Insolita Luna

by M. J. O'Shea

  “Yes, and—” He stopped and blushed again. Xan’s blush had always been bright, filling his cheeks with a wash of pink.

  “And what?”

  “It’s nothing. Let me show you where I live.”

  Xan gestured across the clearing to a town square of sorts, mixed with what looked like a school and a general store. There were dryad women and children sitting at rough-hewn tables, trading, teaching young, making things. It was fascinating—like I’d stepped into another world. I guessed that I had stepped into another world. And it all existed less than a mile from my plain old house on a meandering old street.

  We stopped at a large tree in the corner of the clearing.

  “You literally live… in the tree?” The tree was large, but not that large. And it seemed to be living. There was no way it could’ve been hollowed out.

  “Not quite,” Xan answered with a smile. “Look up.”

  I looked up, straight into the leaves, and saw nothing. At first. The longer I looked, though, I noticed shapes up in the branches.

  “Seriously?” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; the kid in me who hadn’t quite grown up was insanely jealous. “You live in a tree house?”

  “I guess you could call it that. You want to go up?”

  “Yeah! But how?”

  “I usually just climb up that rope, but when I have a lot of stuff with me, I take this.” He kicked a stake out of the ground and caught the rope that went slithering away. Then he lowered a people-sized dumbwaiter of sorts until it hit the ground with a soft thump.

  “That’s pretty badass. How can you be so in love with my Xbox if you live somewhere like this?” I climbed on the platform and scooted over to make room for Xan.

  “It’s different—just like this is different for you. And your mom’s cookies.” He sighed. “Out here, we eat pretty much what you’d imagine we would eat.”

  I looked around. “Twigs?”

  Xan chuckled. “Wild game, mushrooms and vegetables we grow….”

  “Hippy food,” I said with a smirk.

  “Yeah. Hippy food.” I’d been teasing him about his granola lifestyle for as long as we’d been friends. Now instead of mocking, I’d grown envious.

  Xan pulled on the rope that was attached to the rough-hewn elevator, and slowly we began to rise into the air.

  “You want some help with that?” I asked.

  “Nah, it’s no biggie. You’re little.”

  If he wasn’t holding the rope that was keeping us in the air, I would’ve elbowed him in the ribs. The ascent was gorgeous as we rose higher and higher into the air through the leaves and the warm, sweet air. I could see the clearing spread below me and trees as far as the horizon.

  “Where’s New Haven?”

  Xan smiled. “New Haven doesn’t exist here. Once you crossed through that cave onto my side, you’re in the Forest. It’s a place where no average human can come. And neither side is visible to the other.”

  “But I’m here.”

  Xan smiled at me again. “When are you going to learn that you’re far from average?”

  I smiled back. My stomach felt light, like we’d gone too fast up the side of the tree.

  “And here we are,” Xan said as he tied his rope off on a stout T-shape, carved out of wood and shiny with use. The platform had landed at a gate which led to a wooden balcony that wrapped around what I assumed was Xan’s family’s house.

  “Where’s your mothers?” I asked. “Are they inside?”

  Xan chuckled. “This is my place. I built it two summers ago when the other boys left for the men’s side of the Forest. I was too old to be living with my mothers by then.”

  Again, something was different. He was only fifteen two summers ago. He’d just turned eighteen in September. He’d been on his own and taking care of his own space that whole time… but at the same time, he was in the middle of such a close community of people who would care for him. It wasn’t anything like I’d ever known.

  “Here. Come on in. I didn’t expect you, so it’s a bit of a mess.”

  I ducked my head under Xan’s arm and went into his home. Again I was struck by the beauty. His floors were warm wood, hewn from the trees surrounding the village and polished to a warm sheen. They were covered with woven grass rugs and a large, low bed that looked like the perfect place to fall asleep in the summer with the windows open to smell the sweet breeze. The walls of his room were covered in shelves filled with books and little relics of his past. The whole place had a vibe that was warm and comfortable, yet free, like it could take off flying at any time. I felt like one of the lost boys in Peter Pan.

  “I love this! I wish I’d have been here a million times.”

  Xan cringed. “They didn’t think it was best for you to know what I was.”

  “But I would’ve believed it. I’ve known about vampires and stuff since I was a little kid.”

  “I know that now,” Xan admitted. “But I had to follow my mom’s directive on this. She’s not one of the elders, but she’s also not one who you want to mess with. Things don’t tend to go well when you make my mother unhappy.”

  “I can imagine. Are there other dryads walking around? I mean, do you come across with anyone else ever?”

  “Nope.” Xan shook his head. “It’s just me usually.”

  “So you’re the only dryad in New Haven?”

  “Other than my mothers sometimes, I’m the only dryad who crosses through the cave and the falls. Anywhere. Ever. At least not since a long time ago.”

  “Why are you the only dryad that leaves the woods?”

  “The Forest,” Xan said. Then he remained silent.

  “C’mon, are we going to do that again?”

  “I told you there were some things that my mother didn’t want me telling you just yet.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense, Xan. What else could there be? You already showed me the Forest. I know what you are. Why can’t I know why you leave the Forest if no other dryads do? You’ve been doing it nearly every day since we were kids.”

  “I know, Charlie. Can’t you let it go for one night? You never told me what you knew about your family. I get to have some secrets too, you know.”

  “I didn’t tell you because I figured you’d think I was crazy!”

  “And it had nothing to do with having a cool secret that no one in your regular life knew about?”

  “No… well, maybe.”

  Xan smiled at me, that sweet sunny Xan smile that had always been part of my life. I couldn’t believe how much I missed it. “My reason isn’t anything like that. I’m just following my elders’ orders. Okay? You don’t want to get me in trouble, do you?”

  I laughed and socked Xan in the stomach lightly. “All we’ve been doing the past fifteen years is getting each other in trouble. It’s one of the perks of best friend-hood.”

  Xan flopped down on his bed beside me. “Wanna see something cool?” I figured the subject was closed so I nodded. I’d go back to work on him later. No doubt about that. One of my best skills was getting the information I wanted. I just had to wait.

  “What is it?”

  “None of the others have this. I put it in myself.” Xan pushed on me until I was reclined on the bed.

  When I lay on my back, I saw a huge window in the ceiling right over Xan’s bed. The sun was setting, and the whole sky above, barely hidden by the tree’s remaining leaves, was turning bright pink and burnished orange. It was gorgeous.

  “Wow, Xan. That’s amazing.” I stared silently in awe.

  “There’s more.” He stood and flipped a latch on the side of his window, then pulled on a rope next to his bed. The window opened until it was folded away, on the roof I assumed, and the night sky was open, breeze flowing into the room from the huge opening.

  “I leave this open all summer. There’s a screen that I can put across it to keep out the animals, but I’m not going to bother right now if it’s just for a minute or so.”


  “But you said it never got to be winter here.”

  “It does get cool enough that it wouldn’t be comfortable to have that open all day and night.”

  I sighed happily. “I love it here. Can I be a dryad?”

  Xan chuckled and elbowed me in the ribs.

  “What? You can be turned into a vampire; you can be turned into a lycan, yeah? Why not a dryad?”

  “Because it’s not the same. You have to be born a dryad. Lycans work both ways, and except for a very ancient few, vampires are never born, only turned. At least, as far as we know.” Xan shuddered.

  “What?”

  “Oh, just the idea. A born creature of any breed is stronger by nature than one that is made. Vampires are so strong already. The idea of one that was born that way scares the crap out of me. It should scare you too. At least made vampires have a chance of saving some of their humanity. A born vampire would have none to begin with.”

  “But there are born and made lycans, right? How are they different?”

  Xan rolled his eyes. “Not very. Born lycans are stronger, snobbier, and difficult to deal with, but at least they’re civilized. For the most part.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.” He cleared his throat. Obvious lie.

  “But you can’t make a dryad? Even a weaker one?”

  “No, you can’t. Dryad blood is different. It wouldn’t change a person like lycan blood or saliva would. We’re too close to humans, I think, or maybe it has something to do with the connection to our tree. We don’t have any venom to change a person, either, not like the fairies or the vampires do. So you can be born a dryad, but you can’t be made one.”

  “Fairies are venomous?” I choked out a laugh.

  “Yes, very. I’m not sure that a fairy bite could turn a human, or if it would just kill them, but that’s how it works with vampires, you know.”

  “Yes, that much I know.” I rolled my eyes at him.

  “Charlie, listen. Nobody’s hiding things from you because we hate you. Your family, me, we just want to keep you safe.”

  “And you don’t think I can do that on my own, if someone would just let me?”

  Xan propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me. He brushed my hair off my face. “You can’t ask your family to be rational. You’re their baby. They want to protect you.”

  I didn’t know how to react. Xan and I had always punched and kicked each other, rolled around in the grass nearly constantly when we were younger, but we’d never been very physically affectionate. He was different in the Forest—more serene or something. His touch made me calm, really calm, like I didn’t want to question him anymore because it was too much effort. I looked at the darkening lavender of the setting sun and felt more peaceful than I had in….

  “Wait. Are you doing something to me?” I battled my way out of the thick serenity. Xan looked guilty. “Not cool, asshole. I’m out of here.”

  “Charlie, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it. I just—” He broke off, clearly at a loss for words to explain how he’d drugged me with his hand somehow.

  “You what?”

  “I didn’t really do it on purpose. I wanted you to feel more calm, I just… it just happened. I swear it was an accident.”

  Xan couldn’t hide a lie on his face if he had to. He hadn’t meant to do it. A low call, from some sort of hollowed-out horn, bellowed in the night, interrupting my irritation. “What’s that?”

  Xan smiled. “Dinner. You hungry?”

  My stomach growled. I was hungry, but I was dubious about what constituted dryad food. “For twigs?”

  He shoved me, face back to normal and less like that Zen Jedi master from a few moments ago.

  “Yeah, lots of twigs. You’ll like them. C’mon, let’s go.”

  Xan hopped out of bed and stuck his hand out for me to grab. I let him haul me up and nearly fell over again from the force. He was so strong.

  “Is it just because we’re in here that you can lift me and stuff?”

  Xan shook his head. “Nah. I could do it anywhere. You’re a shrimp. I just didn’t want to be obvious about it.”

  Then he laughed and ducked my punch before he jogged out the doorway of his studio apartment in the trees.

  “Wanna lower us?” he asked with a smirk, handing the rope out toward me.

  “Not sure if I can.”

  “Here, try. It’s easier than you’d think.”

  He handed me the rope, and I took it gingerly, bracing myself in case it was too much for me to control. But it was easy.

  “Is it magic?”

  “No,” Xan chuckled. “It’s just the pulley system that I built. Makes everything way lighter.”

  “What was with all the grunting and groaning on the way up?” He flashed me a grin. “You suck,” I said with a smile back. Even in the Forest, he still couldn’t resist teasing me. At least some things were familiar in my crazy new world.

  We rode the rest of the way to the ground in comfortable silence, gliding through the balmy forest air. When we landed, quite a bit less gracefully than I’d hoped, Xan took the rope from me and wound it around a knob he’d driven into the ground. Then he put his hand on my back and led me toward the middle of the clearing, where women and children were gathering, cooking, setting out wooden trays and cups, laughing and scolding. It looked an awful lot like when the whole Fitzgerald family got together. I was glad Xan had it while he was growing up.

  The myriad of smells coming from the cooking area were amazing—different than anything I was used to but tantalizing all the same.

  “The twigs smell pretty good,” I said with a smile. My stomach growled. Lunch at school had been a long time ago, and come to think of it, I hadn’t eaten much.

  “Shut it,” Xan answered. “Come on. My moms and I eat at this table.”

  He grabbed some of the wooden plates and a few hollowed-out wooden cups and led me to a table close to the cooking fire. He filled the cups with water from a big jug and set them out around the table, which looked like a big slice of some huge tree trunk. It had been polished until it was smooth, so even in the dim light of dusk, I saw swirls in the wood.

  “This is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I made these tables the summer after freshman year. Our old ones tipped constantly and gave you splinters.”

  I didn’t know why I was surprised. Xan was less and less the guy I’d thought he was for years. He sank gracefully down onto one of the stump chairs and gestured for me to sit next to him. Soon, his mother and her partner came with a platter filled with offerings from the cooking area. They sat it in the middle of our table before sinking down onto chairs themselves.

  “Hello, Charlie, welcome.” Xan’s mother had always seemed like an odd, somewhat messy, aging hippy to me. Here, she looked—I couldn’t even come up with a description, other than flat-out beautiful. The wrinkles were gone; her hair, which was usually wiry and wrapped in a faded waist-length braid when I saw her in the human world, was loose and flowed in shiny golden curls to her waist. She could be any age from fifteen to eternal. I was betting the latter was more likely.

  “You….”

  “I have to alter my appearance when I visit your world. This would never work at parent conferences.”

  “I—I….”

  Xan elbowed me. “That’s my mother, and I thought you were gay,” he whispered with a snort. It reminded me of that moment back in the city with Amanda. I had no idea what was wrong with me. I’d been very firmly in the boys-only camp since I knew what to do with… well, everything. My face heated up, and I stared at the plate of food that had just been slid in front of me. Xan pointed at what looked like a poultry dish. “Try that. It’s my favorite.”

  The food was delicious, and after I got over my embarrassment, dinner was pleasant. They talked of some border dispute with the fairies. I had to hold in laughter at the idea of fairies being volatile and venomous. I did snort once, and Xan elbowed me
in the side.

  Xan’s mom asked me questions about school and my parents, but she skated around asking anything outright about hunting, or vampires… or anything else that they had to know I was aware of. It was more of people protecting me from reality and it annoyed me, but at the same time I knew it was because they cared. Hard to get too angry about that.

  After dinner, I followed Xan back to his, um, tree, and we took the elevator thing he’d rigged back up to the top. The Forest was beautiful in the night, filled with colors and twinkling lights that flitted from tree to tree. It was nothing like anything I’d seen before.

  “What are those lights, Xan?”

  “Wood sprites. They’re harmless, really beautiful if you can get close to one when they’re not in motion. C’mon inside. We can play cards until it’s time to sleep. No Xbox here.”

  I was glad. Something that everyday would ruin the magic of the Forest for me. Might sound corny, but I was enchanted—by the differences, the beauty, the way everything seemed somehow familiar but like a different universe at the same time.

  WE WERE lying in his big fluffy bed a few hours later. I wasn’t sure if Xan was asleep, but I was too busy staring out the huge skylight at the stars, which were so much closer than they’d ever seemed before.

  “Xan?” I mumbled. He didn’t reply. I reached over to his side of the bed and poked him hard in the ribs. “Xan, wake up.”

  He grumbled and groaned. “Jesus, Charlie, I’m awake. What?”

  “What’s the big secret?” I asked.

  “What secret?”

  “C’mon, you know what I mean. What’s the big thing you’re not supposed to tell me—whatever it is your mom kept trying to avoid talking about at dinner. I know everything else. What can one more fact harm?”

  “Charlie….”

  “I’m serious. I’m tired of being protected. I mean, I get it and I appreciate that everyone cares, but aren’t I allowed to know what the hell is going on?”

  Xan sighed and turned to face me in the dark. “I just…. I don’t know. It might make things weird if I told you.”

  “Weird? Like how? I’ve gotta know now.” Xan remained silent. “I’m your best friend. Doesn’t that mean anything?”