Moonblood (Tales of Goldstone Wood Book #3) (52 page)

Felix took another bite from his plate, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully.

Eanrin growled, “Up and at it, boy. We’ve a long journey to make, and I would like to start before the next century. Cheery bye, Imraldera, old girl. Mind you, I’ll be back within a fortnight, and I’ve a whole list of songs that require your scribe’s hand!” He slapped the boy, perhaps a little roughly, on the shoulder. “Up!”

Felix rose and saluted Dame Imraldera, then cast a last gaze about the company. His eyes lingered a moment on the queen, so small and lonely on her high seat. But the lady sitting beside her took her hand, and Felix thought to himself,
She’ll be all right. She’ll be a good queen. Just what this land needs.

He cast about for the Prince of Farthestshore but didn’t see him, and the blind man, now a cat again, was growling and lashing his tail with impatience. “All right, Monster,” Felix said. “Lead on.”

They traveled quickly on the Prince’s Paths, out of the gray plain of Arpiar and into the Wood Between. There Felix found himself blinking in great surprise when he recognized the old plank bridge near which he and his sister had once played many games. “I didn’t know we were so close!”

“So close?” the cat asked as he led the way across the Old Bridge.

“So close to Faerie all those years! I mean, we always joked about it, Una and I, but . . . Iubdan’s beard, it really does put things in perspective for you, doesn’t it? We even found you here!”

“I remember,” the cat said. “You needn’t remind me. Come along, Prince Felix.”

“You know something, Monster?” Felix said as he climbed Goldstone Hill behind the cat. His heart was light as he passed through the familiar grounds once more, full of fond memories. “You know, I think Dame Imraldera is very pretty. What do you think?”

“I think you’re slower than a slug, prince, that’s what I think,” said the cat, and he darted on ahead up the hill. “Last one to the top carries the other one back down the other side!”

Felix groaned, rolled his eyes, and puffed on the trail of the Chief Poet of Rudiobus. As he went, his gaze was caught by something lying in the brush a little out of his way. Curious, he pushed through the bracken to investigate and found a sword. It was an ornate weapon with a golden hilt set with jewels, and the blade was etched all over with intricate figures and the name
Bloodbiter’s Wrath.
Felix liked the looks of it, so he picked it up and carried it with him as he followed the cat up Goldstone Hill.

Epilogue

A
H, THERE YOU ARE,
F
ELIX
. I’d just been wondering where you’d gotten off to.”

Felix, climbing the path in the wake of the cat, stopped and turned to see King Fidel amid the ruins of Oriana’s gardens. He’d been stooping over a green bush but straightened up as he addressed his son.

“Father!” Felix cried and loped over to him. He stopped short, not quite daring to embrace the king. Instead he looked at him, openmouthed, and saw his father’s eyebrows bunch into a concerned frown.

“Where have you been?” Fidel asked. “Out in the Wood?”

Felix nodded. “How long have I been away?”

“I don’t know,” Fidel said. “A few hours. I’ve been down in the city inspecting the work being done there. I wondered if I might find you up here.”

Thunder rolled overhead. The storm blowing in from the sea drew near and would soon release its power upon the shore. Felix stared up at the sky and around at the garden, then back to his father. “A few hours?”

“It was rather unprincely of you to run off,” the king continued, turning back to the green bush. “The foreman was expecting to meet his future sovereign, and I was obliged to make excuses. But you were in such a foul temper.”

“I was?”

“Do you deny it?”

Felix bowed his head. His memories of recent life were a blur. He felt as though he’d passed into a dream—a dream that lasted for weeks, months, even years!—only to find himself right back where and when he’d started. Nothing was certain. Everything was changed. He drew a deep breath and raised his chin once more. He had faced a dragon, and he had won. Suddenly, despite the gathering storm clouds, the world was a brighter place. It was a place he could master and a place he could serve.

At that moment, he saw what his father was inspecting on the bush. Little knobs and buds sprouted all over in the midst of thickening greenery. And in a few places, the buds were already beginning to unfurl their gorgeous secrets.

“Roses!” Felix cried. “Those are roses!”

Fidel, for the first time in many weeks, smiled at his son. “Indeed. After all these years, the roses have at last decided to bloom again. I think perhaps it is an honor paid Parumvir since the marriage of your sister to the Prince of Farthestshore. What do you think?”

“Maybe,” Felix said, bending to gaze more closely at the delicate pink blossoms, breathing in their sweetness, richer even than the smell of the sea. He thought of the spells he’d seen broken. He thought of all the goblin people unveiled. And he knew that the roses too had been set free.

Once more, thunder growled. Fidel patted his son’s shoulder, a little awkwardly. “Come, my boy,” he said. “We’d best take shelter up in the ruins until this passes over. I see you found your sister’s cat! Has he been lurking around here all this time?”

They continued up the path, the cat trailing after them, certainly not following, but as eager as they to escape the coming rain. “I killed a dragon today,” Felix said as they went.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Felix smiled to himself. Some stories, he realized, were best left untold.

The first rain began to fall, landing in his hair, on his face. It felt cool and fresh. It was a rain that might wash away the last of the Dragon’s smoke. Liberated roses bloomed everywhere. Old marble statues, knocked from their pedestals, were gaudy with blossoms. And up ahead, the poor, broken ruins of Oriana boasted curtains of climbing roses, which drank in the rain and nodded their dainty heads at the approaching king and his son.

Oriana was destroyed. But when the new palace was built, it would be more beautiful by far, and this garden of roses would surpass the old one.

“I’ve been thinking about the name of the new palace,” Felix said as he and his father, swiftly dampening, hastened toward the sheltering ruins. They ducked into a doorway, the cat just behind them, shaking his wet paws and grooming his soggy tail.

“Is that so?” said Fidel, wiping rain from his beard. “Well, I suppose we’re going to have to come to an agreement on it sometime. What ideas do you bring to the table, then?”

“I’d like to call it
Imraldera
.”

Fidel gave his son a sidelong glance. “It’s an unusual name. What language is that?”

“An old one.”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” said the prince. “But I think it’s pretty.”

And the cat looked up from his grooming, growled, and lashed his tail.

About the Author

Anne Elisabeth Stengl makes her home in Raleigh, North Carolina, where she lives with her husband, Rohan, and a passel of cats. When she’s not writing, she enjoys Shakespeare, opera, and tea, and studies piano, painting, and fencing. She studied illustration at Grace College and English literature at Campbell University. She is the author of
Heartless, Veiled Rose
, and
Moonblood
.
Heartless
won a 2011 Christy Award.

Tales of Goldstone Wood

Heartless

Veiled Rose

Moonblood

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