Lost Moon

by Dana Davis

  The presence retreated but did not leave. Again, she shoved her will against it. Get—out! The thing fought and she had difficulty staying focused. Her eyesight began to fail and everything around her started to blur. “No!” Someone laid hands on her but she shook off the touch. Her heart and breath raced as she fought to take back her body. I will not let you have me, you sarding piss-sucker!

  With great effort, she stilled her mind against the turmoil that threatened to unhinge her and imagined the scepter’s strength filling her. She could see only darkness, but she felt the scepter’s power build, and she latched onto that strength with all her might. She shoved against the intruder with the power of the scepter inside her, two warriors engaged in battle and Kepriah determined to win. Blast you to the two moons!

  Kepriah kept the power flowing through her body until the other presence grew weak. After an undetermined amount of time, she began to lose her grip on the magic and forced her fingers so tightly around the scepter that they ached. A magical word left her lips and with one final shove and the intruder disappeared. Kepriah’s legs folded as magic drained from her body, forcing her to lean on the scepter for support, blind and vulnerable.

  Someone snagged her under the arms, strong hands that easily kept her on her feet. Has to be Jakon. She still could not see anything but darkness but she felt worry emanating from her sisters. Jakon led her inside and helped her sit on the floor. She kept the scepter beside her and tried to gather thoughts and memories from the past few days. Her eyesight slowly returned, first as a hazy light with shadowy figures. After a few moments, the haze lifted. Her sisters and Jakon sat near her, faces etched with worry.

  “Jabber shit.”

  Patrice leaned toward her. “What happened, Kepriah? I felt you struggle, felt your power. Your anger pounded against something.”

  “She was here.”

  Those blue eyes that looked so much like her own widened. “Nyanan?”

  “Yes. Bloody bitch.” Weariness from the last two days engulfed Kepriah and she took in a long breath. “Must have latched onto my mind sometime before the Hollow. That’s why I lost my will against her so easily. I thought I broke free of her in the Hollow but she must have been waiting for me to return to my body. Probably knew the weakened state I would be in and thought she could take over.” She would not have admitted weakness to anyone but family. “Lucky for us, she was wrong.”

  Golden eyes studied her. “I am sorry, First Noble. I never suspected Nyanan could do something like this.”

  “It’s all right, Jakon. We will not underestimate her again.” More memories surfaced in hazy segments. “She had me do something. Several days ago.”

  “What?” Patrice said in a sarcastic tone. “Like move the water from this village and repair the dam?”

  “Jabber shit on a hot day! Yes!”

  “I was joking. We were still in the desert with Jakon’s people.”

  Kepriah squinted as thoughts coalesced in her mind. “Nyanan could have brought me here, forced me to make archways several nights in a row, until I had enough strength to clear the waters and repair the dam, then make me and anyone who saw us forget. I was stronger by then and could travel farther than when we first arrived. I certainly could have made it to Donigere and back during the night. And it would explain my weariness in the mornings. Perhaps Nyanan planned for us to come to Donigere.”

  Jakon clicked his tongue and his face grew dangerous. Kepriah would hate to meet him on a battlefield. “If you are correct, she must have planted that order in Honor’s memory.”

  Larisa, who had been sitting quietly beside Kepriah checking her pulse, looked up. “You think Nyanan is strong enough to manipulate Honor?”

  “Yes, Second.”

  “But why repair the dam?” Patrice said. The woman was smart but sheltered, at least from what Kepriah had seen and heard.

  “Rumors spread quickly,” she told her Earth sister. “And a village that floods and leaves the dead behind is considered a very bad omen. No one knows Larisa survived.” There was no one left to tell. That flood killed every living person here, except her. She would not say that part aloud. Her middle sister had been wounded enough without Kepriah adding salt. And Larisa already knew she was a lone survivor. “No one will venture here for quite some time, probably years. Nyanan knew we would be alone here.”

  Patrice’s pale face twisted with thought. “We have superstitions on Earth. But how did Nyanan get to you? You’re not exactly a newbie with that thing anymore.” She nodded to the scepter.

  Kepriah smirked. “Caught me in a rare off-guard moment.” Something I do not intend to let happen again, if I can help it. That woman is very strong. I just hope I can become stronger before we run out of time.

  “Yeah. That must’ve been it.” Patrice chuckled, a nervous habit Kepriah had noticed from her.

  A tiny smile came from Larisa but Jakon did not look amused. “I do not like this, Nobles. If Nyanan is this strong, there is no telling what she will try next.”

  Patrice shrugged. “Maybe we should stay someplace else since she knows we’re here.”

  Fear caressed Kepriah from both her sisters, but Patrice had been more fearful than Larisa of late. Their middle sister seemed to harden with each body she had disposed of here, like a new soldier toughened with each battle. Patrice acted younger in many ways because of her sheltered upbringing on the sister world.

  “We should stay to the less-traveled roads,” Jakon said. “The fewer eyes the better.”

  “I agree.” Kepriah focused on creating an archway, but fighting off Nyanan had drained her and she could not expand one more than a few inches now. She glanced at Larisa, who looked as tired as she felt, then focused on Jakon. “It will be dark soon and I cannot do any archways until I have rested. I think it’s time I cash in on a little favor. I have been saving it for when I really needed it.”

  Larisa snorted and her brows went up. “You mean you did not need it when the royals put a bounty on your head?”

  Despite the day’s trials, a smile found Kepriah’s lips. Her middle sister was still innocent in some things. “I had the mountains and the cave. That would have held me until spring.” Of course, I did not count on Manry dying and me getting blackened toes from the cold. Thankfully, Sorinieve had healed her.

  “But you would’ve died in that cave all alone,” Patrice said.

  “Not likely. The cave was warm enough. The jabber meat I collected would have sustained me, along with snow and the occasional hare.”

  Jakon gazed at the Earth woman. “Your eldest sister is used to surviving harsh conditions. War is not kind. To anyone.”

  That sent waves of sympathy from both of her sisters but Kepriah ignored their concerns. The scar that ran along her chest, shoulder, and down her arm began to tingle, something she had felt on and off ever since a blade had opened her all those years ago, a harsh reminder to keep focused on her enemy and not let her guard down during battle.

  “So,” Jakon said. “Who owes you a favor, First?”

  “A little weasel of a royal named Damon.”

  “In the Cities of Sleep? I know of the boy.” Jakon’s sour expression made Kepriah chuckle. “What did you do to get a favor from him? Save his sorry little hide?”

  “Actually, yes. He will not turn me in.” At least, I hope.

  “I will stand watch while you sleep.”

  “Even if Nyanan comes back, she will not get any magic out of me until I have rested, Jakon. You should sleep.”

  “I will stand watch.” His tone brooked no argument.

  Kepriah shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  ****

  The next day, Larisa woke tired and listless, though she did not think Nyanan had visited during the night. Of course, she would not remember a visit and was more than a little relieved to see daylight. The past few days had been such a strain, finding her village dead and in shambles, seeing her parents’ bodies. If not for the brooch on her mother’
s tattered dress, she might not have recognized them right away.

  She touched the side of the house as she walked around it, taking in the damaged walls, broken windows, and other signs of the recent flood. This is no longer my home. At first, she had loathed Honor, or Nyanan rather, for sending them here. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing all of this has given me a sense of peace. Odd that I can think that way. The hope of one day finding her parents alive had kept her preoccupied on many occasions. Now that she knew her parents were headed toward their next lives, she could concentrate on hers in the here and now and her role as Second Noble of the Trine.

  The talisman grew warm against her breast and she fingered it. Suddenly, as though someone had opened a window in front of her, a vision began. A single image. She waited, but no message or person appeared with the image and the window closed.

  “You all right, Larisa?” Patrice said.

  “I just had another vision.”

  “Of what?”

  Patrice had done a wonderful thing by watching over her and Kepriah. Nyanan could not be trusted and Larisa did not want to admit how scared she had been in the Hollow, yet at the same time, something there felt oddly familiar to her, as though she had simply visited an old friend’s village. “I’m not certain, yet.” She hooked her arm in Patrice’s, wanting to talk to Jakon about it first. “You look nice in my old dress.”

  “Thanks, but I feel weird in these long skirts, like I’m going to a Renaissance Faire or Halloween party.”

  Larisa, not knowing those exact references, drew herself up. No matter what her sister’s life had been like on Earth, this was home now. Jakon had been right about Earth people. Patrice seemed younger in many ways. Though, I am not exactly married with a babe at my teat, either. “You are a woman, Patrice. Women wear skirts.”

  Patrice laughed. “You sound like a little old lady from another era. And what does that make Kepriah? I’ll bet she’s never worn a skirt in her life.”

  Larisa shook her head as she led the way into the house. “Kepriah is a warrior. They are different.”

  “She’s not a warrior anymore.”

  “Of course I am.” Larisa and Patrice turned to Kepriah, who had entered behind them and now stood with one hand on her hip and the other on her scepter. “Only my weapon has changed.” She lifted the scepter and studied it for a moment.

  “Jakon, I had a vision,” Larisa said. “But I do not know what it means.” She waited as Jakon joined them. “I saw a stone circle in some sort of copse or woods. On it, sat a stone altar. A stone sword was carved into the top and beside it sat a magnificent metal sphere. At least, it looked like metal. It might have been glass. That’s all I saw before it ended.”

  Kepriah turned to Jakon and the two said in unison, “The Sacred Eye.”

  “What’s the Sacred Eye?” Patrice stood next to Larisa, their elbows nearly touching.

  “An ancient place, Third,” Jakon said. “Where only the worthy can receive a special vision.”

  “I am supposed to go there.” Though how Larisa knew that exactly, she could not explain.

  He nodded. “I had wondered, Second. I have never heard of anyone coming out of that place alive, but a member of the Trine would certainly be worthy.”

  “What do you mean no one has come out alive?” Patrice said in a low voice.

  “Any who are not worthy are killed if they ask a question of the Sacred Eye.”

  “That’s just wrong.”

  “Everyone knows the risk when they enter, Third.”

  “It’s still wrong.”

  Disgust caressed Larisa’s senses and she placed a calming hand on her Earth sister’s arm. “Do you know where the Sacred Eye is located, Jakon?”

  “Afraid not. You did not see that in your vision?”

  “No.”

  “Damon will know,” Kepriah said. “But will Larisa be all right going there, Jakon?”

  “If the talisman gave her the vision, then she must be the one chosen to ask the question.”

  That’s when Larisa realized she had no idea what question to ask and she vocalized those fears.

  “You will figure it out, Second. The Moirai would not have shown it to you otherwise.”

  Larisa could not help her doubts, though, and she took in a long breath to calm her nerves.

  Kepriah handed out bread and cheese wrapped in cloth then moved toward her pallet. “Get your things packed. I want to be at Damon’s place before dark. We can eat on the way.” She shoved a chunk of cheese into her mouth, scooped up her pack and rolled pallet, then headed outside. Jakon took up several items and followed on Kepriah’s heels.

  Patrice studied the food in her hand. “She’s too damn bossy.”

  Larisa smiled. “She worries about us.”

  “Yeah. But she’s still bossy.”

  Larisa shook her head. “Let us hurry, sister. I would like a palace bed beneath me tonight.”

  “You said it. And I could go for a nice hot bath.”

  That made Larisa long for one, too. She took up her things and followed Patrice out.

  “You all right, Second?” Jakon stood in the street, studying her.

  She glanced at what was once her village. Childhood memories surfaced here and there in her mind and she pushed them back. “This is not my home anymore. My Donigere is in here.” She pointed to her head then her heart. “And here.” That got a sympathetic smile from the tall, golden-eyed man and he nodded. Her sisters’ concern waved against her senses and she faced them. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get moving.”

  A smirk danced on Kepriah’s lips then she let out a noisy breath as she focused on her scepter. Once she had a shimmering archway open, leading to some remote place Larisa had never seen before, Jakon crossed through and assured them it was safe. Patrice went next. Larisa followed them into her uncertain future and put Donigere behind her. Forever.

  Chapter 18

  Even with archways speeding their journey, it took most of the day to reach the Cities of Sleep. Kepriah met with several cold spots, where she could receive visions but not create archways, so they did more walking than usual. The cold spots seemed to become more common the closer they got to the hoisting deadline. Or else this area of the world has more of them. With such unpredictable magic, Kepriah had wrapped her scepter in a blanket, with an opening just large enough to keep her hand directly touching it, and kept her group on isolated roads.

  Luckily, they had run into few people and no one had stopped or questioned them. Kepriah wondered what her bounty was up to these days. Or perhaps I have been given up for dead. No, probably not. Royal bounty hunters would want proof of my body. They would wait until snow melt before trekking up the mountains to search for her. As long as they think I’m in the mountains, we should be safe here. For a while anyway.

  The Cities of Sleep gates came into sight and she stopped her group. She nodded to Patrice and waited as the Earth woman concentrated on her ring then assured her that the camouflage worked. Patrice was the only one of the Trine who could see the results, since it was the ring’s magic. Jakon confirmed the illusion, but despite the camouflage, Kepriah kept her cloak hood up as she led them to the gates of Sleep, making certain they stayed close together.

  As they reached the gates, a guard stopped them. “Business?” He looked older than Kepriah expected, well past his prime, but even an old man trained in weapons could maim and kill.

  “Purchase and trade,” Jakon said in a voice that portrayed a weary traveler.

  The guard looked them up and down. Patrice’s spell had better work. If they recognize me, we will find ourselves imprisoned. No one would believe she and Damon knew each other if that happened. No one would care. The Trine would have to use magic to escape and hope no bounty hunters captured them before they got to safety. Kepriah was more confident in their magic, but she did not want to test her sisters against trained bounty hunters, so she had rehearsed this scenario with her them.


  “Welcome to Cities of Sleep,” the guard finally said, though his tone was anything but welcoming, and he stepped aside to let them enter the gates.

  “Thank you,” Jakon said in an impartial voice.

  Kepriah held her scepter, now concealed to look like an ordinary staff by Patrice’s camouflage spell, and started into the city. “Stay close,” she uttered once they were out of the guard’s earshot.

  The Cities of Sleep were no longer cities by the ancient definition. Only this one was inhabited anymore, the one most called Sleep, along with a few outlying farms, since trade had all but disappeared outside the gates. And the only reason those few citizens allowed Damon his show of power was because he had paid his late father’s debts and held a grand feast last winter solstice, not long before Kepriah fled to the mountains. Kepriah doubted he could afford the same for the coming summer solstice, but then, Damon was not one for thinking ahead. He lived for whatever pleasure he could get at any given moment.

  More people traversed the streets than the last time Kepriah walked here. Perhaps the feast had been an advantage for business. Missing, she noticed, were young families. Everywhere she looked, old people and a few adolescent boys strolled this way and that. Her eyes found only three children, and their mothers looked to be at the end of their childbearing years. She suspected the young families had moved on to better fortunes and she shook her head.

  “What is it?” Jakon said. Kepriah had told him not to use their titles here. His eyes still appeared golden to her, but those not tied to the Trine’s magic would see nothing more than a middle-aged farmer and his family.

  Kepriah appeared twenty years older and with a few gray hairs. A mother figure to Patrice and Larisa, who looked the same as they always did, except for Patrice’s clothes. They had left her odd Earth clothes back in Donigere, and she now wore one of Larisa’s dresses from a trunk they had found. The trunk had been water sealed and only a tiny amount of dampness had gotten inside, leaving the contents practically untouched. The man who made it, Larisa’s father, had died in the flood.