Page 13 of Merry in Moonvale (Moonvale Matches #3)

Ginger’s Pub was cozier than ever.

Needled ever-trees from the mountains were propped in the corners, decorated with trinkets on strings. A fire roared in the hearth, crackling and popping and casting the room in a comfortable, warm glow. Twinkling, enchanted string lights brought a magical glow to the place, warming it even further.

Stacks of presents sat against the far wall, waiting for meals to be finished.

The murmur of voices blended into a soothing symphony, making the place feel lively and joyful.

Merry Day was my favorite day of the entire year.

While many folk chose to celebrate the holiday at home with their loved ones, some of us preferred even more company, so Ginny always welcomed the town into the pub with open arms.

She had prepared a giant vat of stew, chicken and rosemary this time, and the scents of herbs and baked bread mingled happily with the smoke from the fire.

I adjusted my hair, tugging on the bow to make sure it was sitting just right.

We were all wearing our finest outfits. My corset and skirt matched my red shawl perfectly, only accentuated by my red lace-up boots. Fiella’s trousers were clean and pressed, and her blue hair was smoothed into a lovely braid that kept the wild strands out of her face. Redd had trimmed his beard down, and his white tunic was bright and wrinkle free. And Tandor looked impossibly handsome in a red sweater that made his green skin look warm and flushed.

We all cleaned up pretty nice, if I could say so myself.

“Another cider for the table?” Tandor asked, standing up and gathering our goblets.

“Yes, please!” I said.

“Thanks!” Fiella responded.

Redd nodded with a smile.

The cranberry cider Tandor had come up with was incredible. It was one of his best yet. Tart, sweet, with just the right amount of cinnamon bite, it was a masterpiece.

It didn’t beat the pumpkin, but it was a close second.

“I’ll get them!” Ginger called from behind the bar. “Don’t worry about it, Tandor!”

Tandor ignored her, bringing the goblets with him. “You’ve been working all morning, Ginny. Sit. Take a break. I’ve got this one.”

“Oh no, I don’t mind,” the faun protested, but Tandor would not be deterred. He simply flicked his head in the direction of our table, where an empty chair was waiting for her.

“Sit,” he ordered.

This time, she listened. “Fine. But only for a minute.” She scurried over the table, goblet and bowl in hand. She sat down heavily, allowing her weight to drop into the chair without her usual grace.

I leaned over, patting her on the shoulder. “You work too hard.”

She smiled around a mouthful of stew. She swallowed, before she said, “Says you.”

I sat back in my chair, glancing around the room. We weren’t the only patrons in the pub. Velline and Old Man Wilbur were at a table in the corner with a few other folk. A family of shifters occupied another table. Linc sat at the bar with Lunette, who was listening to his animated story with an amused smile on her face. The pub was bustling. “I don’t work on holidays,” I argued. “I’m too lazy for that.”

She grinned, shrugging. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of people.”

“Fire!” someone shouted from the other side of the room. “It’s the dragon!’

My eyes darted in that direction, but a tiny voice near my ear said, “I’m on it, Godsblood.”

It was Dropp, the water sprite. The sprites had taken to following me around town, becoming more familiar with Moonvale. It seemed that they were no longer confined to my shop, if they ever were in the first place. They spent most of their time in my apothecary, but they were beginning to wander.

I was so proud of them. My little menaces.

“Thanks, you’re the best!” I called out.

Ember had caught a napkin on fire, and Dropp easily extinguished the flame with a small stream of water.

If only Raine would do that. The two dragons could keep each other in check if they chose to, but instead, they seemed to compound on each other’s shenanigans.

“That is so convenient,” Fiella muttered.

“Sure is,” Tandor agreed as he returned to the table, goblets in hand. He passed the drinks around the table before returning to his seat between me and Ginger. The chair groaned when his weight settled onto it.

“Godsblood? Why did she call you that?” Ginger asked, confused.

I flapped my hand dismissively. “I’m not sure, but they won’t stop.”

“It’s because she’s the Godsblood, of course,” another sprite chimed in. Scarlett. She was sitting on the table, staring longingly at the rest of the stew in my bowl. I nudged it toward her.

I shrugged. “Whatever that means.”

Ginger stared at me for a moment before she simply nodded, returning her attention to her own bowl of stew. “It’s a cool name.”

“It’s a ridiculous name,” I argued.

“I think it’s kind of funny,” Fiella chimed in from across the table.

“Nobody asked you,” I grumbled, but it had no bite to it.

She snorted a laugh in response. “Grumpy. Will some gifts break you out of your bad attitude?”

I straightened. “Maybe.”

Anticipation fluttered in my chest. I was nervous to give my gifts to the others. I had spent a lot of time on them, and I was pretty sure they would be appreciated, but I was feeling wobbly, nonetheless.

Ginger scarfed down the rest of her stew before rising, her hoofed feet clacking against the stone floor. “Let me clear these bowls away first.”

Tandor beat her to it, snatching the bowls with impressive speed. “Sit, boss.”

With a roll of her eyes, she sat. she leaned back and crossed her ankles, her cheek twitching but not quite forming a smile.

As Tandor cleared the dishes away from the table, leaving us with just our goblets, Redd brought the gift boxes to us.

Mayor Tommins stood to leave from where he sat in the back of the room, brushing his hands off on his trousers and drifting toward the door.

“Going somewhere?” Fiella asked.

“I think I’ll head to bed,” he said, voice tight. “I’m tired.”

I shook my head. “Stay, Tommins. It’s Merry Day.” I kicked at the chair to my right that was unoccupied. “At least have a cider. This cranberry flavor is incredible.”

He hesitated, his jaw working. He seemed conflicted.

“Stay,” Redd urged. “Just for a bit. It’s too early to go to sleep, even for you.”

Slowly, the gryphon nodded. “I suppose one drink wouldn’t kill me.”

He settled into the chair next to me, his back ramrod straight and his hands folded on the table in front of him. Tandor set a goblet down, and he grasped it quickly, seemingly grateful to have something to hold onto.

I smiled. He was nervous. It was kind of sweet.

“So, Tommins. Any big plans for Moonvale in the coming months?” I asked to try to ease his tension.

It worked. He relaxed slightly as he took a sip of cider. “If those monsters don’t destroy it first, you mean?” he asked, gesturing to the dragons who were now curled up in front of the fireplace.

“Precisely,” I said sarcastically.

He considered this. “With magic returning, I don’t know what to expect. I’m hoping the next few months are completely uneventful, if I’m being honest.”

“Uneventful is boring!” Fiella griped.

“Boring is safe,” Tommins insisted. “Boring is good.”

Redd tilted his head as he settled back into his chair. “I can’t disagree with you there.”

The table was now full of boxes and bags of varying sizes. Gifts both big and small cluttered the space. I could hardly see Fiella across the table.

Tommins looked for a moment like he would flee, but I patted him on the shoulder, sending a small zap of magic into him. He flinched, and then glared at me.

“You don’t have to leave,” I insisted.

“I don’t want to intrude?—”

I shook my head. “Nobody thinks you’re intruding.”

“But you’re all friends, and I’m…” He trailed off, unsure.

“You’re our friend, too,” Fiella said warmly. “Even if you do threaten to send us to the dungeon a little too often.”

Mayor Tommins’ face flushed, dark and warm. He cleared his throat twice before he spoke again. “Well, someone has to keep you crazy folk in check.”

Fiella raised her goblet, a broad grin baring her fangs. “I’ll cheers to that.”

We all lifted our glasses. Tommins looked bashful, but he raised his glass, too.

“And cheers to Merry Day!” Ginger added before she took a long swallow from her glass. She set it down with a thunk and then leaned back, kicking her hooves up and resting them on the edge of the table. If it were anyone else, we would’ve gotten a thump on the back of the head, but being the pub owner had its perks. “Now, who’s first! Redd!”

Redd startled. “Me? Oh, no. Someone else.”

“Redd! Redd!” Fiella chanted.

The rest of us joined in. “Redd! Redd!”

His cheeks darkened. “Oh fine, fine.” Under his breath, he grumbled, “I’ll get it over with.”

I glanced at Fiella from the corner of my eye to find her absolutely beaming. Lovesick fool. I suppressed my own grin.

Redd had three packages in front of him. He opened them with a brisk efficiency.

The first package, from Fiella, contained two items. The first was a knitted hat, striped with varying lines of brown and green. It was actually pretty nice. The second item was harder to work out.

He held the bundle up questioningly. “I love it,” he said warmly. Then he cleared his throat. “But… what is it?”

Fiella snorted. “It’s a strap for your tools! You can wrap it around your waist, and it’ll carry your hammers and mallets, so you don’t have to bend all the way to the ground to retrieve them from your toolbox.”

Redd stared at her with soft eyes, his jaw working. “It’s perfect,” he said. His voice was husky.

Fiella was absolutely radiant. “You like it?”

“I love it.”

“Save the lovey dovey stuff for your cottage!” I complained. “Open mine next!”

Redd cleared his throat, glancing around the room as though remembering he had an audience. “Right. Of course.”

He pulled the top off of the box, and then smiled. “Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s enchanted sandpaper that can smooth even the toughest of wood in mere seconds, then you’d be correct!” I declared.

He nodded in my direction. “This is amazing. I didn’t even know enchantments like that were possible. Thank you.”

I brushed it off. “It’s easy, now that the magic is back, and all that. No big deal.” But secretly, I was pleased.

His next gift was a collection of tiny knives from Tandor that would be perfect for carving critters out of wood, just like his Pa. Redd had actually been speechless at that gift. Tandor had thumped him on the back, insisting that Redd had to make him a dragon sculpture first.

And then it was my turn to open gifts.

Fiella had knitted me a giant blanket that was unbelievably plush, and by far the softest thing I had ever touched. My awe was impossible to contain. “You made this?” I gasped, stroking my fingers over the even loops and swirls.

She nodded smugly. “I sure did. It’ll keep you warm while you’re reading those raunchy?—”

I interrupted her before she could embarrass me in front of Mayor Tommins. “I love it! I didn’t realize you were a knitting expert.”

She laughed it off, but I could tell she was happy about the praise. Fiella loved a compliment more than anyone.

Tandor’s gift wasn’t something he could hand over, but it was something even better.

He had worked with the witches and the farmers and figured out how to grow pumpkins in Moonvale, right on the edge where the Barren Lands met the Greenwood Forest. He promised to make me pumpkin ciders year-round.

I had actually teared up at that one. I threw myself at him, wrapping him in the biggest hug I could muster.

And Redd and Ginger had worked together to make me a plant stand that would elevate the pots, allowing me to cram even more of them in front of my shop windows. It was perfect.

And then it was Tandor’s turn.

He received a sweater that had “I love critters!” stitched onto the front, along with a giant barrel, larger than any of the others in the pub, for brewing his ciders. Ginger had to teach us how to make the barrel acceptable for brewing, fixing it up and adding the necessary attachments. He was ecstatic. The orc had gone around the room, pulling everyone into a bear hug. Even Mayor Tommins, who accepted the hug with a bewildered look on his face.

And then it was time for Fiella to open her gifts. The boxes on the table began to dwindle.

The first was from me. She opened it, and then smiled. “A goblet! Wow, it’s gorgeous. Is that my name engraved on the front?”

“It’s enchanted. So your drinks will never get cold.”

Her jaw dropped. “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way!”

She had squealed with excitement, immediately transferring the remnants of her cider into the new goblet to test it out.

Tandor and Redd rose, slipping to the back room. They returned, each lugging a huge gift in front of them.

Fiella cried out, slapping her hands over her mouth. “Is that what I think it is?”

Redd smiled, glancing at Tandor, who was also grinning. “Your own barrel of lavender blueberry cider. It’ll stay here, of course, but it’ll always be filled,” Tandor said.

Redd tore the paper from his own gift. Gasps echoed around the room. It was a mailbox, similar to the ones in town, but made of wood instead of stone. On the front was her shop name, Fiella’s Finds. He had made Fiella her own mailbox.

We were all familiar with how they liked to correspond by letter, even now.

It was way better than my gift, damn it. I could admit when I had been defeated.

Fiella had promptly burst into tears, of course. She sobbed, blubbering out unintelligible thanks to the men.

As the chattering died down, Mayor Tommins cleared his throat. “I have a gift for you folk,” he said quietly, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out three bells. One red, one blue, one green. He set them on the table in front of him. “They are dragon bells. Kizziah, you might have to lay an enchantment over them, but they should be able to summon your dragon, no matter how far they wander.”

Again, I was fighting tears. Tommins, who was so resistant to the dragons at first, had now found a way to ensure that we would never lose the dragons again.

I couldn’t wait until Tommins could see his own gift, which was a massive wooden sign that read, “Welcome to Moonvale, The Heart of Magic.” Redd had already told him that he would have to wait until morning to see it, under the light of the two suns.

I caught Fiella’s eye and nodded, signaling that it was time.

Time for the final gift.

I bent, retrieving the last box from beneath the table. I set it down carefully, sliding it to Ginger. She sat up straight, looking flustered. “Oh, you didn’t have to?—”

“Just open it, Ginny,” Fiella interrupted. She was actually vibrating with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet. A glance around the room told me that Redd and Tandor were just as excited.

She looked at us suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Open it!” I ordered.

With a heavy sigh, she pulled the lid off the box.

And then she promptly shut it again, shoving it in my direction. “No.”

“Yes!” I insisted.

“No way. I’m not worthy.”

“Yes, you are, Ginny,” Fiella said. “You deserve it more than any of us.”

I lifted the lid to peer inside, and nearly jumped out of my skin.

In the box, nestled into a small blanket and sleeping peacefully, was a tiny green dragon, surrounded by the fragments of his broken shell. He had hatched sometime during the festivities and was apparently content to nap until he was disturbed. He peeked an eye open, glanced around, and then shut it again before resuming a sleepy breathing rhythm.

Tears ran down Ginger’s freckled cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“What’s his name, Ginny?” I asked to prove a point.

She sniffled. “Brambleby. His name is Brambleby, or Bramble, for short. He doesn’t mind Bram, either. Why do I know that?”

“Because he’s yours, girl!” I shouted. “I told you!”

She stood, gathering me into a tight hug that squeezed the air of my chest. “Thank you,” she whispered into my ear. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I patted her back. “I might have some idea.” I pulled back and wiped the tear tracks from her face. “Now, let that baby sleep, because he’ll be a handful when he wakes up!”

After many tearful hugs and heartfelt thanks around the room, my heart was fuller than ever before. It felt near to bursting.

Even Hex and the cats had snuck in while we were exchanging gifts, curling up in front of the fireplace with the sprites and the dragons.

My makeshift zoo, growing day by day.

As the day transformed into dusk, and then to night, folk trickled out, donning their cloaks and saying their joyful farewells as they went.

But our group remained, drinking and laughing and simply enjoying the company.

It was the perfect evening.

Until a knock sounded at the door. Which was weird, considering it wasn’t locked.

“Come in!” Tandor called, his deep voice booming in the large room.

Nothing happened.

“It’s open!” he yelled again, louder this time.

Still, nobody entered.

With a groan, Ginger rose. She clomped to the door with exaggerated slowness.

Ginger pulled the door open, planting her hands on her hips. Cold air rushed in around her, but her body blocked the guest from view. “Can I help you?” she asked.

For a while, there was no response. Ginger tapped her hoof against the floor impatiently. “Well?” She asked.

A voice, strong and deep, slipped around Ginger and filled the room. The sound was an echo that rattled the walls and made the hairs on my arms stand on end. The words the stranger spoke made no sense.

Ginger gasped in outrage, stepping back and stammering, “Excuse me? No, you’re thinking of someone else. Sorry.”

She tried to slam the door shut, but the stranger stuck a hand out, blocking it.

What did he say? His words had been wondrous, spoken with awe and delivered with a power that was undeniable. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stifle the gasp that tried to rip free.

The words had been an enigma.

“ My mate .”

Ginger sure was having an eventful day.