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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Flight of the Golden Dragon

Morrigan felt a staticky tingle in her fingers and a burning in her chest.

Louis and Lottie St James. Son and daughter of Laurent St James. The man who wanted to send her back to the Wintersea Republic.

She took slow, even breaths, trying to control a sudden frightening urge to breathe fire.

‘Please, Miss, allow me,’ said a member of the wait staff in a discreet murmur, retrieving the plates from the ground at her feet.

Morrigan shook herself out of a stupor. ‘Sorry! I’ll do it – no, please, just leave it—’

Another waiter bustled over to help clear away the pastry massacre and Morrigan was edged out, left to look on uselessly and apologise repeatedly. She heard a now-familiar laugh and looked up to see the twins making their way back to the table, heads together, joking about something.

She was immediately certain it had all been a trick – ‘adopting’ her for the evening, making her believe they were friends. Had Laurent St James put them up to this himself? To find out more about her and … use it against her somehow?

Her face grew hot. She felt unbelievably stupid for ever having thought a pair of rich fifteen-year-olds wanted the pleasure of her company with no ulterior motive.

She turned and fled before they could spot her, winding around tables, dodging guests and weaving through the forest of ice sculptures on the other side of the Glade. She didn’t know where she was going; her only plan was to get as far away from the so-called fun table as humanly possible.

‘— specifically said to be on the lookout! You should have had staff stationed outside the Glade to intercept him.’

Morrigan pulled up short when she heard angry whispers coming from the path ahead.

Obeying her gut instinct, she retreated beneath the shadow of an ice dragon, peering around the curve of its enormous wing. Aunt Margot was talking to Mr Stirling, the wedding planner. Neither of them looked happy.

‘I was forced to offer him a place with the Mahapatras, one of our most prominent families,’ Aunt Margot continued in a low, furious voice, ‘and goodness knows what trouble he’s causing there.’

‘W-well, I-I didn’t …’ spluttered Mr Stirling. ‘Surely there was another place at the table of a Lesser family, if that’s what—’

‘We cannot insult one of our Greater Circle neighbours by placing him at a Lesser table,’ Margot said icily. ‘Especially not the Vul—especially not Mr Smithereens . Thank goodness I spotted him first and not you , or you’d have committed a faux pas from which my family might never recover. As for this dreadful band — ’

‘Ah!’ Mr Stirling puffed himself up indignantly. ‘Yes. This band . Do you truly believe I would book the Nevermoor Symphony Orchestra only to criminally underutilise them? They were supposed to play all night! This Gutterborn Five nonsense was your wretched sister’s doing, and as much a surprise to me as anyone else!’

‘How dare you call my sister—’

‘I’ll call her exactly what she is,’ Mr Stirling cut in. ‘A wretched, selfish, thoughtless fool who has singlehandedly wiped out my reputation with her heinous prank! This wedding was my MASTERPIECE. I should be rolling in job offers from every family in the district by this time tomorrow, but instead I shall be stained by gossip and ridicule, thanks to your ghastly little—’

‘It was YOUR job to keep this event under control, and not to let Modestine’s whimsy get the better of her!’ Aunt Margot snapped. ‘You failed catastrophically, and in doing so, threatened an already precarious relationship between two important families. And you will speak respectfully of my sister , Mr Stirling, or I will have you removed.’

The man gave a short, hysterical laugh. ‘Lady Margot, I shall gladly remove myself from this hive of scandal and disgrace. And first thing Monday morning I will speak to my solicitor about suing your family for reputational damage.’

He turned and stormed out of the Glade.

‘ Where are you going? ’ Aunt Margot called after him, sounding panicked by his departure, despite having threatened to kick him out. ‘Your job isn’t finished! The cake-cutting is scheduled in fourteen minutes, and goodness only knows where the groom has disappeared to! Don’t you dare leave my sister in the lurch, or — ’

‘Or what?’ he growled, turning back. ‘You can’t threaten me, Lady Margot. I will have the final word on this matter. Your family will regret crossing me.’

When she was certain the coast was clear, Morrigan escaped the Glade and found herself wandering the paths of the Paramour Pleasure Gardens, chewing over the events of the evening. Her enjoyment of the wedding had fizzled and then completely evaporated with the appearances of Noelle Devereaux and Laurent St James – the two people who quite possibly despised her most of anyone in the world.

Her unhappiness was compounded by the sudden realisation of how cold and tired she was. Outside the warmth of the Glade, a chilly fog drifted off the canal, and the shadowy Pleasure Gardens felt much less inviting than they had in the golden glow of sunset. Morrigan clicked her fingers to conjure a small flickering fire, caging it in her hands. There was no danger of anyone seeing her use Inferno out here; the sounds of music and chatter floating from the Glade told her the party was still in full swing.

Without paying attention to where she was going, Morrigan found herself on the deck of the boathouse, watching the colourful boats bobbing in the water. She bit her lip as the seed of a terrible idea planted itself in her head.

It couldn’t be that hard to paddle one of these things, surely. There wouldn’t be much canal traffic to dodge at this time of night.

Perhaps it was dishonest to steal a boat, but … well, she wouldn’t really be stealing it, would she? More like borrowing. She could paddle her way out of the Silver District, leave the boat at Ogden Town Station, take the Wunderground home to the Deucalion and … figure out the rest later?

She felt a little guilty at the thought of leaving without so much as a word to her aunts. But then again, a question was growing louder in the back of Morrigan’s mind …

Why did the Darlings invite Laurent St James to the wedding?

Aunt Margot said she’d seen the story about Morrigan in the newspaper, and that was how she’d learned of her existence … Surely , then, she must have seen the furore afterwards from St James? Why would they invite him to be in the same place as their niece and grandchild, when he’d so aggressively declared his opposition to her? Was the preservation of Silver District etiquette simply more important?

Morrigan exhaled fiercely through her nose. Before common sense could kick in, she let that wave of indignation carry her right into one of the narrow, flat-bottomed swan boats, climbing over the seats and lifting the feather-shaped oar with both hands.

It was heavier than she’d expected, and holding on to it while standing up was much harder than it looked.

‘You can do this,’ she told herself sternly. ‘It’s not that hard.’

But as it turned out, it was that hard. She couldn’t see how anybody could simultaneously steer and paddle and keep their balance. The more she tried to control the swan’s rocking, the harder and more violently it rocked, until she’d lost her grip on the oar altogether and watched in dismay as it slipped beneath the water.

‘ACK! No .’

In a panicked fumble, Morrigan reached out to claw it back, lost her footing and tumbled over the side of the boat with an enormous SPLASH .

It took a few false starts and one particularly hairy moment when her dress caught on something beneath the water, but after several minutes and a hard yank to rip the skirt, she managed to crawl back into the boat. Struggling to catch her breath, Morrigan flopped down on one of the little plush seats, dripping canal water and feeling utterly furious at herself.

She’d finally resigned herself to the horrendous prospect of returning to the Glade, when she heard the splash of an oar breaking water, and murmuring voices from across the canal. She turned towards the sound and saw the prow of the golden dragon boat slice through the darkness beneath the nearest bridge, emerging in moonlight. There were two figures inside; one was facing away from her, but the other was unmistakably Dario Rinaldi.

Morrigan instinctively threw herself to the floor of the swan boat. The last person she wanted to see while making her unauthorised getaway was Aunt Modestine, especially having so thoroughly ruined the dress that once belonged to Meredith. She couldn’t bear the thought of making someone cry for a second time on their wedding day.

The golden dragon came to a stop just one boat away from Morrigan. She squeezed her eyes shut and contorted her body as far into the shadows as possible, trying to quiet her heavy breathing and pounding heart.

‘Sweetheart, please .’ Dario’s voice was clear in the still, quiet night. He sounded sad. ‘You should go back to the Glade. They’ll be looking for you.’

There was a sigh followed by a long silence.

Finally, Dario gave an awkward chuckle. ‘You realise Mr Stirling will kill me if I don’t keep to schedule? Truly, I can’t tell if we hired a wedding planner or a drill sergeant—’

‘I’m tired, Dario. This isn’t how it was supposed to be.’

Morrigan frowned. The second voice was a woman’s, low and husky.

It was not Aunt Modestine’s voice.

‘We only need to be patient for a little longer, my love.’ Dario sighed. ‘Just until the spring, and then—’

‘But you don’t know that!’ the woman insisted. ‘It could be another year, or more. Why must we wait so long to be happy?’

‘Georgette, darling—’

Morrigan gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth and held her breath.

Georgette. Gigi.

‘—I swear to you, it’s true,’ continued Dario, thankfully covering the sound of Morrigan’s shock. ‘All the people I’ve spoken to say the same thing: Basking is coming .’

Georgette Devereaux scoffed. ‘And which people would those be?’

‘Swotty people who know about these things,’ he said, a teasing smile in his voice. ‘Experts. Please, please trust me. I know it’s going to happen. And as soon as spring arrives and the Silver Assembly is done, we won’t have to hide anymore. I can come to Bohemia. We can finally be together … but we must stick to the plan. Everything’s going to be okay, Georgie.’

‘It’s not. You’ll always be tied to the Silver District. There’s too much holding you here – the business, your dragon—’

‘I’m tied to you ,’ the groom said coaxingly. ‘I love you more than anything. I love you a million drag — ’

‘ I can’t do this anymore .’ Her voice broke as she cut him off. ‘I can’t bear it. Watching the two of you together tonight, seeing you have everything we never can—’

‘Darling, don’t say that. We will —’

‘I should never have come back here. I forgot how much I hate this place.’

‘Georgie—’

‘Goodbye, Dario.’

Morrigan heard water lapping aggressively against the dragon boat and high-heeled shoes clicking on the wooden pier.

‘Wait!’ cried Dario. ‘Georgie, please, don’t leave like this. Let’s just—’

‘ Go , Dario,’ she called back to him bitterly. ‘It’s nearly midnight. Your wife is waiting for her surprise.’

Morrigan could do nothing but wait, eyes wide with shock, staring up at the starlit sky. Shivering with cold, she stayed there until Gigi’s footsteps disappeared into the distance, until the splashing of Dario’s oars faded beneath the bridge, until the only sound she could hear was the soft whoosh of the water and her own heart thumping in her ears.

‘Where are you going, o son of the morning …’

Halfway back to the Glade, Morrigan had stepped into a darkened gazebo to make herself at least somewhat presentable before re-entering the arena.

‘Up with the sun where the winds are warming …’

Singing the familiar Morningtide’s Child – her song to summon Wunder – she conjured a dry heat to her fingertips and ran them lightly all over the dress and through her hair, revelling in the warmth as the canal water steamed and evaporated. The peach gown hadn’t quite recovered its full puffy volume from before the dunking, but at least the clean water in the Silver District canals had washed away the chocolate. She carefully ripped off a hanging strand of fabric, hoping no one would notice the tear.

Feeling much more comfortable, Morrigan climbed onto the sandstone table and propped her boots up on the seat. She put her head in her hands, hating absolutely everything. How, she wondered, had a single night managed to take so many awful turns, one after the other? The Silver District was looking more tarnished by the minute.

She couldn’t stop thinking of how glowingly Aunt Modestine had spoken about Dario, and the adoring way she looked at him. Her best friend , she’d called him.

Morrigan groaned, rubbing her face agitatedly. Should she tell the Darlings about Dario and Gigi?

The quiet was broken by the gentle voice of Sunny Ghoshal over the microphone. ‘Friends and honoured guests of the bride and groom, we have one last treat for you this evening. The new Mr Dario Darling requests that you all leave the Glade and make your way towards Darling Bridge, where he has arranged a special gift for the love of his life, as is tradition. A Midnight Surprise to end the evening with a bang.’

Morrigan watched an exodus of happy, excited guests swarm in the direction of the boathouse. With a sigh, she decided she might as well join them instead of sitting in the dark on her own like a weirdo.

As she reached Darling Bridge there was a loud, rumbling roar like the sound of an engine, and then a chilling screech rent the air. The crowd ducked as one when an enormous dark shadow passed dangerously close overhead.

Everyone looked up to see a dragon, roughly the size of two elephants, rising higher into the sky. It screeched again and breathed a great plume of bright orange fire; Morrigan could feel the heat of it on her face. The wedding guests gasped as it soared above the rooftop of Darling House, spiralled swiftly around its highest peak, then tumbled into a steep dive towards the canal.

For all that he was a rotten liar and a scoundrel and a cheat … Dario was a truly magnificent dragonrider.

‘The jewel in the Rinaldi Stables crown,’ declared a man standing near Morrigan on the footbridge, raising a half-empty wine glass to the dragon and her rider. ‘ Alights on the Water Like a Seabird . I’ve got a thousand kred on her to top the leaderboard in the Winter Trials.’

The ancient reptile zoomed down the centre of the canal, so close to the water she could have reached out a talon and broken its surface. It was clear where she got her name.

Morrigan was no dragon expert, but you couldn’t be best friends with Hawthorne Swift without picking up some reptilian knowledge. Alights on the Water Like a Seabird was a luminescent breed, she knew that much. That meant she had her own internal, biological source of light that spidered out across her thick hide in shimmering waves. She glowed like precious metal, like a moving sunset.

Guided by Dario, Alights flew high above the canal and loosed a shower of sparks from her jaws, flying in a tight and complex series of manoeuvres while breathing a constant stream of fire to write words in the sky.

I LOVE YOU

There was a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the guests.

‘Oh, my sweet little prince!’ cried a woman Morrigan recognised as Olivia Rinaldi, the mother of the groom.

‘That’s my brilliant boy!’ bellowed Vincenzo Rinaldi, standing with an arm around his wife’s waist. ‘Look at that precision! Oh, Cosimo, don’t look so cross.’ Vincenzo laughed and clapped his younger son on the back. ‘He didn’t tell you he was taking her out of the stables, eh?’

Cosimo was watching the spectacular display through narrowed eyes and looking just as sombre as he had all day. He shook his head and said nothing.

Vincenzo gave an indulgent shrug. ‘It’s a gift for his beautiful bride! We do silly things when we are in love.’

Seeing his father wouldn’t allow him to be a stick in the mud, Cosimo relented and gave a small, grim smile. Vincenzo laughed again, drawing him in for a sideways hug. Morrigan noticed there were tears in the older man’s eyes.

‘My wonderful boys,’ he said loudly. ‘Such talent and brains in one family! How did I get so lucky, eh?’

But Dario and his dragon weren’t quite finished. They flew in a wide circle above the bridge and then looped back around to finish the message.

A MILLION DRAGONS

Morrigan felt sick.

I love you a million dragons. That’s what Dario had been trying to say to Gigi, when she cut him off to say goodbye.

The message in the sky wasn’t for Modestine. It was for the woman he truly loved.

There was much clapping and cheering as the words turned to smoke, leaving their ghostly impressions in the sky. Alights on the Water rose higher again, performing an astounding series of loop-the-loops. Morrigan turned to look at the hundreds of wedding guests spilling down from the bridge and onto the banks of the canal.

She couldn’t see Gigi Grand anywhere. But because everyone else had their eyes on the sky, Morrigan was the first to see the boat.

For the second time that night, she watched the Rinaldis’ golden dragon glide slowly out from beneath a Greater Circle bridge, cutting through the dark water.

The real dragon flew away into the distance as a shower of sparks exploded above the canal with a great big BANG … then another, and another – the whole sky lighting up with fireworks to mark the end of the display. Morrigan felt a chill on the back of her neck as the scene below her was fully illuminated. Someone was lying on the flat bottom of the boat, arms thrown out at an odd angle.

She stared for a moment, trying to make sense of what she was seeing … when a blood-curdling scream from somewhere on the bridge split the air in two. Someone else had seen him too.

It was Dario in the boat. Impossibly. Unmistakably .

Dario, who just moments ago had flown off into the night on the back of a dragon.

Dario, lying on the floor of the golden boat as dark, wet blood pooled around him, spreading from beneath his back.

Young, handsome Dario, whose eyes stared lifelessly up at the sky, reflecting the glow of the fireworks.