Perilune

By Karri Thompson

A truce has brought the Grove peace-but things are not as they appear.

Deep within a secret rainforest, live the keepers of unknown spells-a lost Landaffen colony with the po

• Language: English
• Publisher: Krutz and Ink Publishing
• Release date: Mar 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781732373143

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Y ou’re going to do what? My mother gasped, leaning across the kitchen table. Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?

I slouched in my chair. Because I wasn’t 100 percent positive until now. Why run it by you first if it wasn’t going to happen? Right?

She set her elbows on the table and blinked, looking up at the ceiling. Laura, what’s going on with you? I feel like I don’t know you anymore.

Nothing’s going on. I haven’t changed, I said.

Like all my lies, as if guilt was something tangible, the words stung my tongue, staining my good conscience. But I forced them out with a tone I hoped was genuine instead of snide.

Lying to my mother was getting old, but it had to be done. I couldn’t tell her the truth; at least not yet. And this lie―my biggest lie so far―was the only way I could live in the Grove with no questions asked. It was my duty. My calling. My fate.

I closed my eyes, and with my next breath, my chest tingled as if the air filling my lungs was laced with peppermint. Brell’s face filled my mind, his lips pale and eyes closed. The earth beneath his body bubbled and the last of many vines unfurled and withdrew as I relived that ill-fated day. I’d flexed my numb fingers, and the beams of light dimmed, retreating to where Landaffin magic stirs in the core of our souls, the laspis.

She has brought the prince from death, Gressim said, his words gently lapping against my ears with the same volume and tenor as it had when I’d knelt beside Brell, holding his limp hand.

The pink returned to Brell’s lips and cheeks. His chest rose and fell, and he opened his eyes, telling me he loved me. Without a thought or hesitation, I love you Brell, slipped from my lips naturally and uninhibited as if I’d loved him my whole life.

It was the first time I’d said it. Brell smiled, his eyes aglow from the halo of sunlight at my back. I stood, pulling him up with me, and we embraced, long and hard, his hands firmly against my body. I slipped my fingers through the tear in his blood-soaked shirt, finding the skin beneath it warm, smooth, and only slightly swollen where his deadly wound had been.

My son. My son, the king shouted. His voice grew louder and shook as if caught and hurled forward by a small breeze.

Brell’s weak legs stiffened, and I lifted my head from his shoulder, making eye contact with the king. Bay held the king’s hand in his mouth, leading him into the clearing. Sennile was at her husband’s side, sobbing into her hands. As Brell and I let go of one another, the king rushed toward us, breaking into a jog. He eyed the forest floor as the soil and leaf litter trembled and settled, leaving no sign that the earth had tried to swallow the Wventorin Prince.

The king dropped to his knees before me, clutching his hands. You have saved our son. You are The One, Laura. Your magic will bring balance to our worlds, and the humans will no longer be unmatched. It is the only way we will achieve peace living among them.

A celebration in my honor took place the following day. The sweet, acidic scent of summer-berry wine filled my nose, Landaffen music rang softly in my ears, and I was taken to the courtyard to dance with Brell, a classic Landaffen line dance called the Corle.

Including curtseys and bows, it was an elegant, dignified dance, like something from a medieval fairytale. As we let go of our partners’ hands and formed two lines, one male and the other female, facing one another, I ended up next to Thriss.

I am grateful you have saved our prince, but that still does not mean we are friends or ever will be, she whispered in my ear. My face burned.

We moved forward on cue, the two lines coming together. When it was Brell’s turn, he bent forward at the waist with one leg extended forward, and offered me his hand. As he smiled, his blue eyes gleaming brightly, the heat in my cheeks receded into my heart, warming my chest with our ever-lasting love for one another.

Laura! Mom snapped. Laura!

What? I said, and with a big exhale the scene in my head faded, leaving an empty feeling in my stomach as if I hadn’t eaten in a week.

Haven’t changed? she said, raising her voice. What happened to the straight-A- student Laura? The goal-oriented Laura? The Laura with plenty of friends? She sighed again, and I lowered my head, focusing on my glass of iced tea and the ring of water it was leaving on the table.

I’m the same. I’ll have plenty of new friends in the Grove.

I’ve been asking you for weeks what you wanted to do for your birthday, and you just kept telling me nothing. Mom’s voice wasn’t as frantic, but it still carried an accusing tone.

Dinner with you, Uncle Dean, and Phyllis is all I want. My birthday’s not that big of a deal to me anymore.

How about inviting a friend or two to join us?

No, Mom.

Counting time by the years based on the change of seasons, the Landaffens didn’t keep track of the months, days, or weeks. Because of this, everyone who was born in the same year celebrated their first breaths together at the first melt of snow. I’d be a part of that observance in the spring.

Mom shook her head. And then you wanted to drop your last period class, she continued. As much as I was against it, I signed off on it, thinking you’d use the extra time to get your grades up, like you promised, or get a part-time job.

I wanted the extra time, so I’d have three hours to hang out with Brell after school before Mom came home instead of just two. My grades are fine, I said.

Since when are you happy with Cs and Bs?

Since I realized I don’t need a 4.0 to do this.

That doesn’t mean you have to lower the standards you’ve set for yourself. I’ve always taught you to do your best no matter what. She rested her forehead in the palm of her hand and exhaled loudly.

I know, and I usually do. And I will. I’m going to put one-hundred-and-ten percent into this job.

You could get a job here.

Jobs are hard to find in this small town.

That job at the library would have been perfect. I still can’t believe Phyllis hired someone else, she said, tightening her jaw.

That job was only ten hours a week.

Mom shook her head again. And if dropping a class wasn’t enough, then you decided to graduate a semester early, forging my signature instead of asking for my permission! she huffed. Since when do you keep things from me and sneak around my back? What else have you been doing that you haven’t told me about?

Nothing. That was it! Geez, if she only knew! I crumbled with that lie, my shoulders drooping as I slid lower in my chair. Mom, we’ve already been over this. I’m sorry. I knew you’d say no, so―

You’re darn right I would have said no. She folded her arms hard across her chest.

I have more than enough credits. It’s not like I’m dropping out of school or anything. I’m just not graduating with my class.

And do you think that looks good on a college application? She crossed her legs at the knee. Oh, but then again, she continued, you aren’t going to college now. She raised her voice even more. Do you have any more bombs to drop on me? If you do, do it now, so we can get this over with.

No, that was it.

With a loud sigh, she wilted in her chair, uncrossing her arms and legs.

Mom. It’s not like I’m never going to college. I’m just putting it off for a while. I’ll enroll in the junior college as soon as I get back. I promise.

I’ll believe that when I see it. She leaned forward, putting her elbow back on the table and resting her chin in her palm. You know who’s going to be even more disappointed than me?

Who?

Your uncle Dean. You don’t know this, but he’s been putting money away every month, saving up so you can go to UMASS after you get your associate degree.

What? He doesn’t need to do that. I shifted my eyes back to my glass of iced tea.

Because of Uncle Dean, Molly had a corral and stable waiting for her when we moved here. He built it himself without charging us for his time or the materials. He’d also just bought me the coolest car ever. And now this?

Well, he doesn’t need to do it now! she snapped. And what about walking through graduation with your class? You could have done it in June, but now you’ll be in South Korea.

She dropped her hands to the table. Who put you up to this anyway? Who gave you the idea? Was it Phyllis? Her lips flattened and her eyes tightened.

I pushed back from the table. No! I thought of it myself. What makes you think it was Phyllis?

Because you’ve been spending so much time with her―more time than you have with me. Don’t you think you should be hanging out with kids your own age?

Mom, I’ve told you before. I haven’t been here long enough to make any real friends. And I’m only at the library to use their wi-fi. I’m not there to hang out with Phyllis.

Phyllis was the only person outside the Grove who knew what I was and what I was destined to do. She was also my co-conspirator when it came to helping me follow my fate. I had to spend time with her.

What about that boy, Todd? Mom asked.

You mean Odd Ninja Todd? I groaned.

Every time he shows up here, you make up some excuse and send him away. Isn’t he in one of your classes?

Yeah, English, but that doesn’t mean I want to do my homework with him. I don’t ask him to come here. Somehow, he hasn’t gotten the hint that I’m not interested. He’s a total stalker.

Maybe you should. Mom looked at me with pleading eyes.

Do what?

Do your homework with him. Turn your Cs into Bs. He’s a smart kid. He’s graduating with his class, unlike you, she added in a snippy tone while lifting her chin, and going to Harvard on a scholarship.

I know. I know, I mumbled. But it’s too late anyway. Finals start tomorrow, and I don’t need Odd Ninja Todd to help me study for those.

He’s a nice boy. I wish you’d be kinder to him. I never mentioned this to you before, but his family life is not so good, Mom said with a shake of her head. His dad ran off with another woman when he was five, and when his mother… well, let’s just say, when she’s not at work, she’s got a bottle of whiskey in her hand. And when she’s drunk, she doesn’t treat Todd very well.

Oh, I didn’t know that, I said softly.

At Phyllis’s summer barbeque, she got so hammered, poor Todd had to help her into the car and drive them home. You should have seen how embarrassed he was, especially when she started cussing at him for no reason. Poor kid.

That’s awful.

Apparently, after every one of her ‘episodes,’ she promises Todd she’ll never drink again and tries to make it up to him by taking him on a trip or buying him expensive things. So far, they’ve been promises she hasn’t been able to keep. At least that’s what I’ve heard.

I’ll be nicer to him now, I said.

Mom lowered her chin to her chest and sighed. When she lifted her head, a tear fell to her cheek. Why Korea? Why so far away? she whimpered. Can’t you pick somewhere a little closer?

Mom, I said. Pressure built behind my eyes, and I bit my lower lip. Anywhere I go will be out of the country.

Do you even know how to teach English? Just because you can speak it doesn’t mean you can teach it to someone else. She blinked her watery eyes and brushed away a tear.

I’ll be working for the TEAA, Teach English Abroad Academy. They’ll provide all the training I need. The course is online. I lowered my head. Actually, I… um… already finished my training. That’s another reason why I’ve been spending so much time at the library.

Laura, Mom sighed. This isn’t like you’re going away to college in another state. This is a big move. A big change.

I know, but you won’t need to worry about me, I assured her. The TEAA is totally accredited. They’ve been in business for over fifty years. The academy takes care of everything—all my travel, my housing, and my visa. I also get paid. I already have my training certificate. I just need my high school diploma and to turn eighteen. And since that’s tomorrow…

Mom leaned back in her chair and tightened her jaw. Is that why you waited until now to tell me about this? Because you knew that in one day, you’d be eighteen, and I wouldn’t have a say in anything you do anymore?

No, Mom. It’s not like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just have to be eighteen for them to send me to an employer out of the country. And I knew you wouldn’t like the idea, so yeah, I waited as long as I thought I could to tell you. That’s all.

So, your mind is made up? There’s nothing I can say or do to stop you? Her eyes softened, and she reached across the table for my hand.

I slipped my hand into hers, nodded, and blinked away a tear.

And what about Molly? You just expect me to take care of her for you while you’re gone? You know I don’t know anything about horses. Have you thought about that?

Yeah, I have. Phyllis said she’d board and take care of her for me. Ever since Jessup died, she’s been thinking about getting another horse, but now, she’s going to lease Molly from me while I’m gone. She’s going to pay for her feed and everything else she might need in exchange for being able to ride her.

You told Phyllis about leaving before you told me? She let go of my hand.

I didn’t plan to, I said, coming up with a quick lie. She saw what I was looking up on one of the computers at the library and figured it out. Then she offered to look after Molly for me.

Two weeks of raking up horse shit, and she’ll regret that decision.

Mom. Please. Don’t be upset with Phyllis. She’s become one of your good friends. Uncle Dean loves her, and she loves him. She’s so good to him. He needs her in his life. I pushed back in my chair. Now you know why she didn’t offer me that job at the library. She knew I wasn’t going to be here. So please, don’t be mad at her about that anymore. Okay?

Did she tell Dean? Has he also been keeping this from me? Or was this partly his idea? Mom looked away for a second. He was the one who’d suggested you could join the Peace Corps.

Uncle Dean doesn’t know. And he hasn’t said anything to me about the Peace Corps except for that one time. Don’t start getting mad at him, too, I pleaded. Phyllis promised me she wouldn’t say anything to him.

Mom glanced at the clock on the stove and scooted away from the table. I’ve got to go, she said while grabbing her purse. This is the last time I volunteer to work on a Sunday, she mumbled.

Mom, I’m sorry, I said as she opened the front door. This is my calling, helping people. This is what I was meant to do at this point in my life. It feels right. It’s something I need to do.

I know, she said from over her shoulder. I just can’t believe you’ve been working behind the scenes on this for so long, keeping it a secret from me.

I thought it would be easier this way. If I’d told you, you would have had four months to try to talk me out of it.

I stood in the door frame, looking back and forth from the tree line to her car as she drove away, giving a final wave as she turned the car around. But I doubted she saw me. Her face was fixed on the road in a hard stare, her lips turned down at their corners. When she reached the end of our driveway, she ran the back of her hand across her eyes.

I’m sorry, Mom, so sorry, I said to myself. My eyes flooded with tears, and I used the cuff of my plush, pink robe to dab them dry. I wish I could tell you the truth.

Since this was my first winter in Berkshire County and my first time in sixteen-degree weather, I wasn’t used to my robe not keeping me warm enough. My feet tingled from the nip of cold air sneaking through the thin fibers of my socks and layering two pairs of pajamas didn’t seem to make much of a difference.

Six inches of snow carpeted the ground. The trees stood leafless, their crooked branches saluting the gray, morning sky, and a small, shallow pond we didn’t know was on the property until after a heavy November rain was frozen solid.

After each snowfall, Uncle Dean came over to clear our driveway with a plow attached to the front of his old truck. Using a shovel, he’d make a path from the front door to the car, repeating the process at least twice because he ‘didn’t want his two favorite ladies to slip and fall.’

I closed the door and went back into the kitchen. Our heater growled, pushing warm, stale air through the room, leaving it smelling like hot dust, something it did the very first time my mom turned it on. After two months, it still smelled musty, although my mother said she couldn’t smell anything. My strong sense of smell was one of the perks of being a half-race.

Brell had said that over time, my Landaffen welishone, or thermostat, would also eventually kick in, and my body would subconsciously regulate itself with the weather. He’d worn a short, leather jacket when he’d said that, while I stood shivering in the long, poly-filled coat my mother had bought me on clearance. My coat wasn’t near warm enough for Massachusetts winters. My New Mexican tan was also long gone, and no amount of bronzer or blush could give me the natural glow I was used to.

In the bathroom, I swept a brush-load of medium-beige powder over my T-zone, patted taupe eyeshadow to my lids, and glossed my lips pale pink.

I looked out the window toward the woods. No snow in the forecast meant Uncle Dean wouldn’t be coming over for an after-snowfall cleanup, but it meant something else―it was a great time to visit Brell.

CHAPTER 2

N ot today, girl, I told Molly when she whinnied. Stay in your stall with your blanket where it’s nice and warm. Besides, Mom will see your hoof prints and know I took you out and broke her rule. You know how she feels about me riding you when she’s not home. I pushed a flake of alfalfa into its holder.

Covering up my own footsteps was hard enough. Brell had taught me how to walk on light feet, making it possible to cover dry or damp earth without leaving a print, but it was different with snow. No matter how hard I tried, my boots broke through the top icy crust, leaving perfect impressions.

Thankfully, last week, he’d also given me a quick lesson on wind working. My skills were mediocre at this point, but it would be enough for today. On the way home from the Grove, I’d be able to retrace my exact steps, working the wind in soft swirls behind me, stirring the top sprinkling of snow just enough to refill my tracks.

When I reached the edge of the forest, I quickened my pace, knowing my footprints no longer mattered. A brisk sprint warmed my chest, and by the time I’d passed the clearing with two boulders and reached the perimeter of the Grove, I wasn’t as cold.

The air curled around me, fluttering my hair and hood strings. I stepped forward, closing my eyes. When I opened them, I was inside the Grove.

Good morning, Brell said.

How did you know when to meet me? I asked playfully. It was our inside joke, something I asked every time even though I always knew he’d used his Landaffen powers to hear and see me approaching.

He brought his arms around me, and we kissed, the warmth of his lips helping mine to stop trembling. Your nose is cold. He held my face in his hands.

Everything is cold, I said.

Soon you will be warm, he said, taking my hand.

Just as it had been cooler in the blistering heat of summer, the Grove was naturally warmer in the winter. Its winding stream never froze, and snow sat in patches instead of blankets, many of them prickled with the delicate stems of lush flowers only known to grow in the Grove and during the dead of wintertide. Each stem, curving with a flock of small buds, readied to open when the waning sun was high in the sky and close again with the next dusting of snow.

He led me to a small courtyard I’d only passed through once before. Although it was open on all sides, letting in the weather, my face immediately began to thaw.

How is it always warmer here?

By working the wind.

Wouldn’t that make it colder?

Not when the wind we work is warm, Brell said.

At chest level, he held out his hands in front of him, palms down. As if running his hands along an invisible beach ball, he brought them downward until the sides of his hands met and his palms faced upward. He moved his cupped hands toward my face, and as they came closer, the fur lining of my hood stirred, and a warm breeze brushed my face.

You can change the temperature of the wind when you work it? I asked, closing my eyes and bringing my face closer to the gust.

Yes, but I alone cannot change the temperature of the Grove. It is the work of the entire colony. In wintertide upon first wake, and again at sunfall, we work the wind, bringing heat.

And you do the same in the summer with cold wind to keep it cool? I asked.

Yes, Brell said.

How come you haven’t taught me how to control the temperature of the wind I make?

It has not been necessary, he said. You have not been here to help. The whirl of warm air between his palms dissipated as he lowered his hands. But soon you will be, and then you will learn.

Just like bees, I said. They work together, beating their wings to keep their hive cool when it’s too hot, and vibrating their flight muscles when it’s too cold in order to produce heat, I said. Please teach me now?

It cannot be learned in one day. I will teach you when you are living in the Grove. Then you will be a bee. He laughed.

Good morning, the one called Laura, Keena said as she entered the courtyard.

Good morning, I replied.

She gasped, and her eyes grew wide. No disrespecting, but I do not agree. Please say you at least ate the animal you killed for its coat. I know it is something humans do. Kill for skin and meat. And sometimes kill just for skin or pleasure. Her expression soured as her lips puckered and eyebrows drooped. She pulled her open jacket closed.

No, of course not. I never have. And I never will kill an animal, I said, figuring mosquitoes, flies, and cockroaches didn’t count.

Then how… she asked, pointing toward my neck.

Oh, you mean this? I wasn’t wearing my hood, but it draped over my shoulders before laying against the top of my back. I stroked my hood’s fur trim. It’s fake. Not real. Feel it, and you’ll see.

She sunk her spread fingers into the run of reddish-brown fluffy fibers. It is soft, but it is not from a fox.

Or any other animal. It’s synthetic.

She scrunched her face and squinted her eyes, continuing to examine the faux fur by rubbing a small section between her fingers.

It was made in a factory. Without any thought, the Landaffen word for manmade came to my lips. "Noshlinex."

Very good, Laura. Like I keep saying, more Landaffen by the day,