The air is heavy; it’s like a scrapbook that’s been left in the rain or a wound torn open. But not everything here is lifeless. I spot a large, tufted couch with a black fur blanket in the corner, lush and cozy with pillows haphazardly arranged on the cushions. At least, that’s what it looks like until it starts tomove. A head reveals itself from the mess of fur, and two large beady eyes set their sights on Moth.
“Sprout?”
If you took the floof of a Pomeranian and scaled it up to the size of a Great Dane—and gave it two antennae on the top of its head—that wouldbe Sprout.
He bounds up to Moth with thundering paws. Moth allows himself to be knocked over by the fluffy beast. It reminds me of those viral videos where soldiers return from war. After decades of sulking around this library, Sprout’s person is finally here.
Queen Plume places a hand on my shoulder. When I look up, her eyes are dewy and bright. If she had any doubt in her mind that Moth was really her long-lost son, this moment has shown her everything she needed to see. People can deceive other people—but dogs? They always knowwhat’s up.
“Most of your time in this castle was spent in this room,” Queen Plume murmurs softly “Do you recall it?”
The toothy grin on Moth’s face wavers at the question. “I am sorry,” he breathes, ruffling his large hands through Sprout’s mountain of fur. Sprout’s paws tap happily on the stone floors as the fluffy beast rolls from his back to his belly. There’s a patch of white on his left paw and a light dusting of gray fur under his chin. Decades this cute giant furball has been waiting for Moth to return, and the urge to capture it all on video makes my palms itch to grab the phone from my pocket. But with a mood this heavy,I resist.
Not every moment is meant to be captured after all.
“It was underhanded enough to push you through a portal. Wiping your memory is downright cruel.” Holly shifts, and the gentle rays of sunlight cast a beam of light off her silver chest plate and right into my eyes.
“Okay so…” I blink white spots from my vision before glancing at Moth. He is adorably distracted by the giant dog-like creature, and I assume he won’t mind me taking over this conversation, so I ease myself into an nearby chair. Holly breaths out a deep sigh before both she and the queen sit opposite of me.
Right… Probably should have let the royalty sit first.
“What exactly happened?” I ask, cringing at the way I’m probably breaking every social expectation bydoing so.
“Your father, the old king, passed away.” Queen Plume addresses Moth rather than me. “I was not in a place to lead, Holly was far too young, and you were nextin line.”
“We had an uncle—Atlas. He wanted the throne.” Holly picks up the story, fiddling with the hilt of the sword strapped toher belt.
“I must assume he faked your demise.” Queen Plume spits out the words bitterly. “And I believed I buried my son and husband just weeks apart.”
Holly pats her mother’s knee in reassurance, but there are daggers in her sharp blue eyes. There’s some part of this story she’s not willing totell yet.
“Uncle Atlas took the mantle,” Holly says through gritted teeth, “after father died and you disappeared. He ruled until only a few years ago.”
“After all of the work he did to take the throne…” Queen Plume gulps shaking her head. “He… he fell in love. It was someone who worked in the castle. They ran off in the night, and I took the mantle once again.”
Huh. That’s a twist on the classic evil uncle trope that I didn’t expect. While I’m glad it landed Moth in my life, I feel sorry for the two of them.
“First off, that’s horrible, and I am so sorry,” I say, unsure who to address. They’ve both carried an unfair amount of grief all this time. “But this all started decades ago, right? How did you findMoth now?”
“I never stopped looking,” Holly says, staring at Moth like he’s some kind of superhero. “I knew you were still out there—somewhere.”
How?
I want to ask, but I can’t bring myself to be so bold, especially not when there are other things I’m curious about.
“Wait, wait, wait. If Moth is supposed to be dead, isn’t it going to be weird if he’s just kind of walking around the castle?”
“You will find the people of Eclipsica are nothing if not dramatic.” Holly scoffs. “It will take more than a faked death to rattle the people here.”
Queen Plume stands suddenly, and the three of us jump to rise with the queen.
“May we speak for just a moment?” She holds out her hand to Moth. After a long pause, he stands, clasping his clawed hand in hers. As stiff as a board, Moth follows the queen out to a small balcony. Despite how torn apart it is now, this must have been a beautiful room to have growing up.
I stretch my back, feeling the pressure of my wings aching to stretch wide across the room. It’s large enough, but I don’t want to knock over anything, so I wear the tension like a second skin. It’s a trick I’ve been learning to master when I’m trying to be careful at home. I’ve broken more teacups than I can count, and I’m sure the items in this place cost more than I couldever pay.
“So, you opened the portal, right? Why send a letter and not just come yourself?”
Holly narrows her dark eyes. “Ah, well, with a letter I was able to be vague on the off-chance I missed my target.” Holly fiddles with the hilt of her sword again, a child holding tight to their favorite stuffed animal while putting on a brave face.
