My eyes drift open.
The first thing I notice is that we are no longer in tunnels. Arlo has stopped on the edge of a vast arena and there is light, but not from sconces. It’s dappled, tinging everything with a soft green, and I see an expanse of silver shimmering ahead.
“Is that… water?” I ask.
“Yes. Welcome to One Moonbeam Lake.”
Arlo crouches down and I slide off his back. I look around in awe, acclimatizing to this magical place.
“It’s… so beautiful,” I murmur, gazing at the lake, and the soft blanket of greenery on the rocks that surround the pool. They are plants, I realize, cascading off the rock walls. And around them are dancing pinpoints of light. And that’s when I realize that the light in here is actually coming from these tiny gleaming moving things. Thousands of them.
“What are they?” I turn to Arlo in amazement.
“Fairy moths. They always gather here to feed off the plants, and their lights help the greenery grow. It’s a win-win.”
I sniff the air. It’s sweet, fresh, and evocative. It reminds me of the orchards in Sparkle where we grow fruit, but infinitely better.
My ears detect a soft dripping sound. Arlo takes my hand and leads me to a trickle of water running down the rock into the water, then another.
“It’s like your golden fountain,” I say.
“Except this is natural.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s not pumped here artificially. It filters through the rocks from above and finds its way into the pool.”
I laugh. “Arlo, don’t be silly.”
“Really it does. It falls in tiny drops, like…” He frowns, thinking. “Like your tears, but from the sky.”
“The same sky that has stars and a moon?”
“Yes. It has clouds, too.”
“So now you’re telling me that the Earth cries?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“I’m really not sure I believe you, but it’s a beautiful story.”
We sit down on a rock near the little cascade and watchthe water glimmer as thousands of tiny moths skim the surface. And then Arlo leans in and kisses me.
“Shall we eat? Or swim first?” he murmurs against my ear.
I pull back, eyes wide. “Arlo, there could be something nasty in there. Something that could bite, I mean.”
“Maybe, but nothing that could harm you. We’ve all been coming here for centuries.”
“Yes, but how many humans have swum here?”
“You could probably count them on one hand.”
“Exactly. So maybe there’s a human-munching monster lurking in the deep, just waiting for me to get in the water.”
Arlo laughs heartily, and the sound echoes around the cave’s walls. “Yeah, the monster is me.” Then he rolls me over and tickles me, and we’re both laughing now. His lips cover mine, our tongues glide together, and we grow serious. The need in me that I’ve kept under wraps is ready to burst out. But then my stomach makes a loud growl, and Arlo’s gives an answering one, and we burst out laughing again.
“Food first, I think, little one.”