Moon's Flower: A tale of Hidden Kingdom Read online

  Not tonight.

  Tonight he needed to see beauty. Needed to see that which could only come from the sun. And as the idea formed in his thoughts, so too did it coalesce into the sky. The darkness rolled away like fog over a moor and his world was suddenly alive with light.

  Thousands upon thousands of pinpricks of buttery, golden light, setting his soul at peace.

  The lights danced and twirled through a verdant garden of lush green. Thick carpets of moss climbed up the sides of gnarled and knotty, ancient oaks. A gossamer haze enveloped the forest, combined with the fiery bursts of glimmering luminescence; he knew immediately where his desires had led him.

  Jericho was spying on the Fairy Forest.

  Bulbous mushroom caps in varying shades of the rainbow littered the forest floor. For a while he lost himself, watching the hundreds of fairies flitting to and fro.

  Some were swinging within thick green vines and any part of it they touched sprouted a miniature flower. Others were racing upon the backs of snails, wearing shells for hats and green leaves for dresses, pumping their fists as they cried and hollered to go faster.

  Many flitted through the air on large butterfly wings with a drunken leer on their faces. Bonfires were ablaze throughout the garden, some of them green, others blue, red or purple.

  It was chaos and life and slowly he felt his spirits restored as he gazed upon their tiny, happy faces.

  Then he spied a fairy acting very differently than the others. Dressed in a silken gown of white, she hugged something to her chest. She was so small, it was difficult to make out her features.

  Cocking his head, he leaned over the railing as far as he could, trying to decipher the meaning of her actions.

  None of the other fairy’s even spared her so much as a glance. Even so she seemed anxious, nervous even. Zipping in between trees, remaining hidden behind a branch, before moving onto the next.

  The whole thing was bizarre and gave him pause, long enough that it took him a moment to realize the fairy garden scene was no longer before him. It was just that little fairy with the bundle in her hands.

  After several tense minutes, she finally paused against the base of a tree. Licking her rosebud lips before—with a grin— she planted a hard kiss on the bundle she’d been carrying.

  At first he imagined it was a fairy child she’d been holding in her arms, but as the scene before him grew into focus he realized the shape was actually a large, brown seed bulb.

  Jumping into the air, she flitted off, still holding on tight to her package. In no time she was in a meadow. The moon’s glow reflected off the surface of the dark, gurgling brook beside her. A silvery haze was draped across the area, making it appear as though she were walking on clouds as she descended to the forest floor.

  Bored, Jericho was just about to return back to his perusal of the fairy garden, when a blinding flash of light hugged her body, obscuring her form.

  Squinting against the brightness, he blinked his eyes as his vision readjusted, completely unprepared for the sight before him now.

  No longer was she a tiny, flitting fairy. She was a woman with a woman’s curves. Large ivory wings undulated gracefully behind her back. The white dress she’d been wearing he now realized was actually made up of thousands upon thousands of white rose petals.

  Her body was long and slender, willowy, he thought might actually be the right word. Her face was more angular than Siria’s, but no less pretty. There was an innocence in her startling blue eyes. Waves of chestnut hair spilled down her back, coming to a point right above the juncture where back met bottom and something he’d thought long dead in him began to stir.

  Licking his lips, Jericho inhaled.

  The scenes, the images before him were so real. Sometimes he got lost in them, forgetting that while he could see the world below, the rest of his senses were deprived.

  But he could imagine that if he smelled the air hovering around her it would be dripping with the rosy scent of petals. A gentle breeze ruffled the ends of her hair and swayed through the branches above her head.

  Frowning, she tipped her face up and his heart sped because he felt the press of her eyes. She was looking at him.

  Well, not right at him. She was looking at the moon.

  Involuntarily he reached out his hand, maybe from some deep-seated need to grab hold of her, to hang on, to keep her looking his way.

  With her face tipped up the way it was, he could pretend, even for a little while, that she was actually looking at him—Jericho. That she saw him. Not the craggy cliffs of his moon, but the man behind it.

  Swallowing hard, he felt trapped by the weight of her gentle gaze. Those big blue eyes were so radically opposed to Siria’s. There was no agenda, no hidden meaning dwelling behind them, simply curiosity, and he felt his own brows twitch in response.

  Could she feel his stare? Even across space and time? Was such a thing even possible? He’d studied many in his life and none had ever seemed to notice…

  But the spell was soon broken. With a little sigh, she opened the palm of her hand and gazed down at the bulb inside.

  He wanted to scream at her to look back at him. But she wouldn’t hear him. No one ever heard him. No one but Siria, and he couldn’t abide the thought of her intruding on this moment.

  Heart speeding in his chest, he watched as each step she took upon the bed of emerald green grass bloomed into a trail of purple flowered vines.

  Holding her hands up to her mouth, she pressed them to her lips and it seemed to him as if she were cooing at the seed. A look of delight spread across her face, lit through the icy beauty of her eyes and made her already beautiful—almost alien-like features—radiant.

  The creature had literally begun to glow. Light poured off her in waves, pooling at her feet in a golden puddle.

  Palms sweat slickened, he gripped the railing tighter, completely transfixed as she knelt down and passed her hand across the bed of grass, upturning it to reveal the rich soil beneath.

  Placing one final kiss onto the bulb, she buried it, patting the soil back into place.

  And that’s when something strange began to happen inside of him.

  First he felt warmth, sliding like sweat soaked fingers up his legs in a gentle, almost erotic caress.

  Mouth going dry, he frowned as the warmth turned into a fiery kiss. As if someone had taken flame to him. It didn’t hurt, but there was a lot of pressure. Like something were being ripped from him from the inside out.

  Glancing down at himself, he watched as his body suddenly exploded in a silvery-purple sheen of light. This had never happened to him before, he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening to him now.

  He knew if he asked Siria about it tomorrow, she’d probably know. No doubt this had happened to other men in the moon in the past, but the thought of asking her for help sat like bile in his throat.

  Running his fingers across his palm he smiled as the light swirled, coalescing into a tight ball of dense matter, growing bigger and bigger in his hand, pouring out of him until he was no longer glowing. All the light was now trapped within the sphere he held.

  He’d glowed many times before, but not this shade, and not like this, where the light was literally being pulled out of him.

  Frowning, he turned back to her image, sucking in a sharp, almost painful breath because she was looking back up at him again.

  This time there was a worried frown pinching the corners of her doe shaped eyes. She looked like she was waiting for something…

  Jericho looked back at the ball in his hand, then back at her, before understanding finally dawned.

  Whatever this light was that’d come off him, she’d called it forth. Licking his lips, he held his hand out over the railing. Nothing happened.

  Twisting his lips, he watched her again. She was definitely worried now. It was obvious by the way she chewed on her lower lip as she idly patted the mound of dirt where she’d placed the seed.

  “Maybe if I…�
� he said, and tipped his hand over so that the sphere fell out. It fell through the sky, as if in slow motion, heading straight for her and as it did it turned from a ball into a sphere of radiant silver-purple light.

  ~*~

  Calanthe had stolen the seed. She shouldn’t have done it, if the head mistress discovered her thievery she’d be in big, big trouble. But tonight was almost a full moon.

  It was the perfect time to seed.

  The moon flower rarely ever grew, in fact, it was so rare as to be just another tale in a land full of them. But under the right conditions the fairy seer—Miriam the Delighted—had promised that it would. Only the light of a nearly ripe moon on the thirtieth day of the month could bring the treasure forth.

  Calanthe was a flower fairy, the need to discover a new genus of flora was an almost obsessive compulsion. Surely Galeta the Blue would understand. Of course, sneaking into the head mistresses’ home while she was away in a far off land was probably not going to earn her much in the way of sympathy should she get caught.

  Biting onto her lower lip yet again, nearly breaking the flesh in her anxiety that the moon do as it aught, she held her breath with breathless anticipation.

  Casting a worried glance over her shoulder at the booming snap of a twig, she jumped to her feet. June—her garden mate—stepped into the clearing.

  With her nearly glowing orange curls escaping the snail shell fixed firmly upon her head it was obvious she was a snail fairy. Brown moth’s wings buzzed almost angrily behind her back as she tapped her barefoot in a manner as if to say, “you’ve been caught.”

  Yanking on her tree bark dress, she crossed her arms over her chest, and fixed stormy gray eyes on Calanthe’s face. June shook her head. “What have you done, Calanthe?”

  Rushing up to her friend, she yanked on June’s hand, dragging her behind as she ran back to her mound. “June you can’t tell anybody, do you hear me?”

  Shaking her head even harder, June tried to yank out of Calanthe’s grip, but fear made her stronger than usual. The snail fairy could not budge.

  “I knew when I couldn’t find you at the races that you’d done it. All those years of defiantly telling any and all that one day you’d steal the moon seed…” She sighed and rubbed her nose, “Calanthe, do you understand that Galeta will have your head for this? She is not a fairy to be messed with.”

  But Calanthe was no longer listening because there was a definite rush of air coming at them. Twirling her head, her eyes widened as the electrifying beauty as the moon’s bolt descended from the heavens, slamming into the mound at her feet.

  The towering trees to either side of them swayed dangerously.

  A slow smile spread across Calanthe’s face as the buzz of excitement built and spread within her very bones.

  “Cal—”

  “Ssh!” Calanthe snapped a finger over her lips, shushing June, then pointed at the mound. She’d waited to see this her whole life. She’d not waste a precious moment of it blathering on about what a terrible idea this was.

  Obviously it was stupid and if she was caught, well… it wouldn’t go good for her no doubt, but none of that mattered.

  “Oh, June, look,” she breathed as the first buds of green shot through the dirt.

  Clenching each others fingers tight, the girls jumped back as the land beneath their feet began to buckle and sway. Heart pounding, and a jubilant cry trapped in her throat, Calanthe watched as the buds turned to stems. Then to stems with heavy bulbs on the top, until finally, finally a bloom.

  The flower unfurled ever so slowly, as if knowing how very special it was. Eyes wide, mouth curved into a tiny “o”, Calanthe inhaled the sweet, indescribable fragrance of the moon flower.

  In all her years, and granted she’d not had many, Calanthe had seen thousands upon thousands of flowers. From the wonderful talking blooms of Wonderland, to the exotic waxy petals of eastern Kingdom that dripped myrrh and honey. She’d even once held the bloom of the bell heart from the Seren Seas. But she’d never seen anything so perfect as this one.

  “Calanthe,” June whispered, as if she too were entranced by the ephemeral beauty.

  This flower was unlike any she’d ever seen. Star shaped, it sparkled like glass infused with stardust, the bloom itself was the silvery-purple of moonlight.

  Dropping to her knees, Calanthe bent forward and began to croon at it.

  “You are such a wonder, little flower.” She trailed her finger across its glassy surface, delighted to feel that not only was it smooth, but also surprisingly very warm to the touch.

  Lost in a daze, she crooned and caressed it over and over until something strange happened.

  “June?” she squeaked when it first happened.

  “What?” Her friend knelt down beside her, the worried scowl back on her face.

  Wondering if maybe she’d imagined the shiver, she shook her head and began running her fingers along it again. “I thought that maybe—”

  She didn’t get to finish her sentence, because this time the flower most definitely shivered, almost violently.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she giggled with delight. “It did, it trembled. Did you see it?” She grinned at her friend, who wasn’t even looking at the flower, but back over her shoulder.

  “Calanthe, as much as I adore you and you know that I do, we really must return. If anyone else discovers we are missing they’ll come searching and if they come searching they’ll find us and—”

  “Bloody hell, June,” Calanthe rolled her eyes, “I hardly think this the death sentence you seem inclined to believe it is. If anyone should come they’ll see a flower fairy playing with a flower.”

  “Unlike any known to man or beast!” June shot to her feet, and growled as she stomped her foot. “We cannot stay. And I do not like that… thing!” She pointed angrily at the flower. “It is not natural.”

  “Anymore natural than a talking flower you mean?” Calanthe snapped and instantly felt contrite when June wrapped her arms around her waist. Sighing loudly, shoulders drooping as all fight left her, Calanthe whispered, “Then go.” Standing, she dusted her hands upon her dress. “I am not angry with you and I do not wish to get you into any trouble. But please, just keep my secret. Please.” Lacing her fingers together, she implored her dearest friend.

  “Calanthe. Please, just come.”

  Giving June a tight-lipped smile, she shook her head. “I’ve waited my whole life to see this, you know I can’t.”

  But as she turned to gaze down at her most prized treasure her heart fractured and a wounded cry spilled from her throat.

  “Oh no!” Sinking to her knees, she cupped the flower in her hand, trying unsuccessfully, to hold it together. But it was literally dying in front of her. The precious flower was wilting at an alarming rate. The petals were turning an ugly shade of brown, curling up at the edges. The mirrored surface turned dull, opaque and then, in just a matter of seconds, it was gone.

  Nothing but a scattered pile of dead petals lay at her feet.

  June’s hand clamped onto her shoulders. “Calanthe, at least you can say you saw it. That is more than most will ever get.”

  The joy of getting to witness its birth soon gave way to the heart-wrenching ache from its death. Rubbing the spot of her heart, Calanthe gazed up at the moon. She couldn’t explain it, could barely even understand why it hurt so bad. She’d witnessed many flowers die, it was the natural cycle of life, and yet this one had physically hurt to witness.

  Unshed tears burned behind her eyes. Knuckling at her left eye she sniffed.

  “I waited my whole life to see that, and now it’s gone,” she turned to June.

  June’s face tightened into a frown. “There will be more, Calanthe, there always is.”

  “No,” she whispered, knowing in her heart that what she’d witnessed tonight had been nothing short of a miracle.

  There would never be another flower like this. Because this hadn’t just been a flower to her, it’d been pos
sibility and wonder and something so grand and majestic even she could hardly begin to describe it.

  Touching the petals, it’d been like touching a soul. A soul she ached for, craved.

  No, nothing would ever compare to the moon flower, she knew that with every fiber of her being.

  ~*~

  Gasping, body quaking and shivering, Jericho closed his eyes, swallowing gasping a lungful of air.

  She was leaving him. The light was surrounding her again, her and her friend. In no time they’d shrunken down to miniature and flew off, but he could no longer follow her.

  His body was to weak to even hold itself up. Slumping to the ground beneath him, he rested his elbow on his knee and wondered what had just happened.

  Because as impossible as it was to believe, he’d felt her touch. The silken glide of her fingers all over him. Her whispered words as she’d spoken directly to the flower, it’d caressed the shell of his ear and he’d been awash in her heady scent of roses.

  Calanthe was her name.

  Closing his eyes, body burning, yearning for the erotic caress of her touch yet again, he wished he’d been strong enough to stay there. But with the death of his flower, he’d been snapped back to this godforsaken existence of stone and darkness.

  Somehow, someway, Jericho would find her.

  He would make her his.

  Chapter 3

  “Oooohhhh,” a choir of girlish giggles escaped the children as they clapped their hands, pointing at Danika. “How romantic,” several of them murmured all at once.

  “Did he find her, Dani?” the little primrose asked, as several sets of eyes locked in on Danika.

  Smiling, she shrugged. “Well I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, no?”

  “Oh, I hope he found her,” the calalily crooned. “I want him to kiss her and woo her and…”

  An eruption of giggles resounded and Danika had to clap her hands to regain order. “Enough ladies, if you carry on like a bunch of squawking baboons I’ll never be able to finish this tale. Now do you want to hear more or not?”