Dassa Moonwhisper's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

Three days. Dassa had her song. She did not have her look. She caught her reflection in a shop window and saw the truth. Patched skirt. Ale stains on the sleeves. Boots cracked at the toe. She sang for coins in a tavern, and she dressed like it. If she walked into the high court like this, the courtiers would judge her before she touched a string. Cornelius had warned her some already feared her magic. She would not hand them a reason to laugh, too. She counted her tavern earnings in her palm. Not much. Enough, maybe, for one good dress. She had heard of only one shop that sewed for royals. The seamstress's shop stole her breath. Rich fabrics draped every wall. Gold lanterns hung from carved beams. Bolts of silk stacked shoulder-high on an ornate table, threaded with scissors and colored spools. Dassa suddenly felt smaller in her worn clothes. A woman stepped from behind the table. Braided black hair fell over one shoulder. Gold beads caught the lantern light along her flowing dress. She looked Dassa up and down, then smiled like she had found a secret. "You," she said, "are the one who wakes flowers with a song. The whole town talks." She circled Dassa slowly. "I am Asha Tanvi. I sew for kings and their dull daughters. And you are far more interesting than any of them." Dassa opened her hand. Coins glinted. "This is everything I have. I know it isn't enough for your work. But I perform for the high court in three days, and I can't go like this." Asha waved the coins away. "Keep them." She tilted her head. "I'll make you the finest bard the court has ever seen. On one condition." Dassa braced herself. "What condition?" "That we're friends." Asha winked. "I'm surrounded by stiff royals all day. I want someone who makes plants dance." Dassa laughed, and the knot in her chest loosened. "Friends, then." Asha pulled her deeper into the shop. "Now. Colors." She held silks against Dassa's skin. Purple, deep and glowing. Green like new vines. Gold to thread between. "The colors of your flowers," Asha said. "Let them see the magic before you play a note." She worked fast. She pinned and cut and stitched while Dassa turned. By the second day, a gown rose on the dress form near the window. A tight bodice ran with gold swirls. The skirt fell in panels of purple, blue, and green, laced with vines of thread. A pale gem sat at the collar. Dassa slipped it on. She stood taller at once. In the mirror she did not see a barmaid. She saw someone the court could not wave off. "Now they'll let you play," Asha said. Then her smile faded a little. "But letting you play and welcoming your magic are two different things. Some of them are afraid, Dassa. A pretty dress won't change that."