Jungle Lost and Found | Teen Ink

Jungle Lost and Found

March 17, 2022
By Dahlia14, Braham, Minnesota
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Dahlia14, Braham, Minnesota
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Author's note:

This story came, rather spontaneously, out of another story. It spent a little while "marinating" while I figured out when, and how, I would write it. Now it's turned into even more than I had first thought. Interesting how stories work, isn't it?

“Look!” Rain squealed, causing them all to stop. “It’s a squirrel monkey! And she’s got a baby!”

  Princess Hazel grinned at her handmaiden. “You’re right. I wonder if that’s the one that the Wardens were talking about last night.”

  “I’ll check!” declared Hazel’s other handmaiden, Cove. She jumped from the ground to the tree, nimbly weaving her way up. 

  Hazel, Rain, and Hazel’s two guards, Root and Jasper, watched as she caught up with the monkey. 

  Cove turned to call down to them. “I don’t think it’s the same one. But I did find some vines. Want to try them?”

  The four friends grinned at each other. In a flash they were up the tree, joining Cove. 

  “I have to admit,” Jasper said, “I much prefer the trees to the ground.”

  The ground of their jungle home was overgrown with plants. Their people had given up on trying to maintain paths centuries ago.

  Root gasped. “I can’t believe it! You actually prefer the trees to the ground! You must be the first one to ever say that!”

  Hazel rolled her eyes affectionately. “All right, Root. We all know that’s not true.”

  “Yeah,” Jasper said smugly. “If I was the first to prefer the trees, then why would our people live in the trees? Hmm? Tell me that.”

  Now it was Root’s turn to roll his eyes, but without any affection.

  “Shh,” Rain said. “Less arguing, more swinging!”

  As she finished speaking, she grabbed a vine and leaped off the tree. Swinging over a large limb, she let go of the rope and landed lightly on a tree a hundred feet away. 

  The others joined her, swinging back and forth in the trees. For nearly a whole hour, there was no sound other than the laughter, shrieks, and shouted directions of the five teenagers. 

  Hazel leaped from a large branch, aiming for a tree straight across the grove. As she swung through the air, the tension of the vine changed. Her smile vanishing, she tried to swing to the closest tree. But before she could make it, she heard a snapping sound. The tension completely left the vine, and she was falling to the jungle floor. 

  “Hazel!” Root shouted.

  He leaped down from his tree, wading through the undergrowth. He finally made it to the place Hazel had landed, just as she sat up. 

  “I’m fine, Root,” she said breathlessly. “Got the wind knocked out of me. That’s all.”

  Up in the trees, the others looked relieved. 

  “Come on.” Root held out his hand. 

  Hazel took it and Root helped her through the thick undergrowth. Suddenly, Hazel froze. Her hand went to her neck. “My necklace!” she cried. “It’s gone. The one Father gave me!”

  Her companions looked startled and jumped down to join them. “The one you got from your father on your birthday?” Cove asked. “We have to find it!”

  They split up, searching through the excessive plants. They still hadn’t found it when Jasper pointed up. “We should be getting back. It’s getting late.”

  Hazel slumped into a pile of ferns. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I have to find my necklace.” Father gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. I can’t just leave it rust here.

  Root exchanged a look with Jasper and the girls. Jasper nodded and the handmaidens smiled. Root turned to Hazel. “The king and queen will worry. Jasper and the girls will go back to the palace. I’ll stay with you a little longer. Then we have to go, all right?”

  Hazel looked up, her eyes shining. “Yes! All right.”

  For a little longer they searched; they began to spread out, going farther in all directions. As they came back together, Root looked around. “Uh, Hazel? Do you remember where we started?”

  The princess looked around quickly. “No. Didn’t we start right over there?”

  Root struggled to the place where Hazel pointed. “This isn’t it. I left a mark on one of the trees. None of these trees have my mark.”

  Hazel’s face paled. “So we’re lost?”

  “Not necessarily,” Root quickly reassured her. “We just need to find out which direction we’re facing. Then we can know which way to go.”

  “Let’s climb,” Hazel said.

  They turned to the first tree and made their way up it. Root suddenly grabbed Hazel’s hand. Startled, she glanced back at him. He pointed at the limb beside him. “Look. Webs. There’s spiders in this tree. Be careful.”

  Hazel nodded. She had no interest in meeting one of the jungle’s deadly spiders.

  “We’re almost there!” Hazel called down to Root, panting a little.

  She could see the top of the tree. Sunlight was filtering through the leaves, casting a green light on everything. Almost there. She reached higher, trying to get into the sunlight so she could figure out which direction she was facing. Almost there.

  As she reached, her foot bumped something, and a few seconds later, a large, hairy spider burst out of the webs. Hazel screamed and jerked back, losing her grip on the limb. As she slipped, Root grabbed her hand, keeping her from falling out of the tree. 

  She dropped to a nearby limb, and let go of Root’s hand. “We have to move, Root!” she yelled. “There’s a spider up there!”

  Root began to climb down, then stopped. He reached for a short staff that he usually wore on his back. Speaking softly, he said, “Hazel, when I say, I want you to duck.”

  “There’s a spider behind me, isn’t there?” Hazel asked wearily.

  “Yes.”

  He readied his staff, then said, “Duck!”

  And he swung.

  The spider flew through the air, crashing against a web. As webs around them began to vibrate, Hazel and Root froze. Then Hazel grabbed Root’s hand and tugged. “Let’s move,” she said, leaping for another tree. 

  She caught the branch and swung to another; Root followed, swinging his staff once more to send another spider flying. “How many of these are there?” he asked.

  Hazel caught her breath. “I think they’re Coffin spiders.”

  “Really?” Root asked, pausing with his hands on his knees. “The most deadly spiders in the jungle. And we found their nest. It would happen that way, wouldn’t it?”

  “But I think I know where we are!” Hazel said excitedly.

  Before she could finish, a spider landed on the branch next to them. Hazel screamed and Root smacked it with his staff. 

  “Escape the spiders now!” he yelled. “Then figure out where to go!”

  The two scurried around the tree, avoiding spiders, and trying to find another tree to jump to. In this part of the jungle, where few people ever came, the trees were not as easily traversed.

  Just then, Hazel glanced back at Root and screamed, “Root, back up!”

  He stared at her for a second, then took a step back as a spider dropped from the branch above his head. Smack went the staff, and away flew the spider.

  Hazel smiled in relief, then jumped back as another spider dropped right in front of her. Unarmed, she backed up while Root sprinted closer. The spider’s front legs waved at her, then Root flipped over the spider and landed in front of Hazel. He swung his staff back, but the spider lunged forward and leaped onto his leg. 

  Root paled, and Hazel choked on her breath. Everything was silent for a moment before Root cried out in pain as the spider sang its fangs into his leg. 

  “NO!” Hazel screamed. She grabbed the staff from Root and hit the spider so hard it broke three branches before landing on the ground, dead.

  Root staggered back. “We need to go. Now.”

  Hazel nodded, and the two hurried through the trees. Now Hazel had the staff, and the spiders that were still chasing them continued to fly into trees and the undergrowth as Hazel’s arms swung the staff back and forth. 

  Then Root stumbled and slipped off the branch. Hazel reached out to grab his hand, but he slipped, landing on the ground. With one last swing at the spiders, Hazel leaped down to join him.

  Grabbing him under his shoulders, Hazel tugged him out of the ferns. She dragged him through the undergrowth, watching the spiders amassing on the trees. Her heart sank as she saw how many there were. How would they ever escape?

  “Help!” she screamed. “Please! Somebody help!”

  Her scream reverberated, but there was no reply. She continued to drag Root through the thick undergrowth, stumbling on roots, vines, and small plants. 

  Again and again she fell under Root’s weight. He was thin and athletic, but he was two years older than her, and at least a head taller. 

  The spiders drew closer, but Hazel couldn’t think about that anymore. All she knew was that one of her best friends was dying, and she needed to find a cure. If only Jasper was here. He knew about poisons and antidotes. He could help.

  Soon, all Hazel could do was focus on her own breathing. When she tripped and stumbled once again, she could hardly get up. The spiders’ mandibles clacked with pleasure as they drew closer. Their prey was wearing down.

  Hazel looked down into Root’s face. His eyes were closed, and his face was tight, as if in pain. Sweat from her forehead dripped onto his cheek. She quickly wiped it away, and then wiped her forehead.

  The spiders drew closer. 

  “NO!” Hazel screamed at them. “Go away!”

  “Need some help?”

  Hazel’s head whipped around, trying to find the voice. Finally, her eyes landed on a boy standing in a tree to her right. His eyes widened as she looked at him. “Princess Hazel?”

  “Don’t just stand there!” Hazel cried, making the boy jump. “Get rid of those spiders! Or help him! He’s been bitten!”

  The boy drew a horn from his side and blew. Soon, more men and boys arrived. They drove off the spiders quickly, while two men lifted Root from the princess’s arms. She watched as they lifted him into the trees, then hurried away. 

  Hazel stood up and hurried to the tree, noticing that the boy who had saved them was still watching her. He reached down to pull her up when her arms proved too weak to lift her weight.

  “This way,” he said. “I’ll show you to our village.”

  Hazel followed him, wondering what the people would say. Her hair was matted with sweat, her shirt stuck to her back, her shorts were filthy, her legs had turned a brownish-green, and her necklace was gone.

  

    

  She woke up on a low bed covered with rushes and reeds. A light blanket had been spread over her. She forced her eyes open and saw an older lady sitting at a nearby table, shredding papayas. 

  Confused, Hazel sat up and moved the blanket off of her. She looked around the small cottage. The bed that she sat on was one of four that were set up against two of the five walls. The table that the older lady sat at took up most of the cottage, other than the kitchen that sat at the far end. The door was perpendicular to the kitchen. 

  Against the fifth wall was a large bookshelf that was covered with books and other various educational things. A closet was tucked into a wall beside the biggest of the four beds. 

  Overall, the cottage was small, neat, and cozy. Hazel assumed that far more than four people lived here, judging by the length of the table, and the number of chairs.

  The woman was watching her, so Hazel smiled and stood up. That was a mistake: her head spun and she slowly sat back down again. When it cleared, Hazel asked, “What happened? How did I get here?” With a start, she remembered Root. She tried to stand up again, then gave up.

  “My grandson brought you here,” said the woman. “He told me you fainted along the way.”

  That explained how she had been in the trees one moment, and the next moment was waking up in a cottage. But she still needed to know what happened to Root. “The other boy with me. Is he. . .”

  The woman looked toward the door. “He’s with the healers. I wondered if we should have sent you too. You looked pretty awful.”

  The woman’s bluntness surprised Hazel. No one would have dared say such a thing to the princess; even if it was true, like right now. Hazel found herself liking the woman. 

  “I do look awful, don’t I?” Hazel agreed. “I guess I’m not used to running from spiders.”

  “Or dragging a full grown man,” the woman added.

  “Root’s not a man.” Hazel disagreed.

  The woman raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Will he grow anymore? Has he reached the age of adulthood? Is he more mature than most men older than him?”

  Hazel paused. “I suppose he is.”

  Since her head was no longer swimming and the room had stopped spinning, Hazel got up and went to find the healers. The woman stood with her at the door. “Over there. See that big hibiscus? The healers are right around the next limb.”

  Hazel nodded her thanks, then stepped out the door. The village swayed with the trees, rocking the paths. Hazel made her way to the hibiscus, then looked around. The healers office was easy to spot. It had been painted white, a color that stood out against the browns and greens of the trees around it. 

  She opened the door quietly and stepped inside. A man hurried up to her. “Can I help you?” As Hazel moved further in, the man recognized her. “Ah, Princess. Here to check on your guard?”

  When Hazel nodded, the man swept his arm toward a hallway. “Third door on the right.” 

  Hazel thanked him and hurried down the hall. She opened the door softly, and slipped inside. Root lay on a bed much like the one Hazel had woken up on. His face was still pale, but he didn’t appear to be in as much pain. 

  A nurse was standing beside him. She looked up and smiled as Hazel approached. “The worst has passed. He will recover.”

  “How long will that be?” Hazel asked.

  “A few days. Maybe a week,” said the nurse. “It depends on how long his body takes to get rid of the poison.”

  Hazel touched Root’s hand. He didn’t react, but Hazel bent closer and whispered, “It’s all right, Root. I’m safe. You’re safe. And you’re going to recover.”

  Still he didn’t move, but his face seemed more peaceful. Hazel sat with him a little longer, then left, knowing there wasn’t much she could do. Unsure of what to do now, Hazel returned to the cottage. 

  She sat next to the old woman, who was mashing bananas and sprinkling in cumin every so often. “Would you like help?” Hazel asked. “I don’t have much else to do.”

  The woman nodded to a bowl full of papaya skins. “Chop those up. I’ll mix them into this.”

  “Can you eat papaya skins?” Hazel asked, finding a knife to begin chopping.

  “If you make them the right way.” 

  They worked in silence for a few minutes, then Hazel spoke, “You said that your grandson rescued us. What’s his name?”

  “Linden.” The woman watched Hazel closely, but the girl never looked up from her work.

  “Is he here?” Hazel asked. “I should thank him.”

  “Linden left not long after he brought you here. His father took him and his brothers on the village hunting trip. Most of the men and boys are gone, and they’ll be gone for a few days.”

  “I should let my parents know I’m safe,” Hazel said. “They’ll be worried sick.”

  “The village already sent a messenger to inform the king and queen that you and your friend are safe, and that you’re both recovering.”

  Hazel smiled. “Your village is quite efficient.”


Hazel stayed with Linden’s grandmother, Orchid, in the cottage for a week, while Root recovered. As they were leaving, a horn blast shattered the quiet. Villagers came scrambling to the edge of the trees. 

  Root looked around. “What did I miss?”

  Orchid looked up from the pack of food that she was putting together for the two of them. “That was a hunting horn. My son is back. And, judging by the volume of that blast, with a large catch. The village will have a feast tonight.”

  Root glanced at Hazel. “It’s too bad we can’t stay for it, but we do need to get back.”

  “And we’ve already eaten enough of your food,” Hazel added.

  The two slung the borrowed packs over their shoulders, then hesitated. They had been told which direction was the palace, and Root had a map of places to avoid. But both of them wanted to thank Linden and the other men for rescuing them. Orchid noticed, but said nothing. 

  When the hunting party got into the village, they were lugging three antelopes, and a jaguar. Two boys carried baskets of fruits, and another boy held a container of spices they had harvested.

  Root studied each of the men, wondering which one was Linden. Hazel had only seen him once, and she had been preoccupied with concern and exhaustion. Still, she recognized him quickly. 

  Root glanced at her, eyebrows furrowed in a question. Hazel subtly indicated a tall blond boy. Root nodded.

  When the villagers had finished congratulating the men, and had begun to get the food ready, Hazel and Root approached Linden. He smiled, surprised to see them, but pleased.

  “We wanted to thank you for, well, saving our lives,” Root said, extending his hand. “I’m Root. Guard of the princess. But you probably knew that.”

  The boy grinned again. “I kind of gathered it. I’m Linden.” He took Root’s outstretched hand. “I have to admit, I never expected the princess and her guard to be anywhere near our village. Certainly never fighting Coffin spiders along the way.”

  Hazel shook her head with a smile. “We weren’t really fighting when you found us. It was more of a not-so-strategic retreat.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I found you.” Linden hesitated, then asked, “What were you doing so far from the palace?”

  Hazel drew herself up. “Well, I do like to take walks through the jungle. And as crown princess, I certainly should not ignore villages.” As Root grinned, Hazel dropped the fake indignant attitude she had put on. “Actually, we were looking for my necklace. We had been swinging on the vines in a grove northwest of the Piranha Thicket. I lost my necklace somewhere in that grove, and we got lost searching for it.”

  Linden nodded in understanding. “The undergrowth is difficult for things like that.”

  As Hazel and Root turned to head home, Linden said, “I’ll keep an eye out for that necklace.”

  Hazel turned around, her face shining. “Really? Thank you! Oh, and could you thank your grandmother for everything that she did for me this week?”

  Linden nodded. “Absolutely, Princess.”


After a day’s worth of traveling, the two friends finally arrived at the palace. The guards immediately threw open the gates and sent a message to the king and queen. However, Hazel and Root found them before the messenger.

  “Hazel!” her mother cried, throwing her arms around her daughter. “I’m so thankful you’re safe!”

  “Didn’t you get the message that was sent?” Hazel asked.

  “That message is the only reason the jungle is still rooted,” Hazel’s father said gravely. “When your handmaidens and Jasper returned without you, we were ready to uproot every tree in the jungle to find you.”

  “This from the guy who can’t even slap a tree when it drops a dozen coconuts on his head.” Hazel giggled at the whisper from her younger brother, Abungu.

  “So what happened?” Mother asked.

  As Hazel told them the whole story from beginning to end, Mother, Father, Abungu, Root, Jasper, Rain, and Cove—for the others had joined them—listened closely, awed by Hazel’s story.

  When she finished, the king declared, “We must thank this village somehow.”

  “I will have my council get right on that,” the queen agreed.

 

  A few months later, Hazel, Rain, and Cove were preparing for the Festival of Hibiscus. The Festival was to celebrate the birth of Princess Hibiscus, one of the five Flower Princesses who defeated Sir Donald centuries ago. Hibiscus had also brought the whole living in trees thing to another level.

  For the occasion, Hazel wore an outfit of pink and blue, with swirling leaf patterns. The shirt and pants were accented with a long, light skirt that tied around Hazel’s waist. 

  Made of thick, hard-to-snag material, the skirt was intended for ceremonial occasions in the trees. Cove and Rain wore similar outfits; and all the girls had braided their hair, and neatly pinned it up on top of their heads. Cove and Rain carefully slid a sparkling tiara into Hazel’s braids. 

 Just as they finished, someone knocked on the door. Rain opened it to reveal Root and Jasper standing there, dressed in ceremonial attire. 

  “Are you girls ready?” Jasper asked.

  “We are,” Hazel replied. 


  Wandering through the various tables and booths that people had set up for the festival, Hazel and her attendants enjoyed the carefree time they had. Cove pulled them over to a booth selling necklaces shaped like the bridges that spanned the jungle.

  As they admired them, and pointed out various places on the tiny amulets, Root nudged Hazel. When she glanced up, he nodded toward another booth. A tall boy and an older woman were looking at baskets woven from rushweeds, and decorated with piranha designs. 

  After exchanging a glance with Root, Hazel moved away from the necklace booth, heading toward the basket booth. As she drew nearer, she could hear the conversation. The man selling the baskets was telling a story about getting the rushes for one of his baskets.

  “I see the rushes, and I know that they gonna make the finest basket I could ever make. But the river’s leaping full of them ferocious piranhas. I say to myself, ‘It’s them or my baskets.’ So I splash through the water as quick as can be, and I grab them rushes, and I make it halfway back to the shore before I feels something grab my leg. Now I’m a brave man, but my heart was already in my throat, and I screamed and kicked at whatever was so foolish to try to take a piece of me.”

  The story continued, gathering listeners from all around. Hazel knew this merchant, and she had heard a version of this story several times. But some people hadn’t ever heard it before. As the story came to the thrilling conclusion—where he found out that it was only a vine that had bitten him, or something like that—Hazel was joined by her guards and handmaidens.

  As the crowd dispersed, Hazel walked closer. “If you liked that story, you should hear him talk about why he decorates some baskets with teeth. And then you need to hear how he gets the teeth.”

  The three turned to her in surprise, and some delight. Hazel flashed a warm smile at the merchant’s two customers. “Hello, Linden. Hello, Orchid.” 

  They smiled in return; the merchant bowed, “Thank you, Your Highness. Your praise warms my heart.”

  “I didn’t say the stories were good,” Hazel protested, but her eyes were twinkling. “They aren’t always very accurate, that’s for sure. And they’re definitely exciting. But I never said good.”

  “So you’ve heard his stories before?” Linden asked.

  “Many times,” Hazel replied. “But they do tend to change a little each time he tells them.”

  Orchid turned back to the booth, touching a blue basket. She reached into a small cloth bag. “I’ll take this blue one. How much will it be?”

  “The blue one is about three darts.”

  Orchid pulled out a handful of something and dropped it on the table. “How about seven Coffin spider teeth?”

  The merchant, the princess, the attendants, and even Linden stared at her.

  “How did you get Coffin spider teeth?” Jasper asked incredulously. 

  Orchid winked at Root and Hazel. “Linden found quite a trail of dead Coffins and brought them home to me. You’d be surprised how good they can taste if you cook ‘em right.”

  Hazel and Root shook their heads, not desiring to ever see a Coffin spider ever again.

  Turning back to the merchant, Orchid added, “And don’t worry, I drained all the poison out of ‘em.”

  “For these teeth, you could get one of these specialty baskets.” The merchant reached down behind his table and pulled out a pink basket. “They’re made with dye from the rarest flower on the island.”

  As Orchid and the merchant bartered back and forth, Hazel gestured to Linden. “Have you ever been to one of these festivals?”

  The tall boy shook his head. “I’ve always been needed back at home.”

  “Then let us show you around,” Cove said. 

  “Oh!” Hazel turned to her friends. “This is Linden, the boy who saved me and Root. Linden, these are my best friends. Jasper, Cove, and Rain. You already met Root.”

  Linden nodded to each of them. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

  Hazel turned to look at the other tables and booths. “This Festival only happens every five years. This is my third time, but I don’t remember my first time, so it’s more like my second time.”

  She continued to explain the Festival and how it worked, how it had started, and much more. As she spoke, her eyes traveled over the whole place, taking it all in.

  But the attendants were watching Linden, and the way that his eyes never left Hazel. He drank in her words, his eyes glowing. Cove exchanged a playful glance with Root.

  Hazel was almost finished when Abungu ran up. “Hazel!”

  Hazel turned to him, stopping mid-sentence. “Yes, Abungu?”

  “You need to come to the pavilion. The plant competition is about to start.”

  Hazel glanced back at Linden, their eyes meeting for a moment. Then she turned to Root. “Could you show Linden around? I can take over when the competition is done.”

  Root nodded. “Sure thing.”

  Hazel flashed him a smile, then followed her brother to the pavilion.

  

  When Hazel finally finished helping her parents judge the plant competition, she hurried to find Root and Linden. Cove pointed to a pool of miniature piranhas. “Try there. I’m still trying to figure out why your parents let people bring piranhas.”

  Hazel shook her head. “I am too.”

  Like Cove had said, Linden and Root were at the pool. As Hazel drew nearer, she could tell that the boys were having a lively conversation, complete with gestures and laughter.

  She hesitated, wanting to see Linden, but not wanting to interrupt them. Why did she want to see Linden anyways? It wasn’t just because he had saved her and Root. Was it? Was there something more?

  As she pondered this, a child broke away from his parents and hurried to the pool, yelling, “Fishies! I wanna pet a fishy!”

  The boy’s mother looked up and saw where he was going. She screamed. The boy stuck his hand in the water. He reached for one of the small but still ferocious piranhas. 

  Hazel froze. If that boy fell, he could be eaten alive. 

  Closer the fish swam, and the boy reached further. Suddenly a large splash interrupted the breathless moment. 

  Hazel was one of the first to realize what had happened. Root had thrown a mango into the pool right at the fish nearing the boy. He had another aimed and ready, should he need it.

  Linden quickly grabbed the boy and pulled him away from the pool. As he knelt down in front of the boy, Hazel could hear him telling the boy that those fish were dangerous. The boy’s mother soon arrived and scooped her son into her arms, crying and laughing and scolding all at the same time. 

  Root placed the mango back on the table he had grabbed it from. He joined Hazel and Linden as people started gathering to congratulate the boys. 

  At one point, Hazel glanced up at Linden, and found that he had just looked down at her. For a moment, they remained that way, Hazel’s brown eyes looking into Linden’s green eyes. There was something in his eyes that Hazel didn’t understand, but she wanted to.

  Then Root nudged Linden. “Here come the king and queen. You’re doing quite a good job getting their attention.”

  Linden grinned, and politely accepted the thanks given to him by the people, and by the king and queen. 

  “It seems we have much more than our daughter’s life to thank you for,” Hazel’s father said.

  Linden shrugged. “It was Root’s idea. He had the harder part.”

  “I know.” Hazel’s mother said, turning to Root. “We are quite thankful to both of you.”

  


  As Hazel and her attendants walked home that night, Hazel thought through the day. When she remembered seeing Linden and Orchid, her heart sped up. Confused, she moved on. Thinking of the merchant’s story made her smile, but again the thought of Linden made her heart do weird things. 

  She remembered explaining the festival to him, and wondering why he wasn’t looking where she was pointing. He had been looking at her the whole time. A chill ran down her spine, but she didn’t know why. It’s not like I’m afraid of Linden. 

  Then there was that time after the boys had stopped the piranha attack. Linden had met Hazel’s eyes, and she had seen something that she hadn’t understood then. But she did now.

  Hazel inhaled sharply, causing her friends to stop. “What is it?” Cove asked.

  For a moment, Hazel couldn’t speak. Then she whispered, “Nothing. I just . . . realized something.”

  Her friends exchanged confused looks and shrugs, but Hazel didn’t notice. She was deep in thought.

 

Weeks passed and one day, as Hazel struggled with calligraphy, there was a knock at the main door of Hazel’s rooms. Jasper got up from the desk where he and Root had been working out strategies for various situations. Hazel shook out her hand, sighing loudly. Thank goodness! I could use a break from all this torture.  

  “It’s not that bad,” Cove said, looking up from her own sheet. 

  Hazel glanced at Cove’s sheet and threw up her hands. “I should just let you do all the calligraphy I need to do when I become queen. I think you might be even better than Mother.”

  Jasper returned then, a smile on his face. “You have a visitor, Hazel.”

  Linden appeared behind Jasper, smiling shyly.
  “Linden!” Root greeted him. “Welcome to the castle!”

  The others laughed and greeted Linden just as warmly. He relaxed a little, but they could all see that his eyes never left Hazel. 

  “I have something for you.” He handed Hazel a cloth bag. As she examined the strange feeling fabric, he added, “It’s made from Coffin spider skin.” 

  Hazel handled it gingerly, despite catching the mischief in Linden’s eyes. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

  Linden’s eyes twinkled. “Look inside.”

  “There’s not a nest of baby Coffins in here, is there?” Hazel asked, carefully opening the bag and peeking inside.

  The bag was too dark to see what was inside, so Hazel would have to reach her hand in. Slowly, she slid her hand into the bag, making a face at the feel of the bag. 

  Then her hand touched something cool and hard. She carefully wrapped her fingers around it, pulling it out. When the bag finally came away from it, the light reflecting off the object in her hand cast spots all over the room.

  Hazel gasped. “My necklace! You found it!”

  In her hand lay the necklace that her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. The silver chain held a circular amulet in which her name was set in emeralds and green diamonds.

  As her guards and handmaidens gathered around her, Hazel glanced up at Linden. His face held something that was more than just “first love”. There was something permanent in that gaze. Somehow she knew that in his eyes, there would be no one else. Ever. 

  Stepping forward, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you so much.”

  When she stepped back, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. “We have to go tell my parents.”

  She expected her attendants to follow her, but they remained in the room. With a shrug, Hazel looked up at Linden, into his green eyes. She smiled, and he smiled back, his hand tightening around hers.

 

Four years later, Hazel held a bundle in her arms. A puff of dark hair peeked out of the blanket. Two eyes fluttered open and landed on her. Hazel gently touched the little cheek with one finger, whispering softly to her newborn son. “Hello, little one.”

  She looked up at Linden, her beloved husband of two years, who held their newborn daughter in his arms. He smiled at his own bundle with the same love that had drawn Hazel to him. He was a man of love. Deep love. He would be a good father, Hazel could tell.

  Linden sat down beside her, turning the blanket so that Hazel could look at the newborn princess. “What do you think about Juniper?”

  Hazel smiled. “It’s beautiful. I was thinking Vale.”

  “For her?” Linden lifted the blanket slightly.

  Hazel giggled. “No. For him.”     

  Linden smiled. “I like it.”



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