Chapter 11
She wanted to believe that she would come back, but every step took her farther away from the place she first bloomed.
We left before morning’s first light. Hesper offered to take us a way that would avoid going through Moss proper, but I declined. Warty perched on my shoulder, donning a small traveling vest he’d made out of torn-off bits of my Celebration dress. He nibbled on a cracker, getting crumbs everywhere.
The dawn mist blanketed the air as we made our way onto the path that led to the main street. The world was still, save for the birdsong. And for the first time since that fateful Celebration evening, there was stillness in me, too.
Hope. That’s what rested in my heart today. Hope. That I could grow a garden and then come back home. Hope. Just like the tulip I’d tended for years on end.
The question of survival hung over my head, but I’d manage.
Hesper walked silently beside me, her dark cloak billowing in the summer breeze.
Her attire was the same as always—leathers, a crossbow, and an array of black clothes that made her look more like a queen of shadows than some gardener’s protector.
I donned a simple linen tunic, pants, and my green walking cloak.
We both had travel packs, each with one bedroll, food, and “necessary items.” Hesper implored me to take only what I actually needed and to not consider comfort.
I did not listen.
My writing journal, a few books, some painting supplies, knitting needles, and Warty were competing for space in my bag. And the seeds, of course. My everything. I could already feel the strain from my overstuffed bag, and we had only walked from my cottage to town.
Moss had gifted us a wagon filled to the brim with every food, delicacy, and drink imaginable, along with two donkeys to tow everything.
But there was no way the donkeys or wagon could make it through the trek unscathed.
We would be on well-walked forest paths for a while, but after that, the land turned rocky and barren, according to Hesper.
I left the wagon, supplies, and the donkeys—Ulrich and Yorick—to Patti as a thank-you for taking over as Town Gardener.
I did snag a few chocolates first, though. Hesper needn’t know about that.
The whole magic ordeal still had me fussy.
But the fury, so fresh and bleeding yesterday, had already scabbed over thanks to a gentle evening with Rosie.
Hesper eventually joined us in my bedroom, dropping off plates of food from Remi’s.
Much to my annoyance, Rosie asked Hesper to stay.
So she did. And it ended up being… nice.
She sat and listened while Rosie chattered on about town gossip, and I dozed off while the two of them spoke in hushed whispers about the scandalous dalliances of Remi and Quincy.
Moss’s main street appeared through the morning fog, and my heart danced.
All was quiet, most were sleeping. Except for an orc, a mayor, and a bee-lover that waited under a giant sign hung between two opposing street cottages that read:
SEE YOU SOON, CLARA!
But the individual pieces of wood weighed down the hang line, so it read more like this:
“We know you don’t care much for surprises nor parties, but we had to say farewell, Miss Curmudgeonly.” Sylvie stepped forward. She placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, a hint of tears glistening in her eyes. But she’d never admit that.
“Clara, dear!” Quincy whispered excitedly.
He wore an illustrious bright pink dress today that accented his crimson-rose hat, the boldest flower of the bunch.
“You have been with us for fifteen years. You have served as Moss’s Town Gardener for fourteen and a half of those years, endowing the land with your garden magic.
You have kept our harvests full and our bellies happy. ” He patted his own generous belly.
I tried to ignore the guilt trying to spring up inside of my own stomach. Rosie gave me an understanding look.
“But it is not just your work that I admire. It is also you.” Quincy took my hand gently.
“Clara, your love for Moss has made this town a Haven. Your love made the townsfolk love this little spot of earth more, made me love it more.” His voice began to crack, and I met his emotion with tears and smiles of my own.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Rosie and Sylvie hugging each other tightly, Hesper a mere shadow on the outskirts of it all. “You are strict and unyielding—”
Hesper laughed, and I laughed along with her.
“—most of the time fussy and always ‘in the middle of something.’ And we could not love you more for it. I do not know what Moss will do without our Clara. But we will continue your legacy of loving this town, I promise you that.” With that, he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, and I enjoyed suffocating in his ruffles.
The goodbyes were swift afterward, with only Rosie staying to accompany us to the edge of the forest. Hesper kept her distance then, offering her shoulder to Warty so that Rosie and I could say goodbye without crumbs everywhere.
“Don’t even say it,” Rosie’s voice rasped. “Don’t say goodbye. Just say, ‘See you soon.’” She tried to smile. “Please say, ‘See you soon.’” Perhaps for the first time in her life, she wasn’t looking at someone head-on. She stared at the horizon, unable and unwilling to face anything else.
I understood that well.
“See you soon,” I said, willing every word into that tiny seed pack at the bottom of my travel bag.
“Good.” She wiped a stray tear away from her cheek. “Clara, make it joyful. Make it fun. And please, just try. You never know what’s possible.” She swiftly leaned down to kiss me on the top of my head and began walking away.
“Rosie, wait!” I called out, not wanting this to be possibly the last time I saw her.
She stopped but didn’t turn around.
“I love you. And I’ll see you soon. Please don’t have more fun with Hesper than you do with me. And Hesper?”
Hesper came to stand beside me, her heat enveloping me. “Thank you for the idea,” she said.
Rosie stalked off into the sunrays without another word.
“What is she talking about?” I asked.
But Hesper remained silent, plopping Warty back onto my shoulder. He nuzzled into my neck, giving a pitiful, empty squeak.
“I know. Me too.” I patted him.
“Come, we have a long journey ahead,” she said, placing a strong hand on my Warty-less shoulder. But I couldn’t go with her just yet.
From here on top of this hill, the town looked so simple.
Just a small village filled with cottages and shoppes like any other town might be.
But this wasn’t any other town. This was home.
Chimneys were smoking, warming houses rousing from their slumber.
A baker’s cart ambled about, hitting the same upturned cobblestone.
A cottage stood on the outskirts of it all, once tended by a girl and her hedgehog, painted and repainted to match the seasons crumbling in and out of time.
A tear streaked down my cheek, and Hesper inched closer.
“I’m all right,” I said.
“I know,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes, willing the magic to bloom. This patch of grass needed some color, and perhaps it would hurt less to leave if I left something behind worth looking at. But the magic locked itself away, deep inside of me. I pulled at it and pleaded for it to budge just a little.
I dug deeper, imagining my body like the upturned earth of my garden.
I let myself remember the things I would miss the most—something I’d been avoiding these last two weeks.
The pain that came with those memories was debilitating at the time, so I’d shoved them away.
Right now, though, I wanted to remember. So I did.
Sylvie’s honey-sweet hugs, Rosie’s gentle-giant hands that have loved me so well, Patti and her spider friend, Quincy and his kind eyes, Moss in the morning, and every single person in this town.
Love and pain coursed through me at once.
That locked box that held Moss’s magic clicked open, and it rushed through me. I didn’t even have to reach.
I willed whatever seeds lay below this tiny bit of grass to bloom and to keep blooming, even into the darkest winter night and through the driest summer days. To bloom, to live, and to bring a bit of light. Always.
I felt the flowers before I saw them, their radiant buds tickling my ankles.
“Clara,” Hesper’s voice urged. “Clara, open your eyes.”
I obeyed.
I’d only meant to grow a few flowers, just enough to add happiness to the spot where I stood. Instead, the entire hill was covered in lupines. Deep purples, ruby reds, and sunshine yellows as far as the eye could see. Moss would forever be surrounded by a rainbow, growing just for them.
Awestruck and a little terrified, I grabbed Hesper’s hand. She let me.
Hesper gently tilted my chin up toward her. A thrill ran through me at her touch. “I will bring you back here, Clara. If that’s what you want at the end of this.”
“Of course, it’s what I want.”
“Then I will bring you back home. I promise you. This is not the last time you will see Moss. Do you understand me?”
I nodded.
“We have to go now.” She had an apologetic look in her eye, her finger still hooked underneath my chin, and I knew she was right. We were on a harsh two-week timeline and needed to get in as many miles as we could.
I turned toward the forest, ignoring the searing pain in my heart as I turned my back on Moss. Hesper’s touch lingered for a moment, but then she let go.
I ignored the coldness that was left in her absence.