Night of the Shadow Moon

by A. E. Rayne

  Books by A.E. Rayne

  Exclusively on Amazon

  Winter’s Fury (Book 1)

  The Burning Sea (Book 2)

  Night of the Shadow Moon (Book 3)

  Night of the Shadow Moon

  The Furyck Saga: Book 3

  A.E. Rayne

  For Alfie

  Contents

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  Map

  Prologue

  I. The Cave

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  II. The Room

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  III. The Storm

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  IV. The Door

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  V. The River

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  VI. The Plan

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  VII. The Shadow Moon

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Epilogue

  The Characters

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  About the Author

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  Details at the end of the book

  Prologue

  ‘You and I, my friend, we are as one. After all these years, it hurts me to do this to you. But I must, for they do not care about me. They disavow me. Disown me entirely! After all that I have done? For their cause? And yet, they have no need for me. They seek him. Only him.’

  The woman with the black hair reached out her alabaster hand, barely weathered, even after all these years. She ran her fingers over the page, shivering at the familiar sensation of the fine vellum beneath her skin; even older than her and yet, still throbbing with life and power.

  So much power.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, gripped the top of the page and tore it from the book. ‘There will never come a time when they don’t need me!’

  I

  The Cave

  1

  ‘No!’ Jael shook her head and slipped away, trying to hide her smile. The moon was bright, and she knew that he would see her face.

  ‘No?’ Eadmund followed her. ‘Are you sure?’

  The water was warm. There was still snow on the ground, but the water wrapped itself around their chilled bodies, cocooning them in liquid heat.

  ‘Of course I’m sure,’ she insisted, batting him away as he crept towards her.

  ‘Then why are you smiling?’ Eadmund laughed, forcing his way through her half-hearted attempts to stop him, kissing her pursed lips. ‘If it’s no, then why are you smiling?’

  ‘I promise you, if I were pregnant I wouldn’t be smiling!’ Jael grumbled, letting him kiss her.

  ‘No?’

  ‘No! I couldn’t think of anything worse!’

  Eadmund sunk back, his smile vanishing. ‘Really?’

  Jael froze. She didn’t know what to say without making it worse. ‘I...’

  Eadmund reached for her hands, his eyes down on the shimmering water. ‘I understand but...’ He looked up, and his smile came racing back. ‘You’ll change your mind when it happens. I know you will.’

  Jael squirmed away from his gaze, frowning.

  ‘I know you will, Jael Furyck. You love me. I know that too. We’re meant to be, remember? You and me.’

  ‘Jael!’

  Jael turned away into the darkness.

  She blinked, squinting. Shivering suddenly.

  ‘Jaaaeeelll!’

  ‘Grandmother?’

  ‘Meena!’ Berard tripped over a loose cobblestone as he ran after the woman whose red hair was streaming behind her as she scurried away. ‘Meena!’

  Meena sighed impatiently and stopped. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she needed to leave. She had to go before Jaeger found her.

  Before the sun set.

  Berard panted, stumbling to a halt. He had spied Meena from the first-floor balcony of the castle and had run all the way to try and reach her before she left. He looked down at her tiny sack. ‘But where are you going?’ he asked in surprise, trying to catch his breath.

  Meena tapped her head with her free hand, staring at her feet, avoiding those concerned grey-blue eyes. She did not want to stop, did not want to stay. Berard Dragos had always been kind to her, but she would not let that influence her decision. ‘I, I, I am leaving,’ she said resolutely, looking up at last.

  ‘But you cannot!’ Berard insisted.

  ‘My grandmother is d-d-dead,’ Meena sniffed. ‘There is nothing here for me now. There is no one.’ She shuddered, not wanting to think of Morana creeping around that horrible chamber, so gleeful that Varna was gone.

  ‘This is your home, Meena,’ Berard said kindly. ‘You have no one else, do you? No one who will take you in?’

  ‘I have an uncle. He lives on Oss. I will find my way there!’ Meena turned to leave. She had to go. She couldn’t stay.

  Berard reached for her arm. ‘Please, why don’t you come back to the castle, just for tonight? I know it’s been a terrible shock, what happened to Varna, but you cannot run off like this. You won’t survive out there all alone.’

  Meena’s shoulders slumped as she turned around, her chest heaving. ‘You don’t understand. You don’t...’ she sobbed. ‘She let this happen. She’s there. She’ll kill me next!’

  ‘Who?’

  Meena shook her head, clamping her lips together, too scared to utter another word. She looked behind Berard, to the castle which towered above them both, to the tiny window on the very top floor. Shivering, she imagined the cold, dark chamber that she would have to share with her evil aunt if she stayed.

  The woman who had helped murder her grandmother.

  Morana.

  There was no pool. No Eadmund. No moon. Just darkness.

  Heavy and cold.

  Jael crept forward. ‘Grandmother?’ Her heart was thumping like a drum, her breath coming in short bursts. She listened but heard nothing. ‘Grandmother?’

  ‘Jael.’

  It was faint now, so faint that Jael could barely make out which direction the voice was coming from.

  And then light. Dull afternoon light.

  An alleyway. A body.

  Jael ran towards the crumpled figure sprawled in the dirt. ‘Grandmother! No!’

  Edela lay there covered in blood. Ashen-faced. Eyes closed. Chest still.

  ‘Grandmother!’

  ‘Jael?’

  Jael opened her eyes, gasping for air, her head swivelling in confusion.

  She was on Sea Bear.

  Too far away.

  Aleksander was at her side, gripping her hand, Axl behind him.

  ‘Nooo!’ she screamed uselessly. ‘Nooo!’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Aleksander squeezed Jael’s hand, trying to g
et her to focus on him. ‘What have you seen?’

  Eydis’ head went up on Ice Breaker. ‘Jael?’

  Eadmund was quickly at his sister’s side. ‘What is it? Has something happened?’ He turned to his helmsman. ‘Villas, bring us closer to Sea Bear.’

  Gisila was there now, gripping her daughter’s other hand, her throat tightening with every moment. ‘Jael?’

  But Jael was barely there. She was in the alley, desperately wanting to reach down and pick up her grandmother. To carry her back to the house, to Biddy, to Entorp.

  To help.

  Edela needed help.

  Jael closed her eyes, shutting them all out again.

  Edela needed help!

  She couldn’t be dead. She needed help.

  Thorgils, Jael thought. Thorgils.

  She saw the alley, Edela’s body. Still. Lifeless.

  She needed Thorgils.

  Thorgils!

  Jael was sobbing now. ‘Thorgils!’

  She saw him, holding a curl of hair in his hand, smiling to himself as he walked towards the main square.

  In the wrong direction.

  Thorgils!

  Thorgils!

  Thorgils tucked the soft, golden curl back inside his pouch.

  There was a ray of hope now, and he wasn’t going to shut it behind that door any longer. He strode away from the alley, imagining Isaura walking beside him. His stomach growled, and his mind quickly focused on thoughts of Biddy’s chicken and ale stew.

  He stopped suddenly, frowning as the clouds darkened overhead, threatening a sudden downpour. Edela had not seemed well. She’d looked pale, unsteady on her feet.

  Jael would never forgive him if something happened to her grandmother.

  He turned back into the alley, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to make sure that Edela was alright. And, perhaps he could encourage her back to the house and see how far along that stew was?

  Jael opened her eyes.

  Gisila was staring at her, kneeling on the wooden boards of the deck, her one open eye pleading. ‘Jael! What has happened? Please!’

  ‘Edela...’ Jael shook her head, trying to wake herself up. ‘I had a dream. She’s hurt. Someone tried to kill her.’

  Aleksander gasped.

  Evaine.

  ‘Is she...’ Axl didn’t want to go on. His sister’s face was streaming with tears, her body visibly shaking. He’d never seen her like this. ‘Is she... dead?’

  Jael blinked. The dream had retreated now, but her ears were buzzing so loudly that she could barely hear her own thoughts. She pushed everyone’s hands away and stood, limping quickly out of the wooden house towards Beorn. She saw Ice Breaker approaching, Eydis and Eadmund in the bow. ‘Let them come closer, Beorn, and once I’ve spoken to Eadmund, get us back to Oss as fast as you can!’

  Beorn nodded, disturbed by the look on Jael’s tear-stained face. He jerked the tiller back and forth, trying to slow them down. ‘Reef the sail!’ he yelled to his men. ‘Reef the sail!’

  ‘Who is Morana?’ Berard wondered.

  Meena gulped as the black-and-white-haired woman shuffled across the square towards them, her stooped frame pointing ominously in their direction.

  Berard turned to follow Meena’s gaze. ‘Is that her?’ he asked, remembering something Jael Furyck had said about a black-and-white-haired dreamer. ‘Is that Morana?’

  Meena nodded, caught between an urgent need to run and the certainty that there was no point now.

  Morana knew where she was.

  ‘Is she a dreamer?’ Berard whispered as Morana slithered closer.

  Meena nodded again, trembling all over, curling her shoulders into a defeated heap. ‘She is my aunt. Varna’s daughter.’

  Berard was shocked. ‘Varna had a daughter?’ He turned towards the woman, swallowing, his face as anxious, his shoulders as curled as Meena’s.

  Morana glared down at Meena’s sack, then back up to her niece’s terrified face, peering at her blotchy cheeks, her red, bulging eyes. ‘You’re leaving?’

  Berard was surprised by the venom in the woman’s voice as it rasped out of her twisted mouth. She didn’t acknowledge him, and although he was well used to being ignored by his father and disparaged by his brothers, he was not used to being so rudely disregarded by strangers. He coughed nervously. ‘And who are you that is asking?’

  Morana’s eyes flared in annoyance, her head snapping to Berard who was barely taller than Meena and just as pathetic looking. ‘Who am I?’ she growled, her thick eyebrows sharpening as she intensified her dark-eyed gaze. ‘I am Morana Gallas, your brother’s new dreamer.’

  Berard shook his head in confusion. ‘My brother? You mean Jaeger?’

  Morana laughed. ‘Didn’t he tell you?’

  Berard grabbed Meena’s hand down from her head. ‘No, he didn’t,’ he said boldly, forcing his eyes towards Morana’s. ‘Perhaps I shall go and speak to him about that? Come along, Meena, you can accompany me.’

  Meena blinked, sensing her aunt’s need to claim her, her own desire to run for the mountains, and now, Berard’s offer of help. She shivered, confused, desperate to tap her head, but now she had no hand free. ‘I, I,’ she started, then felt the warmth of Berard’s hand, the strength in it as it squeezed hers. There was comfort there, much more than she would find in the mountains or with Morana. ‘I... yes.’ Meena ducked her head away from her aunt’s scowl and allowed Berard to pull her towards the castle.

  Morana frowned after them.

  That girl, she was useless. Useless for now, at least.

  Morana just had to make sure she stayed that way.

  She would have to talk to Jaeger.

  It was cold in the alley.

  Thorgils thought of Odda’s cottage, which was always cold. He’d need to bring in some more wood for the night. His mother was still unable to get out of bed. He had to make sure that she stayed warm while she recovered from her illness. And then he’d have to think about building a proper house; one with thick, plastered walls like Eadmund and Jael’s.

  He stopped suddenly, squinting at a basket that lay abandoned up ahead.

  Edela had been carrying that basket.

  Thorgils ran, holding his breath, not wanting to be right, but then he saw her boots, her legs. ‘Edela!’ he cried, dropping down to the dirt beside her, instantly aware of the blood soaking through his trousers. He tore off his thick, bear-fur cloak and draped it over her. ‘Edela?’

  Her face was snow-white and cold to touch. Her eyes were closed. She was not moving. Thorgils dug his hands under her slight frame and scooped her into his arms.

  Standing up, he held her tightly against his chest and ran.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Eadmund called over the row of battered shields lining Ice Breaker’s gunwale. Eydis was sobbing next to him, unable to speak. He couldn’t get any sense out of her at all. And there was his wife, across the rolling waves, looking just as upset.

  ‘It’s Edela!’ Jael called back, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. ‘We have to go to Oss! She’s been attacked!’

  ‘Attacked?’

  ‘We have to go! You carry on to Saala!’ Jael waved quickly at him, then walked over to Beorn, who bellowed at his men to shake out the sails.

  The wind was stiffening.

  They needed to fly.

  Biddy hurried out of the house as soon as she heard her name, the puppies charging past her to see who was coming.

  ‘Get Entorp!’ Thorgils yelled to Askel as he rushed past the stables. ‘Hurry!’

  Askel took one look at the limp body in Thorgils’ arms, dropped his shovel and ran.

  ‘Edela!’ Biddy threw her hands over her mouth in horror as Thorgils rushed inside, blood dripping down his legs. ‘Edela!’ she cried, hurrying after him.

  Thorgils placed Edela onto one of the beds that lined the walls of the main room. The fire was blazing, and the house felt warm. He unpinned her cloak, gulping at the sight of so much blood. Edela’s dress was
soaked a deep, dark red, her skin looked pale and mottled. Shaking his head in disbelief, Thorgils stepped back to let Biddy through.

  Biddy rubbed away tears and tried to think as she bent towards Edela. She was so still. Her chest was not moving. Biddy reached for her wrist, desperately searching for a pulse. ‘Edela?’

  King Haaron of Hest looked morose as he slouched on his enormous dragon throne. His wife appeared hardly bothered, yawning as she stood next to him. In fact, she was almost cheerful. Amidst the devastating events of the past few days – the decimation of their entire fleet, the destruction of their piers, their sons’ injuries – Varna Gallas had died.

  And Haaron was bereft.

  Bayla could not understand why. She had been a vile, odorous crone who had manipulated him since he was a boy, keeping him on an unambitious leash of her own making. He had been controlled by Varna, and now he was free.