Lost Moon

by Dana Davis

“You went in the water?”

  “Good Moirai no. That river makes my hair stand on end. I stayed on the bank.”

  Relief colored Kepriah’s face. “Good.”

  The two began to walk, bones making awful sounds beneath their boots. Larisa noticed an odor of decay, like a bog her grandfather once showed her, and she tried her best to ignore it.

  “She attacked me?” Kepriah said in a low voice.

  “Yes. She appeared as a dark, faceless figure. It was sucking on your life force, or perhaps your magic. I’m not certain which.”

  “My magic. Bloody hell in Hollow! That’s it!” Blue eyes flicked to Larisa for a second then back to the ground ahead of them. “She was after my magic. I am certain of it.”

  Larisa nodded. She did not ask how her sister was certain. She was not sure she wanted to know. They walked on a while in silence, well, except for the awful sounds of this place. Both seemed content to ignore everything, as though on a pleasant stroll beside a meadow stream.

  After a long while, a tiny sparkle caught Larisa’s eyes. She stopped and pointed. “There.”

  “I see it. Come on.”

  Kepriah stopped them when they got close. The circular light came from the ceiling of the dark tunnel. She held up her scepter, pointing the blue stone toward the ceiling until it glowed. “This is the way out. It has to be.” The two stared at each other for a moment before Kepriah raised her brows. “Uh, Larisa?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your talisman.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m a bit distracted.” Her gaze went to the nearby river and the faces there. Something taunted her, pulled at her.

  “What is it?”

  “I am not certain.” She walked toward the river but felt Kepriah’s hand restrain her after a few steps. “One distorted face after another bubbled up only to burst with a pathetic wail. One face, this one clearer than the rest, came to the surface. It looked like that of a young male.”

  “Help them,” it said in a gurgling voice. Then it popped and melted back into the muddy water.

  “Larisa.” Kepriah sounded as though she had said that several times.

  Larisa drew her eyes from the river and focused on her sister. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what? What did you see?”

  She turned back to the river. The faces bubbled up and burst just as before, wailing or moaning, but not coherent. “One of them. A man, I think. He asked me to ‘help them’.”

  “Help who?”

  The concern and weariness on Kepriah’s face jolted Larisa back to their predicament. “Let us get out of here.” She took Kepriah’s hand, aimed her talisman at the light above, and concentrated on their living bodies. Two silver cords appeared and she followed them.

  Chapter 17

  Patrice watched in amazement as her sisters began to stir. “Thank the Moirai.” That phrase she had picked up here on Selenea. She had never been particularly spiritual, unlike her mother, but what she’d witnessed during her time here seemed to change her little by little. She began to wonder if the Moirai really existed, if there really was something beyond the earthly state. Magic had been a fable to her, until recently. I believe in it now. And I saw something strange before Jakon pulled me back here, so maybe there is an afterlife. “They’re coming around. They’ll need water.”

  Jakon ransacked one of their bags and drew out a leather canteen and camen fruit. He had instructed Kepriah to bless the fruit to make it wholesome, thanks to centuries of traveling with Sorinieve. Of course, he couldn’t remember the magical words the old woman used, but he didn’t need to. Kepriah figured it out quickly and made the fruit nutritious enough to live on for several days if they had nothing else to eat. Patrice helped Larisa, while Jakon took care of Kepriah, and the two women had their senses after a few minutes. Their bodies remained weak but they managed to keep the water down, and the blessed camen fruit gave them strength.

  “Not so fast, Nobles,” Jakon said in a soft voice. “You have been out for two days now.”

  “What?” Kepriah coughed. “I thought I was gone only a couple hours. Three at most.”

  “I wish,” Patrice said. “You scared us half to death. I thought we’d lose both of you.” Her hands had finally stopped trembling and she held Larisa’s head on her lap, dabbing the woman’s forehead with a damp cloth.

  Jakon nodded. “Your youngest sister was beside herself with worry.”

  Two sets of blue eyes almost identical to her own settled on Patrice and she shrugged.

  Larisa sat and leaned against her for an instant before she pulled away and turned to face her. “So, you do care what happens to us.” She gave a weary but satisfied smile.

  “Maybe. Just a little. Don’t get used to it.” The sisterly bond clamped tighter onto her heart with each passing day and she wasn’t certain she liked it. But if I can’t get back to Earth, I’m gonna need somebody on this forsaken planet at my side.

  Kepriah laughed. “‘About damn time you decided to trust us. I told you early on, when the Faytools bonded us, that I would not let anything happen to you.”

  Patrice raised a brow. “Was that before or after you tried to strangle me?”

  The hearty laugh that came from Kepriah betrayed her weary state. “I have to admit I thought about it. You have been a pain in my ass ever since you arrived.”

  “Back at you, sister dear.” Patrice chuckled.

  Kepriah’s face grew solemn. “Well, I for one want to know just who or what yanked me to the Hollow.”

  “There was a creature sucking on her magic,” Larisa said.

  Patrice nodded as she fought a chill. “I saw that thing. I called out to you but you didn’t hear me.”

  Larisa’s blue eyes gazed at her. “Not at first. But I did hear you eventually and got Kepriah away from that awful monster.”

  “What in hell and Hollow was that thing, anyway?” Kepriah’s gaze rested on Jakon.

  He had been watching in silence, an annoying habit, and took in a long breath. “My best guess is Nyanan.”

  Kepriah frowned. “That creature did not look human, Jakon.”

  “She would not appear human if she knows how to camouflage herself with magic. Which I suspect she does.”

  “But how can she be so powerful?” Larisa said in a low voice.

  “I’m not certain she is. Honor said that Nyanan is after your powers. If she was trying to steal your magic, Trine magic, then my guess is she is also taking it from those who wield even a miniscule amount.”

  “And she is using the Hollow to do it,” Kepriah hissed. “Sard it all by the Fates’ bones, why did I not figure that out sooner?”

  “You were preoccupied.”

  “No, not that. You already know I was accused of killing Rochar’s family and the royals put a bounty on my head.” Kepriah’s eyes narrowed when Jakon said nothing. “A family who is connected with the royals by their magical relatives.” Patrice watched, somewhat amused, as Jakon’s dark brows slowly drew upward. “Several of them,” Kepriah continued, “have been turned over to the royals by their own blood, and the village council keeps eyes and ears on each newly born member. Rochar made a deal with the royals for coin. I just happened to be in the village when he and his family were found murdered in their beds, and the council refused to believe a western warrior had nothing to do with the bloodshed. I saw Rochar’s face in the Hollow. I did not recognize him there, but I remember him now. He asked Larisa for help.”

  Their blonde sister nodded. “Yes. That was disturbing.”

  Patrice swallowed and focused on Kepriah. “Did you kill them? Rochar’s family?” The thought of murder turned her gut. But she had seen Kepriah’s temper, experienced it in fact, and knew of the woman’s violent history, sister or not.

  Kepriah clicked her tongue and glared at Patrice. “I do not kill children.”

  But you kill adults? She didn’t dare say that, but from the look Kepriah gave her, she didn’t have to. The woman w
ould feel her wariness through their link.

  Larisa shifted closer to Jakon as she studied Kepriah. “So, you think Nyanan stole that family’s magic and killed them all?”

  “Not the family. There was only one person in that house who had magic. Vendalina. She was about six years old. The rest had been tested and failed.”

  Patrice’s stomach turned. “Nyanan killed a six-year-old child? That’s horrible.”

  “Yes, Third, it is.” Jakon’s face grew solemn. “She would have slaughtered the entire family to take attention off the little one.”

  “Exactly,” Kepriah said. “You think Nyanan set me up?”

  “Not intentionally. I do not think she was after you, if she even knew who you were back then. You would have been little use to her until you had the scepter. And you would be no good at all without a head.”

  Kepriah smirked and nodded, then her face grew dark. “She wants our powers, Jakon. And it seems she will do anything to get them.”

  “Evidently.”

  Patrice’s heart thudded against her ribs at being prey. “What will happen if she gets our magic?” I can’t believe I just said that. Days ago, I didn’t even believe in it.

  “I do not know. Maybe you become average women.” Jakon’s jaw began to ripple but he said nothing more. He left the rest unsaid but Patrice got the disturbing gist of it.

  Maybe we die. Patrice tried to shove her fear down as best she could, but it didn’t help much and her hands trembled. Damn it. A headless sister didn’t sit well with her, either, and without magic, the bounty hunters would catch Kepriah. Patrice had never met a royal but she didn’t like anything she had heard about them so far. “This planet sucks.”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “Sucks, Jakon. As in terrible, horrible, awful, disgusting—”

  “You have outlaws on Earth, Patrice,” Larisa reminded in that oh-so-calm and annoying manner she often used.

  “Yeah, but they can’t drag you to hell and suck the life out of you.”

  “Point taken,” Kepriah said. Worry etched her tanned face and the matching emotion caressed Patrice’s senses.

  That definitely didn’t make her feel any better. Kepriah seemed unafraid most of the time. Even the screech cat they had encountered at the cave hadn’t frightened her like this. And the woman had seen battles. Bloody, gory death. Things Patrice had only witnessed on television, in movies, or in books. In fact, until she came to this planet, she had only seen one dead person her entire life and that was at a funeral. Jackie’s grandmother. Her own grandparents died when she was very young so she never really knew them. She hadn’t known Jackie’s grandmother but had gone to the funeral to support her friend. The woman in the casket looked like she was made of wax, an elderly doll dressed up in lace and silk. Peaceful.

  Sorinieve’s death was peaceful in its own way. After she had collapsed, the old woman appeared to be sleeping. Even when Larisa destroyed the body, there was nothing gory about it. One minute she was there, the next she was gone in a burst of flames and that was the end of it. What had horrified Patrice was that anyone could do such a thing with fire. Magic was fantasy, something humans dreamed about but were glad didn’t exist for reasons on the nightly news. What she saw in Donigere would no doubt haunt her for the rest of her life, but that was nature’s doing, a terrible disaster, not war, not murder, not the awful things one human can do to another. She shook her head to force those disturbing images from her brain.

  I’m such a big baby chicken. Well, shit, why shouldn’t I be? I’ve been taken from my home, my family and friends, my business. My world. Thrown onto this godforsaken planet here, wherever here is, where magic is very real and very dangerous. Now, there’s some crazy woman out for my magic or my soul or maybe both. Why shouldn’t I be afraid?

  “You all right, Third?”

  “What? Oh yeah, Jakon. Just peachy.” Larisa and Kepriah gave her looks that said they knew better. She felt their tension and weariness turn to worry but she was in no mood to share. “You two should sleep.”

  “She is right, Nobles. Your bodies need to recover.”

  Despite being the patient just now, Larisa placed a brief hand on Patrice’s arm as she studied Jakon. “There is something else. I saw many faces in Soul River.” She snapped her fingers. “Why could I not remember the river’s name in the Hollow?”

  Kepriah cursed under her breath. “I could not remember, either. We lost many of our memories there, Jakon. Not something I care to repeat. That place not safe for any of us.”

  “What kind of faces, Second?”

  Larisa took in a long breath, her gaze still on the desert man. “People. Dead, I assume. Faces appeared and disappeared in the dark water, but that’s not what disturbed me most.”

  Patrice wondered why. A scene like that would have her running for the exit, magic be damned. She shivered and wrapped arms around herself. This world got more disturbing by the second.

  “One soul asked me for help. Rochar, from what Kepriah said. But he did not just ask for himself. He begged me to help all of them. I have no idea what he meant or how I could possibly do that.”

  Kepriah sniffed. “Perhaps he wants us to take revenge for his family’s murder.”

  “I doubt that, First.” Jakon kept his voice low. “Soul River carries the dead to their next lives. They cannot exact revenge. All the tales I have read and heard say that the dead do not remember their previous lives here. It is supposed to be a peaceful journey.”

  Larisa leaned forward. “These souls were anything but peaceful, Jakon.”

  “Wait,” Patrice said. “Are you telling me some mystical river traps souls and then reincarnates them?” This sounds like a really bad fairytale.

  Jakon studied her a moment. “Soul River carries the dead through the underworld for rebirth. Their memories are removed and they are sent into new lives, reborn according to the way they lived their previous life. That is how it has always been. The only person who crosses the river is the Guardian. He rescues those who have died too soon and sends them back to their bodies, then makes certain the others move forward to their new futures.”

  “That’s who he was,” Larisa said. “I should have remembered.”

  Patrice gawked at her. “You saw Death?” She felt lightheaded and fought to keep her breath steady.

  “Not Death, Third,” Jakon said. “The Guardian of the dead.”

  “Oh, well, that’s completely different then.” Jakon seemed to catch her sarcasm but her sisters were preoccupied with their own thoughts.

  “I saw him, too, Jakon,” Kepriah said. “He seemed upset I was there. Mumbled something about me not belonging.”

  Larisa nodded and smoothed her hair as she re-braided it. The normally golden locks were dull with grime. “Same with me. He mentioned someone else, too. An old one. At first, I had no idea who he meant, but now I think he was talking about Nyanan.” She and Kepriah exchanged looks, then Larisa yawned.

  Patrice shook her head and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m going to have nightmares for a really long time.” Larisa laid a hand on her arm again but said nothing.

  Kepriah gave her quick glance and stretched her neck. “Well, I plan to sleep for the next two days so we can discuss this later. Nothing we can do about Nyanan until we learn more. If she wants our magic, I do not think she will push us too far. She would be stupid to try anything in our weakened state. We are no good to her dead.”

  “Agreed.” Jakon stood. “And she will need sleep as well. Whatever else Nyanan is, she’s still human. You two rest. Patrice and I have chores to do.” He motioned her up, took her arm.

  With her sisters bedding down, Patrice stepped outside to look around the remains of Donigere and walk off the disturbing thoughts that threatened to send her into a panic. The afternoon was crisp and she opened her coat to let the cold numb her, ignoring Jakon’s pleas to cover up. Ground-in dirt soiled her coat and she fought a sigh. I’ll never get it clean. And I
’ll never be able to walk into store and buy a new one. Sadness threatened her and she shoved it down as she stepped off the porch and onto the cobblestone street with Jakon.

  They had cleaned up the debris in Larisa’s house, and the mud outside had begun to harden in areas, leaving crumbling stains on everything that had recently been under water. A layer of mold grew on the homes that survived. Birds had begun to return and they sang as Patrice studied watermarks on the trunks of the tallest trees.

  Suddenly, a thought filled her mind. “Jakon?”

  “Yes, Third?”

  “Where did the floodwaters go? Larisa said a broken dam caused the flooding, but that much water couldn’t have dissipated or soaked into the ground so quickly could it?” Patrice was no expert, but a dam held back a river or some other large body of water. And why hadn’t anyone else thought of it? Surely, geography wasn’t that much different on Selenea.

  He gazed at her in utter amazement for a moment then glanced up and down the road. “That is a very good question. This should be a river.”

  “You just now realized that?”

  “Yes.” Golden eyes found hers. “I believe someone has been intruding on our memories again.”

  “And messing with the river. Who could do that?”

  “As far as I know, only one person has that much power over land and water. First Noble.”

  Patrice’s heart rapped against her ribs and she looked in the direction of Larisa’s cottage. Kepriah stood in the doorway with scepter in hand and a peculiar look on her face.

  ****

  A man and woman came closer, and Kepriah tightened the grip around her scepter.

  “What’s wrong with you?” the woman said. Her brown braid swung around her shoulders.

  “You should be resting,” the man said.

  Something in her memory began to surface and she realized she was not alone in her own mind. Someone was with her. How could that be? With mental discipline she had honed over the past few weeks, she shoved at the presence. Get out! Get out of my head!

  “Kepriah?” the woman said. “What’s wrong?”