The Moonflower Dance

by Lea Doué

  “Is that your favorite?” Keir asked.

  “My favorite?”

  He pointed to the flower.

  “Oh, no. There are far too many to choose a favorite. And some of the most beautiful plants don’t have proper flowers at all.”

  He nodded as she stood, and they continued walking.

  After a few more minutes of silence, she still hadn’t worked out what she wanted to say to him, so she used Wist as a starting point. “Speaking of Wist, I thought he might be useful in helping you weed out some of the ladies. For Vanda’s sake. She and Baz have gone to so much trouble organizing the balls, it wouldn’t hurt to at least look like you’re playing along, until we can find out what’s really going on.”

  He blinked. “Do you want me to wear him to a ball and see what happens?”

  She laughed. “No, although that might speed things up. I’m just wondering if there are any other qualities you’re looking for besides bravery in the presence of thumb-sized dragons.”

  As if aware he was being talked about, Wist landed on her head, plucked the foxglove from behind her ear, and nibbled on it.

  “That’s poisonous.” Keir lunged for the flower.

  Neylan grabbed his wrist as Wist flew off with an annoyed squawk, clutching the foxglove tightly.

  “Aconites can eat whatever they want, remember?”

  He lowered his arm, but her fingers still circled his wrist.

  Wist landed on her hand and wrapped his tail around Keir’s thumb to steady himself. He offered the flower to Keir.

  “He thinks you were making a grab for it because you wanted some.”

  Keir smiled, the first true smile she’d seen from him since he’d laughed at Wist reclining on her head during the garden party. “Thank you,” he said to the little dragon. He took the petal, smelled it, and then offered it back to Wist, just as Neylan would have done.

  Wist popped it into his mouth and chewed as he walked up Keir’s arm. When he reached his shoulder, he curled up near Keir’s neck, tucked his head under his wing, and dozed off.

  Keir cocked his head at an awkward angle, trying to see the dragon at his collar. “Won’t he fall off?”

  “Maybe, but he’ll wake up before he hits the ground.”

  He nodded as if having a dragon on his shoulder happened all the time and then glanced at Neylan still holding his wrist.

  She let go, her face heating. “Right. Where were we?”

  Keir took her hand, looked into her eyes, and spoke softly. “Making a list of desirable qualities for my red dragon girl.”

  Another wave of heat washed over her face. She tore her gaze away and continued walking, but she let him keep hold of her hand. “Yes. So…” She shrugged, unsure where to start. “Maybe you could begin by eliminating some of the girls based on age or height or some other superficial things?”

  After a thoughtful pause, he said, “Well, now that you mention it, I’m not very fond of red.”

  She grinned, thinking of all the red dresses in her wardrobe, but his expression remained serious. “Really?”

  “I see it enough as a healer. I wouldn’t hold it against a lady for having red hair, of course.”

  “Do you have a favorite color, then?”

  “I could say there were too many to choose from, but I’m partial to yellow.”

  She smirked. “I haven’t seen many blondes among the guests, so that may narrow things down quite a bit.”

  He laughed with her. Wist stirred but remained asleep.

  They passed through an alley of multi-colored roses, their scent heightened in the warm, humid air.

  “Well, now I know your favorite color, but we’re no further ahead. There must be a couple of qualities you’re looking for. Something besides the obvious ones like a tolerance for small dragons.”

  After a short pause, he shrugged lightly, so as not to dislodge Wist, and then rattled off a list. “All right, then. Why don’t you see if you can find me someone well-read who can name all the plants in the gardens, doesn’t faint at the sight of blood, won’t flee in panic when a raindrop hits her hair, doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty, knows how to boil water under pressure, doesn’t lose all sense in unexpected situations, and smells like lilacs.”

  Neylan stopped and blinked at him. All she could think was I smell like lilacs. It’s my favorite scent. Out loud, she said, “Boil water?”

  Keir raised an eyebrow. “Don’t forget a perky nose and wavy brown hair.”

  “Hey! I don’t have a perky—”

  He laughed.

  She suppressed a grin and cleared her throat. “Sure. No problem. We’ll start by eliminating all the gossips and focusing on ladies who spend their free time in the library and gardens.”

  “Know anyone who fits that description?”

  “Two or three, perhaps.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I only need one.”

  She bit her lip. “I know this isn’t easy. No one should ever have to endure such things.” Her other hand clenched into a fist thinking how Lily had struggled under the silence Tharius had imposed upon her, how Gwen and Hazel had been trapped in the forest by stone monsters, and how Melantha had been imprisoned within the invisible barrier around Mazereon.

  Keir didn’t respond, but his shoulders lowered as if feeling the burden physically.

  “Why don’t we try to see Gram again?” She pulled him along faster. “Right now.”

  As if it had been holding off just for them, the rain fell in earnest as soon as they passed the door guard and entered the garden manor. Their visit, however, proved disappointing. Gram was resting once again.

  “I could get Baz to order her to meet with us,” Keir said as they retraced their steps down the hallway, “but I think Vanda might have more luck asking.”

  “Has Gram not talked to anyone?”

  “Not lately.”

  Reluctant to admit her desire to discuss sorcery with Gram alone, she said, “I… I suppose waiting one more day won’t…” She almost said hurt, but after witnessing his transformation from a distance, the word stuck in her throat. “One more day won’t matter in the long run.”

  He moved as if to rub the back of his neck, and then pulled his hand away when he realized Wist still slept on his shoulder. “Yes. Right.”

  She stopped and leaned against the wall a few yards from the exit. Rain drummed against the doors. “Euna should return soon. Have you ever ridden a rock dragon yourself?”

  “I have, but I prefer horses.” He stood in front of her far enough away that she didn’t have to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. “They might be more skittish and not as intelligent, but they’re also not prone to racing every chance they get.”

  “You don’t like the speed?”

  “It has its place, but no, I don’t like riding fast unless I have a reason.”

  “Flying must be fast.”

  He didn’t respond, but his expression became blank.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Mel didn’t think much of it.”

  She let out a small sigh, grateful that he wasn’t upset at her for bringing it up. “She told me as much, but I think it would be brilliant to see the city and the countryside from above.”

  His gaze strayed down the hallway. “I never thought of it that way.” After a few minutes of silence, he looked at her again. “Would you… would you like to go flying with me tonight?”

  Flying. Her heart skipped a beat, the thought both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

  Chapter Five

  Neylan stared at Keir, at a loss for words. Should she accept his invitation to fly with him? Mel’s wedding was tomorrow. She should be sensible and get some rest.

  But she wanted to fly.

  With Keir.

  A worried crease formed between his brows.

  She pushed away from the wall and took a step towards him. “I’d like to fly wi
th you, but…”

  He waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he said, “It will be perfectly safe. I still have the saddle Baz used before, so you needn’t be worried about falling off.”

  “It’s not that. I mean…” Her face heated, and she giggled. Ugh. She pinched herself. “Flying with you seems so… personal? Is that the right word? You know, like asking you to give me a piggyback ride through the city or something.”

  After a short pause, he barked out a laugh.

  Wist startled awake and glanced around, as if confused as to why he was in the hallway instead of the gardens.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just—I’d never want you to feel like a beast of burden.”

  “I’m… surprised that you would think of me as a… man… even when I’m a dragon.”

  Oh. Well, of course he was a man, no matter what form the curse forced on him.

  “Fly with me, Neylan. Tonight, after the wedding rehearsal. It would be nice to have company for a change. I can show you the city, and the hills and mountains under the stars. That is, if the rain lets up. If not, perhaps we could—”

  “I would love to go flying with you, Keir.”

  His mouth hung open.

  “Where should I meet you?”

  “Uh… the training grounds. The farthest field has a lopsided oak tree in one corner. It will be empty at midnight.” He kissed her on the cheek and then scooped Wist from his shoulder and placed him in her palms. “I’ll see you at the rehearsal.”

  *

  Half an hour before midnight, Neylan strode down the hallway, shoulders back, cloak flapping behind her. She’d tucked her gloves into her belt, and Wist rode in his pouch, tying knots in the strings.

  The door guard bowed as she passed. “You might want your hood underneath the trees, Your Highness,” he said. “They’re still dripping.”

  She thanked him and flicked the hood over her head, glad she’d worn trousers and boots, as well, as she splashed through puddles. Euna was the only one she’d told about her meeting with Keir. She didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. He was taking her flying. It was no different than their stroll during the garden party.

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her tunic. Who was she kidding? It was totally different. People didn’t fly on dragons.

  Except some people had, like Baz, Vanda, Mel, and Orin. But Keir was more than a dragon. She clenched her hands into fists to keep them from trembling and increased her pace. She exited the gardens and struck the path that led around the field where Keir had transformed during the garden party.

  The rehearsal had run late as Mel and Mara argued about what to do with the dragons. Once they’d decided that Neylan would take care of them during the ceremony, things had moved forward with minimal distractions. After supper, Neylan had joined her sisters in Mel’s rooms, enjoying their company but itching to slip away. When the twins were both yawning, she finally took her leave with barely enough time to change before meeting Keir.

  She managed to find the field he’d mentioned, passing a couple of guards and one bleary-eyed page near the stables. No one questioned her presence so late at night. Not out loud, anyway.

  Keir waited under the lopsided oak in his dragon form, lying low in the grass as if to camouflage himself against the tall hedge wall behind him. He raised his head as she drew near.

  She paused. Knowing it was Keir did nothing to diminish the sheer size of him. She’d seen drawings of black dragons in books, even one with a human drawn to scale next to it, but none of them did justice to what she saw before her. Keir’s dragon form was easily a hundred times as big as a wolf-sized razor-tail dragon. His dark eye alone was as big as her head.

  She gulped. Mel had good reason to fear falling from such a beast.

  Except it wasn’t a beast. It was Keir. And he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

  She approached and laid her hand on his shoulder, his scaly hide warm to the touch. “I thought Mara would never let me get away. Did you bring the gear?”

  He tilted his head slightly to draw her attention to a bundle under the tree.

  She examined the rock dragon saddle that had been modified with longer straps. On top lay a pair of goggles to protect her eyes from the wind.

  Wist shivered from the bottom of his pouch. She coaxed him out, but he remained curled in a ball in her palm, peering at the frightful black dragon from underneath a wing.

  “It’s just Keir.” She stood in front of Keir’s nose, holding Wist close to her chest to show him there was no danger. Although normal black dragons could snap up a human in one gulp, they were considered harmless, if pesky, preferring the occasional horse or cow when they ventured from their mountaintops. “Blow a breath over us and let him get your scent better.”

  Keir blinked and then snorted. Not exactly what she had in mind, but it had the same effect. The gust of air smelled of singed leather and sun-warmed grass.

  Wist stopped shaking and snorted back, like an ant confronting a lion. He looked at Neylan.

  “See? Just Keir.”

  Whether he understood or not, he seemed comforted and zipped into the air around Keir’s head, inspecting his flat ear holes and the tiny spiked ridges above each eyebrow.

  She let him get acquainted while she lugged the saddle over to Keir’s back, which was higher than her head, even with his belly pressed to the ground. She looped the goggles around her neck and tucked the ends of the cloak into her belt. “How am I supposed to get this up there? It’s too high, and your wing is in the way.”

  He lowered his shoulder as if offering his leg as a step stool. If she jumped, she could make her way up and then pull the saddle by its straps.

  “Excuse my boots,” she said, scrabbling until she reached the flat spot between his wings. She crouched and looked down.

  She’d left the saddle, and its straps, behind. “Drat.”

  Before she could climb down, Keir shifted, slowly raising up on his elbows. She grabbed his muscular wing shoulder to steady herself as he picked up the saddle and placed it on his own back, just in front of her knees.

  “Oh. Thanks.” She straightened the saddle, untangling the straps and placing one in front of his leg, one behind, and one at the neck, like the breastplate on a horse. With his help, she managed to buckle them tightly without setting her feet on the ground again.

  She wiped sweat from her brow and climbed into the seat. Similar to Euna’s saddles, leg straps had been attached for extra security. She buckled those, pulled the goggles onto her face, and donned her gloves.

  “Wist! Are you coming?”

  He swooped over and landed on the high pommel, facing forward as he’d done hundreds of times on horseback during their journey to Mazereon.

  She held the pouch open. “In you go, unless you want to blow away.”

  He cocked his head.

  Keir made a noise almost too low to hear, but it rumbled along the length of him. A laugh?

  Wist climbed into the pouch.

  She chuckled. After wrapping her cloak tightly around her shoulders, she tucked the ends into her belt. “I think we’re ready.”

  Keir stood to his full height and walked far enough away from the tree that only the tip of his tail touched the lower branches. He turned his face into the wind.

  She gripped the pommel harder.

  In a series of swift movements, he crouched, muscles taut, and then leaped into the air. His wings flapped madly, and they gained height, leaving the palace behind. She leaned forward as far as she could, much as she would have done on a galloping horse, the wind roaring past her ears and tearing at her hair.

  Eventually, Keir’s wings stilled, and they soared.

  Neylan’s heart floated, and she laughed with the unimaginable freedom.

  Darkness surrounded them on all sides, and overhead, misty grey clouds muted the moonlight. The city spread out below, visible only as points of light dotting the ground like sparks from a blacksmith’s forge. />
  Keir banked left, and the city disappeared.

  She watched as midnight hues danced over the landscape, undulating with the rise and fall of the hills. Winter-cold wind stung her cheeks.

  Wist poked his head out of the pouch, glanced around, and with a sneeze, fell back inside.

  After about a quarter of an hour, Keir began to descend. She squinted into the gloom at a vast, flat expanse of inky darkness that suggested a lake, possibly surrounded by large hills. Or a small mountain.

  Frostfish Lake.

  Located near the center of Mazereon, the immense inland sea lay cradled in a mountain range, just as the kingdom itself lay almost completely encircled in the arms of a massive, extinct volcano. Mel had sketched maps on a few of her letters, and Keir had once sent her a scale from one of the black dragons that lived in the caves around the lake. Or perhaps it had been one of his own scales—she’d never had the nerve to ask. Wren, who had a not-so-secret desire to fly on a dragon someday, had asked to see it so many times that Neylan had finally given it to her.

  Keir landed on a flat outcropping of rock near a cave and then tucked his wings.

  Neylan unbuckled the leg straps and slid down his shoulder. She steadied herself against him while she stomped feeling back into her legs. Dragon riding used entirely different muscles than horseback riding.

  “A lantern would have been useful.” She stumbled over the rocks towards the cave while sliding her hand along Keir’s scales, not trusting herself to go near the edge. She wouldn’t be able to see the view, anyway.

  Wist opened the pouch and climbed up Neylan’s tunic until he reached her shoulder, where he crouched with his tail wrapped around his legs and his wings tucked tightly to his sides.

  As soon as she reached the mouth of the cave, she felt her way to the ground and sat with her back to the stone. “Is this your home away from home?”

  Keir grunted and curled up nearby.

  “The view must be breathtaking when the moon is out. Do you sleep here every night?”

  He growled low in answer and shook his head slightly.

  She grinned and slipped the goggles off her face. A grunt for yes. A growl for no. “I don’t know what Mel was complaining about. That was amazing. Do Baz or Vanda ever come flying with you anymore?”