Page 24 of Curse of the Midnight Dragon (The Moonlight Dragon #2)

Amaya

The next morning, I rose before anyone in my family and shuffled to the kitchen expecting it to be empty. It was market day. The household cook would be in the village buying supplies for the week. I wanted the alone time so I could sort through my thoughts.

All my life I’d been taught that I was special, a gift to the village. I’d been trained in the most efficient ways to kill. It was my duty to put the village’s welfare before anything else, including my own safety.

Villagers had loved me for the sense of safety I provided. At least I’d believed they’d loved me. They’d allowed me to be the chaos-bringer that was innate in my nature. But now, with the moonlight dragon’s return, the once indulgent villagers wanted me leashed, contained.

Goddess, that stung.

How did I process this without wanting to burn down the manor?

I felt a flash of annoyance when I found the old lady sitting at the scarred wooden kitchen table that was used as both a work surface and an informal dining table.

The old woman had her tatty shawl wrapped around her bony shoulders and was sipping a cup of hot tea. Her tired eyes softened when she saw me.

To be honest, I was glad to see she was still in residence. Like a favorite chair or a cozy knit blanket, I’d grown used to having her around. Her dire predictions gave me an unsettling sense of reassurance. Like I’d been holding my breath my entire life waiting for the bad things to come, and because of her, I’d been finally given permission to exhale since she let me know that the bad things were finally here.

A woven basket perched at the end of the table next to the old woman. I peered inside it. My eyes nearly dropped out of my head at what I saw.

“Are these cloudberries? Where did these come from?”

“Oh. Here and there.” The old woman waved her hand.

“But they don’t grow on the plateau.” The sweet berries only grew on the north side of the cliffs where there were no paths.

“Is that so? Well, I found a small bush during my ramblings yesterday. I decided to pick what berries I could find this morning as a surprise for you. You’ve been such a generous hostess, my dear. Would you enjoy having them in muffins with breakfast?”

I frowned, still staring at the basket filled with the delicate ripe fruit. “Cloudberries don’t produce fruit until the end of summer. And because they grow on the windy side of the plateau, they rarely produce any fruit at all.”

“If you don’t want them in your muffins, I could make—”

“No, no, no, no, no. I would never pass up a chance to enjoy a cloudberry muffin. They’re my favorite.” And incredibly rare. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d eaten them.

“Splendid!” The old woman’s face suddenly looked decades younger as she smiled at me. “Sit, child. Let me work, then. Would you also like eggs? I could poach them.”

“Would you? I love poached eggs. The cook rarely makes them, since everyone else in the family prefers their eggs fried.”

“Glad to do it. Glad to do it.” She moved around the kitchen with her familiar stiff gait. “You provided for me. I’m pleased to return the favor.” She lifted a bowl from a kitchen shelf, set it on the table, and then looked at me. Her brows furrowed, deepening her already impressive wrinkles. “Is something bothering you?”

Where did I start? Did I tell her how I resented Celestina because everyone fawned over her, even Gregory had gushed about how she brought a fresh perspective because she’d been raised by stupid humans? I hated that I resented the moonlight dragon because she seemed so… nice . Did I tell her how I was worried that Trace and the elders might succeed in convincing Celestina to take control of my magic? If I didn’t have my powers, what did I have?

I slid into the chair the woman had left. It was still warm from her body heat. And I blurted out something I hadn’t even realized I’d been obsessing over. “None of the patrols have spotted the vampires or even seen evidence that they have been in the forests surrounding the plateau. I think they left the area.”

“And that’s good?” The old woman didn’t pause in her task of gathering ingredients.

“I suppose it’s good. I know I shouldn’t feel disappointed that Prince Cullen has heeded my advice and has turned back. But I do. And I feel sad that Celestina’s Soren has so easily given her up. Not that it wasn’t the right thing to do. I just…”

“You just what?” the old woman asked.

“I wanted to believe in true love, all right? If not for me, at least for someone in this world.” I banged my forehead against the table. “I know it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” the old woman said. “Love is never stupid.”

“It’s always stupid. And it doesn’t matter, does it? Vampires can’t love dragons. Moonglow’s Soren won over her affections only because he was using her. I heard him say so when I was in Prince Cullen’s mind.”

“Did you ever think you might have misunderstood what he meant?”

“Even if I did, it doesn’t matter. There’s a war coming. The village is expecting Moonglow to bring forth a new age of dragons and to repopulate that world with moonlight dragons. And I suppose I’ll be expected to provide some little midnight dragon warriors for the clan as well.”

“That’s a heavy load for you and for Celestina.” The old woman cracked several eggs into the bowl. “Your family shouldn’t have locked you in your room.”

I made a rude sound.

“Your mother and Anther both fought on your behalf the entire time. Their faith in you never wavered. You’re lucky to have allies like them.” She pushed the bowl in my direction and slapped a wooden spoon into the palm of my hand. “Stir.”

“I-I can’t.” I was more likely to blow up the kitchen than to do anything useful in it.

“Oh, for goddess’s sake.” She roughly grabbed my hand and had me swirl the spoon around the sides of the bowl, mixing the flour and eggs and whatever else she’d put into the mix. “It doesn’t take magic to bake a few muffins. Just your hands.”

She released her hold, and I tentatively started stirring. I held my breath, fully expecting the bowl to go crashing to the floor. She picked up the basket and poured the cloudberries into the bowl.

“Don’t do that!” If I smashed the bowl now, the cloudberries would be lost. “I’m going to mess it up.” I always did. While I was an expert at destroying things, putting anything together never worked out right.

The old woman put her hand on mine, steadying my stirring, which in my panic, had turned erratic. “You have more facets to you than a shimmering diamond. There’s nothing wrong with you. Yes, you’re a powerful dragon. But there’s beauty in that power…and life.”

I pulled the spoon from the bowl before I destroyed a breakfast treat that already had my mouth watering. “That’s the moonlight dragon you’re describing. She’s beauty and life. I’m destruction and death.”

“No, child. The same magic that flows through the moonlight dragon flows through you. And trust me, baking doesn’t involve magic. You’ve been allowed to believe for so long that you are something dark and dangerous, that you’ve forgotten that you’re also a dragon with a heart, a dragon who opened your home to a lost and weary old woman, who rescued your moonlight dragon and took the blame for the destruction she caused in this very manor. Now stop fussing and get mixing.”

The old woman muttered to herself as she moved around the kitchen, checking on the batter, poaching eggs over the wood stove, and directing me to pour the batter into metal tins. By the time she’d finished with the cooking and the baking, the entire kitchen was warm and smelled of sweet spices, fruit, and love.

“The muffins need to cool.” She slapped my hand when I reached for a muffin before waiting for her to remove them from the tins. “Now go fetch a pile of plates while I put the muffins in the basket. Your family will be joining you soon enough.” She drew a long, shuddering breath. “Amaya, I don’t blame them for what they did. So don’t you blame them, either.”

“I don’t,” I answered as I went to the cupboard. I didn’t blame them for locking me away. They’d done what they’d thought necessary to protect the others from my destructive nature.

“And one more thing, child.” She took the plates from me, set them on the table, and cradled both my hands in hers. Her touch felt cool. Her rheumy eyes held steady on mine. “The prophecy and the fates may have set the future into motion, but that doesn’t mean you’re a mindless puppet in this tale. You can decide to take a different path.” Her grip tightened. “The decisions you make—you, specifically, not the moonlight dragon—have the power to rewrite the lines that the fates put down eons ago. You, my beautiful dragon, can save countless lives, but only if you decide to follow that amazing heart of yours.” She dropped my hands and, before I could ask any of the questions that flooded my mind, she put me to work gathering napkins, silverware, and crystal glasses for my family to use. “Hurry. Hurry. You’ll want everything to be ready.”

I obeyed her. I could always ask my questions later.

I had just finished setting the table when my mother came into the kitchen. She’d braided her blonde hair in a spiral on the top of her head and was dressed in a rainbow sweater and long skirt with a rainbow of tiny dragons stitched into the hem. She didn’t get far into the kitchen before she stopped and sniffed deeply. “I thought it was cook’s day to go to the market.” She headed straight for the muffins that were still cooling in the basket.

“It is.”

My mother stumbled to a stop and whirled toward me. “ You made breakfast?”

“No, of course not. The kitchen’s still standing, isn’t it? The old woman made it for us as a thank you.”

“Who?” Mother looked around.

I turned a full circle to discover I was standing alone in the kitchen. “The old human woman. She came to our door seeking shelter when you and Father were gone. She’s not left.”

Mother shook her head. “I haven’t seen an old woman in the house.”

“That’s ridiculous. She’s been sitting in on all our meetings.”

“Who’s been sitting in on our meetings?” Anther asked as he entered the kitchen. His hair was still mussed from sleep. His loose pajama pants hung low on his hips.

I slapped his bare chest. “Can’t you put a shirt on? No one wants to look at all that skin when they’re eating.”

He playfully pushed me out of the way and then took a deep sniff the same way our mother had. “Do I smell cloudberry muffins? I haven’t had cloudberries in years.”

“Amaya says a human came to stay at the manor during a storm,” Mother said as she stepped between Anther and the muffins. “What is she talking about?”

“The old woman?” Anther paled.

“Yes.” I gestured to the muffins in the basket, the poached eggs under the covered platter, and the fresh bread on the cutting board. “She’s the one who cooked breakfast.”

His hand had a tremor as he took a muffin from the basket. He sniffed it. “You think the old human who came to stay with us baked this?”

“I helped her stir the batter,” I sheepishly admitted.

“You—?” My brother grimaced as he bit into the muffin. As he chewed, his look of disgust gradually lifted. “You didn’t bake this. It’s good. Who made it?”

“The old woman.” I couldn’t figure out why this was so difficult for them to understand.

“Amaya,” Anther said and then stuffed the rest of the muffin into his mouth. “That’s impossible. That old stray died the day after you were abducted. Gregory took care of her body since I was busy searching for you. I think he incinerated her and spread the ashes in the flower garden you keep forgetting to tend.” He gestured with his neck toward the side of the manor house where the gardens were kept.

“No. You’re mistaken. She’s been here at the manor. And she baked muffins this morning.”

Mother placed her hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

“She was here. Right there. She picked the cloudberries.”

“Who was?” my father asked as he came in. “Oooo, cloudberry muffins. What a treat! Are the berries even in season?” He grabbed one and carried it over to the kitchen table.

“Amaya is seeing dead people,” Anther teased. “And they’re cooking meals for her.”

Father looked at me as if he were concerned about my mental stability. But I was used to that. He’d looked at me that way ever since I’d returned with Celestina.

“Ha-ha, Anther, I’m not seeing dead people.”

That’s when I noticed that Anther wasn’t smiling. He hadn’t been teasing. His entire body had gone stiff as he stared at the breakfast spread out for them.

“The old woman prepared the meal,” I said with great care. “I don’t know why you are all acting so surprised. She sat in on the family meeting we had shortly after I escaped. She was in the chair by the fireplace. And she’s been around ever since. I’ve spoken to her. Anther, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Amaya.” He dragged his fingers through his already messy hair. “After you were abducted, I killed the old woman.”

“You did what?” I screeched.

“I killed her.” He clearly had no remorse for attacking a defenseless old lady. “Humans took you mere days after you opened our home to her. I had told you to send her away, told you that I didn’t trust her. And I was right. She led the other humans here, didn’t she? She was the reason you were taken. I did what needed to be done.”

“No! That’s not what happened! She didn’t—”

“Doesn’t matter,” my father said. “Humans aren’t trustworthy. You know that, Daughter. Taking you was an act of war against us. Anther did the right thing by executing one of theirs.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

I don’t blame them for what they did , the old woman had told me. I’d misunderstood what she’d meant. But of course, I’d misunderstood. I had no way of knowing that my brother had killed her. I had no way of knowing that she was dead. She’d cracked eggs, measured flour. She’d held my hands.

“She came back from the dead to bake cloudberry muffins for me.” Tears burned like acid in my throat. “I can’t imagine anyone in the village doing that. Not now that you have the moonlight dragon to fawn over.” My magic pressed against my edges, searching for a way to explode out. I snatched the basket of muffins off the table and clutched it to my chest.

With an ear-piercing crack, the large table that had held the basket fractured down the middle. The crystal glasses and plates shattered as the two halves of the heavy wooden table toppled. Perfectly poached eggs slid off the clattering platter and slithered over the stone floor. That, I regretted.

“Amaya!” my father barked. “You have to calm down.”

“No!” Still clutching the basket of precious cloudberry muffins to my chest, I ran from the room, leaving a trail of broken stone floor tiles in my wake.