Page 2 of Merry in Moonvale (Moonvale Matches #3)

CHAPTER 2

Fiella

M y fingers ached with an unfamiliar throb as they struggled to find a firm grasp on the bundle of yarn I was holding. The strands were impossibly slippery.

Merry Day was great, sure, but the gift part was absolutely kicking my ass.

Embarrassingly, I was trying to learn how to knit. It was not going well.

The instructional book was not helpful enough, making the steps seem easy and fluid. Knitting was the opposite of easy. My fingers refused to cooperate, and the knitting needles weren’t doing their job, either.

I grumbled under my breath as I untied yet another knot. “Fucking fates. How do folk do this? Why can’t I just buy scarves and sweaters—why do I need to make them?”

A deep laugh rumbled out of Redd’s chest. He sat in a stuffed chair in the corner of my trinket shop with a book propped on his lap. “Nobody’s stopping you from buying the sweaters, love. You’re the one who decided you were going to make them. Just because Kizzi and Tandor are making gifts this year doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Shut up. You’re supposed to be on my side,” I grumbled. My fingers snagged in the yarn. Again.

He was right, though. As he usually was. I knew I could find something in my trinket shop for all of my friends and family. I could give some beautifully woven baskets to Kizzi, some rare oak wood relics to Redd, and some flower vases to Lunette, and so on. And I probably would, if I couldn’t get this damned yarn to cooperate.

Kizzi and Tandor were making gifts because they had blown through all of their silvers on a journey across the realm, when they purchased the dragon eggs.

But something about a handmade gift felt more full of love. More special.

And I had set my mind on knitting my gifts—a choice I was now regretting.

“You can do this, Fiella. Just be patient. You’ll get the hang of it.” Redd closed his book with a gentle thud and set it on the table in front of him, slowly rising to his feet. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye.

He never failed to take my breath away. His easy, lethal grace. The way his muscles perfectly hugged his bones, granting him both power and stealth. The way his dark brown hair was always a bit tousled, even when he tried to tame it.

And the way his fangs peeked out between his beautiful lips when he smiled at me, as he was doing now when he caught me peeking at him.

He drifted behind me where I was perched on my stool, stroking his hands over my shoulders and down my arms, stopping before he met my hands or interrupted my handiwork. He knew better.

He rested his chin on my shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. I softened in his embrace, some of my stress melting away.

His voice was molten, so close to my ear. “Need my help?”

I sighed and fought the shiver that worked down my spine and the way his proximity heated my blood. “You want to help me knit?”

He shook his head, and his short beard snagged on a few strands of my hair, disturbing it where it laid over my shoulder in blue rivulets. “No. I’d be no help with that. I can help you with other things, though.”

This piqued my curiosity. “Oh?”

Warm hands traced up my arms again, over my shoulders, slipping down to slide around my waist. “I can take your mind off of it, for a moment.”

Arousal pooled in my stomach and I leaned into his touch, but I kept my hold on the yarn, determined not to lose my place. I groaned in dismay. “Not now. Can’t. I’ll never finish this in time. Merry Day is only a week away.”

Redd tilted his head, pressing a soft kiss where my ear met my neck, a place he knew was one of my weaknesses. I sighed dreamily. “Later, then,” he said softly.

I nodded. “Later. Definitely later—” I caught a sound from outside, one that straightened my spine and tightened my muscles. “Did you hear that?”

Redd, too, had heard the chilling sound—probably before I did. We were both vampires, but he had more vampire blood than I did, which strengthened his senses.

I tentatively stood from my stool. Redd drifted toward the front door of Fiella’s Finds, quick and silent on his feet.

The sound repeated. Clearer, this time. It was… screaming.

Kizzi screaming.

Immediately, I tossed the wad of yarn and knitting needles aside and rushed to the door, the sound of my best friend’s screams immediately flushing my veins with panic.

Redd yanked the door open and stepped aside to let me out first, and then he followed immediately after. The door slammed shut behind him.

“Kiz!” I shouted. “Kizzi!”

The green haired witch was sprinting down the street, huffing and puffing, holding her skirts scrunched up in both fists. She didn’t even have a cloak over her tunic. Her skin was flushed and her expression was stretched tight. “Fiella!” she screamed. “It’s happening!”

I met her halfway, grasping her shoulders and scanning her quickly, checking for injuries. I glanced behind her to check for a disaster or a pursuer. Everything looked normal. “What happened?”

“It’s happening. It’s happening!” She reached out with trembling hands and grasped my face, squeezing my cheeks before grabbing my hand and tugging.

“What? What’s happening?”

Redd drifted up beside me and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is everything alright?”

“Guys! Listen to me!” Kizzi whipped her head around, frantically scanning the area for other passersby. Nobody was close enough to overhear. “It’s the eggs.”

My eyes snapped to her face and widened. “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way!” She tugged on my hand harder. “Let’s go!”

I glanced at Redd to find his expression had slackened. He shrugged. “You heard the witch. Sounds important. Let’s go.”

“Okay. Going. Yes.” I finally allowed Kizzi to drag me toward her apothecary. My short friend wasn’t very strong, but she was determined.

The chill finally permeated my panic and I longed for my cloak. I shivered and tucked my free arm around myself, sidling up closer to Kizzi.

Dragon eggs topped cloaks. Obviously. But it was still fucking cold .

Redd scurried behind us. “Should I grab Tandor?” he asked hesitantly.

“Tandor! Tandor. Yes. He should see this too. But keep it quiet.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “I know how this has to go.” He turned toward Ginger’s Pub to retrieve Tandor, where he would be serving ales at this time of day.

We shoved through the door of Kizzi’s apothecary.

The sprites were a flurry of movement. It was a shock every time I entered the shop—I didn’t know how Kizzi tolerated it. The sprites were overwhelming. There were tens of them. Maybe hundreds. All flying, chattering, scurrying, making a symphony of noises.

It was miraculous, how different they were now that magic had returned. Before, they were simply wisps. Barely there. Hardly noticeable. Now, they were a force to be reckoned with. A sensory overload.

The shop was thrumming with magic. Different from the way the rest of the realm was reinvigorated. I could feel it with every frantic pump of my heart, every sharp inhale of my breath. It was electric.

It was also a little terrifying.

Kizzi tugged me to the cauldron in the corner, the one her dreadful familiar had destroyed when it came to life. I braced myself to see it.

The slimy thing, Hex, freaked me out. It was fucking weird. Even if it was bound to Kizzi’s soul like the witches said it was… it certainly could have been cuter.

Hex was spread around the bottom of the cauldron, surrounding the three perfect, beautiful, gorgeous dragon eggs. I had the urge to snatch the eggs away, to protect them from Hex’s sliminess, but I knew Hex had grown attached to them. Like a mother hen.

It would have been endearing, if it wasn’t so squirm-inducing.

“What am I looking at here?” I asked, trying to keep my distance from the slime.

“ Look!” Kizzi insisted, shoving me closer.

I sighed. I couldn’t avoid the slime forever, it seemed. I leaned in.

The first thing I noticed was how gorgeous the eggs were, as per usual. They were scaled and richly colored. Perfect and beautiful. And so, so powerful. I resisted the urge to gnash my fangs. My protective instincts were in overdrive.

The second thing I noticed was the crack.

I screamed, and the sound startled a few sprites off of their perches. Even Hex flinched reflexively. “No way! No way, no way, no way!”

“I told you! It’s happening! The eggs are finally hatching!”

“What do we do?” I asked, only slightly panicking. We had been trying to hatch the eggs for weeks, but part of me thought it would never actually happen. I acted like I expected them to open, of course, but deep down, I never really allowed myself to hope.

And now, it was actually fucking happening. And I had no idea what to do with myself.

“I don’t know!” Kizzi shouted, clearly as bewildered as I was.

“You’re the Hand of the Dragons, isn’t this your entire job?” I asked.

“That’s a phony title and you know it!”

“It was given to you by the witch dragon egg saleswoman. It had to mean something.”

“Hex won’t let me pick it up!”

I huffed. “Hex is your gods damned familiar. Make them.”

She glanced at me nervously. “Okay. I’ll try. But let it be known that I warned you.”

Before she could sink her fingers into Hex’s surface, the door flew open. In charged a vampire, an orc, and a faun. Redd had returned, and he brought Tandor and Ginger with him.

Kizzi straightened. “Redd! We told you to grab Tandor!” She glanced at the faun woman. “No offense, Ginny. You know we love you.”

Ginger leaned casually against a table, crossing her hoofed feet at the ankle. “No offense taken. But I overheard, and there was no way in Hell’s Realm I was going to miss this. I can keep a secret.”

Kizzi shrugged. “Fair enough. But brace yourself, it might not be pretty.”

Ginger smiled warmly. “Consider me braced. Just let me know if you need another set of hands.”

Kizzi reluctantly turned back to the cauldron and started muttering under her breath. “Okay, Hex. I mean it this time. Let me take the egg, or I’ll smear you along the cobblestones outside and leave you there to freeze.”

A tiny gasp echoed from somewhere overhead. I smothered a laugh.

Tandor and Redd lingered with Ginger a few paces away from the cauldron. Smart folk. They were staying out of the splash zone.

I patted Kizzi’s shoulder reassuringly, relieved that the witch was here to spare me from touching Hex myself.

She sunk her hand in. She flinched when her fingers made contact, and then shook her arm as though relieving an ache. I could smell magic drifting off of her in gentle waves. It battled with the charged ice and cinnamon scent of the shop.

She went in again, this time gritting her teeth and pulling her eyebrows down into an impressive glare. If she had fangs, she surely would have been snarling with them. “I. Mean. It. Get. Off .”

Hex tightened again, nearly obscuring the eggs from view. A swell of panic squeezed my chest.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Kizzi gritted out, before using her other hand to send a small bolt of magic into the slime. Immediately, Hex relented, shrinking in on themself and retreating to the corner of the cauldron where they hissed and spat tiny chunks of slime into Kizzi’s face. If she noticed, she didn’t react—she was too focused on carefully grabbing the red egg and pulling it into her arms.

I let out a strained breath, nearly deflating with the weight of it. I leaned over to drag my fingers over the egg’s rippled surface. It sure was a crack. And it wasn’t a tiny one, either, barely perceptible like the lines I had previously noticed on the eggs. These were real cracks.

Ginger held her breath where she stood, and Tandor nervously shifted his weight. Redd merely observed, calm and stoic.

Kizzi passed the egg to me. It settled in my arms like it belonged there, warm and heavy and almost buzzing with energy. My veins flooded with a feeling somewhere between love and awe, a sensation that I was beginning to associate as uniquely from the eggs. It was innate, like I couldn’t help but respect the small dragons. I instinctively knew the critters were more powerful than I could ever dream of being.

It was mind boggling. Not even hatched yet, and the critter already had me wrapped around its little claws.

I tucked the egg more securely into the crook of my elbow.

Quietly, Kizzi murmured soothingly to Hex, trying to seek forgiveness from her familiar. It didn’t sound like it was going well.

Tandor drifted over to me, leaning in to get a good look at the egg. “Wow. It really is cracked, huh. That’s unbelievable.”

“I bet it was my saw that did it,” Redd stated from where he stood.

“Sure, my love. I bet it did.” But I knew it was more likely Kizzi’s doing, or something related to the magic returning to the realm. Or one of the cats, who we had caught clawing at the eggs more than once.

I still could hardly believe it. That magic was back. It didn’t feel real.

“What do we do?” I asked nobody in particular.

“Should we pry it open?” Tandor asked. Overhead, I heard a chorus of horrified gasps. The sprites clearly didn’t think that was a good idea.

“Maybe you should try a potion, now that it can seep inside,” Ginger suggested helpfully. She didn’t seem shocked by the situation whatsoever—she had simply hopped on board.

But that idea didn’t feel quite right, either. The potions were abrasive and aggressive, and I didn’t like the thought of them harming the fragile little dragon inside. We didn’t even know if a dragon would be inside the egg, and if so, if they were still alive . It seemed impossible, to be trapped for countless years and remain with the land of the living. For all we knew, there could be a tiny sad corpse inside.

But I didn’t think so. Somehow, miraculously, I thought magic had found a way to protect the creatures, even during the years when there were only crumbs of residual magic left in the realm. It found a way to cocoon them. To keep them safe.

I didn’t want to test that theory too rigorously, though.

“Maybe we should just wait,” I said, bouncing the egg gently in my arm as though I were rocking a baby.

“We’re running out of time,” Kizzi gritted out tightly. “Merry Day is only a week away, and we told the witch at Rockward that we would return the eggs if they didn’t hatch by then.”

I considered this. “There’s still time. We don’t have to panic yet. Clearly, something is happening. Let’s give it a day or two before we take any drastic actions.”

And as I said the words, the egg in my arms seemed to tense, to vibrate.

Crrrrack.

Slowly, another tiny fissure opened up on the egg’s surface.

I couldn’t help myself—I screamed.