The woodwoman was large, tall with broad shoulders. Her gray hair rested in a bun at the nape of her neck. The wrinkles that crisscrossed her hands and face only gave her eyes more edge. I could feel her gaze pricking across my form as she looked me up and down. In her shadow, Madeleine stood, eyes downcast, barely there.

Finally, the old woman's eyes met mine, iced. "Can I help you, sir?"

"A penny for a song to compliment this lovely day, miss?" I did a small jig in place.

She lifted an eyebrow. "You play?"

I ceremoniously removed my pipe from my bag. Without taking her eyes from the instrument, the woodwoman reached into her apron and produced a small coin. She flipped it across the room, and it landed easily in my outstretched palm. I rubbed the worn metal for a moment to muster confidence. As I slipped the coin into my hat, the old woodwoman hefted a chair from the edge of the room to the center.

"Play me a song, piper."

I bowed low and lifted my flute to my lips as Madeleine slipped through the heavy door and into the mysterious back room. In that moment, I played my best. I was beautiful, lilting, fingers light and fast. My song drifted between me and the woodwoman palpably. I channeled the beauty of the sunny day, the beauty of Madeleine's bright smile. In that moment, I felt the temperature of the room increase ever-so-slightly, as if Eona herself had settled down next to the woodwoman to listen in. With each line of my melody, the woodwoman's mouth twitched up higher and higher until her grin was full and her wrinkles quite scrunched. I played and played until Madeleine returned to the main room, the woodwoman's attention never wavered, she sat enraptured until the end.

Madeleine crept closer to the front, weaving between puppet piles, as the old woman released her smile. She stared at me still from her seat, her lips barely parting to form a soft word, "Perfect."