Chapter 1
"And where exactly do you think you're going, young lady?"
Alicia stared guiltily. Her hope of slipping quietly out of the house had just vanished.
"To the Gathering of the Waning Moon, Grandma."
The old woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "The Gathering of the Waning Moon? I didn't know you meant to go."
"I – er – reconsidered. All the witches are going to be there, you know."
Her grandmother gave her a scrutinizing look. "What do you have in your bag, then?" she demanded.
"Just some ginger lemonade to drink along the way."
"Along the way?" Grandmother's eyebrows climbed up a notch. "But surely you don't mean to walk – you'll be flying on your broomstick, right?"
Alicia let out an exasperated sigh. "Gran, I'm twenty-one years old. Can't I get out of the house without facing an interrogation?"
"Alright," Grandmother gave in. "Yes, you're all grown up now. Gone are the days when I could control your comings and goings. But I can still give you some advice, so listen carefully: that boy is no good."
"What boy?" Alicia did her best to look innocent.
"I'm not stupid, you know," snapped Grandmother, turning to walk back to the warm hearth. "Just don't stay out too long."
… Snufkin was sitting in front of his tent, playing a wistful tune on his harmonica. When he saw Alicia, he got up and smiled.
"I feared you won't be able to get away."
"I'm always able to get away when I want to," she told him, smiling as well. "Here, I brought some ginger lemonade," she added, pulling two bottles out of her bag.
They settled down on the riverbank to drink their lemonade and watch the waters roll lazily by. Alicia saw how a few yellow and brown leaves drifted gently down from the trees slowly and floated downstream. There could be no denying it: summer was at an end.
"It's getting colder," remarked Snufkin. "There was frost on the grass this morning."
"I suppose you'll want to head south soon?" she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Yes, I guess so," said Snufkin. "The road is hard, but there's so much to look forward to at the end of it – the colors are all brighter in the south, the birds are like jewels darting above the fields and trees, and best of all, it's warm… always warm."
Alicia shivered slightly and hugged her shoulders, wishing she had brought her shawl. "I wouldn't say no to a bit of warmth," she admitted.
Snufkin got up. "I know someplace warm where we could go," he said, holding out his hand for her. Alicia took it and got up from the riverbank as well. Snufkin closed the flap of his tent and they started walking together.
Alicia's face lit up with delight once she saw where he led her. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "The hot spring! I come here to gather herbs sometimes. They have some wonderful magical properties – "
"I'm not sure about the magical properties, but they sure smell nice," said Snufkin, approaching the bank of the small, round hot pool. Vapor was rising in a silvery mist above its surface. "I often come here, too. This spring is better than a bath - the water never grows cold."
"Close your eyes," said Alicia, taking off her cloak. He did. Alicia slipped out of her clothes, feeling goosebumps erupt all over her skin. She hastened to step into the spring and lowered herself into the hot water so that only her shoulders and head were visible. It was a very enjoyable feeling.
"This is nice," she said dreamily. "You can open your eyes now, Snufkin. I'll close mine if you want to get in as well."
Once they were both settled in the hot water, Snufkin leaned back and smiled at her through the curtain of vapor.
"Does your grandmother know you have gone to see me?" he asked.
"It seems there's nothing Gran doesn't know," said Alicia.
"She doesn't like me." It was a statement, not a question.
"She believes you interfere with my studies."
"Do I?" asked Snufkin.
"Snufkin, I came here to live with Gran when I was thirteen years old, and ever since I haven't done much more than study. It's time to live, don't you think?"
A dreamy expression appeared on his face. "It's always time to live," he whispered, shifting closer to her. Alicia's cheeks, which were already flushed from the heat, became redder still. They have never been together like this, in complete privacy and with nothing separating their bodies but the warm water of the spring. Their lips met in a kiss that made her heart flutter, but it tasted of autumn.
"Snufkin," she said in a low voice. "It's always warm here at the spring. We can always come here when we want to forget about the cold. Why don't you stay home this winter?"
Even before she finished talking, she knew it was no good. Snufkin was shaking his head.
"You know," he said, "many have asked me why I must journey south each autumn. For a long time, I didn't have a clear answer to that. I tried to explain, to find the right words, until I gave up. I am like the birds, that go south because they have to, without asking why or how. And like the birds, I always come back." His finger slid down her cheek and lifted her chin so that their eyes met. "Come springtime, I will meet you right here, Alicia."
She believed him. Snufkin always came back; she knew he would be back this time as well. She also knew he would go, and there could be no stopping him. She felt stupid for thinking she might have the power to alter his plans – and angry with herself as well. She averted her face so that he wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.