by Lea Doué
Neylan closed her eyes and breathed slowly, trying to feel the spells Zared had used on the gown. After several quiet moments, she felt nothing, and laughed at herself for being silly.
Zared arrived exactly on time, dressed as if he’d been planning for months to attend the ball. His dark blue tunic, embroidered in silver at the hem and neckline in a curling pattern that resembled waves, complemented her gown perfectly. He stood in front of the door with his fists clenched, chin slightly raised, as if bracing himself against the palace itself.
“Have you ever attended any formal events like this one?” Neylan asked.
“Not as a guest, although I know what’s expected and shouldn’t embarrass you too badly.”
She chuckled. “I’m not worried about that, but I want you to enjoy the evening.”
“I fully plan to.” He hadn’t complimented her when she entered the room, but his eyes spoke his approval.
Her cheeks warmed, and she twisted the cuff around her wrist.
His eyes narrowed as he studied the bracelet. “Do you always wear that?”
“I’ve had it on since leaving home.”
He nodded, an unreadable look on his face.
Once inside the palace, they took their time walking through the halls so Zared could soak up everything. He stopped to admire towering flower arrangements, colorful paintings, elaborate tapestries, and views out of the tall windows—so many things she’d learned to overlook. Master Jiri’s workshop was no hovel, but for someone with Zared’s eye for beauty, it must seem a drab place compared to the luxuries of the palace.
At the last minute, Neylan pointed Zared to the hallway that would take them to the top of the stairs so his first view of the festivities would be from above, the best place to take in all the movement and colors. Once they arrived, his eyes widened at the spectacle.
Heads turned as they made their entrance. It could have been her imagination, but their stares seemed to linger longer than they had on any other night. Perhaps it was the gown. Nevertheless, she would be sure to enter on the ground floor in the future. Zared seemed in no hurry to move as his gaze roamed everywhere, a look of unveiled rapture on his face.
Keir stood in a corner, wearing a dark color and blending in with the curtains. He stared directly at her with a scowl that was clearly visible even from a distance, exuding irritability with that stern expression and folded arms. No one approached him.
She would give him some space for the time being. She introduced Zared to a few people, including Baz and Vanda, explaining that he had been indispensable to Master Jiri since the loss of his wife and son. Zared humbly accepted the praise.
They’d barely made it a quarter of the way around the room when Keir approached with the intensity of a thunderstorm. She nudged Zared to turn around, but it was too late.
Keir bowed, his gaze locked on Zared, dark circles under his eyes visible even on his already-dark skin. Had he gotten any sleep at all?
Wist greeted her enthusiastically, flitting around her head and causing a few people to put more distance between them. Zared flinched in alarm.
Not wanting his special night ruined by worry about his creation being torn by dragon talons, Neylan coaxed Wist onto her hand and then held him out to Keir. “Could you look after him for the night?” She grinned. “His opinion might come in handy.”
Keir took Wist without a word and without a smile.
The orchestra struck up a new song, and Zared asked her to dance.
She accepted gladly, not wanting to endure another moment of Keir’s silent disapproval. She and Zared danced two songs together and then two apart, the appropriate pattern for couples who were not attached, and she tried to keep an eye on Keir without being obvious. He didn’t dance at all, instead lurking by the wall with Wist and openly watching Neylan.
Towards the middle of the evening, Vanda spoke to him, and they appeared to be arguing. After that, he danced with two ladies and then left early, although he didn’t seem to be in distress like he had the night before. He took Wist with him.
Neylan stepped on Zared’s toes four times during the next song. He laughed it off as his inexperience, but it was her own disappointment that weighed her down. Keir hadn’t spoken to her all night… but hadn’t that been what she’d hoped to accomplish? To stop any false rumors before they spread?
At the end of the night, Zared escorted her back to her rooms, dragging his feet and gushing about the beauty of the palace and the stares Neylan had garnered in her waterfall gown.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
He clasped her hands as they stood in front of the door. “I can never thank you enough for this night, Neylan. Please say you’ll come by tomorrow so we can talk.”
A zing of excitement shot up her spine. The books were proving fruitless, and Gram had nothing to offer, so learning what Zared had to teach her might be the only way to help Keir. She nodded and squeezed his hands before bidding him good night.
Euna welcomed her in the sitting room. “Shall I help you off with your gown?”
Neylan paced, too keyed up to think of resting. “I think I’ll go for a walk in the gardens. The rain is holding off, and I heard the musicians playing on the way over.”
She made her way directly to the moonlight garden, passing other night revelers along the way. Baz had stationed extra dragon soldiers at regular intervals around the entire palace grounds in case the razor-tail made an appearance. When she stepped through the archway, a couple walking hand-in-hand near the dragon fountain stopped and the gentleman bowed.
“Oh, I’m sorry to intrude,” she said.
“Not at all, Your Highness. Please enjoy your evening.” He bowed again and led his companion away so Neylan could have her privacy.
She wandered around the empty center flower bed, watching the moonflower slippers peek out from beneath her gown with each step and wishing she could untangle her thoughts as neatly as Gram untangled the threads of the curse.
“I thought I might find you here.” Keir stood under the archway, arms folded.
She stopped near the bench, only a few feet away. He’d followed her.
“You came here last night, too, with him. I saw you as I was leaving.”
He’d been able to see them through the fog? “I didn’t come here with him. He found me.”
He huffed, obviously not believing her.
She didn’t want to argue. “I thought you would have transformed already, since you’d given up on the ball.”
“I wanted to return your dragon first. If you still want him.”
She walked right up to him, put her hands on her hips, and tilted her head up to look into his eyes. “Of course I want him. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Oh, maybe it has something to do with you giving him away earlier. Or maybe that was your companion not wanting his precious gown adorned with a flying lizard? Unless that was your wish, too.”
After what they’d been through the night before, his words hit like a slap in the face.
As she held out her hand for Wist to climb on, her fingers brushed Keir’s arm, which burned like it had before his transformation. Wist hopped onto her wrist, and she transferred him to her shoulder. He found the blue moonflowers and nibbled on them.
“Are you jealous?” she said. “Is that what this is about?”
“What? No, of course I’m not jealous. You can dance with whomever you want, wherever you want, whenever you want.” He gestured to her gown. “You’ve made it loud and clear where you stand.”
Was he upset because she wasn’t wearing red? She hadn’t intended to make a statement with the blue gown. She was still his red dragon girl no matter what color she wore.
Of course, it probably hadn’t helped that she’d left him with Wist for the night. She’d messed up everything trying to show her gratitude to Zared.
“Keir, I’m still trying to help—”
“I have to see Gram.” He turned on his heel
and rushed away.
She ran after him, but stopped when she reached the archway. “Thank you for looking after Wist!”
He disappeared around the hothouse without acknowledging her.
Suddenly exhausted, she left the moonlight garden, promising herself she would have answers for him soon.
Chapter Sixteen
Rain pattered against the windows when Neylan woke, tangled in her sheets. She left Wist sleeping on the pillow and wandered into the sitting room, pushing aside memories of Keir’s harsh words the night before and focusing on her upcoming visit with Zared.
Anticipating her mood, or perhaps observing her turbulent sleep, Euna had ordered breakfast delivered.
Neylan sat at the table and bit off a corner of toast. “Tell me about your riding lessons.” She needed a distraction.
“Maj is nearly ready to take me around the palace and grounds,” Euna said as she poked at the fire. “Teo got permission from the king after assuring him she won’t soil the rugs. He thinks people will adjust quickly to seeing her around the palace, and she’s small enough that she won’t be in the way.”
“I’m glad to see you’re making new friends.”
“You seem to have made a new friend, too.”
“I guess I have.” Although Keir wasn’t too happy about it. She swallowed the last of her tea. “I’m visiting Zared now, so you’ll want to grab a cloak.” She donned her own spell-free clothes from home—green trousers and a matching tunic with embroidered pine needles along the hem. She was tired of dressing like a pawn. She was who she was.
Euna handed Neylan her cloak, and they set off, trailed by one of Baz’s dragon soldiers.
The matronly woman in Master Jiri’s shop was flipping through a design book with a customer when they arrived. She waved Neylan into the workshop as if expecting her. The customer curtsied, a look of recognition in her eyes.
Neylan nodded to them both and scurried to the back, hoping the woman wasn’t the gossiping type. Not that there was anything to gossip about.
Euna followed and situated herself as before near the doorway within view of both the main room and the side rooms within the workshop. She pulled out a small book from her belt pouch and began to read.
“Zared?” Neylan called.
He peeked out from behind the nearest curtain and grinned. “I wasn’t sure if you would come.”
She shrugged and wrung her hands. “You’re my best hope now of finding a way to help my… .” She trailed off before mentioning her sisters.
He gave her a keen look and pushed open the curtain. “It’s all right. I won’t tell anyone.” He glanced at Euna and lowered his voice. “I know you would do anything for your family, and I’ve heard the stories of what you’ve all been through. I would do the same in your situation, I think.”
She breathed deeply, dropping her hands to her sides, and joined him in his smaller workroom. She’d made the right decision to visit him.
The space appeared the same, but with different fabrics scattered around and new sketches lying on the desk. The dress forms had been moved. It didn’t look like a place where sorcery or spells were done.
He busied himself at a small stove in the corner and then returned and set two cups of tea on the table, pushing aside some fabric and a basket of black feathers. They sat on chairs at the corners as before.
“So, where do we begin?” she asked.
“Well… .” Zared set down his cup before taking a drink. “I suppose I can tell you what I’ve been doing. Perhaps that will give you some idea if I know anything that might be useful to you.”
She nodded, encouraging him to continue. She would take whatever information she could get.
He swirled the tea in his cup. “One of the things I use spells for is to blend fabrics with other materials and substances to get something completely new, like with your blue gown last night.”
That sounded innocent enough.
“I can also, for lack of a better word, ‘convince’ clothing to fit the body of the wearer when they put it on, if it’s already close in size to begin with.” His eyes lit up as he spoke. “I can finish designs in a quarter of the time it would take a whole team of seamstresses. The only thing stopping me from creating whatever I want now is my imagination—and of course, funds to secure the raw materials.”
Having sisters who loved to paint and create, she understood his excitement at having his medium open up to him in a way he never expected.
“You’ve made some beautiful things.”
He beamed “It’s the first time I’ve ever been able to create without limits and produce work I’m truly proud of.”
She clasped her hands around the teacup, letting its warmth seep into her cold fingers. “One thing I don’t understand is where you learned your new skills.”
Yarrow had always told her that sorcerers would teach only their apprentices and that sorcery was never written down. Ever.
But Yarrow didn’t know everything, or else he would have known about unraveling threads.
Zared tapped his cup. “Do you remember the princess I made the wedding gown for?”
She nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. Sissi.
“She had very definite ideas about what her wardrobe should look like, but she couldn’t find anyone with the skills to do things her way, or the desire to learn. And she didn’t have time to do it herself, with her new responsibilities. When she found out I was willing to make gowns for her, she showed me what I needed to know. Just enough.”
Neylan gulped her tea, but it felt like it might come back up. Zared didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.
“I wasn’t out to learn sorcery. I simply wanted to advance my craft, hopefully become a true master someday.”
There was no harm in that.
“When she introduced me to my master, things changed.”
“Your master… the collector?” He’d never actually given her a name for the man.
He grinned and touched the pendant around his neck. “With his expertise and my new skills, I was able to create things fit for a true princess.”
Did his master know about the… skills… Sissi had taught him?
“How do you know you can trust that what this princess taught you is safe?” Sissi herself wasn’t a sorceress—unless Gwen had been mistaken—and she was unstable, to put it mildly. It was a wonder Zared could learn anything useful from her.
“She can be moody, and I’ve no idea how she herself ever used her knowledge, but what she taught me is good. It’s the wielders, the users, who corrupt it.”
Neylan struggled to put aside her distrust of Sissi. Zared’s knowledge had come from her, and there was nothing Neylan could do about it. If Sissi had learned anything at all, though, it had come from Idris himself, who had raised her. The man who had created the undergarden and trapped Tharius his whole life, the man who had put up the invisible barrier around Mazereon and whose curse still had a hold on Keir. If anyone knew anything about sorcery, it was him… and Neylan wanted to learn in order to ensure none of her sisters would ever have to deal with the likes of him again.
Like Father said, You should understand your enemies as well as you understand your friends.
She downed the last drop of tea.
Zared refilled her cup, seeming content to let her think in silence.
After scalding her tongue again, she asked, “What do you know about threads and unraveling? Can you teach me how to see them?” Perhaps if she learned enough and practiced, she would be able to unravel Keir’s whole curse herself without bothering Gram again.
Zared frowned and shook his head.
She pursed her lips. He clearly didn’t know anything about them, but that was all right. Anyone who could learn to weave the threads of sorcery could learn to unravel them, if they knew it could be done. Right? She tapped her foot on the floor. There was so much she didn’t know. Everything, really. But she was so close to getting what she’d wanted for so long.
She sipped her tea, letting Zared collect his thoughts this time. It couldn’t be an easy thing to explain, or even talk about, especially when most people were very hush-hush when sorcery was brought up.
He leaned forward. “I can show you so much, Neylan, but only if it’s what you really and truly want.”
If? She’d traveled all the way from Ituria with the hope of learning from Gram, who’d proved to be as tight-lipped as Yarrow. “Of course it’s what I want! Zared, I know what we’re doing, what we’re discussing, is all but forbidden. I’m risking the disapproval of my entire family.”
“You love your family very much. I imagine this is difficult for you.”
She studied his expression. Sadness clouded his excitement. He had no family to speak of. It must have been lonely for him, trying to gain attention but having no acknowledgment of his talent.
“I’m doing this for them,” she said.
He sighed. “I don’t even know if what I can show you will be of any use.”
“Anything is better than nothing. I can’t keep letting the people I care about get hurt. I have to be able to do something.”
He pushed aside both their cups and grasped her hands. “If you truly want to learn, you have to do as I did. It barely hurts, and you won’t even notice it once it’s there.”
“What do you mean?”
He spoke softly, as if to a horse that might bolt. “You have to take the tattoo.”
Chapter Seventeen
Neylan leaned back in alarm. Was Zared serious? He wanted her to take the sorcerer’s tattoo? She tried to pull her hands away from his, but he kept such a firm hold, she had to tug them free.
“Neylan,” Zared said, “I can’t actually teach you anything unless you have the tattoo as well.”