Moon's Flower (Kingdom, #6)

And she knew her hunch was right immediately, because June was squeezing her eyes shut.

“Come on, June, I am your mistress, you know you can tell me anything.” A smile grew large on her heart shaped face. “Trust me, child, I only want what’s best for Calanthe.”

“You will not hurt her?” The words were a whisper of sound.

Smile still firm on her face, Galeta released the hold she’d had on June’s tunic and patted the snail shell warmly. “You must trust me, dear.”

“They did things, strange things, in the Cave of Songs.”

Nostrils flaring, heart thumping wildly in her chest, Galeta could only imagine the strange things they’d done in the cave. For years The Blue had searched for a way to punish Calanthe, now she had it. And there wasn’t a fairy alive that could stop her.

“You’ve done good, June, you’ve done very good.”

The wee fairy made as if to leave, but Galeta shook her head. “Oh no, my dear, where do you think you’re going?”

Looking as if she’d been caught mid-theft, June jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ve told you everything, ma’am, I was going to head back now.”

“Ah, but you see I am not done with you yet. This is a serious crime that has been committed, not only did Calanthe steal from me, but if what you say is true then she has committed the cardinal sin. I do believe there is one who will want to hear this… crime.”

“Who, ma’am?”

Galeta’s smile was nothing but teeth, “why the sun of course.” June’s eyes were wide and guileless, and Galeta wanted to laugh because it seemed that Calanthe had shared nothing of what she’d actually been doing with her friend. “Tsk, tsk,” she shook her head, “did you not know, June?”

“Know what?”

“The man who Calanthe was with was none other than the Man in the Moon.”

In a rare show of bravery June shook her head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Siria of course,” she laughed again, Galeta couldn’t remember having this much fun in quite some time, “Siria is the sun and her hold on the moon is absolute.”

Snatching her cloak off the hook on her wall, Galeta slipped it about her shoulders. A rim of frost spread outwards from her feet on the wooden plank floor. The cloak was infused with the essence of winter, the power of The Blue lay in controlling the frost, the snow, blizzards, ice… And that power only came from the sun. Calanthe had messed with something she should never have messed with, to anger the sun was to disrupt the very fabric of their existence. Should Siria discover this treachery on her own, she would blight their glen, sending no rain, no water, in short all that they knew and loved would die. Yes, this was a treachery none could deny punishment for.

“You’re coming with me, June.”

Holding her hands up, June looked at Galeta with fear in her wide eyes. “Where, mistress?” And even as she asked it, she took a tentative step back.

“To Siria.”

And with that, and a flick of her wrist, the two sailed toward the sun to plead their case.

*

Being anywhere close to Siria, especially during the zenith of day, was not only blinding, but very nearly painful. The fairies had had to cloak themselves in shadow so thick that the light could barely break through. Even so, Galeta was wincing when she looked up.

All she could see of the sun was a faint golden silhouette.

“Sit,” Siria commanded with the authority of one unused to being ignored.

June was visibly trembling where they hovered above the castle parapets. The snail fairy was biting onto her lower lip so hard that soon she’d draw blood if she wasn’t careful.

Yanking June to her side, Galeta hissed in her ear. “You will do as I say, answer only when spoken to, and stop this childish trembling.” She sniffed.

June barely managed a nod. Still hanging onto her hand, Galeta led them toward a white tea table loaded with finger sandwiches and pitchers of tea.

Siria was already sitting, staring at them patiently.

Calling forth her magic, Galeta transformed the two of them from miniature to human size and pointed at the seat opposite hers for June to take.

“Sit down,” she ordered to the shell-shocked snail.

Siria’s smile was broad, effortless. She’d dimmed most of her glow so that now they could make out her features.

She was as lovely as every sonnet had ever mentioned her being. Long tendrils of golden hair tumbled over one shoulder. A gown of reddish-gold flame licked at the contours of her body.

Galeta couldn’t deny the slimy slinking of jealousy that twisted her insides up, or the curiosity that the Man in the Moon would choose to lay with such an ugly fairy over one so obviously above her in perfection.

“Sun,” she greeted coolly, “it is always so wonderful to visit.”