The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 50

It was time. Everything was set up, the stars were coming out in the hazy blue trail of the sunset, and the moon was rising, a lavender sickle cresting the horizon. Nyle was helping Lillian seal the last of the jars of new salve when Lynn's head popped through the doorway. She grinned and gave him a thumbs-up while Lillian was crouched in front of the stove, stoking the dying coals so they'd burn out faster. Nyle returned the gesture with one hand as he slid another lidded jar across the table to join the rest, and Lynn disappeared.

"Hey, Lil?"

"Hmm?" she replied absently, still stoking the coals.

Nyle crouched beside her and took her hand in his, poker and all, loosening her fingers gently. Her hair tickled his nose as he leaned close to whisper in her ear, "I have a surprise for you."

A confused little smile twitched at the corners of her lips, and she shot him a sideways look laced with inquiry. It took everything in him to keep his distance as her eyes danced in the waning glow of the coals, bright in the darkening haze of the kitchen. "What kind of surprise?"

"Just something," Nyle replied absently, pulling the poker from her fingers and prodding the coals.

"What kind of something?"

"If I told you it'd defeat the purpose," said Nyle, flicking her hand away when she tried to reclaim the poker. Standing, he pushed the door of the stove closed with his boot. "C'mon. This'll burn itself out soon enough." Looking her up and down, from her mussed clothing to the way her hair was down and ruffled in a pretty sort of way, he smiled. "You're going to need to change your clothes."

***

Lillian didn't know where Nyle was taking her, or why he'd insisted she wear a dress. Or why Lynn kept grinning behind her hand as she picked out a gown.

"No, not that one." Pulling the dress Lillian had taken from its hook out of her hands, Lynn hung it back up on the pole and shook her head. "You have awful taste in dresses, hon. Let me pick."

"All right," Lillian agreed with a sheepish smile, twisting the hem of her shirt to quell the excitement flowering in her chest. Taking a few steps backward, she sank into the wicker chair that sat in the corner of the wide room, facing the doorway where Nyle leaned, watching her with that strange little smile making his mouth twitch. Lillian stuck her tongue out at him, and he returned the gesture in a heartbeat. She shook her head and tittered. "You're weird."

"You're weirder."

"Ah, here's the one," Lynn said satisfactorily, pulling a gown out in a fan of brown and green fabric. When she held it in the light, Lillian's breath caught.

The ankle-length skirt started rich black-brown, sprouting with green like new ferns in the spring, streaked with pine-colored whorls like leaves, fading darker along the bodice and ending with deepest blue and minuscule, embroidered four-point stars over the neckline and the sleeves that shimmered when the fabric shifted. It was a landscape on cloth, from the earth to the sky, beautiful and captivating. It didn't even look like it should be worn; rather put in museum or an exhibit of art to be admired for a hundred years.

"Try it on," Nyle said as she pushed herself out of the chair and took the short, frilled sleeve between her fingers. The fabric was smooth and strong, so finely woven she could neither see nor feel the threads.

Lynn shut the door, and Lillian stripped to her underthings and slipped into the dress, pulling her hair over her shoulder so Lynn could lace up the back. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room, caught the shimmer of the shades of green, a memory flashed. Dancing in the great hall of the castle in Etniria, teaching Chad the steps to a waltz. The last time she'd worn a dress had been that night, the night Nyle had been taken from his rooms and beaten like a dog in the dungeons.