A hop, a skip, and a jump, and the thumb-sized fairy was free of the trap and head-first into an elderflower bush. There were a couple of further shakes afterwards and then both it and traces of its passing were gone.

There was, of course, no thanks or wave, but then it had probably assumed I was the one who had set the trap. We’re all so large in comparison that they have great difficulty in telling us apart. It probably contributes to their reputation for whimsical inconstancy.

I looked over at my client, who seemed oblivious to it all. If they hadn’t set the trap, then it was likely someone else in the household with access to the garden. I gently flicked a couple of the rusty nails still in place in opposite directions. A brush of the palm removed what looked like salt from the top of the wall.

Whatever was causing the disturbances round here, it wasn’t going to be something small enough to be caught by chance like that. I’d need to work out who the trap-layer was though, if only so we didn’t end up at cross purposes later.

I smiled brightly and caught their attention, “So, tell me more about this veiled figure and the crying statues.”