Page 7 of The Dragon's Stone Hearted Mate
Chapter Four
Mori
Nightshade Bear Territory
I sat at Preston’s kitchen table reading through the mail that wasn’t from the supposed Postcard Men. It had rained for nearly two days straight coming down in torrents and buckets, leaving an inch of water in the town square that we all had to squish-squash through to go anywhere. A couple of times, Dad and I had tried to encourage the ground to absorb the water more quickly but there was only so much the ground could do when the sky refused to run out of tears. Whoever made her sad needed to fuck right off.
Through the kitchen window I watched two bear cubs run through the water back and forth chasing each other. Water splashed everywhere as they played tag. I’d gone through all my mail, saving my letter from Crilus for last. His were usually long, winding letters about the state of life and magic in Moonscale London. He was originally from the Raven Hollow Wolf Pack. The son of two of the leaders there. That and magic were mostly what we had in common. He owned a bar called the Raven’s Perch that I had never visited. So, we were both entrepreneurs too.
Preston sat on the other side of the table, knitting scarves for the winter. His fingers moved so quickly over the needles and yarn that watching him always made me a bit dizzy. Still, that’s what I’d come home for. I needed to remember who I was. Sure, I was Dern’s replacement – maybe, but first and foremost I was Nightshade. I was about big feasts and slow living. I worked with the land and with spirits. I didn’t live in a big ole house doing nothing except waiting for some huge destiny to catapult me up onto some pedestal. Those were for movie stars and people whose parents thought money was a replacement for affection.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Preston asked.
“Are you brain-eavesdropping again?” I leaned back in the kitchen chair.
“Don’t have to when you get that look. Did something else happen out there that you didn’t tell me about?” he asked, without pausing his knitting.
“I think it was going to my head. All the attention around Dern and Ormund and how I’d be the next him. How I’d been chosen by some special group from the Other World to do important things.”
“You’ve always wanted to do important things, brother,” Preston chuckled. “Even when we were kids you talked about it. You have a bit of a hero complex. It’s not a bad thing, exactly. You’re not too full of yourself most of the time. Believe me, people who are, don’t stop to consider if they’re full of themselves. Even if the postcard was a hoax, I think you’ll do important things. You just need to remember that not everything important changes the world. I’m knitting scarves and hats for the winter. It won’t change the world but it’s important. I’m sure you’ll go on to have great adventures and save people and that will be important too but so is keeping people warm in winter.”
“I didn’t mean that your jobs aren’t important,” I said, creasing my brow. Had I come across like that?
“When you were younger you always made the magic stuff sound as if it were the only important thing in the universe.”
“It felt like that at one time,” I admitted.
“I’m glad you came to visit and not just because you’re good at winding the yarn into balls. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Mori, if I did. I meant you grew out of that phase. Now, you know better. Community thrives off of small but important labor,” Preston said. “You’ll thank me when you’re not freezing your ass off on your adventures. I don’t think Ni wants to share Teddy so you stay warm. Enough about that. What does Crilus have to say? In what new ways has Moonscale London been a disappointment?”
I turned my attention back to the letter.
My Dearest Cousin,(Crilus never let us forget that our sire hailed from his birth pack)
I hope this letter finds you well. I admit I was confused when Ni informed me that you had returned home to the Nightshade Bears unexpectedly when I phoned the house in the Appalachian Wolf Pack Territory asking for you. I hope all is well and it was merely homesickness that dragged your tail home and not some omen of impending doom.
Moonscale London is quieter now that the triplets have returned to Heartville. Not that I blame them after the events that continued to explode --- I mean unfold--- all around them.(Crilus had drawn little explosions all around the edges of the stationery as if to make his point.)
Though, I’d be a liar if I said I do not miss my old friends. They brought a life to the Raven’s Perch that not many could. I’d also be a liar not to admit I miss the attention of their single years. There was something about their attention and affection that made me look forward to opening the bar every day.
Speaking of dragons who pull disappearing acts, Morvan hasn’t stopped by any of the restaurants or reached out to me in months. I’m continuing to run his businesses but am starting to bend under pressure. I’ve taken the initiative and hired more staff to help me run things smoothly, but I’ve encountered a unique dilemma that I sincerely wish that ---”
“He’s as dramatic and old-timey as ever in his letters,” Preston chuckled across the table, and I shushed him so I could continue reading the letter aloud.
“but I’ve encountered a unique dilemma that I sincerely wish that I could run by Morvan. His disappearance and lackof communication has left me in a sticky spot. His brother has been trapped in one of the walk-in freezers for nearly three months now. As soon as Morvan disappeared from the radar completely, the spirit of Torvan took up torturing the staff and patrons there. Unsure of how Morvan wanted the ghost of his twin handled, I did the simplest thing one could do in the situation and trapped him. His location has caused much trouble for the staff as that walk-in freezer is now unfit for purpose as you may imagine. At first, I left him alone inside of it figuring he would grow bored and move on because indeed moving on is the only way he’s going to escape his imprisonment. I am good at what I do. Only I checked last night and he’s still in there and as violent as he’s ever been.
I do not wish to hoist this ghost upon your shoulders, but I am not equipped to banish him to his afterlife or at least out of the restaurants I have somehow inherited. Alas, I have no other choice because I refuse to report the issue to Medwin Moonscale. It was Clarence who ordered Torvan’s death after all and I fear any interference from that family will only serve to spark his ire further. So, I humbly ask of you my dearest cousin to send this bastard dragon back to the Pit of Frost.
Most Sincerely,
Your Favorite Cousin Crilus.”
“Favorite, huh? He doesn’t know anything,” Preston laughed. “Our cousins here… No, Mori. Just no. Don’t get that look. Stay my brother and not someone running around playing with magic.”
“I’m your brother even when I’m working,” I sighed. “That’s like saying you’re not my brother when you knit Besides, you’re coming with me to London next weekend.”
“What? With you? Next weekend? Can he wait that long?” Preston shot off his question in rapid fire succession.
“Yes, he can wait until next weekend. You have your ‘Nightshade Knit-In’ on Wednesday and we’re not missing that! Believe it or not, I think the little ears of the kids here are more important than one angry ghost who wanted to murder his brother not that long ago. You’re coming because someone has to! What if I faint on the way there or while I’m fighting him?”
