Chapter Six Lyra #2
For tonight, I’d paired the dress with a sheer black cloak scattered with tiny golden moths. The hood framed my face, and when I pulled it back, my hair—twisted by Felicity into a complicated crown of braids and curls—tumbled down my back with bits of copper leaf pinned throughout.
With it, I’d paired delicate lace wings that shimmered with golden crystals, and a matching half mask that covered my eyes and nose in filigreed vines. Ruth and I would match… all forest mischief and feral glitter.
As for my makeup? Somehow Tam had managed to make me look both ethereal and a little dangerous, with smoky eyes and lipstick that looked like I’d been eating raspberries all morning.
“Your brushwork is exquisite,” I told Tam, who looked edgy and sexy in a fitted moss-green suit coat and slim black trousers, with no shirt under her coat, and a slinky necklace in the shape of a snake sliding down her décolletage. Tam rolled her hand and took a bow, and we all cheered.
“I can’t wear this,” Sloane said, peeking her head out from the top of the stairs.
“Yes, you can,” I called up. We’d gone over this several times today.
“Nope. Can’t do it. It’s see-through, Lyra. The town will judge me.”
“Ruth?” I asked, and Ruth snapped to attention, drawing her sword. In seconds, she’d flitted upstairs, and after one shriek from Sloane, she returned with her sword sheathed.
She’ll be down shortly.
“Lovely.” Turning, I clapped my hands. “I think this is the best you all have looked. Seriously, thank you so much for coming over and for doing… all this. If I didn’t have you lot, I’d be rocking a flour-covered apron and stress-crying into my batter.”
Steps sounded behind me, and I turned, bringing my hands to my mouth in anticipation.
I’d put Sloane in silk, with a sheer overlay of the most intricate netting of crystals.
Every step she took made her softly shimmer, and the silk moved with her curves beautifully.
I’d chosen a deep bronze gold, the color of bonfire embers, so that under the festival torches she’d look like she was carved from living flame.
“This makes me look naked,” Sloane protested.
“Holy hell, Sloane.” Nova whistled. Tam fanned herself. Felicity’s eyes were wide as saucers.
“I suspect we won’t see much of you once Knox gets his eyes on you in the forest,” I said.
Sloane’s cheeks heated, and she turned, revealing the dropped back.
“It’s not too much? Or… too little… I should say? This is a town festival, not an orgy.”
“Och, no. Look at me.” I pointed to my cleavage, made even more formidable by the boning of the bodice. “I’ve got everything spilling out every which way in this dress. Between the two of us, we’re basically providing heating for the event.”
“And I will speak on behalf of every man in town, and a few of the women as well—we are grateful for it,” Tam said, winking at me.
“Thank you.” I laughed, running my hands down my body. There was just something about a well-fitted dress that put me in a great mood.
“Well, ladies? Shall we?” Broca asked, sweeping her cloak dramatically around her shoulders. Her own dress was a riot of orange and red, like a walking pile of autumn leaves.
“I feel like we’re some ragtag band of Charlie’s Angels,” Nova observed. She wore a leather sheath dress with intricate cutouts at her sides, paired with an armful of bangles that jingled when she moved.
“That works for me. I mean, I may not know any ninja moves, but I’ve got Ruth to take care of things for me now.”
“She’s terrifying,” Sloane hissed as we walked to the lane, where Knox had arranged for vans to pick up festivalgoers from town and ferry them to the forest edge.
The Mabon clearing was deep enough in the woods that we didn’t want drunk villagers trying to navigate the paths alone in the dark.
“Did you know she threatened to trim my split ends with that sword?”
“She was bluffing,” I said, although… I wouldn’t really put it past her.
I glanced up at the clear sky, stars winking against inky darkness. Worry burst through my excitement, and my stomach twisted in knots. I twisted the ring on my hand, biting my lower lip.
“That’s not for today, Lyra.” Sloane curved her arm through mine as we climbed into the van.
“Tonight is about honoring the turning of the wheel and reminding the town that the MacGregors aren’t a walking disaster.
I promise you I’m working on finding out more about the curse.
We’ve made friends here. The town doesn’t hate us so much anymore.
We can do this. But for tonight? Let it all go, okay? Promise me?”
“Aye, I will. Or I’ll at least pretend very convincingly. You can give me an award afterward.”
The van jolted into motion, fairy lights strung along the ceiling swaying gently, and I leaned my head against the cool glass, watching Briarhaven’s stone cottages slip past. Lanterns burned in windows, casting warm pools of light that made my chest ache with the sheer home of it all.
By the time we’d reached the edge of the woods and followed the lantern-lit path to the main clearing, I’d managed to push most of my worry down.
The forest had been transformed.
Warm golden orbs floated among the trees, bobbing gently as if moved by some unseen current.
Twinkle lights were strung in swooping arcs from trunk to trunk, and hundreds of glass jars filled with candles were clustered on mossy logs, tree stumps, and low tables brought out just for this event.
The scent of woodsmoke, mulled cider, and damp earth perfumed the air.
Between the trees, stalls had been set up, with local artisans selling charms and knitwear, carved wooden dragons, jars of preserves, and delicate glittering crowns and masks for those who wanted to add to their costumes.
At the center of it all stood a massive bonfire, a carefully built tower of logs and branches and twisted vines.
Around it, a wide circle had been cleared for dancing.
A small wooden stage had been erected off to one side, where the band tuned their instruments, fiddles and pipes already weaving bright strands of music through the clearing.
And above us, beyond the black silhouettes of the pines, the sky loomed huge and clear. I could practically feel the dragons out there, restless, circling above their remote ridge, waiting for their calling.
The line of people on the path paused, creating a pocket of space, we were ushered through like we were a special procession, and I beamed as Knox strode out from between two trees, looking devastating in his kilt and a dark cloak, a simple black mask over his eyes.
“Oh, wow. I…” Sloane trailed off as she gaped at Knox. “The mask is…”
“Hot?” I supplied, and Sloane swallowed, nodding.
“Who would have thought?”
“Me,” Nova said, laughing as Knox came to a halt, his gaze landing on Sloane.
An almost feral look crossed his face, and he audibly swallowed, suddenly unable to speak.
“Dear goddess, please let a man look at me like that,” I whispered, putting my hands together like I was praying.
“Oh, hush, they all look at you that way.” Nova elbowed me.
“No, not like that,” I said, nodding to where Knox held out his hand, drawing Sloane forward onto the pine-needle-strewn grass.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders for balance, and he turned his face into the crook of her arm, tracing his lips over the inner skin of her bicep. She flushed, laughing up at him.
“Och, aye, I get it.” Nova and I leaned into each other, sighing as Knox whispered something in Sloane’s ear and her cheeks flushed again.
I could hardly blame her. Knox could easily be a Disney prince, carrying his knightly duties with ease.
Seeing her happy with him made my insides go all ooey-gooey with delight.
“Ladies.” Knox finally looked up, cheeks a touch flushed as well. I considered my work here done. “You both look ravishing. Blessed Mabon, Lyra.”
“Thank you,” I said, accepting his hand as he helped me over a gnarled tree root. Once in the clearing, I hurried toward the long trestle tables already laden with food, a sharp breeze chasing me and making my cloak billow dramatically.
At the edge of the clearing, Henry—Knox’s butler—stood by a smaller cooking fire, dressed in a proper tuxedo with a tartan scarf thrown over one shoulder.
“Oh, stop, this is beyond cute,” I said, skidding to a halt as I looked at the animals at his side.
Knox had two familiars, a blind cat named Oswald, and Haggis, a mini Highland coo with a birth defect who used a wheelchair.
Both sported tiny autumn-leaf wreaths around their necks, while Blue sat dutifully next to them, wearing a blue tartan bow tie.
“How on earth did you get them to sit in a row like that?” I demanded.
“Extreme bribery,” Henry said serenely. “Might I say, you look enchanting this evening, Miss MacGregor? Very Mabon chic.” He inclined his head, candlelight glinting off his glasses.
“Thank you. Can you just help me with my wings?” I’d taken them off on the walk in case they snagged on every twig in existence, and Henry obliged, sliding the harness over my shoulders and tightening the buckles for me.
“There. Now you’re the true forest princess of the festival.”
“I do feel like one.” I laughed, and Haggis wheeled forward to butt his nose against my leg.
“You three look fantastic,” I said, crouching to scratch Haggis’s ears.
You look the prettiest. Haggis tilted his head so I could scratch behind his ears.
I’ll take his word for it, Oswald said dryly, rolling onto his back and showing his belly. He still looked vaguely disinterested.
Pretty Lyra, Blue sang into my mind, his mental voice bright as a bell.
All three of their voices clamored in my head, and I gasped, loving that I could hear them all talk now.