Lost Moon

by Dana Davis

  “Good.” Kepriah ordered her mount to its knees then turned her head to Patrice. “Get down for a minute. I need to do something.” Patrice obeyed. At Kepriah’s order, the jabber swayed to its feet again, leaving her the sole rider. “You and Larisa wait here with Jakon.”

  She motioned Palith and his men to follow her jabber to a nearby clearing. Once there, she turned her mount to face them. Jakon, her sisters, and Gail would be out of danger but could plainly see and hear her. After a long breath, she lifted her voice above the rising winds. “Anyone who lays a hand on the women in my company will deal with me. That includes captives.”

  Knowing that she would have to reveal her powers at some point, especially since she could no longer carry a sword, she drew her scepter and held it high, allowing it to pull power through her. A magical word pushed from her lips and a blast from the earth below uprooted a fat tree, splintering it. Shards and mud splattered in all directions. She was trying to uproot a smaller bush and toss it about but this was even better, though she had to concentrate not to show her own amazement at how much her strength with the scepter had grown.

  The men gawked and cursed as they reined in uneasy jabbers, and Kepriah managed to keep a smile from her lips. “I accepted you on good standing from my old friend, Palith. If you have decided to break your blood oaths to me then you had better leave now.” She let that threat hang in the air as it sank into the young men’s brains, knowing that none would get far, even with her permission to leave. Not one turned his mount.

  Palith gave her a look of newfound respect, rather than the fear or loathing she expected. Yes, he had definitely suspected something when he saw she no longer carried a sword. He had taken quite a beating over the years, leaving scars on both his cheeks and the backs of his hands and a disfigured nose, but somehow he had not lost his humor and compassion, or his mind for that matter, as some soldiers might have.

  He pulled his jabber up beside Kepriah and made the sign of everlasting honor, a circled fist over his heart, then bent his head toward her. Submission. An honor reserved for gods and liberators of men. The other men saw Palith’s gesture—most likely this was his plan—and did the same.

  Damn it, Palith. Kepriah fought the urge to berate him. Though Patrice might not know what the gestures meant, both sisters caught Kepriah’s discomfort and their reassurance caressed her senses. Thankfully, they kept quiet. With an inward sigh, she relented. What’s done is done. I cannot undo it. Refusing would make her a coward in their eyes and dishonor Palith. He would be forced to kill himself. So now I am a bloody savior? Jabber shit on a hot day. Can things get bloody worse? On the upside, his men will not dare disrespect me now. Which was probably his plan all along.

  None of Palith’s men so much as glanced at Gail. Kepriah clasped a fist over her heart accepting the honor and waited just long enough for her jabber to toss his large head and grunt before turning the beast toward Jakon and the others. There, she ordered her jabber to its knees and waited for Patrice to mount behind her. “Let’s go.”

  Just before they reached the next river, several arrows hissed through the air. One of the men, Rabbit, cried out and fell from his mount. Gail screamed.

  “Get down!” Kepriah ordered her jabber to kneel then shoved Patrice off and dismounted just as an arrow whizzed past her head and struck a tree behind her. Jabber shit!

  Chapter 26

  Kepriah ordered everyone to take cover, then she and Jakon pulled Rabbit to safety with Larisa, Patrice, and Gail on their heels. Three of Palith’s hirelings began firing arrows at the foes. Kepriah let out a string of curses as she started toward the fighting.

  “Where are you going?” Larisa knelt next to the man with an arrow in his chest. Patrice and Gail huddled next to her.

  “Stay here,” Kepriah ordered, in no mood to explain herself.

  Larisa started to move toward her. “But where—”

  “I said stay put.” She turned her back on her sisters’ glares. She motioned Jakon to follow her to Palith and the two stayed low as they moved. Once they reached Palith, Kepriah crouched between the two men. A few more arrow volleys and the other side became quiet. “Do we know how many?”

  Palith’s mouth drew a narrow line beneath stubble. Some of the growth was white, especially near his ears, and lines had deepened around his eyes and mouth. “Two, maybe three.” He brushed calloused fingers across greasy strands of hair.

  Kepriah shook her head. Only ten years her senior, at most, but the traumas of war had caught up with him. They waited as his men scoured the area, and several moments passed before Bendi called out an all clear. He came running toward them carrying an extra bow and quiver, as did his counterpart, a young man Kepriah knew only as Bugger. Many soldiers gave each other nicknames. For some, it was easier to kill if your enemy did not know who was snuffing out his life. Kepriah had never used a nickname.

  She stood and eyed Bendi. “Well?”

  “Three of ‘em.” Red hair stuck out beneath his moth-eaten cap and a much older person peered at Kepriah from behind those pale gray eyes. “Bugger’s arrows got two of ‘em. The other took one from Winker. He tried to crawl away. I stopped him.” He held up his dagger, still wet with blood, as Winker trotted up.

  “You sure there were only three?”

  Winker spoke this time. “Yes, ma’am.” And true to his name, he gave her a quick wink. He was close to Gail’s age. His dark skin was a shade lighter than Jakon’s and he was slight, not even as tall as Kepriah and her sisters, but he had already shown interest in Patrice, despite their obvious age differences.

  “Only three,” Bendi said. “A squirrel cannot cross this bloody mud without leavin’ prints. We covered them bodies with branches. Worms will find ‘em afore long.” The lanky man grinned to reveal dull teeth.

  Bendi had been the first to swear allegiance to Palith, Kepriah had found out during an earlier talk with her old buddy, and hailed from the same area where they had found Gail.

  “Good. Where is the third weapon?”

  Bugger gave her a wry smile that betrayed his usual roughness. “Snapped.” A leather lace secured his shoulder length hair back but several greasy strands hung free. He stood nearly a head taller than Kepriah and had a sturdy, muscular body that betrayed his youth. Young as he was, Kepriah had already decided that she would not want this man as her enemy on a battlefield. “Lucky for us. We stuffed his arrows in Winker’s quiver.”

  She nodded in thought. They must have been out here a while for a bow to break like that. No warrior worth his salt would allow such a mishap, as it could be his last.

  Kepriah reassured the men that they had done well. She made her way back to Larisa just in time to hear her sister say, “I am very sorry but this will hurt.” The woman was just too damned polite. Larisa had apologized to Patrice numerous times when Sorinieve first brought her through the archway. Rabbit cried out as Larisa removed the arrow, then he lost consciousness.

  Kepriah gazed down on his pale, sweat-covered face. “How is he?” This one was spry and she had no doubt he was the fastest runner among them, though that did him no good against the speed of an arrow.

  “He will live. You can heal him now.”

  “Not out here in the open, unless he’s going to die. Is he going to die?”

  “No. The arrow missed his heart. But he has lost a lot of blood.”

  “Stitch him up. I will take care of him when we stop for the night.”

  Larisa gave her a sour look but did not argue. Grimy, deft fingers threaded a needle and began to sew as Gail mopped the blood. The two worked very well together and Kepriah wondered just what had changed in the captive girl to make her help. That’s when she noticed Patrice had gone pale, despite her sun-reddened cheeks.

  “Sit down,” Kepriah told her. She forced her youngest sister onto the ground and pushed the woman’s head between her knees. “Stay like that.”

  Larisa gave Patrice a worried glance but her attention immediately
went back to Rabbit. The healer had grown in the time Kepriah had rescued her. Larisa might have misgivings about her abilities but Kepriah knew a good healer when she saw one. And the way she praised her mother’s herbal skills, that woman must have been one hell of a healer.

  Palith stepped to Rabbit and peered down. He was conscious again and brown eyes gazed up from a face etched with pain. “You will be all right, boy,” Palith said. “Healer Larisa’s doing about the best sewing job I have ever seen.” Rabbit tried to smile but it turned into a wince.

  “Kepriah,” Larisa said without taking her attention from her patient. “He’s starting to fever.”

  “All right.” She let out a sigh. Another delay. “Finish him up and we will take shelter in the first place we can find.” Then I can heal him.

  Larisa finished with her patient, and Patrice recovered quickly this time. They mounted, Palith taking Rabbit on his jabber, and Kepriah led them across the stream. Gail put up no arguments and Kepriah hoped they might have a quiet evening after they made camp. First thing tomorrow, they had to find the elusive village from their visions. They could not waste any more time. Then they would have the arduous task of convincing Gail to join the mysterious boy they had yet to find on the Pewter Throne.

  Kepriah almost rolled her eyes at that thought. The girl would most certainly put up a fight. Well, tough jabber shit. Gail will just have to accept an arranged marriage. She almost laughed. An arranged marriage. The Moirai must have some sense of humor putting her in charge of such a task.

  They had gone but a few hundred feet when the sky began to darken. There was not a cloud around.

  “What is going on?” Larisa said.

  Kepriah took in the growing darkness as she turned her jabber to the west. “I have no sarding idea.” The sun, normally about two hours above the horizon this time of day, had gone below the horizon.

  “Did we miss something?” Bugger muttered. “I know winter days get shorter, but by the Fates’ bones, this is sarding impossible.” One sturdy arm waved toward the west.

  The sky started to grow purple much too quickly for Kepriah’s comfort and the familiar blue star began to show itself. “Jabber shit.” They would have to figure out the reason later. She urged the jabber to its front knees.

  Once Patrice dismounted, Kepriah scrambled off and searched her packs for a sulfur stick and lantern. The others followed her lead and soon they had four lanterns, all that they had with them, lit and dangling from saddles as they stared dumbfounded into the rising darkness.

  Patrice pulled out the clock Honor had given them. The Earth woman seemed distraught when the one around her wrist had stopped working, and she kept this one in her pack. Kepriah wondered why she was so obsessed with time. It was the same each day. Well, until now.

  Patrice held the clock up to one of the lanterns. “It’s only three. It shouldn’t be dark, yet.”

  “You figure that out all by yourself?” Kepriah uttered.

  “Kiss my ass, Kepriah. This stupid trek was your idea, remember? I was happy staying with Jakon’s people. At least they had a few comforts of home. You didn’t even try to convince Honor we weren’t a threat.”

  Kepriah raised a brow at her Earth sister. Lately, they had gotten along, but they still had their disagreements, something Kepriah doubted would ever change. She opened her mouth to put Patrice in her place.

  “Enough,” Larisa reprimanded. There was no humor in her tone. In fact, she sounded very much like a mother scolding her children. She had dismounted with the rest and stepped to Patrice. “You know Nyanan would have caused the desert dwellers problems. We had to leave.” That blonde head swung to Kepriah, soft features dancing in the lantern light. “And right now we need to find shelter.” Larisa crossed her arms. In her waxing confidence as a healer, the woman’s attitude had also become increasingly combative.

  She was right and that irritated Kepriah more than Patrice’s insubordination. The wind picked up and the air grew colder so she ordered everyone back onto the jabbers. They mounted, with only lanterns for light now, and managed to keep the beasts on the narrow trail. Once they got away from the thick trees, Kepriah was about to order them to make camp under the stars, but Palith pointed to a dark shape about fifty feet ahead. Some sort of building. They made their way toward it and found a stone house from an age past. No roof, but it had four walls that would cut the worst of the wind. Points of light, including the dependable blue star, shone above. Someone had created a lean-to between fruit trees that would be the best place to tie the jabbers. Their thick hides kept them warm enough.

  After they got Rabbit settled inside the walls and unloaded the jabbers, Larisa began preparing him for the healing. Palith and Bendi, the red-haired boy who seemed eager to please, took the animals to the lean-to. Jakon and Bugger trudged off to gather wood. The remaining men unloaded the bedrolls as Patrice and Gail started on dinner. The Earth woman had been teaching Gail to read a little bit each night, which seemed to improve the girl’s confidence.

  “Not the best carpentry,” Palith reported when he returned. “But it will do for dumb beasts.”

  “It’s four fifteen,” Patrice announced. “What’s going on?”

  Kepriah followed her sister’s gaze and saw a pale aurora in the sky. We should not be able to see it this far south. “I wish I knew. Any thoughts, Jakon?”

  “I am sorry, Nobles, but this probably has to do with the hoisting. Remember what Honor said? Selenea would come unraveled.”

  “Yes. But she implied that would not happen unless we failed. We still have time.”

  Jakon nodded. “If this keeps up, it will come sooner than anticipated.”

  “Jabber shit!” Kepriah had not thought of that. If the days moved as fast as this night had come upon them, they would not have much time left at all. “This cannot be happening,” she uttered, though she did not think anyone understood her last words. What am I to the Moirai? Some sort of miracle maker? It was bad enough getting thrown into leadership and forced to see to a marriage before saving the world, but now this?

  After the men arranged wood in the stone hearth, or what was left of it, Larisa got a fire started with her talisman. She then stepped to Kepriah. “Rabbit is ready for you.”

  “I wish you had received the healing powers, Larisa. Truly, I do.” Kepriah found it an annoyance. And a distraction from her leadership responsibilities.

  Her middle sister took her arm. “The Moirai have other things in mind. We all have burdens we do not necessarily want.”

  A smirk found Kepriah’s lips. “When did you get so insightful?”

  Larisa pulled her back straight and flipped her long, golden braid over her shoulder. “It comes with healer knowledge. And I have decided I wish to be firstborn.”

  Kepriah laughed at that and leaned into Larisa’s ear. “If I could, I would hand you my rank on a silver platter.”

  “Yes, well, despite what the Moirai have given us, I would settle for your healing powers.”

  “Done. If I ever figure out how to give them to you.”

  “That cannot be done, Nobles.” Even with all her warrior training, Jakon had a way of slipping up unnoticed. Hell, he could probably take a den wolf by surprise.

  “Why not?” Larisa asked as they walked toward Rabbit.

  “Your powers are tied to your Faytools. Kepriah could not break her bond with the scepter, any more than you can sever ties with your talisman or Patrice with her ring.”

  Kepriah watched her youngest sister with Gail. The two talked softly as they prepared food. “Unless we are dead. That’s the only way to break the bond.”

  “Yes, First.” He cocked his head. “I’m here to make certain that does not happen.”

  “What would happen if one of us died, Jakon?” Larisa said. “Who would the Faytool go to?”

  “According to the ancient books, no one, Second. It would cease to hold power. If you fail—”

  “Yes, Jakon,” Kepriah put in. “W
e know what will happen if we fail. And right now, I do not want to think about it. But where did the elders get their information? Who wrote those books? How do you know they are right about everything?”

  “They have never been wrong. But you do not have to believe me, First, just listen to your scepter.”

  “I will. After I take care of Rabbit.” Kepriah stood over the injured man, who was now asleep. Probably for the best. She held the scepter out over his chest as the rest looked on. This time the magic flowed quickly and she healed his wound faster than any others she had mended. Well, hell and Hollow. My powers really are growing. Larisa and Patrice sensed her surprise and she sensed theirs, but she kept her face impassive so the others would not suspect. She had to look strong and in control of everything right now. These men had pledged their loyalty and expected control from their leader. And I need their unwavering loyalty.

  Palith and his men looked dumbfounded. Unlike when she used the scepter to control someone’s will, they would remember that she had healed their mate with magic and the glowing scepter jewels. Just as they remembered the uprooted tree in her first demonstration.

  Like her other patients, Rabbit had cried out when the healing began, but now he seemed grateful and in awe of her. He tried to sit.

  “You stay put.” Larisa forced him back down. “You lost a lot of blood.”

  “That was sarding amazing, ma’am,” Bugger said to Kepriah. One hand rubbed at his head in a gruff manner as he gazed down at Rabbit.

  “Thank you. Now, let’s eat.”

  “It’s not ready, yet,” Patrice said. Even in the dim light of the fire, she looked tired. Exhausted perhaps. Larisa’s concern pressed against Kepriah’s senses and Patrice waved the healer off. “I’m fine.” Then she grinned. “And you’ll be happy to know that Gail is cooking dinner so it’ll be edible.”

  That got everyone chuckling. As they waited for the food, others found chores here and there, but Kepriah kept a worried eye on the sky. How long until dawn? An hour, four? Would they even get a full night’s sleep? And what did the others on Selenea think was happening now? Some villagers kept superstitions close in their beliefs. Would this incite more fighting? Or fear and hatred of neighbors? Which would lead to fighting. And what was happening to Patrice’s world? Would it unravel with Selenea or afterwards?