The Deepest Night

Chapter 9

Three lives shine below me. Of the nearly two billion mortal souls churning and sowing and reaping atop the curve of the planet below, most are muddy, lost to me. Only three shine up this far and high, tenuous as candle flames, bright as stars … which is funny, if you think about it.

I do. Think about it, that is.

I can’t deny that I’m lonely without her. I can’t deny, even a little bit, that I wish we were still together, me there below or her up high here, at my side. I never knew that mortal love could be so binding. That having her blocked from me would be so painful.

I try whispering to her, but she doesn’t hear. I try shouting, but that doesn’t work, either. Her dreams remain closed to me, and I don’t know why.

The other two dragons in my care, males who haven’t even mastered the Turn yet, who’ve come nowhere near her glory or power—they hear me. Even their sire does.

Lora doesn’t.

It breaks my heart. It would, I mean, had I a heart still.

But I’m not going to stop singing to her. I can’t. It would be like ceasing to be myself, or plain ceasing to be.

I tell myself that someday she’ll hear.

Gods grant me this prayer, this one hope beyond our celestial realm: Lora-of-the-moon, stop looking down. Lift your eyes skyward. Turn your ears to me. With all the magic I can summon, I command you to hear this serenade. Feel my love, falling rose petals, white-hot tears, comet-tail sparks. All for you.

I miss you, too.