On a Pincushion

Little Jack

Little Jack moves through a landscape where brooches, pins, and water people have their own grievances and wisdom, and where human children are watched more closely than they know. His youth makes him vulnerable to the vanity that the fairy folk so often punish, yet it also leaves him open to love in a way that hardened hearts are not. He matters because the tales turn on what he learns — and on whether he learns it in time.

Vain Lamorna

Lamorna bends over the brook daily, praising her own brown eyes and rosebud mouth while the tiny water people beneath the surface shake their heads and sigh. She stays past six o'clock, forgetting her father's supper and his anger, because her reflection matters more than anything waiting for her at home. Her vanity is not merely a flaw but a kind of blindness, and the story watches to see what the world will make of a girl who cannot see past her own face.

Rupert

Rupert rides through the countryside with trumpeters and hounds, part of a glittering world that passes ordinary cottages without a glance. His beauty and rank make him an object of longing for those who watch from doorways, though he himself seems unaware of the quiet hearts he leaves behind. He matters because the stories measure the distance between the splendid and the overlooked, and because his indifference sets longing in motion.

Blanchelys

Blanchelys stands at the cottage door whenever the King's son rides past, opening the gate and gazing after him while her cousin Zaire mocks her for it. She grows thin and pale from a love no one returns, and when she finally creeps out at night to kneel beneath the yew-tree with a hidden candle, she calls up a winged boy who announces himself as Love. Her willingness to ask for what she wants — and her fear once it appears — sets the tale's central bargain in motion.

Queen Blanchelys

Queen Blanchelys carries the weight of a love that began at a cottage gate and led her to summon Love himself beneath the yew-tree. Whatever she asked for that night has shaped her into a woman the tales call poor, and her suffering is bound up with the very desire that once made her bold. She matters because her story shows what happens after the wish is granted — and because the price of love, once named, cannot be unspoken.

Siegfrid

Siegfrid is small enough to be called little and poor enough to be pitied, yet he is the one who travels with Handa into places where brooches tell stories and water people watch from beneath the surface. His youth and vulnerability make him an easy target for the tricks and trials that the fairy folk devise, but they also make his courage matter more. He is the reader's companion through the stranger corners of the book, learning what the tales have to teach.