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Hope stirred in Willow’s belly like bees in a clover patch. “Oh, Ethan! I know how I’m to get back home!”
She dug in the pocket of her dress, squealing in delight when her fingers touched the rough little seed pods she stuffed inside before she left the keep at Fern Hollow. There was too much grass where she stood, so she scurried this way and that, looking for a patch of proper soil, finally tumbling down a dip in the bluff to a patch of earth where the grass thinned out as the soil met the white sand of the beach.
Ethan dropped his small collection of sticks and followed
her, perplexed to see the girl who whined so much about the stains on her frock plopping herself down in the dirt, yanking at the grass, scratching at the soil with a crooked little stick so brittle it snapped with each scrape. Once the stick was broken to the nub, she began pulling little seeds from her pocket and scattering them in the freshly tilled soil.
She looked up at him, blowing a stray curl from her face.
“Well, are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?”
Ethan clenched his jaw. “I think you’ve gone batty. It will be dark soon.
The cold is piercing already. Get out of the dirt and help me find some wood for
“Now who’s daft? Don’t you see? I’m the child of prophecy.
From the Flower and the Raven a child will spring; to Luminar seeds of change
she’ll bring. I’ll plant these seeds, and then I can go home,” Willow explained,
patting bits of earth over her seeds.
“Why would Luminar need to change anything?” Ethan asked,
Willow stood up, rubbing the dirt off her hands and brushing
off her dress. “Maybe staring at everything white, gray, and green all day every
day has made you all testy.” She looked up at him with sparkling brown eyes and
grabbed his elbow. “These are marigold seeds, Ethan! They’re lovely flowers,
bright, cheery shades of yellow and orange, some with little bits of red in
He sighed. “It’s autumn, Willow. We may have a mild climate, but it is
still not the season for gardening. Besides, my father and I rarely come to the
shore anymore. Who’s going to tend to your little flower garden?”
Willow scowled and crossed her arms, hope wilting. “God will. Just like
he does these white ones.”
Ethan rolled his eyes and went back up the knoll to retrieve his
firewood. “Fine then, Willow. You’ve planted your seeds. It will be a spring of
change for Luminar. Now will you lend a hand before we’ve no light at
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