Shadow Moon

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Shadow Moon Page 7

by Elysa Hendricks


  Thoughts of Cathy and the familiar scent of wood smoke brought Thea to the forefront of her mind. Was Thea looking up at Earth's moon and crying for her mother?

  Tears threatened to undo Dale. She scrubbed at her eyes.

  To survive, to find her way in this strange world, she had to be strong. She had to stop thinking about what might be happening to Thea. Worry, fear and grief would slow her down, make her careless. Crying wouldn't get her home. Only Shadow could help her do that. Where was he?

  Minutes stretched into hours. As the fire burned low, the moon began its descent toward the horizon. For a moment before it disappeared, the red shadow moon slipped free and blazed in the night sky. Dale blinked and they were both gone, leaving her to wonder if she'd imagined it or if it was some sort of optical illusion brought on by TUDS—Temporary Universe Displacement Syndrome.

  Her warm breath frosting the air, Dale paced the campsite. She stopped and stared out into the darkness. Where was Shadow? Had he deserted her? Worry niggled at her mind.

  What about the animals? He wouldn't leave them behind. Had something happened to him? What dangers lurked out there?

  "Damn you, Shadow. I didn't save your worthless hide so you could go off and get yourself killed.” Her shout filled the quiet night.

  That was a dumb move, she thought. Now whatever might be out there knows exactly where I am. She stepped out of the firelight and stared into the gloom.

  Just beyond the glow of the fire something moved. A branch snapped. She pulled her knife and poised to defend herself.

  Chapter Six

  "I am pleased that you care."

  Hands pressed to her pounding chest, she whirled around to face Shadow.

  He stood there calmly, a dark shadow against an even blacker background. Head tucked beneath her wing, Ava perched on his shoulder. Slung over his other shoulder was the carcass of a small, hoofed animal.

  Relief turned her tone strident. “Where have you been?"

  He moved into the glow of the fire. “To check out the pass and collect Ava's kill.” The carcass slid to the ground. “I told you I would return. You should not have worried."

  "Worried? I wasn't worried."

  His eyebrow quirked upward. “No?"

  "No, not about you anyway. The devil takes care of his own. But what about me? I don't know what roams these mountains. Anything could have happened to me while you were out gallivanting."

  "Once you started the fire you were in no danger. Shardak and big cats give wide berth to fire. After Ava made her kill, I sent her to keep watch over you. If there had been any threat, she would have alerted me."

  "Yeah, I'm sure.” What in the heck was a shardak? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. She sat down near the fire and changed the subject. “Is the pass open?"

  "Yes, but a storm is brewing. We must move quickly or get caught in it. Late storms are dangerous, the snow wet and heavy. Once it falls, it will block the pass for at least another tenday. If we leave at first light, we may beat the weather through the pass.” As he spoke he used the knife Thom had given him to skin the carcass. The blade glinted in the firelight. Soon the meat hung on a spit. The smell of roasting meat made Dale's mouth water anew. Ava roused, her head popping from beneath her wing.

  "Did you see any sign of your friends?"

  "They are not my friends. But, no, there was no trace of them on the pass.” His denial of Treman's and Faxan's friendship stirred Dale's curiosity. Apparently, he didn't hold the two men in high regard. How could she use that information to her advantage?

  "Then how can you be sure they came this way?"

  Shadow tore off a piece of meat and fed it to Ava. “To reach the slaver encampment they must go this way. This is the closest pass. The other pass is thirty leagues to the east. That pass lies in Arete and is patrolled by the Aretian guard. No slaver would dare trespass there."

  Shadow's tone confused Dale. He sounded proud of the Aretian guard prowess. Shouldn't their skill at repelling slavers frustrate and enrage him?

  "If they didn't use the pass, then where did they go?” She had to catch up with them and get her necklace back.

  "I said I found no sign of them in the pass, not that they did not travel this way. Dolan told me when he followed the slavers they were mere hours ahead of him. But when he got to the pass, it was closed and the slavers were gone. Others have reported similar occurrences since the slavers started their raids last annum. I believe they must know of another route through the mountain."

  "A secret passageway?"

  "Perhaps. The Azul mountain range is riddled with caves and tunnels."

  "You're a slaver. How come you don't know about this passageway?” She held her breath. His answer might reveal the secret she sensed he was hiding.

  Shadow's eyes became shuttered. He wiped his hands over his trousers and stood. “Sleep now. First light comes soon."

  Suddenly apprehensive, Dale glanced at the tiny tent then at Shadow. Unless they slept wrapped in each other's arms there wasn't room for both of them. The thought evoked tantalizing images of their naked bodies twined together. Long forgotten warmth curled low in her belly. No man since Steven had stirred her this way.

  Shadow's next words left her feeling cold and abandoned.

  "I will rest near the fire."

  Since his sensual assault on her in the bathhouse, he hadn't made any moves against her, which was at odds with his claim that he was a slaver and she was his property. Did he find her unappealing?

  Aside from being unreasonable and demanding, a common trait in men in general, these last few days he'd treated her with kindness and respect. Most of the women she knew would kill for a man who showed them as much consideration as he'd shown her.

  As Dale crawled into the tent she found herself hoping his restraint was because he wasn't really a slaver and wasn't due to a lack of interest.

  * * * *

  Thea gripped the remaining shards of her Aunt Cathy's necklace. A week ago she'd stood helpless and watched as her mother vanished in a flash of lightning. Now she was nearly ready to go after her.

  Though everyone was being kind, she found no comfort in their words. No one believed what she saw. They figured she was traumatized and imagining things. They discounted the evidence—her mom's clothing left behind on the rock, and the fact that Aunt Cathy had disappeared the same way. Did they think her mom had decided to go skinny-dipping during a raging November thunderstorm? Adults confused Thea.

  Once again Thea checked her preparations. The metal chain her mother had made for the shard she wore had been left behind, so the milky white crystal Thea wore hung on a braid of her own hair. The soft wool of her shirt and pants tickled her skin. Her simple leather sandals felt hard and uncomfortable. She could only hope that the natural animal fibers would follow her wherever she was going. As an extra precaution, she'd ground up a small amount of the crystal, mixed it in water and rinsed her clothing in it. In the sun the tiny particles of crystal made her clothing glitter with a thousand pinpoints of light. Crystal chips decorated the straps of her sandals.

  Though she didn't know if her medications would make the transfer she put them in her pocket. She'd spent the morning at the clinic in dialysis. With luck she could survive a week without another treatment.

  She scratched her arms to ease the persistent itch her kidney disease caused and looked around her studio. A few months after Aunt Cathy's disappearance, Thea and her mom had moved into the house. Aunt Cathy's murals still covered the walls, but now instead of an artist's drawing board and stacks of canvas, the room held a small scientific laboratory. Where Thea's mother and aunt were magicians with metal and paint, Thea made magic with science. Blessed with an above average intellect and a photographic memory, she found chemical formulas, mathematical equations and machinery endlessly fascinating. The chemical smells of her lab blended with the remembered scents of Aunt Cathy's turpentine and oils.

  Because she was small, blond and young,
as well as ill, people usually underestimated her abilities. It annoyed her that because of her fragile health people tended to treat her as if her mind was somehow damaged as well her body. At fourteen, Thea understood more than people gave her credit for. Even her mom didn't realize how much more. Until her illness forced her to stop she'd excelled in the martial arts and was still a straight A honors student. She surprised people in more ways than one.

  She stared out the studio's large windows. Late November sun glinted off the steel-gray surface of the river and leafless trees cast skeleton like shadows on the dormant ground. Thea had hoped for an electrical storm, but clear skies were predicted for the next few days. Should she wait? She'd done the calculations and run the experiments, but plan B was still risky.

  There was no hard scientific evidence to support her belief that her mom, Aunt Cathy, and her mysterious male visitor had left this world to enter her aunt's imaginary one. But Thea knew many discoveries owed more to intuitive hunches and gut feeling than to recordable facts.

  "Thea? Are you up there?” Concern rang in Scott's voice.

  Thea remained quiet.

  After the way she'd lost control with the police who'd come in response to her 911 call, Scott's interference was the only reason she hadn't been locked in a padded room. Once he took her home, she'd calmed down, but the authorities and Scott were keeping close watch on what they called her fragile mental state. If he saw how she was dressed, he'd probably ship her off to a head shrink and she'd lose her chance.

  A narrow sliver of crystal warmed in her hand.

  "Thea! Answer me.” His footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  It was now or never. Soon her health would fail to the point where she wouldn't be able to make the attempt. Even if she didn't desperately need a kidney transplant from her mother to live, Thea would go after her anyway.

  She focused her gaze on the mural, a rural area just beyond the castle. Taking a step, she hesitated. Something drew her eyes to the far upper left corner of the mural, to the misty vague image of blue mountains and the obscure smudge at their base that represented a village. Logic suggested she aim for a solid destination, but her instinct pulled her in another direction.

  She extended her arm and shoved the point of the crystal deep into an electrical outlet.

  Hot and icy, energy surged through her. Time froze. She went rigid in anticipation of pain. Instead, a multitude of colors, tiny fairy lights danced over and around her. The sound of music, pure and sweet, ran like liquid silver through her veins. Her vision blurred, then cleared to sparkling clarity. Fear faded, replaced by satisfied awe.

  Her lab was gone. Instead she stood in a field alongside a narrow dirt road. Tender green shoots covered the dark rich ground. She inhaled. The air smelled of damp earth and green growing things, of spring and new beginnings. Her body tingled as if she'd just received a jolt of static electricity.

  A cool breeze stirred her hair. Thea shivered and hugged herself. The feel of wool beneath her fingers made her laugh. Her clothing had survived the transfer. She felt in her pocket and her heart sank. Her pills had not transferred. Nor had the hard candies she sucked constantly to help relieve her chronic thirst. Her resolve stiffened. This meant she'd have to move quickly and find her mom before her body started to fail her will.

  To her right, like great slabs of sparkling blue ice, a mountain range rose against an even bluer sky. In the other direction lay a village. She could hear the distant murmur of voices and the rattle of wagons. Either her theory about what had happened to her mom and aunt was correct or she was crazy. Or dead. But until she had evidence either way, she'd accept what her senses told her to be true. She was in another reality.

  Like a metal to a powerful magnet she felt the crystal around her neck and the one in her hand pulling her northward. She looked longingly at the quaint village, but didn't argue with her instinct. She turned away from the village and started walking north along the road. Her mother was out there somewhere. “I'm coming, Mom."

  * * * *

  Raf woke with a start. In his hand the milk crystal grew warm and vibrated. For several heartbeats his body tingled and his thoughts were not his own. He looked out of another's eyes, first upon an artist's rendition of the Azul Mountains, then at the real thing.

  "Mom,” sounding oddly childish, the strange word slipped through his lips.

  From inside the tent, Dale murmured, “What, sweetie?"

  What evil magic was this? He shook off the dream vision and jerked his hand away from the moon-cursed stone. Akester, royal zard to the king of Mardelan, claimed to use special crystals to communicate with other worlds. What possible connection could this woman have with the holy man?

  Always the skeptic, Raf discounted his experiences with his friend, Ash four annum ago. He shoved aside his memory of the woman Cathy disappearing in a flash of lightning. In his opinion, zards were at best deluded masters of sleight of hand, who used their talent to lead people to live better lives. At worse, they were charlatans who took advantage of gullible people to line their own pockets. He was unsure into which category Akester fit. He refused to believe what he could not see, hear, taste, smell or touch.

  A warrior who doubted his senses did not live long. A dream was just a dream. A crystal was just a crystal. To believe otherwise led to madness.

  The first streaks of dawn lit the sky as Raf stirred the embers of the fire to life and put on a pot of gana to heat. When he started cutting up the remainder of the aruka, Ava flew down from her perch on top of the tent. He grunted slightly as she landed heavily on his shoulder.

  "Hungry?” he asked the bird.

  She bobbed her head in response. He fed her pieces of the greasy meat.

  "Aren't you afraid she'll mistake one of your fingers for breakfast?” Yawning her question, Dale emerged from the tent. Tousled from sleep, her hair framed her face like a pale yellow cloud. She raised her arms over her head. Her shirt stretched tight across her chest, outlining her full breasts. A band of creamy white skin peeked between her shirt and trousers.

  Swallowing the growing moisture in his mouth, Raf turned his gaze toward the fire. “Unlike people, avaries never bite the hand that feeds them."

  Dale plopped down cross-legged across the fire from him. “Any of that meat left? It smells heavenly. I'm famished. Must be the fresh mountain air and exercise. Thea and I always eat like pigs when we camp.” Her voice wobbled on Thea's name. Not waiting for approval, she reached over and carved off a hunk of meat with her knife.

  Her feathers ruffled, Ava squawked in protest.

  "Oh, hush, bird brain. There's enough to share.” Dale tore into the succulent meat with an unladylike gusto. Grease made her lips glisten enticingly. “Yummy. What kind of animal is this?"

  "An aruka, a small, hoofed animal, plentiful in these mountains. It was Ava's kill. Courtesy dictates you ask for her permission to eat. Last eve I asked for both of us."

  Hand frozen halfway to her mouth, she looked at him. “Ask a pet for permission to eat? You're kidding, right?"

  "Ava is not a pet. She is a companion. A partner. A friend. I do not own her. She stays at my side because there is a bond between us. Your actions and attitude toward her are lacking in respect. You will apologize."

  Slowly, Dale put down the meat and wiped her hands on the mossy ground. She pinned Raf with a hard stare. “And if I refuse?"

  Good question. Could he force this woman to bend to his will without breaking her? The more he considered it, he realized she had not accompanied him into the mountains because of his veiled threats against Dolan, but to follow some plan of her own. Still, he could not let her challenge go unanswered.

  "Shall I let Ava teach you respect?"

  Ava threw up her head and spread her wings, an expanse wider than the length of his arm. Her talons dug painfully into his shoulder.

  Determination flared in Dale's eyes. She pulled her knife. “I don't want to have to hurt your pe ... friend, but I'll d
efend myself."

  Fool! Raf chided himself. Even a timid tita mouse would fight when cornered. And Dale was far from timid. A warrior by nature, she would answer any challenge. Though Ava was a skilled huntress, capable of protecting herself from creatures larger and more dangerous than Dale, he could not risk her being injured. She was too important. He refused to consider that he backed down out of fear that Dale might be hurt by the bird.

  "I would not want Ava to mar your beauty. A scarred woman does not fetch much at auction.” His taunting words tasted foul. With gentle strokes, he tried to soothe Ava's agitation. She folded her wings, but shifted away from his touch to show him her displeasure.

  Dale's snort of disbelief did not bode well for their future relationship. What more must he do to convince her he was a slaver? It never paid to show weakness to your enemy.

  Round one to her, Dale thought. To hide her growing grin, she ducked her head. Best not to tempt his decision. Why did he want her to believe he was a slaver, when his actions contradicted his claims?

  Wise enough to remain quiet, she slid her knife into its sheath and picked up the meat, but not before asking, “Ava, may I?"

  As if the bird understood, she bobbed her head, and then launched herself from Shadow's shoulder. Though annoying, Ava commanded Dale's grudging respect. Beautiful, smart and loyal, she was the perfect companion for a man like Shadow.

  "Break camp. I will saddle the quinar. We leave soon.” He gulped the rest of his drink, tossed down the empty cup and left.

  "Bossy bastard. Do this. Do that. Hasn't the man ever heard of please and thank you?” she grumbled as she moved through the well-known motions of breaking camp. “Thea's rowdy teenage friends have better manners.” Her fingers gripped the silky tent fabric. Every minute away from her daughter seemed like an eternity. “Don't worry, Sweetheart. I'll be home soon."

  It took them most of the morning to work their way up through the narrow twisting pass. Only yards across at its widest points, truck-sized boulders blocked their line of sight and doubled the distance they needed to travel. The pass rose steeply upward between sheer slabs of blue rock. A trickle of melting snow slicked the rocky ground. The quinar picked their way delicately. Ava glided above them, leading the way.

 

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