Chapter 9 Under the Maddening Moon #2
A clear night, full of starlight, waited for her outside the tower window. It occurred to her that, on a night such as this, the dahlias would be blooming in the Zodiac Gardens.
She sucked in a quick breath.
If she went now, she would be able to find her birthflower.
She felt a sudden yearning to go.
Why not?
It was impossible to appease Marcella. Celise would gain nothing by remaining in the tower. It was too late for her to feign obedience to Marcella's demands.
Celise only hesitated for a moment more, as a shadow of fear flitted through her thoughts.
What if she left the tower, and Marcella or Katrina came to check on her?
Then she shook her head. No. Her family wouldn’t spare a second thought for her well-being, not tonight.
No one would bring her food or drink, not while Marcella was punishing her.
She would never get another chance like this one.
Perhaps it was time to change her fate.
At last, she rose.
Celise opened the window, wincing at the creak of old hinges, and looked down.
The curtain wall stretched below, a spine of sandstone blocks that followed the border of the Gravenmere estate.
The wind kissed her cheek as she climbed onto the windowsill in her bare feet, her toes gripping at the wooden frame.
Dressed only in a cotton shift that fell to her ankles, Celise stepped out onto the shingled roof, clutching the window frame for balance.
Then she gently navigated the ten or twelve feet down to the lip of the roof.
The curtain wall was a step down from there.
She lightly hopped from the shingled roof onto the stone walkway.
Feeling both daring and defiant, Celise walked along the top of the curtain wall, headed away from the tower.
Her eyes scanned the grounds of Gravenmere Castle.
She could see for quite a ways under the light of the twin moons.
Like a miracle, she saw the distant glowing statue of Valestra barely visible within a grove of black maple trees.
The Zodiac Gardens.
A tall trellis, covered in climbing clematis, was attached to the side of the tower. Celise studied it cautiously. The trellis was very tall, and the ground was far below her, almost a thirty-foot drop if she lost her grip.
Was she really going to . . . ?
Yes.
Wearing nothing but a cotton shift, she took hold of the trellis and began climbing downward, crushing purple clematis blooms as she went. She apologized under her breath to the sad flowers. “Sorry . . . sorry! Sorry . . . .”
She hopped the last few feet to the ground.
Her eyes traveled to the Moongazer Tower’s front door, but it was firmly closed, and the hour was so late, she didn’t see a single glowing candle in any of the windows.
If her father were awake, then he would be deep in his cups. Marcella had likely gone to bed.
Was she really going to do this?
A bit of fear mingled with excitement made her heart quicken.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Remembering the view from the top of the curtain wall, she mapped a route across the grounds toward the statue of Valestra.
Feeling only the slightest sense of uncertainty, she started following the flagstone path toward the Zodiac Gardens.
Celise’s feet were toughened from a life spent outdoors on the ranch.
She barely felt the flagstone walkway as she crossed the grounds.
Above her, the stars seemed to flow from horizon to horizon in two big rivers of light, illuminating the sky as though it were day.
Forsynthian astronomers said their planet, Nilos, was located in the Twin Rings galaxy, which had two bands of stars, as she understood it.
She didn’t know where she had learned such things.
She thought the horsemaster, Mr. Talisworth, might have told her.
The twin rivers above her seemed endless—the stars unfettered and free.
It was hard to imagine how many worlds might exist out there beyond her own.
As she made her way across the shadowy grounds, she felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders.
Beneath the stars, she felt no judgment.
She wasn’t a servant or a lady. Here, she could be herself.
Just Celise.
The residue of skydust glowed above the Grapevine Mountains, sparkling like a distant aurora.
The mysterious dust still permeated the atmosphere from the meteor’s impact long ago.
She rarely pondered its glittering residue in the sky.
All of Forsynthia worked under it, breathed it, ate it, drank it.
Skydust was just another part of life on Nilos. But it held many secrets.
She thought of the conversation she had overheard between the Mad Dog duke, Old Blackwood and the Bratzian diplomat.
The mystery of Elias Blackwood stayed on her mind.
With a slight shiver, she recalled his low, raspy voice. She saw the cut of his broad shoulders and his long black coat. His proud jaw. The wave of his dark hair and his glinting silver eye.
She felt a strange flutter in her stomach.
She was the only lady at the gala who had come so close to seeing the duke’s face. He had touched her arm—not romantically at all—yet the power of his presence remained with her.
For a moment, she tried to imagine the mind of such a man: a war hero with enough power to defeat the Daemon King, now forced to entertain a flock of frivolous courtiers and power-hungry diplomats at a birthday party.
She couldn’t begin to fathom his world.
She really shouldn’t try.
She shouldn’t attempt to empathize with someone so vastly different from herself .
. . someone she would never know in person.
Lord Elias Blackwood wasn’t a victim in his life.
He was the Hero of the Realm. Whether celebrated or abhorred, he was untouchable.
He wasn’t anything like herself: vulnerable, unwanted, and totally useless.
Eventually, Celise found the gates to the Zodiac Gardens.
The entrance was marked by an iron archway; she remembered it from that morning, when the attendant had passed out tickets with their seat numbers.
The gates stood wide open. They were not locked, which she hadn’t considered until that moment.
Beyond the gates, the garden looked deserted.
Little pale lights illuminated the winding pathways through the garden beds.
Clusters of glowbells shimmered between the roots of the maple trees.
Baskets of glowstones hung periodically along the walkways, pale blue light emanating from their cores like hot coals.
Each zodiac statue was illuminated by its own lantern.
It seemed that even at night, the gardens were prepared to receive visitors.
She would have to be cautious not to encounter a guard.
Surely, Old Blackwood employed someone to patrol the grounds at night?
Celise wandered about the gardens, trying to remember which section belonged to which season.
She couldn’t read the signs along the path very well.
They were written in Forsynthian high script, a special lettering learned by the nobility, very different from the simple letters Mordwen had taught her on the ranch.
She picked out a word here and there, but for the most part, it all looked like wavy loops and squiggles.
Her ears strained for any sound of footsteps, but she heard and saw no one.
She passed under the trellis of lumenblooms, now closed and dark with no mana-channelers nearby.
Then she found the bed of Ashfeather Bloom.
Deeper in the garden, she discovered the Gilded Lupin: giant stalks of coned flowers towering almost six feet tall.
Then she passed by the iridescent Solaris Lily, its petals as shiny as peacock feathers. It was a symbol of grace and balance.
Finally, she found the constellation of The Star placed far back behind the statue of Valestra, which governed her birth month of Stargrave. She found the section of the garden reserved for Brumadir, the cold, dark end of the year.
The Starlight Dahlia should be close by. Why couldn’t she seem to find it?
Celise was beginning to grow impatient. She stepped off the path and began exploring the different garden beds, crushing moss and wet mulch under her bare feet.
She bent almost double to inspect each flower.
Coming to the gardens in secret had taken every last scrap of courage she possessed.
It was a quiet rebellion against Marcella—perhaps the first of many.
It marked a new era in the life of Celise.
And she couldn’t even find her birthflower!
Useless, she thought. This night is an utter failure.
Perhaps it was a sign. Perhaps she would never be able to change her fate.
A wave of utter despair arose with that thought.
Don’t be silly. It has to be here somewhere, she told herself. She straightened up. Suddenly, her eyes landed on the trunk of a black maple tree that she remembered. Beyond that maple tree, hidden by deep shadows, was a towering camellia bush.
She saw a glimmer of iron bars.
The secret gate.
She bit her bottom lip as she pondered its existence. The land beyond that gate was out of bounds. The sign over it read, “No Trespassing.”
Why? Where did it lead?
Perhaps the Starlight Dahlia was hidden beyond that old stone wall.
Dare she go that far?
Her foot slid toward the locked gate on its own volition. Curiosity warred with instinctive caution. Perhaps with a bit of leverage, she could climb the gate.
Bang! Bing-ing-ing!
Celise jumped. Interrupting her desperate thoughts and perhaps saving her from making a horrific mistake, the sound of a metal object clattering on the flagstone drew her attention.
“Crow’s rot!” A muffled voice cursed.
With a gasp, Celise threw herself behind the statue of The Star. She trampled a bed of violets and glowbells and ducked behind the white marble icon. Her heart raced in her chest, threatening to choke her.