by Lea Doué
Another growl.
“That’s too bad.” They were both quite busy, though. “Mel said you were able to communicate with them in this form when the curse was in full force. Mind-talking, she called it. Do you miss that?”
He made a coughing noise.
“Yes and no?”
He nodded.
How lonely to have no one to speak to in the dark. She’d only recently experienced such solitude herself. Having shared a room with her sisters all her life, her bedroom at the garden manor seemed to echo with emptiness. It would be even more lonely after the wedding, when Mel and Mara left, although she would have enough to keep her busy that she shouldn’t miss her sisters too often.
Except at night.
Moonlight snaked out from behind the clouds and illuminated their hideaway for a moment, making Keir’s scales glint like obsidian. A shadowy form sped by in the distance, its silhouette outlined for a moment in front of the moon, and then disappeared.
Keir’s head snapped up.
“Did you see that?” It had to be another dragon, something bold enough to venture into the territory of black dragons, but far smaller.
She scrabbled to her feet, pulling on the goggles. “I suppose we shouldn’t stay out too late. We’ll need our wits about us to keep Mel and Orin organized tomorrow… er, today.”
Wist crawled back into the pouch, and Neylan climbed into the saddle. Keir’s muscles were tense, his gaze trained on the sky. After gaining soaring height, Keir circled the lake once and then flew towards the city. As they approached the palace, Neylan held her breath, the speed of their descent more apparent with points of light to focus on.
They landed next to the lopsided oak. Before sliding to the ground, she unbuckled the saddle, and Keir plucked it off his back and placed it under the tree.
She stared into one giant eye and placed a hand on his jaw. “Thank you. I’ll never forget this night.”
His eyes closed and he leaned his head ever so slightly into her touch.
Back in her rooms, she fell into bed fully clothed and dreamed of flying under a sky full of stars that slowly turned into winking mirrors on a strawberry red gown.
*
“Hunter, get down from there!” Neylan snapped her fingers and Orin’s dragon dove off the curtains in the hallway of the garden manor. He squawked and landed on her outstretched arm.
Neylan walked beside Keir late the next morning, trying to wrangle two over-excited messenger dragons and one tiny aconite dragon that was zipping around their heads. She’d managed some semblance of calm while in her rooms, but as soon as Keir had arrived, they’d become frisky, seeming to know that the event their people were anticipating was near.
Thankfully, Vanda had decided to keep Fleet with her.
Hunter balanced on one of her forearms that Euna had wrapped in peach-colored linen to safeguard from accidental scratches. Jade, meanwhile, had climbed halfway onto her opposite shoulder. Thankfully, she was taking care not to tangle her toes in the pearl sleeves of the stunning blue chiffon dress Zared had made for the occasion.
Keir looked at her with a sideways glance. “Most ladies adorn themselves with flowers for a wedding.”
She rolled her eyes. “Flowers are so last season.”
“It suits you.” Keir caught Wist with cupped hands as he flitted in front of his face. “I’ll keep this one with me, if you don’t mind.”
“He’s all yours.”
Wist poked his head out from between Keir’s fingers and chirped.
“Don’t let him sweet talk you,” she said. “Tell him to stay put, and he’ll listen.” Hopefully. He’d never been so hyper, but he’d never been around so many messenger dragons before, either.
Keir placed Wist on his shoulder and spoke to him as if he were a disobedient hound. “Sit. Stay.” He stroked his back. “And hold on.”
Wist studied Neylan and her armful of dragons. Then he sat as Keir had ordered, his long tail trailing down his back.
As they exited the manor, a humid breeze tickled the pink dogwoods and wispy clouds garlanded the sky. Mel needn’t have fretted the night before about rain ruining her day.
“Do you think your arms will hold up for the whole ceremony?” Keir asked.
“Messengers might be as big as cats, but they’re not as heavy. I’ll be fine.” She spoke with more confidence than she felt. Even now, Hunter was poised to take flight again at any moment, and her arms were already sore from her night of flying, when she’d gripped the saddle so tightly.
As they approached the cobblestone clearing that had served as the center for the garden party, a quad of dragon soldiers bowed and ushered them inside. A few dozen guests sat on chairs in front of the gazebo, which had been draped in white flowers—lilies, roses, hydrangeas, orchids. Keir took his place inside next to one of Orin’s friends from the palace, snatching a rose petal and handing it to Wist on his way. Neylan stood across from them beside Mara, who wore a pale pink gown, her reddish-brown hair pinned up in loose curls.
“You look amazing,” Neylan said. And nervous, but she didn’t say that out loud. “How is Mel?”
Mara gave her a tight smile and eyed the dragons. “Raring to go.”
Baz joined them in the gazebo and stood in the middle to officiate. His eyes went straight to Vanda, situated among the guests in the first row with Fleet on her shoulder.
A violinist hidden somewhere among the greenery struck up the Groom’s Entrance, and everyone stood.
Orin strode into view and bounded down the short aisle, grinning left and right, his golden hair shining in the sunlight, his black trousers and long tunic—pristine for the moment—thickly embroidered with sky blue threads, the royal color of Gritton and fitting for its youngest prince. When he reached the gazebo, he jumped up the two steps, bowed to Baz, winked at Neylan and Mara, and chucked Hunter under the chin. Then he turned and stared down the aisle, waiting for his bride to appear. His heels never touched the ground.
The tune changed to the Bride’s Entrance. Jade craned her neck and fluttered her wings, obviously recognizing the cue for her person to arrive.
When Mel did appear, Orin’s eyes welled over, and he blinked rapidly, not bothering to dry his face.
Mel kept her pace slow, as she’d practiced over and over the night before, but she looked like a racehorse ready to bolt. With no hope of romantic curls like Mara’s, her copper hair had been left loose and hung to her waist, adorned with a simple wreath of baby’s breath and pearls. Her white silk gown shone like the moon on a clear night.
The dragons might as well have been left behind, because Mel’s gaze stayed locked on Orin’s. As she stepped into the gazebo, Jade chirruped a greeting, which drew a smile but not a glance.
Neylan had attended countless weddings, so she let Baz’s familiar words wash over her as she concentrated on steadying her arms under the weight of the squirming dragons. She glanced at her flower cuff, wishing all her sisters could be standing beside her.
Wist had eaten his rose petal and sat at attention, his focus on the other dragons mere steps away. The tip of his tail twitched with excitement.
Keir caught Neylan’s eye numerous times, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Finally, Mel and Orin joined hands. Baz wrapped a white ribbon loosely around them and said his final words.
It was Hunter’s turn to recognize cues now, and before the newlywed couple had a chance to face their guests, he flapped over to Orin’s shoulder and settled in his customary place with a smug look at the crowd. Jade trembled, but she remained with Neylan until Mel gave her the signal.
Neylan rolled her shoulders a couple of times to ease the tired muscles.
Mel and Orin exited the gazebo first and led the way to the palace, where even more guests waited to celebrate with them at a proper ball.
Mara stepped out with Orin’s friend, and then Keir offered his arm to Neylan.
“Two sisters married,” he said. “I wonde
r which one will be next.”
“Lily and Eben,” she said without missing a beat. Unless Hazel and Holic surprised them. They had yet to announce their engagement, but when they did, Neylan felt sure their wedding would follow quickly. Once Hazel made up her mind, she wouldn’t want to wait.
“Would you like to bet on that?” His eyes twinkled.
She grinned but refused to take the bait. “It’s a sure thing. The date has been set for late summer.”
He said something in reply, but she didn’t catch his words.
Gram was standing near the exit leading to the manor, flanked by guards, who appeared ready to whisk her away at any moment.
Neylan squeezed Keir’s arm. Now might be their chance to finally speak with Gram.
Chapter Six
Neylan tugged Keir out of the small wedding procession, letting the guests fill in the space behind Mara and her escort.
“What is it?” Keir asked.
“It’s Gram. We should speak with her now before she leaves.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Could you introduce me?”
“Of course. But people will be expecting us at the reception.”
“It won’t take long.”
Wist hopped onto her shoulder and clung to the tiny pearls with his back feet while his front ones gripped her ear. He spread his wings for balance as she sped up.
Gram’s keen blue eyes studied them as they approached. She looked just as Mel had described her, dressed simply in dark forest green, her white hair bound in a fuzzy bun on top of her head. Her face, nearly as pale as her hair, was lined with age, but there had been laughter in her life, judging by the crinkles near her eyes. The sorcerer’s tattoo stood out on her cheek, an old rune meaning “truth,” an identifier every apprentice took at the start of their studies.
Neylan swallowed hard. Despite Gram having given up sorcery almost as soon as she began learning, she wasn’t a woman to be trifled with.
Only after Keir had finished his introductions did she realize he’d been speaking. Impulsively, Neylan reached out and hugged the woman. “Thank you for helping to save my sister.”
Wist climbed onto Gram’s head during the exchange. She patted Neylan’s cheek and then plucked him off her bun and studied him as he preened in her hands. “He’s a healthy one. Smaller than my Jak. Shinier, too.”
Neylan had almost forgotten about Jak, Gram’s small weaver dragon. His unexpected presence when Idris had laid the curse on Vanda and the others had been the cause of Keir’s complicated transformation, but even Gram couldn’t explain why or how it had happened.
“We don’t want to take up too much of your time. Do you think we could get together and talk soon?” Keir’s curse came first, but she also wanted to discuss sorcery itself and how to keep her sisters safe. Anything Gram could share with her would be knowledge she could use.
Gram handed Wist to her, but she didn’t answer right away. She looked at Keir for a long while, and then back to Neylan. “I know why you want to speak with me, but I’m afraid you won’t like what I have to say. I don’t know what’s holding him any more than you do. If your feelings are true, then mind the words. You’ll find the way out in time.”
With that, she curtsied and walked away with her guards trailing behind.
Neylan stared after her. “That’s it?” No words of wisdom, no insight about why finding Keir’s red dragon girl—which she’s asserted would break the curse—hadn’t worked?
“She’s always been a woman of few words.” Keir’s voice held a note of admiration rather than frustration.
Instead of joining the throng heading to the palace, he took Neylan’s hand and led her on a winding detour through the gardens. He seemed reluctant to join up with everyone.
When they finally reached the ballroom, sunlight poured in through a wall of windows identical to those in the dining hall. White flowers filled the tables, spilled from tall vases in the corners, and draped along the musician’s gallery. Dancers wove their way around the floor, including Mel and Orin—minus Hunter and Jade, who had been returned to their quarters. Dragons outside were one thing. Even Mel had agreed that they weren’t yet ready for a ball.
Wist, on the other hand, snuggled into Neylan’s curls at the back of her head and settled in for a nap after the excitement of the morning. No one would notice him.
A lady with orange rouge approached and curtsied. She opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes widened as she focused on a spot near Neylan’s ear. She snapped her lips closed, curtsied again, and hurried off.
Well, most people wouldn’t notice him.
Keir chuckled and folded Wist’s wing, tucking the end into her hair so it wouldn’t flop down again. He held out his hand. “You promised me the first dance. Do you intend to keep your word?”
“I do.”
He led her onto the floor, and Zared’s gown flowed around her like waves. Keir danced better than Zared.
“Do you think Gram would see me if I tried to visit her again?” she asked.
“You really think she has answers she hasn’t shared with anyone else?”
“She must. You just have to ask the right questions. Besides, it can’t hurt. I’m used to getting things out of former sorcerers.”
“You mean your sister’s bodyguard? From what I hear, he’s not exactly forthcoming.”
“You learn to read between the lines when Yarrow avoids answering.” She sighed. Some people refused to believe that sorcerers could have anything useful to contribute. “We need to pursue every possible route to break this curse.”
A thoughtful look entered his eyes, but he didn’t respond.
When the song ended, he escorted her over to Baz and immediately asked a young lady with tightly cropped hair and twinkling eyes to dance. Neylan accepted another partner, and she and Keir passed each other on the floor for the next a few hours as he made an effort to honor his friends’ efforts to help him. When he finally asked her for a second dance, Wist woke and moved to her shoulder.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He twirled her past the windows, and the late afternoon sun caught the seawater sparkles on her gown and glittered his face and hands. “About needing to pursue every possible route.”
Was he going to help her get an audience with Gram?
“Do you remember what I wrote in one of my letters about Mazereon’s former king and his interest in spelled objects?”
“Yes.” Baz’s father had hated sorcerers with a passion, to the point of nearly killing Gram, yet he hadn’t felt the same about spelled items when they suited his needs.
“I never mentioned that he kept a collection of ancient writings and artifacts at the black tower. Gram may not have any answers for you, but those old scrolls might contain something.”
Her heart skipped a beat. In all her years of searching, she’d never discovered anything useful about sorcery in books. Nothing. And now he was telling her there might be lost information in the tower where Gram had been imprisoned by Baz’s father.
“I want you to visit the tower with me.” He spoke quickly, as if trying to convince someone who was determined to say no. “We can go through the king’s collection together, see what we can find. I know the caretakers, a married couple, both retired dragon soldiers. They would love the company. If we fly, we could be there in a few hours. Tomorrow, if you—”
“Yes!”
A nearby couple startled and looked in their direction.
She lowered her voice. “Yes, of course. We can leave tomorrow night.” Baz and Vanda would understand. Mel and the others would be leaving the day after, anyway. “Mel said the tower is all stairs, so Euna had better stay here. She can practice with Majesty while we’re gone.”
He squeezed her hand and nodded.
“We have to be back in time for the first ball.”
He didn’t respond.
“Keir. We have to return in time, or I’m not going.”
Anoth
er nod.
“You look worried.”
The song ended, and he escorted her off the floor. “I don’t want you to be disappointed. I haven’t found anything so far.”
“My disappointment is the least of my concerns.”
*
After explaining her plans to Mel the next morning, and receiving her enthusiastic support, Neylan navigated the city streets to Master Jiri’s shop with Euna. The first “dragon girl” ball was less than a week away, slated as a belated celebration of King Sebastian’s hasty coronation the previous summer. She needed to get the dress fitting out of the way before leaving for the black tower.
“Do you think it’s too much?” Neylan asked as she studied her reflection in the fitting room. Wist stared at her from the edge of the mirror.
“It’s beautiful,” Euna said as she finished tying the laces. “Like fire.”
Fire described it well. Below a black bodice with sheer lace sleeves, layers of silk skirts cascaded from hips to floor in warm orange-red, like spiced cranberry cider, with undertones of golden yellow and deep violet.
She took a step and heard the snap and crackle of flames. Odd. She twirled and listened carefully.
Euna spluttered and batted the dress from her face.
“Sorry.” Neylan fluffed the skirts. “Do you hear that?”
“The static? I imagine they keep it dry in here for the fabrics.”
Of course. Static. She rolled her eyes at her own silliness and stepped out into the main workroom where Zared waited.
“Another work of art,” she said.
He smiled as he looked her over from head to toe, no doubt taking in the fit of the garment in the blink of an eye. Finally, his gaze rested on her face as he stepped close and put a hand to her waist. “It just needs a small tuck here.”
Heat rolled over her as if the dress had ignited. She cleared her throat. “I’ll be gone for a few days.” She’d already told him that. “I’m going to the black tower to sift through some old documents belonging to the former king.”