The Moonflower Dance

by Lea Doué

  After a stern glance at Neylan, the maid strode out of the room.

  Gram’s blue eyes opened, and she motioned to the chair opposite her.

  Neylan nodded in greeting, but at the sound of a hiss, she stopped short of the chair. A grey weaver dragon, the size of a large tabby cat, curled up in the seat. She’d forgotten about Jak in her eagerness to see Gram herself.

  She waved him down. “Shoo, lovely. I need to borrow your chair.”

  He stared at her through half-opened eyes, stretched slowly, and then dropped onto the floor. He slunk over to the fire and curled up on the rug.

  She sat and arranged her fiery skirts over the arms of the chair. From what Mel had told her, Gram didn’t care for formalities, so she skipped the small talk. “I was able to get Keir out of the palace before he changed.” For a second, she squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of his glowing skin. “Are you all right? Can you tell me what happened?”

  Gram gazed into the fire, hands clenched in her lap. “I lost the threads. Tonight they felt… slippery. They don’t like being tampered with, and I’m not the young girl I once was.”

  Threads? Tharius had once mentioned something about threads to Mel.

  Gram sighed. “And then I knocked the teapot onto the floor and fell out of the chair trying to catch it before it broke.”

  “But you’re all right?”

  She looked at her. “Aye, girl. I’m all right.”

  Neylan relaxed.

  “And now you want to ask how I’m doing it, don’t you?”

  Her eyes widened, and she waited, but Gram said no more. “I, well…” Even with Gram, she was hesitant to admit how keenly interested she was in learning more about sorcery. She glanced at Jak. “I don’t understand how you can keep Keir in his human form through sorcery, yet it doesn’t bother your dragon.”

  The maid interrupted with tea. Neylan tapped her foot while the girl poured and then left again.

  Gram sipped her tea. “I understand your thinking, but I’m not using sorcery.”

  Neylan lowered her teacup before it touched her lips.

  “Your sister told you I created a hole in the barrier Idris put around this kingdom?”

  She nodded. “Mel said you must be powerful to do that, especially since you were in the black tower at the time, where doing sorcery should be impossible.”

  Gram scoffed. “I wasn’t using it there any more than I am now.” She sipped her tea again.

  Neylan fiddled with her cup.

  “Your sister had no interest in knowing how I do things. Most people don’t. Most people avoid me as much as they can.”

  “I suppose I’m not like most people.”

  “Mmm. The dragon girl.”

  She bristled. “Will you tell me how you did it?”

  “Yes and no.” Gram set down her cup and clasped her hands in her lap again. “I’m sure you’ve been told that my mother was a sorceress. Most don’t keep their children, if they have them at all. Too much of a distraction, but she had a soft spot for me. I watched her over the years. Learned to see the threads she wove, even if I couldn’t figure out how to use them. And I learned that what can be woven can be unraveled.”

  She paused as if to let that sink in.

  Neylan felt as if ice water had been poured over her head and trickled down her spine. “You’re saying curses can be unwoven? They can be undone without jumping through the hoops set by the sorcerer who cast them?” That was exactly the kind of information she was looking for, but why would Gram keep it to herself?

  Gram shook her head with a sad grin. “The unraveling doesn’t last. Imagine a child picking at a giant tapestry being woven constantly by a roomful of weavers. The threads repair almost as fast as I can undo them. It was enough to let your friends escape the barrier, and it’s enough to let Keir remain human for a few hours each night.”

  Yarrow had never told her anything about threads or unraveling. “Do all sorcerers know this is possible?”

  Gram shook her head. “My own mother never figured it out. Why would she be interested in destroying things she’d spent decades of her life learning to create? Especially when undoing just one element of a curse takes such a great deal of energy and weakens a sorcerer’s abilities forever.”

  No sorcerer would do that. They wouldn’t even think to learn such a thing. “But you don’t care about weakening your abilities, do you?”

  Gram shrugged. “I gave it up a few weeks in, when my master died suddenly. I never had much ability to start with.”

  “You never thought to apprentice to a new master?”

  A haunted look entered Gram’s eyes. “Not after what I learned in that short time. It was more than I learned my whole life watching my mother.”

  Neylan hesitated to ask more. She poured Gram another cup of tea and watched Jak snooze. She’d never seen a weaver so close. They weren’t typical garden dragons, although they did seem to like the Weaver’s Maze back home at the palace, judging by the number of webs that littered the firethorn hedges. She and her sisters had found the entrance to Tharius’s undergarden in the maze. She ran her hand over the flower cuff, and her fingers stopped at Ivy’s moonflower.

  She took a deep breath, not wanting to distress Gram but determined to ask questions while she had a chance. “One of my sisters has a bodyguard who’s also a former sorcerer, although he practiced much longer than you did before walking away. I’ve always wondered… .” She stopped, trying to figure out how to word her question in order to have the best chance of getting a useful answer. “I’ve always wondered why my parents never assigned any of the rest of us personal bodyguards. I’ve asked them, but their answers are evasive, as are Yarrow’s. Ivy lost her twin brother at birth, but that’s in the past. Things like that happen, and it’s been so long.”

  Firelight reflected in Gram’s eyes. “You think there’s more to it than what they’re telling you.”

  “I know there is. I’m sure of it, and I want to know what’s going on with her. I want to help. Can you show me how to see these threads you talk about? How to unravel them?”

  Gram closed her eyes. Neylan tried to wait patiently for her response, until her tea became cold and she assumed the woman had fallen asleep. She set down her cup with a sigh, ready to leave.

  Finally, Gram spoke, her weary voice scarcely above a whisper. “Perhaps there is more to your sister’s story. Perhaps not. But I can’t show you how to see and unravel the threads involved in curses and spells. And I wouldn’t, even if I could. You need to stay well away from sorcery of any kind. No more questions. It will only lead to frustration or worse.”

  Neylan felt as if a boulder had been laid on her chest.

  Gram had essentially told her no, there’s nothing you can do. Yarrow had never been so blunt with her, always giving her non-answers or redirecting her question to something he would answer.

  “What about my sister?” All of her sisters.

  “You may never know the truth. There may be nothing to know, but if there is, it sounds like she has a capable guardian. Trust her to ask for help if she needs it, and be there for her in every other way you can.”

  A frustrated tear leaked out of Neylan’s eye, and she fiercely wiped it away. No help for Ivy, no help for Keir, no promise of safety for any of them.

  No. She wouldn’t accept that there was no help for any of them. “Please tell me what I can do to help Keir, then.”

  Gram smiled. “You already know as much as I do where that’s concerned. Just give me peace and quiet so I can do my part.” She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and patted her knee. Jak jumped from the rug and onto her lap, turned in a circle, and curled up with his head under a wing.

  “Thank you for your time.”

  “Tell that granddaughter of mine to come visit soon. Always so busy, she is.” With that, her head slumped to the side as she dozed off.

  Neylan returned to her rooms and penned a short note for a page to deliver to
Vanda, letting her know both Gram and Keir were all right. She managed to change out of the ballgown on her own and into a pair of black dragon-wing leggings and matching tunic. She threw a cloak around her shoulders for good measure.

  Fog blanketed the gardens—a clean fog, unlike the smoky one that had surrounded Keir earlier. Disoriented, she made a few wrong turns before she found the moonlight garden, intending to wipe off Keir’s letters before someone discovered them.

  Thin moonlight struggled through the grey air, but the moonflowers still showed white against the damp darkness of the stone wall. The small rectangle of night phlox was completely gone, the plot bare as if ready for planting. Smart move on Keir’s part, although she was unsure how he’d managed it. He’d also cleared off the letters. Looking around, she saw no sign that would give away the fact that something unusual had happened there.

  Boots scuffed across the stones near the archway, a gardener or a guard, probably. She frowned at being interrupted and waited to see if they would pass.

  Instead, Zared appeared out of the gloom and stopped a few feet away.

  Her heart pounded, and she reminded herself that he had no way of knowing what had happened to Keir earlier. Although he knew about the curse, he didn’t need to know everything that went on, especially since she hadn’t told anyone that she’d confided in him.

  “This must be a favorite spot of yours,” she said.

  “I’m working on a design. I thought it might be empty tonight for a change.”

  “Oh, you’re working. I’ll leave—”

  “No! Don’t go.” He stepped closer. “Please. I’m just surprised to see you here instead of at the ball. No one got to see how beautiful you look in the gown.”

  “Oh, they saw it, but I needed to leave early.” She didn’t explain more, eager to find Keir but reluctant to do anything to make Zared suspicious.

  “At least you were able to enjoy a little of the evening.”

  Her mind still full of Gram’s words, she nodded, struggling to make small talk.

  He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “You look sad. Or tired. Was it the gown? Did I make it too heavy?”

  She schooled her lips into a smile. “No, it was perfect. It’s just… I’ve had a long week and I received some disappointing news recently.”

  He held out his hand. “Dance with me, and tell me about it.”

  “But there’s no music.”

  “I hear music whenever you’re near, Neylan. Follow my lead, and perhaps you’ll hear it, too.”

  She took his hand almost without thinking about it. At that moment, she wanted above all else someone to talk to about her disappointment. He pulled her close and led her around the garden, moving as he’d done when the violin music had filled the air at the garden party.

  After they waltzed past the fountain twice, she finally spoke. “What do you do when you’re in a position where you want something so badly, but you’re told it can never happen?”

  His grip on her hand tightened. “You never give up hope. There’s always a way to accomplish what you want. Look at me. Son of a pauper, hired off as a servant in a wealthy dressmaker’s shop at a young age. I cleaned and ran errands while I observed everything and sketched in the dark.” His voice gained strength. “After a few years, the dressmaker’s son found my designs and passed them off as his own. My hands were tied. If I spoke against him, I could have been thrown out, forced to scratch my way up again from the bottom. I’d worked too hard to risk that. I waited and hoped the truth would come out eventually.” The tempo of his steps had increased as he spoke, and he took a moment to breathe and slow down.

  “Was that your former master’s son?”

  “No. That dressmaker was never my master. My master came along later and found out the truth through Sissi. He recognized my talent and took me under his wing. My waiting had finally paid off.”

  “I’m glad it worked out for you.”

  “It’s only a matter of time before I can rejoin him.” They passed the dragon fountain again. “You just need to wait and hold on a little longer, Neylan—I’m sure things will turn out well for you in the end.”

  Her feet missed the next step, but Zared steadied her.

  Perhaps their situations weren’t so similar—Gram wasn’t likely to change her mind, no matter how long she waited.

  He frowned. “You really think your situation is hopeless, don’t you?”

  She looked into his wide eyes, recalling how he’d found her on the road from the black tower, how he’d cared for her. “I want to help someone out of a bad situation—or what I think might be a bad situation—but it requires that I know more about sorcery than is allowed, apparently.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She hadn’t meant for so much resentment to color her words.

  If only Gram would teach her the unraveling, then Neylan could tell Yarrow. Surely he didn’t know, or he would have said something. He’d studied far longer than Gram and would be able to do more than she’d been able to, if only he knew how.

  Zared remained silent for a long while. Had she shocked him with another mention of her interest in sorcery?

  She slowed and then stepped away. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

  He clung to her hand for a moment longer and looked at her intently. “Don’t give up hope just yet, dearest.” He bowed. “It’s been a pleasure, as always.”

  She hadn’t shocked him.

  He disappeared into the fog but his words lingered. Don’t give up hope.

  What did he mean?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Neylan sat on the edge of the dragon fountain in the moonlight garden, waiting until she was sure Zared was long gone so he wouldn’t question why she didn’t return to the manor in the middle of the night.

  Don’t give up hope, he’d said, but what hope did she have if Gram wouldn’t help her?

  With a sigh, she pulled her cloak tightly around her and navigated through the fog to the rock dragon training grounds in search of Keir, skirting around the back to avoid being seen. She had no explanation handy if anyone saw her, not that a princess owed anyone an explanation, but they would gossip. Thankfully, the fog followed her, so her greatest risk became getting lost.

  Keeping her gaze on the path, she finally passed the stable complex and made her way to the lopsided oak. Wist found her first and landed on her shoulder.

  She stroked his back, and he nuzzled her jaw. “Can you find Keir through all this?”

  He flew off to her left, disappearing for a moment, but he soon returned and led the way, keeping a few feet ahead of her. Finally, a black form appeared, like a small mountain in the gloom. Keir lay curled up in the grass with his head resting near his elbow. He watched her, but otherwise made no move.

  Wist landed on Keir’s nose, looking as small as an ant on a human, but he seemed totally unconcerned with the size difference or the fact that a black dragon could squash an aconite in a heartbeat. Keir was Keir to him now, no matter what form.

  She shivered. “Gram is well.”

  Keir took a deep breath and exhaled, his body relaxing into the ground. She closed her eyes against his warm breath, and when she opened them, he still watched her. She didn’t mention her encounter with Zared or her conversation with Gram.

  “I guess I’ll make myself comfortable, shall I? I intend to keep you company for a while.” Still shaken by his transformation, she didn’t want him to be alone outside in the night. He wasn’t truly a black dragon, after all.

  Abruptly, he stood, reached behind the tree, and brought out the saddle and goggles.

  He still wanted to go flying? “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

  He nodded and placed the saddle on his back.

  After witnessing what he’d just been through, she couldn’t refuse. If he wanted to fly, they would fly.

  Once in the sky, the fog became an undulating silver-grey sea below them. The lights of the city disappeared and only
the horizon and stars remained.

  Keir flew in the direction of Frostfish Lake as he’d done the first time. She focused on the crisp, cold air, the roaring of the wind, and the play of shadows and light on the misty landscape and let her mind rest as she enjoyed the flight. She might never get another chance to experience it.

  As they neared the lake, the wind took on a different note, the roaring increasing in her left ear in bursts, as if a storm approached.

  Wist scrabbled deeper into her cloak.

  Keir glanced over his shoulder. He stopped soaring and surged forward in a burst of speed that whipped her head back.

  She’d thought rock dragons were fast.

  Gasping, she leaned forward o keep the wind from tearing her free, while off to their left, a small black shape rushed straight at them.

  Keir veered to the right, and her fingernails dug into the saddle.

  What in all the world would chase a full-grown black dragon?

  Only one answer made sense. Razor-tails.

  She searched the sky for the rest of the pack, but saw only the one, and she had a sinking feeling it was the same one that had treed her near the tower. But surely even juveniles weren’t so stupid.

  Alarmingly, the razor-tail gained on them.

  Keir banked to the right and dove.

  Neylan screamed and then clamped her mouth shut. She shouldn’t cause any distractions.

  And then she realized that her very presence was a distraction. Keir was altering his flight pattern because of her, slowing down. He must have been able to feel the saddle shifting just as she felt it sliding around underneath her. It hadn’t been built to withstand such forces.

  The razor-tail reached Keir’s tail and grabbed on with all four feet, flapping wildly as if it could pull him to a stop.

  Keir growled and flung the dragon into the darkness with a single flick, but it unbalanced him and sent them plummeting lower.

  One of the leg straps snapped, and Neylan screamed again.

  Ignoring the screeching of the razor-tail, Keir sped forward. They were flying mere yards above the treetops when the lake appeared, with its caves full of black dragons. He roared a deafening summons, and moments later, half a dozen dragons took to the air.