Free Green Rider by Kristen Britain

Karigan out of the room, "it's been a long time since I've seen the moonstone aglow. It will not work for Bay or me."
    "Moonstone?"
    "Oh, yes. It holds a silver moonbeam."
    Hairs prickled on the back of Karigan's neck. "You aren't telling me it's really—"
    "Of course I am. It was given to Father by an Eletian years ago." Miss Bunchberry smiled, and her eyes became dreamy. "I rather fancy the story of Laurelyn the Moon-dreamer and how she built a castle of silver moonbeams, don't you? Silvermind it was called. My father wanted to go find it, but other projects diverted his attention, and before he knew it, he was too old for adventuring."
    Laurelyn the Moondreamer. Karigan had heard the story as a tiny child, and had forgotten it long since. In her memory, she could hear the words as she sat wrapped in her mother's protective arms. "Tell me 'bout Laur'lyn, Momma. Tell me again." Her request was met with a warm chuckle. "Maybe you will build your own castle of moonbeams one day, Kari." And the story would be repeated till she fell asleep.
    "Have I made you sad?" A startled expression crossed Miss Bunchberry's face. "Are you in pain?"
    Karigan wiped away a tear. Yes, and yes . Aloud she said, "I'm fine."
    Aromas of roast goose and baked bread drifted through the house, reminding her of Midwinter Festival: loud music, wild dancing, and plenty of imbibing. Her father always invited the cargo master and crew, and all the closest kin of Clan G'ladheon. Her mother used to preside over the affair, an element of calm and dignity amidst the frenzy of merrymaking. Her mother, with her high forehead and rich brown hair, the one parent everyone saw when they looked at Karigan.
    The tears brimmed in her eyes again, but her solemn thoughts were dashed when she saw Miss Bayberry sitting primly at the head of a ridiculously long table that rivaled, in length, any in the dining hall at Selium. The silver was in use again, and the table was positively heaped with food. Karigan wondered exactly what clan had been invited to feast with them.
    "Please be seated," Miss Bayberry said.
    Fortunately, the three settings had been placed at one end of the table, rather than at opposite ends. Otherwise they would have had to shout to one another to carry on a conversation.
    Miss Bayberry dropped a cloth napkin on her lap. "F'ryan Coblebay couldn't join us though we did the proper thing and invited him. It seems he expends far too much energy when in contact with that which is earthly, and he wishes to reserve it for times when he's truly needed." She sniffed, indicating how she felt about that. "The Horse couldn't join us either. Letitia was resolute that she would not have him in the house. To help compensate, Rolph has been feeding him premium grain and the sweetest hay."
    "As you can see," Miss Bunchberry said, "we've observed proper etiquette. Letitia wouldn't have us dine in the kitchen, though Bay and I normally sup there. What fun it is to see Mother's old table in use once again. From time to time, relatives or my father's old colleagues would descend upon Seven Chimneys. Letitia would cook and bake all day in anticipation. Those were grand times."
    Goose and sauce were passed around, along with the last of the winter squash, legumes, mushrooms, and dressing. A slice of warm bread spread with creamy honey butter melted in Karigan's mouth. It was like a traditional Midwinter Feast, except it was spring. Miss Bayberry poured Rhovan red wine in each goblet and Karigan could only guess at the vintage.
    It was like spending an evening with a pair of spinster aunts, eccentric as they were, but oozing comfort and a sense of home. The canny intensity Karigan had witnessed before seemed to dissipate as the evening wore on and the wine bottle made its rounds.
    When they had eaten all they could, they removed to the parlor where glasses of brandy awaited them, and the fire roared in the hearth as cheerfully as ever. Karigan sank into the sofa with the