Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore #1) - K.A. Merikan Page 0,75

the trees and reaching the most secretive of spaces that no human ever stepped into.

There was only so much self-control Emil had. He grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled him into a gap between dense juniper bushes. “About time to go off the beaten path then.”

The warm fingers twitched in his hand, and for a scary moment Emil feared Adam would pull away, but they squeezed back instead as the two of them stepped across a field of whortleberry plants, sinking their feet in its dark green waves.

“This flower… does it actually exist, or is it all a legend?”

Emil smirked and traversed the small clearing, making note of the direction, so he could guide them back later. Though, while there wasn’t a clear path in sight, some of the branches ahead had been trimmed for ease of passage, and he headed that way, curious of what they might find. Because if not the legendary flower, then maybe Koterski’s secret marijuana field. That man had to be earning money for the house he was building somewhere, because the forest ranger job definitely didn’t pay enough to cover the fancy-shmancy stonework in his driveway.

“To be perfectly honest, I’ve never found a fern flower and no one else has ever come back with one, even though everyone knows someone who knows someone who saw it. It’s a bit of a myth, but I wanted to get away from it all, and I always loved this part of Kupala Night. There’s something magical about walking through the woods tonight.” Emil pointed at Adam’s face. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m only a sap when it’s appropriate.”

Adam’s hand curled around Emil’s as they continued past some evergreen bushes, careful not to trample the small plants on the way, and while Emil wouldn’t allow hope into his heart anymore, he had every intention of enjoying this moment for what it was. An offering of friendship, even if the sparks that kept buzzing between their bodies were to never turn into fireworks again.

“The celebrations are interesting. When you think about it, people are naturally afraid of fire and deep water, but on this night our ancestors were willing to break many taboos. Swim after dark, even though they believed there were monsters lurking under the surface. Jump over fire… I don’t believe anything you all did back there can bring luck, but it did feel special. Despite Nowak constantly yapping as if he were the most embarrassing master of ceremony on the planet.”

Emil laughed out loud, walking without haste with the torch in one hand and Adam’s fingers in the other. “There are no monsters left after you blessed the water. But I wouldn’t there jump in before that. No one wants a drowner grabbing their ankle.”

Adam smiled at him as they neared a dense thatch of evergreen trees. “If that flower is so hard to find, we should look in places that are less accessible. Everyone will be busy pushing tongues down one another’s throats, which leaves us to take the cream.”

Emil had no idea if Adam realized how suggestive his words were, but as his balls tingled, he headed for the trees, looking for an opening.

He found it at last—a space between two bladdernuts, which lured him in with the sweet scent of their blossom.

“There’s something in there,” Adam said and pushed through the barrier of greenery, as if for this one night, he’d shed all his fears.

Unease clutched at Emil’s throat though, when he realized that beyond a wall of three rows of densely-growing thuyas was a clearing that seemed to not only resemble a rough circle the size of a small church, but was also devoid of young trees, which must have been weeded out on purpose.

His shoulders relaxed though when he faced a steep rocky wall as tall as his house and an oval-shaped boulder laid out in front of it like an altar pointing away from the cliff. Evergreen bushes grew on both sides like natural decorations, and a small path led up the side of the steep hill. “Damn. I think Grandpa brought me here a few times when I was young. I barely remember, but I think he called it Devil’s Rock or something like that,” he whispered, and when he approached the ancient stone with the torch, he couldn’t help but notice the smooth surface at the top, or the dark stains that reminded him of oxidized blood—a silly notion he quickly dismissed.

At the narrow end of the altar, right

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