by Lea Doué
Books 1-4 in The Firethorn Chronicles
The Firethorn Crown
The Midsummer Captives
The Red Dragon Girl
The Moonflower Dance
Novelettes and Short Stories
Red Orchid
Snapdragon
Sweet Basil
The Moonflower Dance
(Firethorn Chronicles 4)
Copyright © 2019 by Lea Doué
Design and Formatting by Damonza.
www.damonza.com
Editing by Laurel Garver
laurelgarver.blogspot.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced, or transmitted by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
ISBN (print) 978-0-9949113-9-1
ISBN (ebook) 978-1-989606-00-1
In loving memory of John,
gentle giant with a heart of gold
The Twelve Princesses of Ituria
Lily
Her Royal Highness Princess Lily, First Daughter and Crown Princess of Ituria
Gwen
Reluctant harp player and lover of horses
Hazel
Collector of sparkly things
Melantha
Twin to Mara, mapmaker, and expert dagger thrower
Mara
Twin to Melantha and lover of all things chocolate and canine
Neylan
Gardener, bookworm, and wearer of dragons
Junia
Healer and fan of all things pink
Coral
Lover of balls and dancing
Azure
Fearless runner and weapons enthusiast
Ivy
Watcher and keeper of secrets
Ruby
Identical twin and painter
Wren
Identical twin, painter, and dragon lover
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Acknowledgements
About the Author
The Firethorn Crown
Chapter One
“You’re the only dragon girl I want. I’ll see you soon. Safe travels.”
Neylan clutched the last letter she’d received from Keir, Master Healer of Mazereon, just before she’d left home to join her sister Melantha in the kingdom far to the northeast. She stood in front of a massive wardrobe, absently running one hand over the fine fabrics of a half dozen exquisite red dresses.
For months, she’d been looking forward to visiting a new court in a faraway kingdom, where no one knew the nickname that was whispered mockingly behind her back: dragon girl. An oddity among oddities—one of the twelve princesses of Ituria. She finally had a chance for a fresh start.
Keir alone called her dragon girl now, and for good reason. Her stomach fluttered as if tickled by invisible feathers. She would be meeting him for the first time in a few short hours.
“Aren’t they something?” Melantha, older by one year, sat cross-legged on the bed, wolfing down a light lunch of toast and eggs. She spit crumbs onto her dress as she spoke.
Neylan grinned, accustomed to Mel’s bad habits. “They’re beautiful. I’m glad you told me to pack light.” Although packing more books in place of clothes might not strictly fit that definition. “Which one should I wear first?”
Mel swallowed. “Start from the left and go down the line.”
“Sound plan.” Any of them would be perfect for her first meeting with Keir. She pulled out a dress and laid it on the bed to admire.
Someone knocked at the door, and then Neylan’s lady-in-waiting and childhood friend entered in her wheeled chair. “Will you be needing anything else before the party?” Euna asked.
“My sister can help me, Euna, thank you.”
Euna nodded. Before she left, she used a hooked stick to pick up Neylan’s travel-worn cloak where it had fallen from the back of a chair.
Neylan and Mara, Mel’s twin, had arrived at the palace the night before with just enough time to fall into bed before the sun rose. Melantha had come bouncing in all too soon to wake her so they could get ready for the garden party in honor of their arrival.
“You think the day dresses are nice, wait until you see the ballgowns.” Mel slid off the bed and placed her plate on the desk. “There’s a spare gown in the wardrobe, though, in case he doesn’t get the first one done in time. Belonged to the king’s late mother, I think. He’s finishing your gown for my wedding first. The dressmaker is, not the king.”
Neylan smiled. Mel clearly hadn’t come to her rooms to discuss fashion. “Out with it. What’s got you pacing a hole in the floor? Surely you’re not nervous about a little garden party.”
“Am I pacing?” Mel stopped and looked at her feet, hidden underneath layers of green silk. “I guess I am.” She wrung her hands and glanced everywhere except at Neylan.
A metallic glint on Mel’s finger caught Neylan’s attention. It wasn’t the compass ring she normally wore, which rested as usual on her right hand. This new ring circled the third finger on her left hand.
“You’re nervous about the wedding, aren’t you?”
Mel shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
Neylan slid her letter into the desk drawer and then grasped Mel’s hand to inspect the ring. A thin band of copper, expertly crafted to look rustic, held a rough chip of deep green jade. “Did Orin design this?”
Mel grinned, obviously pleased at her fiancé’s cleverness. “Copper for my hair and jade for my messenger dragon.”
“It’s beautiful. Will I get to meet Jade today? And Orin’s dragon?”
Come to think of it, the king’s fiancée also had a small messenger dragon, the third from the clutch of eggs Mel had found the previous summer. Normally, messengers were reserved for anyone who could afford to keep a handler—mostly royalty, nobility, and wealthy merchants. But Mel and Orin hoped to train them for isolated villages that needed fast and reliable contact with the outside world.
“I’ll fetch her before the party. Orin and I try to socialize them as much as possible, and letting them ride on our shoulders during formal events is good training.” She plopped onto the bed beside the dress and fiddled with her rings.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Mel’s face and neck reddened, and she avoided Neylan’s gaze. “I would have told you sooner, but we only just found out, and you were traveling, and—”
“Tell me what?”
“We have to leave. Orin and I. After the wedding.”
“Leave?” Neylan sat beside her. Why would they leave just when she’d arrived? Mel was the one who had sent for her in the first place, months before she and Orin had announced their engagement.
She stared at Mel’s rings, remembering the day the previous summer when Mara had told her their sister had run away. Orin had followed Melant
ha, of course, and Neylan hadn’t been surprised by either event. What had worried her was the news that during her adventure, Mel had become caught up in one of the most tangled curses ever heard of, possibly worse than the one all twelve of the sisters had been trapped in only months before that. Thankfully, Mel had made new friends along the way, including young King Sebastian and his fiancée Vanda, and, of particular interest to Neylan, their friend, Master Healer Keir.
Keir was the main reason for Neylan’s presence in Mazereon. Although Mel had helped break the main curse, and the kingdom was no longer trapped behind an invisible barrier, Keir still transformed into a giant black dragon each night. Even Vanda’s grandmother, a former sorceress, hadn’t been able to figure out why he hadn’t been freed with everyone else.
Neylan tucked her trembling hands under her knees. If everything went well, she might be the one to break Keir’s curse that very day.
Mel spoke again, pulling Neylan’s mind back to the topic at hand.
“We don’t want to leave, but Orin’s stepfather insists on meeting me. We got a note three days ago that Orin is to come home immediately.”
“But Orin’s been gone for almost two years. What’s a few more weeks?”
Mel sighed and flopped onto her back. “You don’t ignore a king’s summons, you know that.” She closed her eyes. “And here I thought we would be able to get away from all these garden parties and noisy dinners.”
Neylan pushed aside her own disappointment. Poor Mel. She hated court and formal events, and she was obviously nervous about meeting Orin’s family. Neylan lay on the bed beside her and squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine. And you’ll have Mara with you, I presume?”
On the journey to Mazereon, Mara had said that she wasn’t letting Mel out of her sight until she was sure her twin wouldn’t get into any more trouble. If that were the case, Mara would never leave Mel’s side.
Mel nodded. “I’m all about the journey. She’s all about the destination. Went on and on about the waterfall palace. Orin told her it’s loud, but she just rolled her eyes and asked how big the kitchens are. Not that Orin’s stepfather would allow her time for more than a tour, with several eligible sons still at home.”
Euna knocked and opened the door, Neylan’s hummingbird-sized aconite dragon hanging from a lock of her strawberry blonde hair. “Wist has been looking for you.”
The little dragon flew over and landed on Neylan’s knee. His feet tickled her as he tiptoed along her leg and stomach, all the way to her neck. He peeked his dark purple head over her chin and chirped.
After Euna closed the door, Mel plucked Wist off Neylan’s neck. “You’d better get ready. Mara will fume if we make her late to the party.”
Neylan slipped into the new dress. As soon as she finished tying the laces at the side, goosebumps broke out all over her arms, and her breath caught in her throat. Stars obscured her vision for a split second, until she blinked and shook her head.
“Are you all right?” Mel asked as she sat up.
Neylan nodded and cleared her throat. She should probably eat something soon. “Just nerves, I think.”
“I’m sure Keir feels the same way. He’s been waiting for ages to meet you.” She grinned slyly. “Maybe we can make it a double wedding.”
Neylan’s face heated, and she glared. “Don’t you dare say that to anyone else. Even if… even if I can break his curse, we’d still take our time before rushing into anything so… permanent.” She ran a hand along her skirt, which looked, and somehow felt, like hundreds of deep crimson rose petals overlapping from waist to hem. The bodice proved as velvety soft, and the supple sleeves draped gracefully over her shoulders. Mel had been right—the dressmaker did beautiful work.
“Do my hair for me?” Neylan held out a matching ribbon.
Mel joined her at the dressing table, biting her lip as she did sometimes to keep her mouth shut, and began twisting Neylan’s dark brown waves into a braid while Wist explored the room.
Despite her distaste for most aspects of palace life, Mel would be fine. Like a cat, she always seemed to land on her feet. Hopefully she would stay well away from sorcerers and curses from now on—not that she’d gotten herself tangled up with them on purpose before. None of Neylan’s sisters had, but since their shared run-in with a sorcerer named Tharius almost a year ago, three of them had once again come face-to-face with a sorcerer’s handiwork.
Neylan couldn’t let that happen again. She’d answered Mel’s first letter with the goal of not only helping Keir, but also of putting a stop to her sisters getting hurt. Vanda’s grandmother, or Gram as everyone called her, would be her key to doing that.
Mel coiled the braid into a low knot and stuck in the first hairpin. Wist landed on her shoulder to watch.
It had always seemed unfair to Neylan that sorcerers had access to knowledge that other people didn’t—no one had ever found any written words teaching the feared subject. She had no desire to do the kinds of things Tharius had done. He had grown up in darkness, so of course he would use his knowledge in a twisted way. And yet… he had revealed an unexpected beauty in sorcery. Could she not sift through the dregs for hidden gems and use those to keep her family safe?
Because she knew better, she would do better.
She’d spoken with one other sorcerer in her life besides Tharius. Her sister Ivy’s bodyguard, an ex-sorcerer like Gram, had shared glimpses of what he knew. But her parents had no doubt ordered him to be tight-lipped, as he was a master of changing the subject.
Hopefully, Gram would be different, if only someone would have the nerve to speak with her and be open to listening and learning. Neylan was ready to do that. She would finally have the knowledge to keep her sisters free from meddling sorcerers once and for all.
“There.” Mel pushed in one last pin. “Time to stop daydreaming and get this party over with.”
Wist hopped over to Neylan’s shoulder and inspected the finished result of Mel’s labor. With a satisfied chirp, he climbed onto the coiled braid and curled up for a nap. His dark purple hide blended well with her hair, making him difficult to see unless he moved.
Orin arrived to escort them to the garden party. Wist chirped a cheerful greeting at Orin’s dragon companions, one on each shoulder, but otherwise didn’t budge.
One of the green messenger dragons leaned forward and reached out a paw as if to pull Wist’s tail.
“Hunter,” Orin warned.
The dragon backed off, a disappointed look on his face, and ruffled Orin’s blond hair as if that was what he’d meant to do all along.
The lighter green dragon, Jade, stepped daintily onto Mel’s shoulder.
Orin kissed Mel’s cheek and took her hand. He offered Neylan his other arm. “Mara is waiting for us down the hall.”
Like Neylan, Mara wore red in honor of Vanda being the king’s “red dragon girl.” Many of the other ladies invited to the garden party would be wearing red for the same reason.
Or so they thought.
One of the few things Neylan knew about curses: there was always a way out, and sorcerers had to tell you if you asked—although they didn’t have to give a straightforward answer.
The words to break King Sebastian’s curse had seemed simple enough: free your red dragon girl, and you free yourself. Vanda, now his fiancée, had been identified as his red dragon girl early on for a variety of reasons, including her possession of a red, dragon-embroidered scarf. He had succeeded in freeing her by helping her escape the invisible barrier that had been raised over his kingdom.
And now, according to Gram, they simply needed to find Keir’s red dragon girl to free him from the unexplained complication to the curse that continued turning him into a black dragon each night.
After Mel’s initial letter detailing Keir’s curse and inviting her to Mazereon, Neylan had also corresponded with Vanda and King Sebastian, or Baz, as he insisted they call him. In her last letter, Mel had told her about a plan they’d put into place t
o help Keir find his girl: a series of balls with a number of promising ladies in attendance, as backup in case things didn’t work out with Neylan.
They need not have worried. Keir’s final words had been far more confident than Mel’s.
You’re the only dragon girl I want.
Mara linked arms with Neylan, letting Orin and Mel take the lead as they exited the garden manor, which stood separated from the palace by the extensive gardens. The two-story stone structure had once served as home to a former king’s mother-in-law, and now housed only Gram and her entourage on the second floor. Baz had promised Vanda that he would keep her grandmother safe, and, true to his word, he’d surrounded the former sorceress with staff and servants who were also members of the elite Dragon Guard. No one would disturb Gram’s solitude without her permission.
Thankfully, Neylan had persuaded Baz to let her room on the ground floor. Uneasy about sharing her interest in discussing sorcery with Gram, even among friends and family, she cited her interest in the gardens. She suspected Keir had convinced his friend to let her stay wherever she would be happiest.
The side door led immediately into an avenue of the gardens shaded by late-blooming pink dogwood trees hung with bronze lamps that would be lit come evening. Neylan breathed in the floral scents, missing her own corner of the gardens back home. She’d found Wist there over a month ago, huddled among the new growth of sweet basil, his injured wing coated in venom from a rival aconite dragon. Thankfully, aconites were immune to most venom and poisons, and often ingested such substances as part of their regular diet.
Orin led them along wandering paths until they reached a cobblestone clearing surrounded by trimmed hedges. Musicians played a jaunty tune from a latticed gazebo, while a score of people milled about, with more seated at tables laden with refreshments. Surrounded by the dark-skinned Mazereons, redheads Mel and Mara stood out like fire among coals.