Page 59 of Magical Moonbeam
The door sighed open, and the air changed immediately.
Heavier. Older. Scented with smoke and damp stone, tinged with the soft metallic scent of scale and magic.
My heart thudded with something that wasn’t fear exactly, but reverence.
I wasn’t sure the dragons would welcome me now, but something inside urged me on.
The wide den glittered with bioluminescent moss and strands of crystal embedded in the walls. A soft orange glow pulsed in the far corner. The nest had moved. The sound of breathing, slow and deep and steady, echoed like wind down a canyon.
And there they were.
Curled like celestial serpents, their bodies shimmered in low light—silver, jade, a deep plum streaked with gold. At least three adults lay scattered across the den, half-asleep but still alert, their eyes opening one by one as I stepped forward.
But my attention was pulled beyond them.
To the far wall.
To the clutch of young dragons nestled in the stone alcove hollowed by time and instinct. The youngest was no bigger than a hound, the eldest not much bigger. Though their wings were already too large for their bodies, they were draped over eachother like velvet canopies. One lifted its head at my approach. Its eyes impossibly clear, its horns still soft and pearlescent.
My breath caught.
They were beautiful.
And fragile.
Andnew.
A soft rumble stirred to my left.
She’d changed so much from when she’d first hatched.
One of the adults, a silvery dragon with sea-glass eyes, shifted and lifted her head. Her scales rippled in the light like moonlight over water, and her voice came not with sound, but as thought. Old and warm and undeniably feminine.
Bellemore child,she said.Why do you come?
I stood frozen, the dragon’s voice still echoing inside my mind, not in sound, but in thought, smooth and ancient, threading directly into my consciousness. My mouth opened, but no words came.
I could understand her. Not vaguely, not through intuition or some dreamlike haze, but clearly.
Intimately.
It was as if she were speaking in my own language, woven with stardust and scale. Shock rippled through me, a full-body jolt of wonder and disbelief.
“I didn’t know I could…” I whispered aloud, more to myself than anyone else. The silver dragon blinked slowly, her gaze like moonlight through mist, and I knew in my soul that this moment, this connection, had just changed everything.
I stepped closer, bowing my head just slightly. “I needed… clarity.”
The dragon studied me for a long moment.Clarity is rare this close to Moonbeam.
“I know.” I glanced toward the younglings. “But I needed to see what we’re protecting. What’s growing? What still has a chance.”
The silver dragon rumbled low in her chest, a sound that vibrated through my ribs.You walk near the fire, Maeve Bellemore. And yet you still look for light.
“I don’t know how else to move forward,” I admitted. “Gideon is unraveling everything, Stonewick, the Veil, my family, and I can’t keep guessing what comes next. I need insight. Anything.”
Another dragon shifted nearby, this one dark bronze with long curling horns. His thoughts felt like thunderclouds gathering just past the horizon.
You seek answers from creatures who do not meddle in human time.
