Page 13 of Must Love Moss and Moonshine (Moonshine Hollow)

KELLEN

I t was rare for me to sleep much beyond sunrise. Regularly waking with hues of pink and gold trimming the horizon, I was disoriented by the bright light streaming in through my window. But I was even more disoriented when I realized my arms were wrapped around the Sylvan woman snuggled in my bed.

She was still asleep. Her breath was low and deep. At some point in the night, she had curled beside me, my larger frame perfectly encapsulating hers. She lay her head on my arm, my other arm wrapped around her, holding her close.

Closing my eyes, I relished the moment. I caught the subtle scent of lilac that perfumed her hair.

I felt her warmth. She fit perfectly. My heart swelled with emotion.

She was not mine. She might even belong to another, but how I wanted this—her—so much.

She was like a light in the darkness, her joking manner so at odds with what I thought were my reserved, stoic ways.

But around her, I found myself smiling more.

Laughing more. Maybe… Maybe I didn’t really even know myself.

Around her, I was the person I wanted to be. She brought the joy out in me.

I lay there for a long time, relishing our closeness, until I started to worry.

What if I had pulled her close in my sleep?

Would she be horrified to wake up like this?

What if her memories returned and she woke to tell me of her lover, her children, a life waiting for her?

She already told me she felt there was somewhere she needed to be.

What if someone she loved was ill and waiting for her?

There might have been more than romance at stake here.

She was alone on horseback in the forest, trying to get somewhere.

She felt the urgency herself, and the evidence suggested the same.

It did neither of us good to linger in fantasy.

Moving carefully, I began to slowly pull my arm from under her.

She stirred in her sleep, then whispered, “Kellen?”

Not Bromir. Not another man’s name. Me. She called me.

“I must prepare the provisions for our hike.”

She stretched gently, smiling softly. “Five more minutes,” she said, curling closer to me.

I smiled softly. “Very well. Five more minutes.”

She drifted off to sleep once more, nestled in my arms. I closed my eyes.

Mother Gaia, please let her be free. Please let her be free so I can make her mine.

Lying here for a time, listening to her breathing, I felt a peace in my heart I had not felt in as long as I could remember.

When I felt myself slipping back to sleep, I knew it was time to force myself out of my dream and get ready.

If anything were to work, it would be a visit to the Moonglade.

There was no more beautiful and magic-filled place in all of Silver Vale.

Fernella’s writings indicated that the small white berries that grew on the moonshine plant were potent in helping one see the past and, sometimes, even the future.

They had been primarily used in spiritual rites for dryads, but in a case like Sylvie’s, they would surely help.

I stirred once more, gently moving my arm from under her.

“Too early to hike. You dryads are so…active,” she said with a drowsy laugh.

“But it must be done all the same, and we are late now. I will need to pack provisions so we can spend the night.”

“I blame the chestnut ale. Ugh, sleeping in the forest again ,” she said softly as she drifted back to sleep. After a long moment, she added groggily and with a soft laugh, “And here I thought I was home.”

My stomach knotted instantly. She was feeling it too. How was this possible?

Mother Gaia, please let it be.

Working quickly, I made my way around the cottage, packing up the necessary provisions.

We could be there before nightfall if we left within the hour, going at a slower pace to accommodate Sylvie.

The hollow trees did not lead to the Moonglade.

The forest carefully guarded its most sacred secret.

And here I was, planning to take a stranger there.

What if she was among the many thieves who came for the Moonshine plant? I would be leading her right to it.

But she wasn’t. I knew that deep in my heart.

Sylvie woke a short while later and began making ready. “Let me help,” she said, joining me at the counter as I wrapped bread and cheese.

We worked side by side, preparing the food. A gentle, calm quietness to our togetherness touched my heart. When we were done, she paused at the window, pulling her fingers through her hair to brush it, then pulled it into a long braid.

I paused to watch her.

She smiled at me. “I’m a wreck. I don’t know what I usually look like, but I know I look better than this.”

“You look beautiful.”

“Liar.”

Turning, I went to the last resident in my bed, who had not yet stirred. “Well, Marvelle. Let me see that foot,” I told the squirrel, sitting down on the bed beside the animal. He yawned and stretched, but let me examine him all the same.

I nodded. “You will come with us,” I told him. “The Moonglade will also be restorative for you,” I said. The raw leaves of the moonshine plant were not comparable in their healing abilities, which made the tonic so potent. A fresh leaf would set the squirrel back to the right.

Marvelle clicked in protest.

“I’ll carry a pouch. Now, let’s get some acorns and set out.”

I watched as Sylvie bent to pull on her boots. She was able to fix them herself with only a little noticeable wince of pain. The tonics were working. The scratch on her face had healed completely. Now, all we had to do was mend her mind.

Working together, we soon gathered everything we needed. I hoisted my pack onto my back. When I went to grab the satchel of food and water, Sylvie took it from me and strapped it bandolier-style across her body.

“I’ll take that. Have to pull my weight.”

“You are recovering. If you grow tired?—”

“I’ll tell you.”

I nodded, then held out my hand to Marvelle, who was enjoying his morning acorn. Setting the creature on my shoulder, we made our way outside. Closing the door to the cabin behind me, I paused a moment.

Closing my eyes, I lifted my hands and spoke the protective spell over the cottage.

The deep forest magic rose from the ground below me, filling me with magical green energy, which I set on the house.

The charm would protect the cottage from discovery by outsiders but also from fire, falling branches, or anything else that might go wrong—including the vengeance of brownies.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the magic had worked. The cottage seemed to waver in the sunlight like you might see on a flat stone on a hot summer day.

“Ready,” I said, then turned back to Sylvie, who was looking from me to the cottage. She had a thoughtful expression on her face and then looked down at her hands. “What is it?”

“I felt your magic and… I remembered something.”

“What?”

“Using my magic through my hands,” she said, turning her hands over. “I remember evoking my Sylvan gifts in that manner. But for what purpose—” she shook her head—“I can’t recall.”

“It will come to you.”

She smiled softly. “Soon, I hope. I’m getting very late for…something.”

At that, we both laughed.

“Then let’s not delay more,” I told her, and we set off again.

As we hiked through the forest, we had idle conversations about the beauty of the color of the autumn leaves, the unique songs of songbirds in the woods, and the many beautiful butterflies.

I saw the shyer creatures of the forest lingering, watching as we passed.

The fairies hid in a thicket of briar roses, eyeing Sylvie carefully.

Small wood sprites who helped me tend the forest looked out from behind leaves and logs, shifting their colors to blend in with the landscape.

They watched, but I could tell they were not afraid.

“The forest is very alive,” Sylvie said, looking up at the aspen leaves, which had given a slight shiver as we passed. “I don’t remember Greenspire, but it feels the same.”

“Much like Greenspire and Woodsong, Silver Vale is a living place. The tree roots entwine with the plants, the mycelium, and more, and they work symbiotically to maintain its well-being and its magic.”

“It’s beautiful. It feels like home.”

“All Sylvans, like dryads, are drawn to the forest. We heal there. Even if we leave for a time, we are always drawn back.”

“Sometimes on the back of a runaway horse.”

Kellen laughed. “Yes. Indeed.”

“And any sign of the noble steed who led me straight into your lap?” Sylvie asked.

I looked over my shoulder at her, pleased to see a playful smirk on her face.

“None from the brownies, who are unreliable no matter how guilty they feel. So I’ve asked the other eyes in the forest to search.”

“Yes, other eyes,” she said, looking toward the leaves overhead. “I feel them… But no trolls, I hope.”

“Trolls? Well, they only like to eat cheese and Sylvans. So…” I replied with a grin, glancing at the satchel she carried.

“Very funny, dryad,” she replied, giving me a wry smile, her blue eyes sparkling.

I winked at her, making her giggle.

We walked throughout the day, stopping by a stream to drink water and have a few bites of food, then carried on.

When we began winding the narrow path up the mountain to Moonglade, the sun began to set.

The whole forest glowed with golden light.

When we were high enough, we could see the vista Silver Vale, the massive trees, mountains, waterfalls, and winding rivers.

“It’s beautiful,” Sylvie said, eyes scanning the landscape. “I’m winded, but it’s beautiful.”

I took her hand, catching back the words I wanted to pour from my mouth, spouting off about her beauty like some tavern bard. “We’re almost there.”

Taking one last look, she nodded, then turned back. We made our way up the narrow slope, turning off the path that led to the summit toward an unseen and unbroken path hidden behind a jumble of rocks.