Secrets by Starlight, page 17
The incredibly helpful Bramm disappeared into the night when the police arrived. At least we wouldn’t have to explain a leprechaun. The ancient coin harboring the presence disappeared with him.
For his part, DJ had been stunned into silence. Sarah and I herded him toward Covett House with us while Sheldon dealt with the police. We left him insisting he was not about to press charges on the woman who’d tied him up in the middle of a psychotic episode. After all, his friends had shown up and everything had turned out fine. He didn’t have a scratch to show for it.
Somehow, I doubted that. I had bumps and bruises, and no one had tied me up.
“Don’t worry about Sheldon,” Sarah told me with a wink as we left through the back door. “He’s a fast talker.”
The police seemed to be accepting his story, and his claim that he had no idea why Deija would target him. He suspected it had something to do with the recent death of her friend, and he was worried for her.
“Is he anything else? I can’t take any more surprises. He’s not from that place, Afalon, is he?”
“No, dear. Sheldon is exactly what he appears. And he’s always been the most dependable of friends.”
He’d understood what we were dealing with, and he hadn’t been surprised. He was obviously in on the paranormal secrets of this town.
They were going to have to make me a list of who knew what. I couldn’t keep it straight anymore and was beginning to suspect the list of locals who didn’t know about the garden would be shorter.
Outside, the blue dome of the sky faded into purple over the woods. Bright oranges and pinks streaked along the western horizon.
DJ paused and looked up. He smiled at us and said, “Nice to see you.” He veered to the right and left us standing there behind the museum as he crossed Agate Street.
“Perfect,” Sarah murmured. “Always surprises me when Bramm can do anything right.”
“Bramm?” I pursed my lips. I was just asking about him – I had no desire to call him to me again. I was still peeved that he’d shown up late, after the danger had passed.
“Bramm has a certain influence over humans’ short-term memories. You all are quite suggestible, you know.”
I peered into her owlish gaze. “You have to be kidding me with this shapeshifting stuff. Maybe Bramm spelled me into thinking I saw you turn into a—”
“Griffin.” She shrugged as we stepped onto the Covett House back porch. “It’s good you know now. Wasn’t easy to give you clues without revealing myself.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“As if you’d accept that the innocent old woman living across the street turns into a mythical creature that can fly and fight?”
“I never would have called you innocent,” I said under my breath.
“Heard that.” She opened the door for me, and we crossed the threshold of what had turned out to be one mysterious house after all. I had a feeling I didn’t know the half of it.
The moon would be rising now. I had a few hours left to prepare. And to pack.
It wasn’t until I’d wrapped my hands around a warm mug of fragrant hot chocolate, with a kick of cinnamon, that I suddenly looked up. “Does Marty know?”
Sarah shook her head. “The power only visits one Griffin at a time. I’m still capable. Rose and I were a great team. And it’s probably best for me to stay for now, until you know what you’re doing.”
“What do you mean stay? Do you die when you lose the power?” I almost burst into tears at the thought. I seriously could not handle that.
“No.” She held up a hand and gave a weary chuckle. “No. I won’t die, hon. Good lord.”
“Oh. Man. You freaked me out.” I steadied myself with a drink from my mug.
“When the power passes, I will lose something I’ve loved about my life. You think it’ll be cupcakes and rainbows to give up the power of flight?”
“Of course not.” I could see how she’d feel. Scratch that. I knew nothing, and tonight had proven it.
“But you’re right. It’s time for fresh blood. I will begin to set the transition in motion, but it’ll be a few months at the very least. You’re brand new, you’ll need a little hand holding yet.”
“Great.” I ignored that comment and frowned over my hot chocolate. “I don’t want to keep things from Marty. They’re my best friend in Crescent Bay.”
“We’ll have time to discuss this later. Tonight’s drama…this sort of thing happens, but not all that frequently. We have to be here just in case. You saw a little slice of what’s possible tonight.”
The ceremony in the moon garden made more sense when I thought about it that way. We stood between the garden and the entities that might use it for some dark purpose. The rituals kept the garden warded and kept its guardians tied to it. That felt a lot more real after what I’d seen tonight. Guarding the moon garden wasn’t without risk. It wasn’t all cupcakes and rainbows and moon-bright blossoms.
I met Sarah’s eyes. “At least there’s more than just me. That’s a comfort.” A grin spread across my face. “I can’t fight.”
Sarah laughed and took another sip of cinnamon-spiked hot chocolate.
Oddly, I felt less alone than I had in a long time.
The silvery gates beckoned as I made my way down the moonlit path to the garden. The star-speckled sky was clear, the full moon hung right above me. I still couldn’t believe this was my life as I turned my key and the gate opened for me.
A strange hush settled over the garden as I stepped inside, and then a quick rush of wind swept through. It carried voices – a hundred sweet and piping greetings and well wishes. The wind swirled around me, lifting my hair. It moved on, upward, stirring the trees as I looked up at the moon.
Otherworld gathered me in and claimed me in that moment, that welcome. It felt like coming home.
Hundreds of white blooms turned their faces toward the sky, and the water of the pond sparkled with moonlight. I imagined Nanna here, walking the shining cobblestone path, lifting her face to take in the view of the moon. I could almost feel her, almost hear her laugh.
I let myself imagine she walked beside me now.
A few of the bright cobbles just inside the gates held objects. Offerings. I gathered them up. A loose datura bloom, face still turned toward the moon. A dark feather, like that of a raven or a crow. A white pebble, smooth and flat, that fit perfectly between my fingers and reminded me of a worry stone I had when I was a girl.
It was clear these objects had been left for me to find. They were otherworld gifts, another welcome, an entreaty to fulfill my obligation. Objects of power to aid the ceremony.
Fully conscious that I followed in my grandmother’s footsteps, and her grandmother before her, I followed the shining path through the garden’s June splendor. I crossed the small footbridge, marveling at the scent of jasmine and datura that hung heavy in the air. It was a wonder no one had smelled their way to the moon garden in all these years. But maybe you couldn’t smell it from the path outside. Maybe the gates marked the border of a liminal space between this world and the other that governed even the scents in the air.
Though it was past midnight, it was bright enough that I could see figures gathered, on two legs and four, and some with tall bunny ears, near Grisel’s willow.
They watched as I approached. Many bowed their heads to me, but no one spoke. I saw the great silvery stag, antlers illuminated like a crown. And there was Bramm next to him, his hat clutched to his chest and a look of reverence on his face that made me gulp against a fresh bout of anxiety.
Grisel gave me a reassuring smile and blinked at me, as if to say, Go on then, child.
I felt like a child here, taking my first steps toward an incomprehensible future. The possibilities were bright as the glorious orb above us. I lifted my face and regarded the mother moon in silence.
I let my fears fall away. Recalling the words I’d studied earlier, I stepped forward in trust of what I could never truly understand.
I moved on faith.
Passing Grisel’s willow, I realized I’d never been this deep in the garden before. I should have explored more…
And there was time. Plenty of time.
I smiled. The path between Grisel and the small ring of standing stones at the edge of the pond wasn’t long, just a dozen steps or so. My otherworld mentors all watched, and I felt them at my back, supporting me, protecting me. Some of the smaller animals, the rabbits and squirrels, and a pair of raccoons, followed on the path’s border, and took positions around the stones. Bramm and the stag stayed with Grisel, whose eyes reflected the moonlight. The shining path ended at the ring of standing stones.
A lower pillar stood at the center of the ring of stones. I stepped over to it and placed the objects I’d gathered just inside the gates on top of the pillar. The white pebble and the datura bloom shone, reflecting the ripe moon above. The inky black feather seemed to soak in their light, anchoring the power of the stone circle into the earth below. I felt it happen, a slight electric charge in the air inside the ring.
Acceptance.
Wonder.
I blinked at the fanciful thought. But this was a fancy situation if ever I’d stepped into one.
I took a deep breath and a hush fell over the garden.
Into that silence, I lifted my voice.
* * *
As above, so below
Bright does your protection flow
May the gates stand sturdy here
Reflect your passage, like a mirror
Waning light shall carry true
The power deepens, ever new
In your light I bind my faith
I pledge myself to your sweet grace
As above, so below
As I say, shall it be so.
* * *
The hush dispelled and the surrounding animals chattered, lifting their voices in an echo of my pledge. I heard laughter, and that strange otherworldly wind swept through the stones, carrying the raucous goodwill of that other place, Afalon.
I envisioned a gathering on the other side, a similar hush as they awaited my words, their renewed hope flowing as I sealed the connection between my bloodline and the garden.
They needed me. They welcomed me, in love and solidarity.
The stag left Grisel’s side and dipped his head to drink at the edge of the pond, trusting he was safe. The garden was safe.
My spirit buoyed, I stood there for a long moment, eyes on the moon.
Yes. I had come home.
Excited to stay in the moon garden? Do you want to know what happened to Thomas after Nanna’s death? Here’s a treat that might be your catnip — a free short story from the cat’s perspective!
Thomas in Afalon
Also by J.R. Pearse Nelson
Aeon Society Fantasy Romance Series
Storm Crossing
Magic Reigns
Visions of Flame
Beyond the Walls
Forged Alchemy
Tested Virtues
Of the Blood Fantasy Romance Series
Sworn by Blood
The Risen Goddess
Darkest Skies
Sacred Guardian
Shield in Shadows
Foulweather Twins Fantasy Trilogy
Queen Witch
Chaos Calling
The Unseen Mirror
Water Rites Fantasy Trilogy
Water Rites
Crestfallen
Castle and Crown
Short Stories
My short fiction can be read in any order…
Mother Mala’s Kitchen
Samhain Born
Fly Straight and True
Dragon Dead by Natural Causes
Elle-Maid Will Make You Pay
In the Arms of Night
About the Author
J.R. Pearse Nelson is a fantasy and romance writer who has authored more than 15 novels. She hails from Oregon, USA, where she lives with her husband, two daughters and two dogs among the plentiful trees and clouds of the beautiful Willamette Valley. J.R. weaves tales rooted in mythology, bringing legend to life in modern-day settings and fantasy realms. When not writing, you can find her making magic in the kitchen and enjoying long walks or “rambles” outdoors. J.R.’s books include the Aeon Society fantasy romance series, the Of the Blood fantasy romances, and the Water Rites fantasy series.
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You can connect with J.R. and learn more about her fiction at her website. Visit jrpearsenelson.com.
J.R. Pearse Nelson, Secrets by Starlight
