THIRTEEN
Istood in a field of feather read grass, sedge, and weeping willows. Silvery moonlight bathed the landscape, and the heady scent of honeysuckle wafted on the warm breeze. The tall grass danced, swaying in flashes of silver, purple and green, while the willows' delicate leaves rustled in rhythm. Even the lightning bugs joined in, dancing along to ancient choreography.
As usual, it was easy to settle into the deep peace Monassa brought to my soul. Though there was a tremor of another energy here that was new. I spun on my heels to investigate, and… locked eyes with a very disoriented Lysander.
"Aster, where are we?" he asked cautiously, fingers tugging at the golden, feather tufts of the grass as if testing whether it was real. When his eyes lifted to mine, they were full of awe.
