“If you don’t find the fern by morning, you’ll turn into a goat.”
Eduards shook his golden head, “Sure…”
“That’s not one of Uncle stories. You just made that up.”
“Don’t worry. I know a witch that can turn you back,” Audra declared raising her thick, black brows.
The children scrambled over the bracken floor, backlit, as the trees, by the sanguine hues of the great strawberry moon.
“I’m not going to turn into a goat.”
“Yes you are. You can’t find it.”
“Haven’t even got to where the ferns grow, yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. Hasn’t Uncle told you the story of the fern flower?”
“The fern flower can’t be found in company.”
Eduards stopped and turned to the young girl, with a puzzled expression.
“Ferns don’t have flowers.”
“They do. They’re just invisible. That’s what uncle said. Said they only appear tonight, June 24th. Will be the 25th soon.”
“If fern flowers are invisible, then how does Uncle know about them?”