Clementine

I sit patiently on the same fallen log that Flynne had yesterday. My eyes dance over the forest floor, taking in the moss and leaf-littered ground that spread over the land for hundreds of acres. Birds flit about overhead, singing joyfully as they each gather supplies for nests, and the hoot of a nearby owl echoes throughout the trees like the bass undertones of the Woodland Band.

There’s a rustle of movement in a bush as a cinnamon-red fox emerges from its green leaves.

“Hey Flynne!” I reach into my skirt pocket with one hand and grope for the gold coins I brought from home.

She stands Up and smiles. “Why hello, Girl-Who-Drank-Six-Ounces-of-Antidote,” she says wryly. “How’s your stomach, by the way? Overdoses can be really bad, actually.”

“I’m fine. Once I got home I had a few gallons of water,” I joke.

“Ah, so you take everything in extremes, then,” Flynne says, sitting on the floor across from me. “Not just medicine.”

“Ha,” I say dryly, pulling out my coins and presenting them to her. “Here’s your money. Sorry again for drinking it all.”

Flynne’s eyes widen as she catches sight of the gold. “You’re giving that to me?”

“Uh, yeah, remember your ‘healer’s fee’? What, did you not expect me to pay you back?”

“No, but…” Flynne reaches out and takes the coins, staring at them with an unreadable expression twisting her features. “That’s too much. Way too much.” She pockets a single coin and returns the rest. “Even one is too much. Your currency in Moonflower Valley is way different than in the Southern Glade.”

“Oh really?” I ask, putting my money back.

“Yeah. Over there, we use copper and silver coins, and one gold coin is worth nearly fifty sterlings.”

“Sterlings?”

“That’s the name of our currency,” Flynne explains.

I frown. “I feel like I should’ve known that,” I say, unimpressed with myself.

“Probably,” Flynne agrees. “Anyway, thanks for that!” She pats her pocket, an impish smile on her face. “So what do you want to do? I have all day to run around the forest.”

My eyes light up. “Really? I’ve actually never ventured much farther than this,” I admit. “I was kind of scared of getting lost. Or kidnapped. Or mugged,” I add thoughtfully.

“I see… Hey Clementine, are you up for a little adventure? I have something really cool I wanna show you, but we’ll have to travel farther than here.”

I grin. “Hey, as long as you know where you’re going.”

Flynne returned my smile and dropped to All-Fours. “Follow me.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“That’s Abelia,” Flynne whispers. “She’s the mother of all the trees in the Black Forest.”

We’re crouched behind a large boulder, holding our breath as the giant tree spirit caresses a sick tree with loving hands. The leaves are shriveled, brown, and molding; the trunk is weak and started to cave in on itself, and several branches are hanging limp; splintered where they broke off of the tree and touching the ground.

“Whenever there’s a sick tree, or if one gets struck by lightning,” Flynne explains, “she sends one of her children to take care of it until it gets better.”

“So how come she’s here herself?”

“That’s a Moonflower Ancient.”

My heart nearly stops as I register the information. Moonflower Ancients have been around since the dawn of time. There used to be millions of them all throughout the land, but they were cut down and used for their magic. Only a few hundred remain. Their roots reach down and outwards for thousands of acres, tapping into the land’s magic, and between them and Kaynak, the god of magic and time, they provide all the magic in the world. For all I know, without Moonflower Ancients the world would stop spinning. Up would become down; left would become right.

“Who knew there would be one so close to the Valley,” I breath, almost to myself. “When did it get like this?”

“This one has been sick for a while, now,” Flynne sighs. “I’m not sure if it’ll get better or not.”

We stand there in silence, watching Abelia sit beside the tree. There’s a loud thud from behind us, and we turn just in time to see five smaller, younger-looking versions of the tree spirit behind us heading our way. I freeze, gazing up at the spirits with reverent wonder and awe. They step over us like we’re pebbles to reach Abelia.

They’re so small in comparison to her—even sitting she’s taller than her children. They join hands and begin to… sing?

“What are they doing?” I ask Flynne.

She shakes her head, her eyes never leaving them. “I’m not sure…”

A beautiful, deep, and earthy rumble rustles the trees. The wind starts up. The bark of the Moonflower Ancient glows; intricate designs of vines, flowers, and leaves reveal themselves with a beautiful silvery blue glow. Flowers sprout and bloom as far as I can see, their seeds activated by the magical voices of the tree spirits.

The Moonflower Ancient begins to shake and shiver, its dead leaves falling off and the sick branches turning to silver magic essence. More and more of the tree begins to disappear as the spirits sing, until all that remains is the trunk. A giant cloud of magic hangs over the forest as I hold my breath. Are they destroying the Ancient? Did they decide that it’s too far gone—that its life is over?

I look at Flynne, whose eyes hold a distraught energy within.

The entire forest seems to hold its breath. Even the tree spirits stopped singing. The cloud of Moonflower Ancient magic begins to twirl—slowly at first, until it funnels into a whirlwind of magic. Wind grabs at my fur as the mini tornado picks up speed, growing longer and thinner until its thin finger touches the tip of the Ancient—

A blinding flash of ancient magic makes me look away as the force of the two energies collide, sending a blast of wind that ripples the trees and grasses. As the light fades, I peer at where the Moonflower Ancient used to be, expecting to find an empty, scorched space. What’s there instead made my spirits soar.

The trunk of the Ancient stands there, reaching high into the air with a single branch left. Leaves and flower buds and moss grow at exaggerated speeds, unfurling and blooming and blanketing the bark so that it almost looks as though it had never been sick. Abelia wraps the Ancient in a leafy embrace, and her magic pulses between them.

I look over at Flynne, who’s…

“Are you crying?” I ask her.

She snaps to attention and wipes her face with her paws. “Of course not,” she snaps. “Don’t be an idiot, Clementine.”

“Hey, it’s okay to cry,” I say seriously.

She growls and pounces on me, and we tousle on the ground for a minute, play fighting, before she jumps up and runs away. I snort as I race after her.

Classic fox.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The crash of the waterfall fills my ears as I sit on the mossy forest floor, tying small flowers together into mini bouquets. The last few hours were wild. Flynne showed me numerous tunnels, caves, open fields of tall grass, and even a sentient horse-shaped boulder that turned out to be an earth spirit. I’m not sure how far we went, (or how many sore areas I’ll have tomorrow morning) but I’m happy to say that I haven’t been lazing around today.

At all.

Now we both sit peacefully on the ground. I braided my short, lavender hair, and Flynne, who I’ve gathered is not one to partake in many common female interests—even with her beautiful hair—is sharpening her shooting stars, which are traditional South Pack weapons. At the moment, she’s telling me what makes them so special.

“We may have invented them,” Flynne is saying, “but other kingdoms have made their own weapons inspired by ours. They’re not nearly as good, though,” she smirks, “because ours are made of melted stardust.”

My eyebrows quirk in surprise. “Really? How’d you guys get your hands on a fallen star?”

She smirks mischievously at me. “Now that is a secret I can’t tell you just yet,” she remarks, “but I can tell you what the stardust does.”

I nod, prompting her to move along.

“The stardust’s power creates a magical tether between the weapon and the warrior,” Flynne explains, gripping one between her thumb and forefinger. “So when I throw a star, it reappears in my pocket. Watch.” She leans back a little and thrusts the weapon into the woods, where I can hear it land in a tree with a dull thunk.

The cat in me tells me to jump up and chase it (“Look! Shiny thing! Shiny thing! It moves! Go kill it!), but I’ve learned to ignore that side of me—at least when I look human—and instead I scan the tree trunks for a small, star-shaped weapon. Eventually my sharp eyes spot it, firmly sunken into an oak. I squint curiously at it, waiting for something to happen.

It glows a silver light before blinking away, and I turn my head to look at Flynne, my eyes wide. “Whoa,” I breathe. “So, they teleport? Like magical boomerangs?”

Flynne smiles. “Kinda, yeah. But way more deadly. And they only come back if I throw them or leave them somewhere. But if someone steals them…” she trails off, a grim expression on her face. “They don’t.”

“So, the magic has an attitude?” My brows quirk, amused.

Flynne laughs. “Yeah, kinda.”

I glance up at the sun where it’s started to hang low in the west and sigh. “I hate to break up the party, but I should be off,” I say, standing.

Flynne shrugs. “That’s alright. Will you be coming again tomorrow?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m helping my mom in the kitchens tomorrow. She’s the head chef in the Summer Palace,” I add.

“Ah.” I may be imagining it, but I’m fairly certain that disappointment dims her eyes. But it’s gone in a moment. “Well, have fun then. And…” She pauses, as if debating whether or not to proceed. Flynne reaches into one of many cloak pockets and pulls out a long thread of string with a blue, dried, bumpy berry tied onto the center. “This is a cloverberry bracelet,” she begins, holding it out to me. “It’s something that, um, spies in the South Pack use to stay connected over long distances. There’s a bonding ritual you can do so that two bracelets will link together, and then a thin trail of magic connects them. That way, uh, if we’re both in the forest, we’ll be able to find each other.”

She seems sort of nervous as she waits for me to take it, which is a feeling I didn’t think I’d see on her face.

“Like… friendship bracelets?” I ask, plucking it from her palm and examining it.

She shrugs indifferently. “If that’s how you’d like to interpret it.”

I grin at her as I slide the bracelet onto my wrist. The ritual turns out to be a quick enchantment, and afterwards, a thin, nearly invisible tendril of golden dust tethers the two bracelets.

“Whoa,” I breathe, passing my hand through it. “And can other people see this?”

Flynne shakes her head. “Only the wearers. And it’s stronger the farther away you are, which is how you can tell if I’m in the forest, you know?”

“Ah.” I move my arm closer to Flynne’s, where her own bracelet is, and the tendril dissipates. “So cool.”

Flynne and I say goodbye shortly after when she reminds me I have somewhere to be, and I trot off into the forest. I can’t help but look over my shoulder every now and then, admiring the golden trail behind me that gets increasingly brighter as Flynne grows farther and farther away.