Leaves in Her Hair – Excerpts 2

Excerpt From Leaping Scene

“Come! It is full moon. Shall we dance?”

He picked up his flute where it lay beside the oak tree, and put it to his lips. Such a ripple of music flowed out that Lyra could not help laughing. She stood up, feeling the flute song in her body, and began to dance.

Barefoot over the green grass she danced. Derwydd’s flute song became more and more lively and comical. He was soon dancing with her, bending and swaying, tossing his leafy hair as he played. Then he began leaping. He leaped around the little clearing, long leaps, higher and higher, hanging in the air, floating, coming down so lightly that Lyra couldn’t tell if he touched the ground before soaring up again.

He held out his hand. “Come. Leap with me.”

Full-moon magic had taken her. She did not question but caught his hand and together they leaped, long, soaring leaps, hanging in the air longer and longer before coming down. They were in the light, and all was possible.

When at last they came to rest by the stream, Lyra was breathless, half-laughing, half- crying.

“Derwydd, that was incredible! How did we do that? I felt as if we were flying!”

“It is easy. You find the light, and then you are light.” He laughed. “It is easy.”

“I find the light? Oh, it is easy when you hold my hand!”

“You can do it without my hand.” He put his flute to his lips and brought forth an irresistibly bubbling song. He stopped just long enough to say, “Leap now!” and played again.

Lyra stood up and leaped, but it was only an ordinary leap, high and beautiful, for she was a skilled dancer, but nothing she hadn’t done before in her many hours of practice.

She stopped, disappointed. “I can’t. I can’t do it without holding your hand.”

Derwydd laid down his flute and came to her. “You need to find the light. Remember when we practiced raising the sacred fire?”

“Yes. I have practiced. I’ve needed to.”

“Good. Good. You do not always need to stir the sexual fire to find the light. You just need to focus. Feel the heat in your tailbone, bring it up. When it reaches your heart, spread your arms.” He spread out his long arms to show her. “Then when it reaches your head, just leap out the top of your head.” He laughed, and leaped so high he reached the lower branches of the oak tree. He soared there a long moment before coming lightly down.

Lyra watched in awe. “I do not think I can do that.”

“Do not doubt. Come now. Find the heat in your tailbone.”

Lyra focused. She found the heat in her tailbone and began to bring it up.

“Good, good,” Derwydd encouraged her. “Now open your arms.”

Lyra felt her heart glowing and opened her arms.

“Be sure to keep your neck loose. Now leap!”

Light exploded in Lyra’s head and she leaped a long, floating leap. Derwydd picked up his flute and played for her. Lyra leaped and leaped, ran and leaped again, soaring in the moonlight, crying out with joy as she floated across the whole clearing in a single leap. Derwydd’s flute music was sweet, strange and wild, carrying her on its song.

He gave a last, wild trill on his flute, threw it over his shoulder, and held up his arms to catch her as she came floating down. She brought her lips to his, twined her arms around his neck, and pressed her warm, lithe body against him as she slid slowly to earth. When their lips parted, Derwydd groaned.

“Lyra, Lyra, coming this close to being human is perilous, perilous indeed. How do you humans bear such passion?”

She kissed him again, stilling his words. “Fill me with your love light,” she whispered between kisses.

They sank into the soft grass. The moon, high above the clearing, shone down on their love.

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