The pink, sugar-fine sand of the beach soon gave way to rolling hills covered in a soft green velvety moss that felt wonderful under Kat’s toes. It was sprinkled with yellow and periwinkle blue flowers which she gathered as they walked and wove into a crown to wear in her hair. It was a game she and Liv and Sophie had used to play—queen of the castle—and she wished they could be there to see her now and admire the scenic beauty of the land she found herself in.
To her surprise, Kat was actually enjoying herself. She was more at peace than she could remember feeling since before Liv’s wedding. Before I met Deep and Lock, that is, she told herself. But even the twins seemed to be feeling peaceful. Or at least, Kat wasn’t filled to overflowing with their angst and hunger for once. Everything was quiet here on the continent—even their usually overwhelming emotions. It was very pleasant, though she knew it could change in an instant.
The sky was a vast lavender-blue bowl above her head without a single scrap of cloud. Looks like our sleeping arrangements won’t be too crowded tonight then, Kat thought, gazing up at it. Good thing I’m still feeling fine. It was true she was a little tired, but a lot had already happened that day—it was to be expected that she would get somewhat fatigued, she told herself. Lifting her chin, she ignored the ominous beginnings of a headache behind her right eye, and kept walking.
“So what are we looking for, anyway?” she said after they’d been hiking for about an hour in silence. “I mean, what does this fi-fi blossom look like?”
“The Moons blossom has two flowers on a single stem,” Lock said. “One light and one dark, like the moons that fill our sky at night.”
“One moon—Dakir is always in the shadow of the other—Lanare,” Deep explained. “So Dakir shows up as a black disk in the sky rather than a white or light one like Lanare. “When both are fully visible at once, then it’s said the Moons blossom will bloom.”
“Is it a full moon night tonight then?” Kat asked, shading her eyes to look up at the sky. The large pinkish sun was already descending, dropping behind the purple peaks brooding in the distance.
“The moons are coming to their zenith tomorrow night,” Lock said. But they should be close enough to full tonight for our purposes. Legend says that the Moons blossom hides in plain sight—its stem blends into the belsh and the flowers don’t unfurl until the light of the moons touches their petals.”
“So…they could be anywhere and we’d never see them?” Kat asked.
“Not until the moons come out.” Deep frowned. “Actually, we should probably be finding a place to camp. There’s a likely looking copse of trees over there about a hundred yards away.” He nodded at the small area of dense vegetation which reminded Kat of the bushes and trees in the Healing Gardens. “We might as well get comfortable and find a place to rest since we’re going to be up half the night hunting for fi-fi flowers, as Kat calls them.”
“Very funny.” Kat put a hand on her hip. “But that’s as close to pronouncing that weird long name that Mother L’rin said. Come to think of it, my convo-pillar wouldn’t even translate it. Why is that?”
Deep raised an eyebrow at her. “Possibly because it’s the biological equivalent of a shoddy piece of technological equipment? I believe in Earth vernacular you would call it a ‘piece of crap.’”
“Nice try,” Kat said. “But I’m not giving it up. I don’t like being dependant on anyone else to communicate for me.”
Deep put a hand to his chest. “It touches my heart, little Kat, that you’re so very trusting.”
Kat knew she shouldn’t let him get to her, but her head was really beginning to throb. “Maybe if you’d talk to me instead of keeping secrets,” she said furiously. “If you’d give me a reason to trust you—”
“Stop!” Lock frowned at both of them. “Kat’s convo-pillar couldn’t translate Mother L’rin’s name for the Moons blossom because it comes from the Elder Tongue.”
“The what?” Kat asked.
“The Elder Tongue,” Lock repeated. “It’s the root of all languages on Twin Moons and impossible to translate by biological or technical means. You have to study it for years to understand even a tenth of it.”
“And have you?” she asked. “Studied it?”
“Unsolvable riddles and obtuse, unlearnable languages are my dear brother’s passion,” Deep answered for him. “It’s one of the reasons he puts up with me so well.”