Chapter Twenty-nine
Tara
The wood-nymph stared at her own reflection in the pond, quietly, while Lily plucked a dandelion and scattered its seeds upon the wind, watching them until they floated away out of sight.
The two spent much time together, as today. There was a taste of fall in the air, and the meadow was beginning to show its fall colours. The ground was damp, and the leaves fell occasionally in slow-motion, borne upon the breeze. A few oak leaves sailed across the surface of the water, and the sun and cloud reflected on its surface had a mystic look.
“Tara, you’re so self-absorbed,” said Lily, taking the wood-nymph by the hand and drawing her to her feet.
Some days ago, Anest had given her the gift of speech, as Belloc had for Lily. Still caught up in the mood of her reverie, she said awkwardly, “I am not what I was.”
“Nor am I,” replied Lily, pushing her hair away from her face as the cool fall breeze caught at it. “We are both changed from what we were. Now, we are sisters. Or, at least, cousins.”
The wood-nymph smiled. “I am glad these last seasons will not pass me by unfriended. I will need another’s strength to face the end.”