Page 13 of Must Love Moss and Moonshine
“I feel like a child again,” she said with a laugh, the sound ringing like a sweet silver bell through my house.
I smiled.“That tells us someone once tied your boots.Perhaps a family in Greenspire?”
She shrugged, making her raven-black tresses shake.“I wish I knew.”
I looked up at her, meeting her pale blue eyes.“Done,” I said, then paused.“I don’t like not having a name to call you.It feels…unnatural.”
“Well, you can always just call me Sylvie.”
AsRedwas used for redheads orFrecklesfor people who were so adorned,Sylviewas the common nickname for a Sylvan woman.
“What if you are someone who is fundamentally opposed to nicknames?”I replied.
“I don’t feel fundamentally opposed,” she said with a laugh.“And if we find out I am later, I promise not to blame you.”
“Agreed, then, Sylvie,” I said, holding out my hand to help her up.
Smiling, she took my hand then rose.Adjusting the satchel I’d strung across my back, I walked beside Sylvie as we made our way into the forest.
“Since I can’t remember anything about me, tell me about you,” she said.“How long have you been the keeper of this forest?”
“It will be one hundred years this Yule.I was given the forest as a novice, but my elders had faith I had the skills needed to tend to it.So far, other than dealing with vexing brownies, the occasional singed ferns from teenage moonbandits, and dueling bears and porcupines, I have managed to keep blight at bay and protect the forest from those who would steal her riches.”
“But not from wandering Sylvans.”
“I am quite devastated in that battle.”
She laughed once more.How easily joy came to her, this delight in the company of another.I smiled lightly then paused, reaching for her hand to help her over a fallen log.She slipped her hand into mine.How warm and soft it felt.I helped her over the log then let her go once more.
“I’ll be very disappointed if I learn I’m some kind of herb thief here hunting for the rare moonshine plant,” she said, referring to the crucial but hard-to-grow herb needed to make the healing draft.The herb was so valuable that a single bundle of it paid for my needs for one year.But that also put my woods and all its inhabitants in danger from those who came seeking it.
“So far, all my wards have protected my forest from any searching for plunder, but we are fortunate to live in a world where such people are few and far between.And you don’t exactly strike me as a thief,” I said, giving her a knowing look as she took my hand.Working carefully, I helped her maneuver over a moss-covered log.
“You never know.This could be my disguise.You see, I could even be lying about my missing memory, tricking you with my Sylvan magic to lure you into the woods to reveal your secrets,” she said, grinning playfully at me.
“You think you could out-magic me, Sylvie?”
“Of course!Once I remember what kind of magic I have.”
At that, we both laughed.
As did the trees around us, the leaves overhead fluttering with a giggle.
“At least we can all agree, forest included, that I’m funny,” Sylvie said.“Maybe I’m a wandering jester or part of an acting troupe or maybe a bard… No, I don’t feel musically inclined.”
“Sing us a song.Let’s see,” I replied, prodding her a little.
“No memory.Sorry.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works,” I told her.
In reply, she winked at me.“Maybe I do remember a few tunes, but everything bubbling up seems to be bawdy tavern songs, and I have no idea how I might sound, so let’s spare us both that…discovery.”
“As you wish,” I replied, leading her onward.
As we walked, we talked about simple things.It seemed she could remember all the names of the species of trees and many of the plants around us.Soon, I could hear the sound of rushing water.
Sylvie paused.“What is that?”
