Page 6 of Merry in Moonvale (Moonvale Matches #3)

CHAPTER 6

Fiella

“ D o you think she’s dead?” I asked Redd, pounding my fist into the front door of Kizzi’s apothecary shop for what felt like the thousandth time.

“She’s not dead,” he murmured. “Probably still sleeping. Or out searching early.”

“Kizzi doesn’t wake up early,” I grumbled. She barely woke up earlier than I did, and that wasn’t saying much. I pounded on the door harder. “Kizziah Cedarton!”

“Don’t you have a key?” Redd asked calmly, oblivious to the seed of panic that was blooming in the pit of my stomach.

“Not anymore.”

“You lost it?”

I glanced at him sidelong. “Maybe.”

He exhaled through his nose. “She’s somewhere.”

“Very helpful,” I snapped. “Thanks.”

He lifted his brows at me, turning to examine the door. He peered at the wood, fresh and bright, repaired only weeks ago by himself. He ran his fingers over the hinges, squinting in concentration. “Should I get my tools and take the door off?”

Finally, a helpful idea. “Yes! Yes. Let’s do that. I’ll wait here in case she shows up.”

Redd planted a quick, firm kiss on my forehead before he hurried in the direction of his new woodworking shop, his strides long and fast.

I kept knocking. And shouting. If I wasn’t careful, I’d start to draw a crowd.

I didn’t care.

“Kizzi!” I shouted again, dragging her name out like I was belting a song. “Open up or my mate will take the door down!”

Still nothing.

I kept knocking.

I had already tried the windows, shoving my fingers in the crevices in an attempt to force my way through, but they were as solid as steel. I doubted even throwing a boulder at the glass would make a scratch.

The tender skin on the side of my hand bloomed into shades of red and brown, swelling angrily.

Eventually, Redd returned, tools in hand and determination clenching the muscles of his jaw.

He got to work.

He hammered, sawed, even pried with a crowbar.

It made no difference. His forehead gleamed with sweat from the effort, and the door did not budge.

Tears threatened to squeeze my throat and prick the backs of my eyes.

“Kizzi, this isn’t funny! Open up!”

Miraculously, as I was manhandling the doorknob in another attempt to break it, the knob turned.

The door swung open.

Kizzi stood there, scrubbing a fist over tired eyes, her hair a wild mass of green tangles and a cloak hastily tugged around her shoulders. “Gods!” she groaned. “Why do you look like that? Who died?”

I shoved my way inside. “You did! We’ve been knocking for hours!”

Redd followed behind me, pulling the door shut with a loud click that raised the hairs on my arms. A slimy sensation slithered over my skin. I shivered. Magic .

“You knocked? I didn’t hear a thing. Did you at least bring tea?”

My jaw dropped open in outrage. “Did I bring tea? I was trying to rescue you from death’s door!”

“I just woke up a minute ago. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Did you miss the part I mentioned about the knocking? For hours?”

Redd interrupted me. “A few minutes, really.”

I glared at him. “Ages.”

Kizzi shrugged. “I must’ve been in a deep sleep. Oh, I increased the protection enchantments on the door and windows, too. That could’ve done it.”

I fought off a surge of annoyance. “You think?”

A sound from Kizzi’s back bedroom snagged my attention. It was somewhere between a trill and a growl—like the purr of a cat. A large, scary cat. Sookie, my own cat baby, had sweet precious purrs. This one was… more.

Kizzi snapped into movement, suddenly looking much more awake. “Oh!”

“What’s that? Hex eating rocks again?” I asked.

“Hex doesn’t eat rocks,” the witch said distractedly as she grabbed a cloth from a basket and headed back into her room. “They just wanted to try it that one time.”

I snorted. “Sure. Whatever you say. Weirdos.”

A strange smell caught my attention then. Something like ozone and fire, different from the usual magic and cinnamon scent of Kizzi’s apothecary. Something wild. I tilted my head, glancing at Redd to see if he noticed it too. He was too busy tracking a sprite with his eyes, watching him attempt to flip through the pages of a book that was much bigger than he was.

Kizzi fumbled noisily with something in her room, huffing with effort. Grumbled curses mixed with the sound of rustling fabric.

“Kiz?” I asked. “What’s going on in there? Is Tandor here?” I shivered with that thought, imagining the horror of interrupting my best friend and her man doing something unsavory. “You have guests over!”

“Oof,” she huffed. “One second! You’re going to love this.”

“Am I?” I braced myself for something horrifying. Like garlic. Or disgusting. Like bugs. Or somewhere in between. There were countless unpleasant possibilities.

“I would’ve shown you earlier, but… I’ve been a little busy fortifying the place.”

“Okay. Now I'm nervous.”

She cursed again. Smoke met my nostrils. Had she blown out a candle? “Almost. Ready. Hang on.”

I crossed my arms, leaning my hip against a shelf. I couldn’t see much through the doorway to Kizzi’s back bedroom, as she had kicked it most of the way shut.

My stomach snarled, echoed by a slight twinge in my throat. I needed a pastry as soon as possible or I would surely perish.

My thirst for blood had been almost entirely quenched as of late, thanks to my wonderful mate and his eager willingness to share the blood pumping through his veins. My cheeks warmed at the thought of his fangs in my flesh, and mine in his. The euphoria that accompanied. I glanced in his direction to meet his gaze, and he lifted a brow at my expression.

We were interrupted by Kizzi kicking the door to her bedroom open wide. It met the far wall with a smack that rattled glass bottles on shelves.

My jaw hit the floor. Redd inhaled sharply.

There, curled in Kizzi’s arms, wrangled into a chaotic bundle of cloth, was the little dragon, looking drowsy and furious. Fire sparked in its eyes.

“Surprise!” Kizzi said quietly. Her expression was tense, her cheeks flushed, and her jaw clenched tight. A strand of her green hair hanging by her ear was charred and curled in on itself. Burned.

I couldn’t tell if she was happy or scared. Or both.

“You found him.”

“I did. Well, technically, Hex did. I gave him a sleeping potion, but I think it’s wearing off. Wait, how do you know it’s a boy?”

I shrugged. I couldn’t put a finger on it, really. I just knew. Something about the way the scales flared over the creature’s forehead. “I think his name is Ember.”

“You think?”

I shrugged again, feeling confused and helpless. “I think. You’re the one with the magic. You tell me.”

Kizzi stepped closer, holding the wriggling mass in her arms as tightly as she could. “I’ve been trying to figure out the name, but nothing came to me. The fates must’ve wanted you to know.”

That sentiment warmed my stomach. I felt special. Chosen. Sure, Kizzi was the Hand of the Dragons or whatever, but I wasn’t useless.

I peered at the creature, meeting his burning gaze. He didn’t look evil, he looked more nervous than anything. I would be, too, if I was a baby thrust into a scary, new world after living in a cozy eggshell for hundreds of years.

“Hi, Ember,” I said to the dragon, feeling only a little stupid. There was no way the creature would understand me, but I didn’t know how else to forge a connection.

The dragon huffed, letting out a small wisp of steam between sharp teeth. They looked even sharper than my own fangs. Impressive. I was a little jealous.

Kizzi shifted onto her heels. “What do we do with him?”

I considered this. “Well, we definitely don’t want him to run away again.”

“Naturally.”

“But it feels mean to keep him cooped up, too.”

She sighed. “I thought the same thing. I can let him roam the shop, but that's not much.”

“Do you think we can… train him?”

She examined the dragon, adjusting her grip to get a better look. “That’s actually not a bad idea. It wouldn’t hurt to try.” The dragon exhaled again, this time letting the steaming air drift past Kizzi’s exposed fingers. She flinched. “Maybe I should make us some fireproof gear.”

“Yes. Let’s do that. And food. What do dragons eat?”

“We should’ve prepared for this.”

Redd snorted out a laugh. “Probably. Let’s see if we can track down any more books on dragon lore. In the meantime, we’ll just give him some options and see what he likes.”

“And some pastries for us, too,” I added. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Kizzi muttered, at the same time Redd said, “Of course, love.”

“Has Ember just been in here for hours, then?” I asked. “Tell me everything.”

“He’s been sleeping. Hex helped me get him back here, and then they both curled up and passed out. I blew some sleeping dust into his face to be sure he stayed asleep. He didn’t start to wake up until you got here.”

“Try setting him down. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Well,” Redd started. “He could burn the place down, or shred us all to pieces?—”

“I didn’t actually want answers. Just do it. You’ll have to let him free eventually.”

Kizzi donned a worried expression. “I wish Tandor was here, so we would have four folk. Four against one, those are better odds. Plus Hex. And the sprites. I think we can handle him.”

Kizzi was interrupted by the door swinging open. “Talking about me, little witch?” the green orc said with a bright grin. The room felt more crowded when he entered, his brawn taking up a lot of space.

The tension in the witch’s muscles loosened. “Your timing is impressive.” She glanced pointedly at the squirming bundle in her arms. “We got him. And now we’re going to let him go and see what happens.”

Tandor, to his credit, kept his composure. He merely pushed the door shut, turned the lock, and planted his feet, looking more like a bodyguard than a pub orc. “Sure, Kiz. I’m ready.”

“Let’s do this!” I shouted. Nerves and anticipation fluttered in my stomach.

Redd drifted to my side, looking like he might throw his body in front of mine if he had to. He nodded in Kizzi’s direction. “We’ll be fine,” he assured.

Kizzi held her breath for a moment before letting it out in a rush. “Okay. Okay. We’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this,” I agreed.

“I’m going to let the baby dragon go. Even though he was extremely hard to catch.”

“You are,” I urged.

“And it’s going to be fine.”

“Set the dragon down, Kiz. Quit stalling.”

She smiled bashfully. “You’re right. Okay. Three, two…” She crouched, setting Ember on the floor and gently unwrapping the cloth from around the dragon’s body.

Adrenaline tightened my muscles, sped my pulse, brought my senses into sharp focus. I was ready for anything.

At first, nothing happened.

We all stared at the dragon as it sat on the floor, looking around curiously.

“Well,” Tandor mused. “That was anticlimactic.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Kizzi said.

Ember slowly rose onto unsteady legs, looking more like a baby deer than a fearsome beast of legend. His wings unfurled and stretched. The veins were visible through the thin skin, dark and faintly pulsing.

We all tensed, prepared for the dragon to take flight, but he didn't. He simply curled his wings back up and then took an unsteady step. And then another, more solid. And another. With a start, I realized he was walking toward me.

I froze, holding perfectly still, not sure if I wanted to scream and jump up and down or throw up and cry.

My pulse hammered erratically in my chest.

Redd rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder, warm and solid.

The dragon approached, slowly, timidly, sniffing the air the entire time.

I held my breath.

And then the dragon stretched open its tiny maw.