A Nearer Moon by Melanie Crowder Page B

back.”
    Luna scuffed her foot against the dirt floor and kicked the legs of the worktable. A shower of dust settled over her hair and shoulders. She sneezed, and kicked the table once more for good measure. “Yeah, well, your stupid sprites can have their stupid swamp.”
    Uncle Tin chuckled, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “Everything is good for something, Luna. Even things that don’t seem like it on the surface. Even the swamp that made your sister so sick.
    â€œIt’s the silt from the swamp that makes our soil sorich. It’s the flowers that grow along the edges that keep the mouse deer and the honeybees close. I know it’s hard now, but you’ll see—no one thing in this world is pure evil or pure good.”
    The air in the shed seemed to whistle in Luna’s ears, and a sweat broke out at her hairline. She collected the herbs and backed away. “Well, thanks, Uncle Tin.”
    Magic. Hmph.

    Luna poured water over the herbs and set the whistling kettle aside. She cupped the mug between her palms and watched the herbs unfurl in a ponderous dance, the aroma of steeping mint rising with the steam to wash over her face.
    Tap, tap, tap.
    Benny peered in through the screen door, waving when Luna rose to meet him. “Hey!”
    â€œ Shhhh . You’re going to wake them both.” She jerked her head back toward the bed where Willow lay and the rocking chair where Granny Tu slept, her mouth open wide enough to catch a swarm of flies.
    â€œIt’s time for you to bust out of here, Luna. Have you even seen the sun in a week?”
    â€œI’m busy.”
    â€œWell, get unbusy.”
    â€œI can’t go mucking around with you when Willow’s not even strong enough to lift her baby finger.” But Benny was right. Luna missed the feel of her push pole in her hands and the coarse belly of her boat under her bare feet. She missed laughing. She missed having something to laugh about.
    â€œI’ll tell you one thing: If Willow could string a scolding together, she’d tell you to get out of that sickroom and quit moping around.”
    Luna crossed her arms over her chest.
    â€œCome on. You know she wouldn’t want this.”
    Luna sighed. “All right.” She slid past the screen door and stepped out onto the porch with Benny. “What is it?”
    â€œThe firecrackers for Willow, of course! Perigee is next week, and I want to set some off where she can see them from her window.”
    Luna rubbed her eyes. Perigee already? Willow’s sickness would only last three weeks, and it had already been one—Luna ticked the days off on her fingers—one and a half. She swallowed past a hard lump in her throat. Her sister wouldn’t live much past the festival.
    â€œOkay. But I don’t want to be gone too long. What do you need me for?”
    â€œYou take your boat out there in the middle of the swamp. I’ll wait by Willow’s window so I’ll know whatshe can see and what she can’t.” Benny thrust a heavy sack with a rope and a float attached into Luna’s hands. “When you get where I can see you, drop that in the swamp, so I’ll know where to set off the firecrackers.”
    Benny went around the back of the hut while Luna climbed down the ladder and stepped into her boat, untying and shoving off in one fluid movement. It felt good to have her boat under her feet again, to feel the muscles of her legs flexing and straining to keep her balance. She thrust her pole into the mud and pushed out into the middle of the swamp.
    When Luna was far enough away from the huts and the low-slung walkways, she turned in a slow circle and waved over her head to Benny. She lifted her pole into the air and Benny scrunched down until his eye line was level with the windowsill.
    â€œLeft, left,” he mouthed, his arm jabbing in the air over his head. “No—too far—go back!” His arm