The Dark of the Moon

by E. S. Bell

“I had to get you dry. It was the only way,” he said quickly.

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled at him, softly, warmly. She was sitting on his bunk wearing only a scrap of cloth…

  Sebastian retreated behind his desk. “Stop saying that,” he snapped. He jammed his sketches into the portfolio and shoved it into the desk drawer.

  “Saying what?” Selena asked, taken aback by his sudden anger.

  “Thank you.” He slammed the drawer shut. “Stop thanking me all the bloody time. You saved my ship. I blew some air into your lungs. We’re bloody even.”

  “Are we?” she said hoarsely, rising. The ship swayed beneath her but she found her balance quickly. “Are we even?”

  No, now I owe Svoz a life too, Sebastian thought. “Aren’t we?”

  She shook her head, flustered. “No, I mean…is that all there is? As though we… as if there were nothing but debts to be paid or repaid?”

  “That’s all there is. That’s all life is.” He counted off on his fingers: “Take what you can get, always watch your back, and repay what’s owed so you don’t fear the knife in the night.” He made a cutting motion with his hand. “That’s it.”

  “Very well. If that’s how you look at things. I’m surprised you had the presence of mind to help me at all today, given the way you sometimes look at me.”

  Sebastian stared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Sometimes I feel like you don’t care should I live or die, and other times I feel as though you hate me,” she said, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. “And sometimes, you are very kind. As on Nanokar…” She shook her head, looking away.

  The silence that hung between them was thick and heavy. It seemed to Sebastian, the only sound was the thundering of his pulse in his head.

  She could relieve that pain, he thought and the image of her standing close, close enough that he could smell the salt of her skin, feel the soft of her hands touching him, the warm sunrise glow of her healing engulfing him until there was no pain…

  No pain.

  There was always pain. The expression on Mina’s face—the last she would ever wear—was one of agony, emblazoned on his soul forever. The screams of his own victims echoed in the endless cavern of his memory.

  I don’t deserve her healing.

  He fought for the edge again, and watched Selena as if from a great distance.

  “You hired me to sail you to Isle Saliz,” he said in a dead voice. “That is the only matter of concern between us. There is nothing else.”

  Her face paled slightly and then she drew herself up and the small woman was gone. She was imperious and the immense power she wielded suddenly seemed very close to the surface. The warmth in her eyes when she looked at him vanished and her voice was as cold as the northern seas.

  “Of course. You are correct. My clothes are in the galley?”

  “Should be.”

  “I’ll return your blanket after I’ve changed.”

  “If you please.”

  She went to the door. There she paused, and for a moment he thought she would speak, but then she was gone, closing the door—not gently—behind her.

  Sebastian slumped in his chair, drained. The lantern above his desk swayed with the gentle rocking of his ship. He remained on the edge, not trusting himself otherwise, but his stomach interrupted his nothingness with a growl. The ship was quiet with exhausted crew. He thought it safe to find something to eat in the galley. He threw open the door and nearly tripped on his blanket, folded neatly outside. He retrieved it and retreated back into his cabin, thoughts of food forgotten.

  Before he could stop himself, he pressed the linen to his nose. It smelled of seawater, faintly, and beneath that, Selena’s scent, warm and clean, and just as strong as when he’d been pressed to her, warming her with his own body.

  Sebastian hurled the blanket onto the floor and returned to his desk, to the lantern. He watched its back and forth—light and shadow, light and shadow—until he stood up and blew it out.

  The Paladin

  Connor awoke in his bed in his little cell in the Moon Temple, at first unable to recall how he got there. Then he remembered the fish. So many fish. They’d swarmed around his boots in the shallows, and Connor had thought that if the episode hadn’t come on, something larger would have heeded his silent call. A dolphin perhaps. Or maybe even a whale. But another episode wracked him. That made two in as many weeks. They didn’t scare him. Not even the one weeks ago where lightning danced over him…

  Taliah was a new addition to the duo of worried faces surrounding him as he woke. His father, Celestine, and now the crimson-skinned Juskaran woman hovered over him. She had always intimidated Connor; she was ferocious in her devotion to the Two-Faced God and intolerant of nearly everything else. But he liked her because her faith that the god would Hear him someday had been unflagging, and he had trusted that she was right. Behind them, Kyre stood like a sentry, reminding him that things were different now and the Taliah had been wrong. Very wrong.

  Connor had hardly been awake more than a handful of moments, but he had come out of his sleep with a surety at the forefront of his mind. A destiny revealed to him in a dreamlike vision. He could hardly contain his excitement but knew he must if he were to fool his father and Celestine.

  He blinked his eyes rapidly. “Another episode?”

  They all nodded, each wearing that pitying smile he hated so much. But he kept his irritation concealed and instead smiled back.

  “I called fish this time. Did you see it? I don’t know how I knew to do it, but I saw one swimming in the shallows and I just had this idea. Like with the birds a week ago…” He shook his head with remembered awe. “There must have been hundreds of them.”

  Their faces, in unison, fell into furrowed consternation and unease. That irritated him too. Only Kyre stood expressionless, waiting.

  “I think you should rest now,” Celestine said. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  That’s what she said after the birds. Connor feigned a pained expression. The headache that usually greeting him upon awaking from an episode was absent. “As you say, Your Reverence.”

  Celestine and Taliah slipped out of the room, both watching him warily yet concerned, as though he were some kind of rare exotic animal that needed tending. His father stayed behind.

  “Kyre, may I have a moment with my son, please? Alone?”

  Connor nodded at the dragonman.

  “I’ll be right outside the door,” the Vai’Ensai said.

  When he was gone, Archer Crane sat beside Connor’s bed. “He’s a vigilant one, isn’t he?”

  “He’s my best friend,” Connor replied. He heard the challenging tone in his voice and inwardly vowed not to get into an argument with his father. Not when this will be the last time we see each other for a while.

  “I wanted to talk to you about what’s been happening,” his father said. “I’m sure you must have questions and I don’t want you to worry.”

  “I’m not worried,” Connor said. “I think I understand why the Two-Faced God can’t Hear me.”

  His father looked as though he were mentally bracing himself. “Why is that?”

  “Because this magic I have—calling storms and animals—that’s from somewhere else. A different god. Isn’t it?”

  “Well, we’re not entirely sure,” Archer said.

  “But you and Celestine and Taliah…You’ve been working it out. Haven’t you?”

  His father smiled tightly. “The important thing is that you don’t upset yourself over it and suffer more episodes. You haven’t had two this close together in a long while.”

  “I feel fine. And didn’t you just say that you’re here to answer my questions?” Despite his avowals, that old familiar irritation at his father for treating him like a sickly little child was there, always there, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

  “What does Celestine think? I know you spoke to Taliah after the birds. I
t’s a different god’s magic, isn’t it? From mother’s islands?”

  He could see that blow strike home and now his father was trying to remain collected. “Paladin Taliah seems to think so, yes,” he said, practically through clenched teeth.

  “Why do you sound so unhappy about it? I thought you loved her. My mother, I mean.”

  “I did,” Archer said. “It’s not about her, it’s about you. I want you to—”

  “Be safe.” Connor sighed, an uncommon sadness coming over him. The cell was dim, moonlit and nothing more. Shadows filled in the lines of his father’s face and his eyes, aging him. I don’t want to cause him more pain, but it’s my time. Mine.

  “Father, I feel like I’ve been set free. For years—my whole life—I’ve been trying to become a Paladin and for years I’ve been shunned. But that struggle is over now. I have been shown a different path and I want to walk it.”

  “I understand,” Archer said in a tone that told Connor he didn’t at all. “But this new magic is foreign and strange and we don’t know much about it. I think we should proceed slowly. Cautiously.”

  “What is the name of the god?”

  “Wor’ri,” Archer said, maneuvering his mouth over the name awkwardly.

  “Wor’ri,” Connor repeated. He expected to feel some sort of instant communion or recognition. He felt nothing. “From what island? Did you remember it?”

  “No,” his father said and Connor knew that was a lie.

  “Oh.” He forced a smile that he hoped appeared genuine. “But maybe tomorrow, we’ll figure it out. Like you said.”

  “Yes, tomorrow. Taliah will tell you what she knows and we can go from there. Until then, try to get some rest and don’t…”

  “Don’t what?”

  Archer smiled ruefully and tousled his son’s hair. “Goodnight, Connor.”

  Connor watched him go and before his father could close the door all the way, Kyre returned to take up his post.

  “Celestine and my father, they’re good people,” he told the Vai’Ensai, “but they worry too much. They treat me like I’m a child.”

  “You are not a child’s age.”

  “That’s right. I’m seventeen but they say I’m a young seventeen.”

  Kyre frowned. “Does time pass differently for certain humans?”

  “It means they think I’m yet more a boy than a man. That used to bother me but now I know what I must do.”

  Kyre waited.

  “Have you heard of Selena Koren?”

  “I have not.”

  “She’s probably the greatest Paladin the Two-Faced God has ever seen, except for Skye. But not even Skye can move the tides. Selena Koren can. She can make the oceans do her bidding.”

  “And you can call wind and rain,” Kyre remarked.

  Connor wanted to leap out of his skin, though he managed to keep his voice hushed.

  “Yes, exactly!” He sat up and motioned for Kyre to come closer. “I never dream when I have an episode. There’s only blackness and forgetting. I didn’t tell my father. Or Celestine, but these last two episodes? With the birds and the fish? Both times, I did dream. I had a vision. The same vision. And it was Selena Koren, in the Moon Temple, and by her side was a Vai’Ensai. Ilior, his name was.”

  “The stone and the fire must have sent him to her.”

  “Yes! Just like they sent you to me. We have to find her. We have to join her. My father, Celestine, and the Justarchs sent her on some dangerous quest to kill a Bazira. I heard about the whole thing through Gregor. Maybe we can help her. I don’t know where she is now but I know where she started.”

  Kyre cocked his head to the side.

  “Isle Uago. That’s where Paladin Koren was last known to be and if anyone can help me understand my magic, it’s her. She and I, we’re the same,” he said. His heart beat faster with every word. “Her god marked her with her wound. My god marked me…with my episodes. Yes! Do you see? I’m a paladin too. Only not for this god. But I’m a paladin too. I am,” he whispered, almost to himself.

  “With the dawn, then?”

  Connor threw off the bed sheets. “No, tonight. We leave tonight. We’ll be too closely watched tomorrow, and you’re not exactly inconspicuous, my friend.”

  “Your father and the woman will worry,” Kyre observed. “The red-skinned woman will be angry.”

  “If I tell them, they won’t let me go. Father will shut down the ports if he has to and Celestine will keep me under guard. Not officially a prisoner, but close enough. No, we have to leave now. I have coin enough to buy passage.”

  Connor began throwing belongings in his rucksack and strapped his sword to his waist, talking as he did.

  “They’ll think we left to find my mother’s islands. To find out more about Wor’ri.” He stopped packing. “It’s funny. I don’t feel anything when I say that name. Only excited that I know who I belong to, if that makes sense. And that I’m a paladin after all.” He savored the notion for another moment and then resumed packing.

  Kyre said nothing.

  “Anyway, going to the islands where Wor’ri is worshipped is the logical step but I don’t want to go there. Not yet. Something big is happening and Selena Koren is part of it. And so am I.” He stuffed a fine pair of trousers into his bag. “But I spoke about Wor’ri with father just now so the seed is planted. I feel bad, though. It’s dangerous, where we’re going. At least, they’ll see it that way.” He stopped what he was doing and glanced up at Kyre. “Are you going to stop me?”

  Kyre snorted. “Of course not. I walk with you, I protect you, I die for you.” He flexed his wings. “I am ready.”

  “Walk with me and protect me, but don’t die, Kyre.” He laid his hand on the Vai’Ensai’s arm for a moment, and then shouldered his bag. “Come on. Isle Uago awaits. Have you been to Uago, Kyre?”

  “No. What makes it dangerous?”

  Connor’s grin widened. “Pirates.”

  Celestine wasn’t surprised when Sera woke her with the news that Connor Crane and his dragonman had left sometime in the night, evading the Temple guards, and sneaking out without anyone so much as seeing a shadow. The High Reverent closed her eyes briefly, thinking of Archer.

  He’s already lost so much…

  She thanked Sera and rose to dress, mentally preparing for her friend’s anger at her for not posting guards at Connor’s door. She had been sure that Connor would leave, but never thought it would be so soon.

  “Shall I send a bird to Admiral Crane?” Sera asked when Celestine emerged from her chambers.

  The High Reverent belted her sapphire-encrusted sword to her waist as they walked. “No. Get me the sloop. I’ll tell him myself.”

  Sailors were called to her small sailboat and Paladin Lanik Thrakill waited for her at the docks to take her over as guard and escort. Before the war, a retinue of Paladins would accompany the High Reverent anywhere. Now there was only one, though that it was Lanik made her smile. He was a devout Paladin, and, if she were being honest, a handsome one at that. His eyes were much warmer than their icy blue color hinted.

  The journey across the channel was short but it seemed as if the narrow strip of greenish water—sluggish with the waste and refuse of Lillomet City—floating in its depths, had grown even more narrow that morning. The voyage was unsettlingly short. The Citadel loomed ahead, squat and square and reminding her of Stoneyard Prison on Isle Parish. Despite the last remnants of summer heat lingering in the air, Celestine shivered.

  “Are you well, Your Reverence?” Lanik asked, his face drawn with worry.

  “I’m fine,” she said, reprimanding herself. It didn’t befit a High Reverent to wear her anxiety so close to the surface. Even so, Lanik’s troubled expression prompted her to add, “My task is not pleasant. Connor Crane left the island last night with his Vai’Ensai.”

  “I had heard,” Lanik said, and frowned. “And while the Admiral must be understandably upset, he cannot blame you for the actions of a rash young man.
”

  Lanik’s words and the fierce emotion behind them made her smile, but the tight coil of nerves in her stomach remained. He doesn’t know Archer like I do.

  As predicted, Archer’s face hardened at the news and his dark eyes bored into Celestine’s as she spoke.

  “When?”

  “Last night.”

  “What hour?” Archer was leaning over his desk, palms splayed out, regarding her with a flinty expression she thought he must reserve for sailors who’ve disobeyed orders or who were guilty of misconduct.

  “We don’t know,” Celestine faltered. You’re the High Reverent, not a child facing an angry parent. She stood up straight and met his eye. “Early. He was absent at morning meditations which happen at dawn. I came personally to tell you—”

  “Deke!” He shouted to the door without taking his eyes from hers. The door opened and the red-haired young man posted outside entered.

  “Sir?”

  “Assemble my officers, smartly now.”

  The man saluted and slipped out again. There was a silence and Celestine felt her face grow hot.

  “You may stop staring at me like that,” she snapped. “I’m no deckhand or bosun to be reprimanded.”

  “Correct,” Archer said slowly. “A bosun is in charge of keeping track of the men and making sure they’re all accounted for. Clearly, you are no bosun.”

  Celestine sighed. “Archer, I know you’re upset but—”

  “You’re damned right I’m upset!” he thundered. “I told you we needed to watch him after you told me that he was going to try to leave!”

  “The Moon Temple is not a prison!” Celestine shot back. “He is a man grown. And he didn’t rob our coffers for the coin for passage. If you were concerned about him leaving, you shouldn’t have provided him the means to do so!”

  “How was I to know he’d leave so soon?”

  Celestine raised a brow.

  Archer slumped into his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Carping at each other and laying blame isn’t going to bring him back. Where are my bloody officers?”

  “I’m sorry, Archer,” Celestine said. “I truly am. I should have been more attentive. But even if I had caught him as he snuck out the door, I couldn’t have stopped him.”