it wasn't quite enough. The fae woman knit her brows together in seeming concern.

"What bothers you so, Brianne?" Something about the way she asked told me that Wellowyn know the answer already. Yet she chose to ask the question and feign concern. Or, was she feigning?

"Is there something I'm supposed to be doing? I feel like there's something I'm supposed to do and it's driving me crazy."

"Ahhh, I see. Well, what does a courtier do whenever she meets a lady? Mayhap your answer lies there."

I blinked, and answer came blaring into my mind on fire engine sirens. A courtier pays her respects whenever she meets a lady. She curtsies. And as soon as I thought it, I was doing it, bowing in my tutu to Wellowyn as if she was royalty. And as I curtsied I felt a slight tickle along the ridge of my back, just beneath my shoulder blades. I scratched at it once I came up, but quickly forgot about it.

"Brianne, you are too kind." She said, but I knew on some level that was itself a courtesy. She had always expected me to bow to her, even though she didn't force me to do so. Did that mean something?

"Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I think it time to get you to work on chores.”

"Wait, what? No way!" I shouted, "No way, no way." I stamped my foot on the glass floor. "I demand you release me and turn me back." I vaguely was aware that I was a few inches tall and trapped in a jar. The image from outside would have been hilarious, but since I was stuck inside, I remained angry. Wellowyn arched her eyebrows and twisted her smile a bit to the side.

"Is it not customary for a captured sprite to serve her captor for through until sunrise or sunset?" She asked.

I stuck one tiny finger at the giant fae, "You know I don't the answer to that. I don't know the first thing about being . . ." I motioned to my body rather than say it out loud. ". . . this."

"Then, do you have a counter offer? What shall you give me, in return for your release?” She asked, and she waited sincerely for an answer. What the hell could I give this fae woman? An Xbox? I looked around and didn’t see any switches, plugs, or even light fixtures in her house.

“Have you an offer to me, Brianne?”

I crossed my arms and shook my head. But I wasn’t prepared to give in. At the same time, I wanted so much. I wanted out of this jar, to be big again, and a man again. I wanted everything to go back to normal. And the only person I knew who could help me was Wellowyn.

“Why can’t you just let me go?”

“What benefit is it to me to let a perfectly able sprite go free? At the very least, you are a delightful decoration as you are now. No, I will let you go for a fair price.”

I blanched. I had read just enough books to know the fae didn't do anything for free. But then I turned that around. Wellowyn, I realized, couldn't force me to do anything. She still needed my agreement. I could be stubborn, and pouty, and stay in the jar. Or. I sighed.

"One day or one night is customary?" I asked.

"Aye."

"When you say 'serve,' what does that mean?"

"Nothing untoward, I assure you. Household chores, tending my garden, grocery shopping, and the like."

"And when my service is over?"

"I shall return you to where I found you."

I tapped my finger to my chin. One night wouldn’t kill me, much as I would hate it, I knew I could bear it. I could ask Wellowyn what I could do to return to normal, but I decided not to. I was not yet prepared to become more indebted to her.

"Can you tell me the correct way of accepting an agreement, seeing as I don't want to offend you.

indeed, there was something a little like pride in Wellowyn's face. "As you have been a gracious guest, I shall, indeed. Have no worries and begin with these words: You have captured me fairly.”

I breathed out slowly, then nodded: "You have captured me fairly, Lady Wellowyn, and I ask: what can I do so that I might go free?” It was bizarre that once I started to speak, I knew exactly what to say, as if the words had already been set in my mind but hidden away until I needed them.

“Serve me until sunrise, doing those tasks I give to you.”

With a pit forming in my stomach, I nodded, “I accept your most gracious offer.” Wellowyn had won this round, I knew, as she was always destined to do. I didn’t have a chance from the first moment I touched that damn wand.

“Said thrice and done.” It was Wellowyn who completed the deal, and as she spoke a calm, cool mist settled over me. While I felt no force of magic, agreeing had made it so. I had accepted, of my own will, to serve this woman in exchange for my release. I couldn't argue it, or deny it, or hardly even complain about it.

Once again, I felt the strangest, tingling sensation along my back.

“Now, Brianne, watch yourself. Would that you had wings, this would be simpler.” Wellowyn walked forward, gripped the jar, and then unscrewed the lid. Even though nothing really changed, I felt better immediately. And then she began to tip the glass jar over.

“Whoa!” I shouted but realized with panicked thoughts this was the only way. Wellowyn was right: wings would have made this easier. I managed to keep my balance inside the jar until it was lying on its side. As soon as Wellowyn stopped moving it, I rushed out through the opening, barely having to duck my head, and then jumped down onto her mantleplace. I was, in a technically sense, free. But at a few inches tall, moving around might be an issue.

“For the first thing I need you to do,” Wellowyn said, and I turned to face her as soon as she began speaking. “I’ll need you to be large again. Do you still have your wand?”

“Uhhh.” Was all I could muster in response.