All rights reserved.
Cover designed by Amanda Frederickson
The moon was a bright white orb cradled in the drifting clouds, its light shining through the bare branches of the trees. Some of them had the first green buds of spring, but it would be time yet before they were in full leaf. It was the moon's fault that I lingered so long in the woods. It was so bright it cast everything in sharp silver, like one of my father's finest necklaces. Plenty of light to see by.
In my foraging for useful spring growth, late in the day I'd found a vine of early inkberries. Not an uncommon plant, but I was down to the dregs of what I'd gathered in autumn.