63
The Ball of the Blue Moon
Melody
The girls and I spend the whole day fussing over dresses, makeup, and costumes, and Blair spends the better part of the evening sighing over my hair until I finally give up, run my fingers through the lilac, shoulder-length waves, and leave it as it is—very much to her frustration.
The campus conjures incredibly beautiful dresses for us. But when I finally unpack mine from a strange, velvety black box tied with a red silken ribbon and slip into it, I gasp in awe, because it is something else entirely.
It’s long, black, and glittering, with a round neckline and no straps, but a slit that runs down to my belly button, hiding it just enough.
The left side is cut so high it bares my leg, and when I spin, it shimmers in impossible colors, from deep blue to lilac to the darkest gray—the color of Caryan’s eyes sometimes.
I don’t know whether it’s magic or the tiny crystals stitched into the fabric that cause the effect, but it’s extraordinary as hells.
It comes with a smaller black box, tied with the same dark-ruby ribbon. Inside are silver earrings—large amethysts shaped like drops, set in delicate filigree.
When I put them on, they almost reach my shoulders.
I stare at my reflection. With the makeup Blair spent hours painting on me, I look older. Beautiful.
Shay and Faye squeal when I step out of the bathroom—Shay a vision in luminous silver, her robe stitched with constellations, a snow-fox fur stola draped around her shoulders, rivaling her long, silver-white hair—and Faye in emerald satin that bares her shoulders and freckles, matching gauntlets hugging her arms. Foxes and deer are sewn across the fabric in threads of gold.
“You look gorgeous,” Blair says, beaming at me warmly when I turn to her and Aris on the bed.
“No, you look gorgeous!” Shay and I say at the same time, because hells, Blair will probably always be the most beautiful woman we’ve ever seen.
Her dress is made for her lush curves. Pale-rosé silk, cut to bare her hips and belly, hugs every perfect line of her body. Part of her rainbow mane is caught back with crystal clasps, the rest cascading down to her waist.
While Faye and I opted for slippers, ignoring Blair’s rant about style being more important than comfort—I argue that a broken ankle ruins the style—Shay and she are wearing neck-breaking, high, glittering stilettos.
“You do look like a true queen,” Aris says, and I swat him off when I feel tears pricking at my eyes at the unadorned pride in his voice.
“Let’s go. I can’t wait to see a certain blond fae and have him worship me after he’s danced those heels to the ground with me.” Shay winks at me.
“Oh, that’s the spirit,” Blair whoops, heading for the door, swishing her hips before linking her arm with mine and dragging me down the corridor.
I almost don’t recognize the place. The whole campus has transformed into a glorious, festive palace.
On every wall, torches burn with silvery flames.
Incense and perfume fill the hallways. Red and gold carpets, embroidered with two dragons dancing around each other, cover the floors.
More silvery fires burn in large bowls when we reach the stairwell.
Soldiers dressed in shining armor flank the ballroom, and everywhere, students and professors glitter in elaborate, fairytale dresses—each more beautiful than the other.
We join the stream of students pouring outside, and I gasp when I find the sky alight with a deep-blue, full moon. All around, colorful lights are flickering in the sky like fireworks. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s magic coming from the students.
In front of us, people sit by the giant lake, its surface still like a polished mirror, and they let their magic dance over it.
“Oh my gods, they do that every year. Come!” Shay ushers us on past the ever-blossoming tree, where ornate silver lanterns dangle from its branches.
We push through a crowd of sparkling, elaborate gowns.
I watch a group of water elementals conjure the most magnificent creatures out of water, all working together to create two giant bears fighting in the air before they fall apart with a tiny wave.
Everyone laughs and applauds, then draws back from the shore with an excited scream when the wave threatens to lap over their gowns and suits and fine shoes.
Fireballs erupt into the sky, exploding into a flock of birds over us like a bonfire.
Wind wielders and fire elementals guide them on and on in a swirling storm, and we all watch the group of students standing on the right side of the shore with their arms raised, their brows creased in concentration while they work together to guide their magic into a tornado of flames and water.
I spot Cassius and Ryder joining in, their magic feeding the spectacle above the lake’s center.
More water wielders follow, and suddenly the lake bends.
Figures rise again—deer, bears, even a unicorn—before an icy wind sweeps in and freezes them solid.
Snow drifts down, and students cheer and laugh, reaching for the flakes as they keepsugaring the frosty creations with snow.
Finally, the water’s surface freezes, too, hard enough to step on, and everyone walks on the ice, admiring the sculptures, while a colorful tornado forms over our heads, shedding warmth and light.
I stare, wide-eyed, at the magnificent display of magic, then Blair elbows me in the side—harder than anyone else because she’s Blair—and I wince.
“Come on, silver elf. Time to add some sparkles,” she whispers into my ear, pulling me down next to her into a crouch. Then she takes my hand, pressing my palm flat to the ice with a mischievous grin. “Now let it flow. Let it dance along the ice. Trust me.”
With a final breath, I do. I gently tug on my silver magic, surprised to find it joyous and ready inside me, erupting out of my fingers and all too willingly flowing into the ice.
I don’t even have to guide the magic much, because it seems to know exactly what Blair and I have in mind.
It slowly flickers underneath the ice, making the ground shine from below.
Students slowly start to notice and look down between their feet, pointing and smiling when my light slowly wanders up the figurines’ shapes, making them all glow silvery and fantastical.
I know that I’m grinning like a madwoman as it flows and flows out of me, the whole frozen lake dipped in beautiful, silvery light. But spending my magic on something like this is just so much fun. And it’s so beautiful too.
I feel a tug in my stomach and instinctively find Caryan in the crowd, clad in a dark tunic with a hood over his head, his face dipped in shadow, as if he wants to stay hidden. But his eyes gleam red, even in the darkness, resting on me and my magic.
We stare at each other for a long moment, and I wish I could read his face. Wish I could see what he’s thinking right now.
More heads turn our way, awe lighting their faces, smiles blooming everywhere.
Then all turn their heads upward when the tornado above grows larger and larger, finally erupting.
Two fiery phoenixes are born out of it, circling over our heads and shedding their light and heat while my light still glows from below.
Behind Caryan, I spot Riven, and my heart squeezes as I stare at the two men my heart is strangely bound to.
Suddenly, five giant pegasi with horns join the phoenixes, burning with bright lilac magic.
I know it’s Riven’s magic, although he stands still, watching me, hands casually in his pockets, looking at me from across the frozen lake.
Students cheer and watch the magical creations in awe, but I just keep watching Riven.
A gentle smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as if he joined the spectacle for me.
I smile back at him. When I glance back at the crowd, searching it, Caryan is gone.
And even though Riven’s still standing there, my heart sinks a little.
Why? Because I wished Caryan would have stayed too to watch this with me?
Well, yes. And no matter how much I chastise myself for it, I can’t help it. It just happens.
I startle when someone suddenly steps behind me, resting his large hands on my shoulders.
No, not someone . My heart involuntarily jumps in my chest only to beat harder against my ribcage, and my magic, as if overjoyed to feel him and his magic, erupts, as always amplified by his touch.