The Next Full Moon by Carolyn Turgeon

Author:Carolyn Turgeon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Downtown Bookworks
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

In the late afternoon, the woods seemed so innocent and sweet, it was hard to imagine that the night before they’d been full of swans that could transform into maidens and then back again. It was hard to imagine the dark and the moon at all when the sun spilled over the leaves and down to the earth like melted butter.

The leaves flitted around the girls in a soft breeze as they wandered into the forest, following the well-worn trail that led to the creek, the same one her dad took to go fishing. Squirrels scurried up tree trunks. Acorns fell from the trees. The girls had to push back the thin branches, with leaves dangling from them like charms, as they moved along the path.

Ava tried to remember if they’d walked this path last night, she and the swan maiden Helen, but as hard as she tried, she found she couldn’t remember. Not the path they’d walked or how long it had taken them to reach the strange clearing. It seemed like every detail, in fact, was out of reach. When she tried to picture the clearing now, all she saw was a pool of water, silver and gleaming, surrounded by trees. She blinked, pushing past a branch as Morgan led them deeper into the woods. But it had been grass drenched in moonlight. Hadn’t it?

Everything from the night before seemed like a half memory, something from a dream that slipped away as soon as you woke up no matter how hard you tried to remember. She patted her backpack again to make sure she could feel the bulk within it.

Above them, the sky was bright blue.

Was her mother somewhere, watching that same sky?

Morgan stopped suddenly, under an ancient oak tree with a huge knot in its center. “Look.”

“What is it?” Ava walked up to it and peered in.

“I bet an elf lives in here,” Morgan said, scrunching up her face to look thoughtful.

Ava was about to tell her she was crazy when she caught herself. “I guess there could be an elf in there, couldn’t there?” she said.

“Yes,” Morgan said, shrugging.

Ava looked at her friend. Morgan had always believed in magical creatures, she realized, whereas Ava herself had never given them much thought. Of course, it was Morgan’s mother who’d read her stories about witches and fairies and mermaids and unicorns, Morgan’s mother who had a big herb garden filled with special plants that were supposed to bring you true love or fortune or just plain good luck. As far as Ava could tell, though, if those herbs really worked Morgan should be living in the biggest house in town, not in a sweet little clapboard house where she had to share her bedroom with her annoying younger sister, Fay.

Ava’s father had been far too practical to read her stories about fairies and the rest. He had read her stories about Tarzan and the Old West and Al Capone, and pointed out the constellations to her while talking about supernovas and black holes.

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