A ladybug crawled along a leaf.  Mala tilted her head to look at it closer.  Its red carapace shone against the green leaves, with the black spots scattered across its back like dew drops.  It noticed her watching it and waved its antennae at her in greeting.  Mala had no doubt it was also sending some pheromones her way, but she couldn’t detect them.  She couldn’t even wave her own antennae back. 

            Instead, Mala put out her hands and the ladybug crawled onto them.  It was a large one, and it took two of Mala’s hands to hold it.  The ladybug looked at her face and took in the two nubs that were all that were left of Mala’s antennae.  It waved its own again, this time saying I’m sorry.

            She nodded tightly.  Her antennae had been shorn off when she had made the mistake of venturing on to the foreign fae lord’s land.  Her family and friends had warned her not to get too close to the estate, but the vibrant flowers and thick topiaries had been too tempting.  She had flown over the wall and been caught almost immediately.  They bound her into service and took her antennae, effectively cutting of Mala’s ability to communicate with her own kind.  She could talk, yes, but only verbally.  She had lost access to the world of scents and motion that she had grown up in.

            Is there anything I can do? the ladybug asked with another wiggle.  Its innocence made Mala want to cry.  She shook her head.  She was caught, and she was never getting out.

            “Look!  Look mama!  What’s that?”

            The excited voice of a small child made Mala turn her head away from the ladybug.  She felt its feet grip her hands tightly.  Coming through the gardens were the forms of two fae.  Mala recognized them immediately.  They might not know her, but she knew them.  The adult was the wife of the lord Mala ‘served’, and the child was their youngest daughter.  The child had crouched down and was peering through the leaves of the flower bush with wide amber eyes.  One of her fingers was outstretched and pointing directly at Mala

            The mother looked around surreptitiously before crouching down herself.  “In this language, we call them garden sprites,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “but in my people’s language, they are tecot dhals, the Keepers of the Flowers.”

            Mala couldn’t help but smile at the traditional Ikoean name for her kind.  It didn’t surprise her that Lady Neha knew it-she had belonged to one of the native tribes before marrying Lord Kostel.

            The child gasped.  “Mama look!  You made her smile!”

            Neha laughed softly, “Yes, Rynnie, I suppose I did.”

            “Hello te-cot dhals,” the child carefully sounded out each syllable.  Mala was startled to hear a fae speak directly to her.  “I’m Aderyn, but you can call me Ryn.  What’s your name?”