Free The Next Full Moon by Carolyn Turgeon Page A

one by one, began launching themselves into the sky.
    â€œSwan Maiden,” Ava thought.
    And then, under her, Helen’s body clenched and her wings rose into the air and suddenly the grass was far below them, the moon seemed so close, and they were risingtogether over the trees.
    Ava’s hair flew out behind her. The air streamed against her skin. She held on to Helen’s neck, and didn’t know whether to look up at the moon and stars or down below at the treetops, the curving, gleaming creek, the twinkling lights of the houses, and, farther away, much farther, the town, as she and the swan swam through the sky.

CHAPTER SIX
    â€œAva!”
    The banging seeped into her sleep. Over and over and over.
    â€œAva!!”
    She bolted awake.
    Sun streamed into the room. She looked at the clock. It was 8 a.m.
    â€œAva, you’re going to be late for school!”
    Her head ached. She felt as if she could sleep for hours more.
    â€œAvaaaaaa!”
    â€œYes, I’m coming,” she grumbled. “I’m getting up.”
    â€œSince when did you start locking your door? And leaving the gourmet dinners I leave for you in the microwave to rot?”
    Since I started growing feathers , she thought, automatically reaching up to feel her upper arms. To her surprise, her arms were smooth. Perfect. Smoother than they’d ever been before.
    And then she remembered the clearing and the swans, the beautiful woman, Helen, who'd shown up at the door, who'd taken her flying over the forest . . .
    And the spaghetti bolognese. Had she really forgotten to eat her father’s famous spaghetti?
    Either it was all true, or she’d had one very, very strange dream while, apparently, letting her father’s spaghetti rot. Which was really almost the strangest part.
    She shook her head, pushing the covers off of her, and looked around the room.
    Everything seemed normal. Her window slightly open, the smell of summer blowing in from outside. Flowers and warmth and freshly cut grass. She could hear the sprinkler going off in the backyard. A lawnmower in the distance.
    â€œAva,” her dad called from outside her door, “please do not turn into a sullen teenager on me. Your old dad may not be able to take it.”
    â€œDad, I’m getting ready!”
    She leapt up and stared at herself in the mirror. She was normal, perfect. In fact she had never been so happy to seeher normal self. So what if her stomach pooched and her upper arms could have been skinnier? So what if she couldn’t get a tan? She was completely feather free! Everything had been a dream, hadn’t it?
    A pang of sadness moved through her, a hollowness in her heart and gut, as she remembered the magical woman telling her that her mother was alive, a swan maiden, and that she would be able to see her. Imagine! Her mother with her long moon hair, transforming into a swan. She and her sisters swimming in the creek. Her mother never having really died, just having flown away. It was all so beautiful, but none of it had been real. Had it?
    And then suddenly she remembered something else. Under the bed.
    Her heart racing, she bent down, lifted the comforter . . . and there it was. The feathered robe. Ava reached in and pulled it out and spread it over the bed.
    The feathers sparkled in the sunlight. Seemed to breathe in and out, as if they were alive. She ran her palms over the robe and the feathers seemed to move into her hands, like before.
    She lifted the robe up to her neck, turned and faced the mirror.
    Outside, her father banged on the door.
    â€œI don’t hear a shower running, kiddo, and it’s 8:15!”
    â€œI’m showering right NOW,” she said, sighing, shoving the feathered robe into her backpack and stumbling into thebathroom.
    Sadly, exploring her magical new swan maiden robe would have to wait.
    School always got in the way of things that were important.
    Morgan was waiting on the front steps of the