Lost Moon

by Dana Davis

  “Yeah, sorry. My head’s in such a fog, I nearly forgot about her again.”

  Larisa offered a sympathetic smile. “I know, sweetness. Your head will clear up soon. Drink.” She pushed the canteen to Patrice’s lips. The woman obeyed without a protest or even a quip.

  “You think we can find them from the Hollow of the Dead?” Patrice said after a particularly long drink.

  That thought had rolled around in the back of Larisa’s mind, despite her doubts. “Better than doing nothing. We can try tonight. Nyanan is probably less attentive when she’s sleeping.”

  Patrice focused on Jakon. “Assuming she does sleep.”

  “She is still a person, Third. Flesh and bone.”

  “So is Kepriah, but her scepter allows her to stay awake for a few days. Could Nyanan have that kind of power, too?”

  “Doubtful, Noble. I have never heard stories of such powers. She has surprised us, I know, and might stave off sleep an extra day with herbs, but she should not be able to do that for extended periods the way First can. The Faytools are stronger than any who yield magic without them. Otherwise, they would be useless to your task.”

  Larisa nodded and noticed that Patrice’s head moved up and down slightly. She offered her younger sister a warm smile. “See. Your head is already better.”

  “Maybe. But I still feel like crap.”

  Larisa and Jakon chuckled. They helped Patrice to her feet and walked her around a bit, despite her objections. She grunted and cursed much like Kepriah would have, but at least she kept moving.

  They would have to go through this with each of the others and Larisa fought a groan at that thought. Too many patients for one inexperienced healer. And now with leadership on her shoulders, she worried more about Kepriah, if that was even possible. The image of her older sister being drained of magic set her nerves on edge and her mind to a near panic. The coming storm did nothing to help matters. Things would get worse if they all fell ill. Much worse. With a lot of effort, she pushed the fear and doubts away and focused on her duties.

  Chapter 28

  Jabber shit on a hot day! What in hell and Hollow is going on? Kepriah’s head ached something terrible and her mind seemed in a fog. Her limbs were unresponsive and her mouth felt like a cotton patch. A dull ache came from her left shoulder, as if she had been jabbed.

  She was vaguely aware of something wrapped around her body and being draped her over a jabber. The jostling exacerbated the pain in her head. She fought to stay quiet as she opened her eyes. The ground swayed beneath her, making her nauseas, and all she could see were the jabber’s legs and a man’s boot in the stirrup. She managed to twist her head to see behind them but the trail was empty. Whoever carried her was at the back of this entourage so no one would see her movements. She hoped.

  As the fog in her head began to lift, she realized someone had strapped her inside a blanket like a bloody sausage. No wonder she could not move, could not even get a hand free. Jabber shit! Had bounty hunters gotten her? Fates’ bones, I cannot very well do a hoisting without my head, now can I? And what of her sisters? Panic threatened and she fought it down enough to realize that she would sense their suffering or worse, even through the weakened link. Her sisters were still alive. The best she could tell, Patrice was unconscious. From the amount of worry Kepriah received from Larisa, that one had to be awake. Larisa would be able to sense her, even at a distance, so she did her best to send reassuring thoughts.

  A woman’s voice found her ears and she slammed her eyes shut. Her thoughts sprinted back to her own predicament and she ordered herself to think. There were only two female bounty hunters that she knew of and neither worked for the bloody royals. Some hunters had enough sense not to get caught up in royal bickering and backstabbing. Besides, both women knew Kepriah from past dealings. But they were bounty hunters, and the right amount of coin could make one turn in her own mother.

  The scepter. It would be nearby. Panic receded when she felt its power. Kepriah opened her eyes just a crack and shifted her head carefully to count five jabbers in front of her. Not bounty hunters. Too many. And there was no sign of Jakon or the other men from her group.

  With her mind, she reached out to her scepter again. It was close, probably tucked away on this jabber’s saddle. With another turn of her head, and a lot of silent cursing from the pain, she finally caught a glimpse of it. The large, blue jewel peeked out from a blanket on the jabber’s rump, but she did not dare call for it. That will wait until I know exactly who in hell and Hollow I’m dealing with. Besides, I cannot hold it bound up like a bloody sausage.

  That female voice found her ears again, this time bringing familiarity with it, though she could not make out the words. Where have I heard that voice before? I know this woman. Think, Kepriah. Jabber shit on a hot day! If only the fog in her head would go away completely. If only she had some water to quench her thirst. They must have used hedgegrass on her. Kepriah remembered feeling this way after a healer sewed up her shoulder. He had administered a mixture of hedgegrass just before he put in fifty-three stitches. She had not felt the needle as it pierced her raw flesh, but the headache and thirst after she woke was almost as bad. Or so she had always told herself.

  Nausea rose again and she wished they would just stop moving. The man who carried her shifted her on the saddle and sent a renewed stabbing through her temples. She clenched her jaw to keep from moaning and swallowed back the bile that threatened to come up. I will not vomit. Not now.

  Thankfully, the man got her where he wanted her and she only had to deal with the rhythm of the jabber’s steps again. Blood rushing to her head made things worse, but she ignored the pain as best she could. The blanket cushioned her hips or else she would have a vicious bruise where she bounced against the saddle. She looked around again. The trees were thinner here, so she seemed to be heading south now, not east. The air smelled of rain

  All I need is to get soaked. That would make this day just sarding perfect. The blanket might keep her dry initially, but she would have a hell of a time breaking free once it was full of water. And she did not know if her Trine powers would keep her from getting ill. The scepter heals and Sorinieve lived for centuries so maybe there is hope for me. If I can just shed these damn constraints.

  Anger swelled again and she fought to keep her emotions under control. Larisa worried over her enough for the both of them and the last thing she needed was to panic her middle sister. Wherever they were, at least they were alive and unharmed.

  The question of bounty hunters flicked into her head again and she shoved it away with as much force as she could muster. Too many in this party for bounty hunters, remember? How long have we been traveling? How long have I been out? They did not have a lot of time to locate that boy they had been after, the one from the visions. And what of Gail? If she were unharmed, would she bolt again?

  Kepriah’s eyes found her scepter, giving her strength to endure, she hoped, and she focused inward. There did not seem to be any injuries to her body, except that her head hurt like hell and her face and feet were bloody cold. A crack of thunder sounded above and the rider clicked his tongue to urge the startled jabber on. The quickened pace left Kepriah’s head bobbing and her neck sore from trying to steady it. A man’s voice ordered them to a nearby farmhouse.

  Jabber shit! Fates’ bones and sarding whores! When I get out of this bloody wrap, I am going to beat the shit and pus out of someone. A frustrated moan threatened to escape so she clenched her teeth as tightly as she dared. Her head felt like a rag doll’s bouncing in a child’s hand. Finally, the jabber slowed then stopped. Thank the Moirai.

  The jabber knelt and Kepriah thought for a moment the rocking would toss her right onto her face but the rider must have kept a grip on her. She slammed her eyes shut again. The rider scooped her up without too much trouble and handed her off to another man. The scepter pulled at her as she moved away from it but the pull did not last long. Someone must have followed with it in hand,
or else got an eyeful when it floated after her, as it always did when she strayed too far. Thankfully, its magic would not work for anyone else.

  She kept her eyes shut as footsteps mounted three wooden steps and crossed a wooden plank floor. A porch? A pause as a door creaked open then the footsteps continued. The steps were soon muted, a rug perhaps. A turn right, another few steps, a left turn.

  “Put her there,” a man ordered.

  Within heartbeats, Kepriah found herself on the floor on her back, still wrapped in the blanket and unable to move anything but her head and feet. Damn it! The place smelled stale, as though abandoned for several months. Did she dare open even one eye? Dare to see who had stolen her away? Yes. She dared that and more. Slowly, she opened her lids to find herself alone in a darkened room. Dim light peeked in through the window’s dirty glass. No one had bothered to shutter it. Dark clouds filled the sky and thunder rattled the panes. Lantern light now brightened the hallway and Kepriah looked to the door. Her scepter leaned against the frame and she prepared her mind to call for it.

  That’s when a shadow filled the doorway. A tall woman wearing trousers and a cloak. Kepriah slammed her eyes shut but she was too late. The woman saw her. She started to call on her scepter.

  “I would not do that if I were you,” the woman said in a whispered tone.

  Her head had cleared and she now recognized the voice. “Honor?” Her own was raspy, her throat still parched. Why would Honor have taken her?

  There was a hesitation and Honor whispered something that sounded like a curse. The next moment the voice was like syrup. “Yes, Noble. How nice of you to remember me. That hedgegrass should have kept you out much longer than this. Now, you be a good girl and lie still and I will not dose you again.” She turned her head and said to someone, “Get her some water.”

  Kepriah struggled against her bonds but the blanket was too tight.

  “Now, what did I just tell you?” Honor’s voice sounded like a mother scolding a disobedient child.

  As she approached, Kepriah made out the dart in one hand. “Wait.” She would be no good to anyone unconscious, least of all herself, and she was certain another dose would knock her out. “I will keep still.” She desperately wanted something to drink.

  Honor knelt beside her and narrowed golden eyes. “See that you do. I have a whole flagon of hedgegrass and I do not need your cooperation to administer it.” She held up the dart to emphasize her words then glanced at the doorway. “Guess that scepter of yours is why you are awake so soon.”

  Thank the Moirai. “Why have you brought me here? What about my sisters and Jakon and the others?” She could not imagine Honor harming her own grandson.

  The desert woman put a hand up to stop the questions. “They will have headaches to deal with when they wake but be no worse for wear.”

  A gray-haired man, obviously beyond his prime, delivered a lantern, which he placed on the mantle. “Chimneys are probably clogged, ma’am. Not safe to light fires.”

  “That is fine. At least we will not freeze to death inside. This place looks to have all its parts.”

  “Yes, ma’am. The ceiling should hold even in the strongest storm. Good carpentry, if I may say so.” As if to accent his words, a bright flash, followed by a loud clap of thunder, shook the windowpanes again. “I had better get to my watch.” When Honor said nothing, he turned on his heels and left.

  Another man, even older than the first, brought a cup of water, asked if Honor needed anything else, then disappeared down the hall. The men did not look familiar but Kepriah knew they had trained as warriors, even if they were getting on in years. Their gaits told her that much. And they were not from the desert. Honor probably picked them up nearby. Desperate, war-weary men needing jobs.

  Kepriah drank greedily as Honor held the precious liquid to her lips. The woman supported her head much as a healer would have done. Once she had drained the cup, she said, “I do not understand.”

  “Of course.” Honor put the cup on the floor and sat back on her heels. “You are too young and inexperienced.”

  Kepriah took exception to that remark and the condescending tone but she held her tongue. She had seen more than most on Selenea, and the woman who raised her had not believe in coddling. Kepriah had killed her first man by age eleven. A robber decided he wanted more than goods and coin and tried to take Kepriah as a slave, but she had used the knife hidden beneath her pillow and stuck it in his gut. Two years later, her mentor, her friend, and the only mother she had ever known, was dead of heart failure.

  If she were alive, Veldere would whip me for this predicament I have gotten myself into, even at my age. She fought a sigh as Manry’s memory surfaced and she focused accusing eyes on Honor. “What in hell and Hollow are you doing out here?” she said with more than a little venom in her voice. “And why have you restrained me?”

  Her head rang with a sound slap and she tasted blood. Her tongue hurt where she had bitten it. She sucked on the wound and tried to keep her anger under control. At least her headache had receded somewhat, or that slap might have her puking right now.

  “Temper, temper, girl.” There was a hint of danger in Honor’s voice now. “You will speak to me with the respect one of my station deserves.” Keeping quiet seemed to be in Kepriah’s best interest just now so she held her tongue, difficult as that was to do. “Very good. Now, since I cannot seem to get the scepter away from you, I decided to get you and it away from your sisters.”

  Break up the Trine. Make us vulnerable. But why?

  “I had not planned on you seeing me just yet, Kepriah of Landerbury. You were supposed to be asleep. But now that you know who stole you away, I may as well tell you the rest. I’m certain that brain of yours will figure it out, anyway. You may be young but you are a bright one. It is simple really.” She leaned close to Kepriah’s face and her hot breath smelled stale. “I want your powers. The Trine’s powers.”

  “Get in line, Honor,” Kepriah uttered, and she thought of Nyanan, yet another woman after her powers. She was in no mood for this. “You cannot have them. The Trine must do the hoisting. You know that. You trained us for bloody sakes.”

  “Of course I know that. But three inexperienced little girls have no business using such potent magic.” Her voice had taken on more of an edge. “If nothing else, you proved your incompetence back in the desert.”

  Realization hit Kepriah like an anvil in the gut and her heart raced like a terrified jabber. She felt light-headed as she realized the terrible mistake she had made. “You are Nyanan,” she breathed, barely able to get out the words.

  Honor sighed. “I knew you were bright.”

  “But why?” Kepriah said when she found her voice again. “We are the chosen Trine, Honor.” She refused to use the woman’s other name, the one that made her knees turn to water.

  “I explained that to you before. Have you forgotten our little visits in the Hollow of the Dead?” The smile on Honor’s face bordered on insanity.

  Why did Honor’s people not figured out who she was? Especially Jakon. Unless he was in on it. But Kepriah could not let herself believe that. She fought a shiver of terror, the same feeling she got right before charging into battle, and her bowels felt full. Hopefully, she would not shit herself like she had done so many times in battle.

  Yes, she remembered most of what happened in the Hollow but she had no control in that awful place without her sister’s help. Her magic had been too weak then. But I am stronger now. Could she hold her own now with the scepter? She fought against her restraints but it did no good. I have to get free. Somehow. Suddenly, she felt Patrice’s heightened emotions mix with Larisa’s. Her Earth sister was now awake and not enjoying her predicament one bit. Worry slammed into Kepriah’s senses and she strangled a grunt at the onslaught. Even at this distance, she could feel her sisters clearly.

  Honor cocked her head to one side. “I see you do remember. Very good. That saves me explanations. Though, I do not owe you a
ny. But it would be very bad manners not to let you know what I expect of you.”

  The fullness in Kepriah’s bowels had faded but she could use a piss. “Honor, I need to use the shitbucket.”

  “Do you now?” The elder pursed her lips and blew out a quick breath. “Well, I cannot have one of the Trine soiling her pants like an infant, now can I?”

  Heat filled Kepriah’s face as she tried with all her might to keep her temper under control. What she really wanted was her scepter, and she had to hold it to get it to work. Or did she? With as much nonchalance as she could muster, she sent her thoughts out to the scepter and tried to get it to attack Honor, knock the woman out, disable her, anything. Her palm vibrated but she could not get the scepter to do her bidding. No sense having it come to her if she could not yet grasp it. If she tried, Honor might tie it somewhere and dose her again.

  Once my hands are free—

  “All right,” Honor said, interrupting Kepriah’s thoughts. “Let me see what I can do.” She retrieved a shitbucket from another room and shut the door. Then she untied the ropes that bound Kepriah’s lower body, rolled the blanket up to her waist, and started to unfasten her belt.

  “I need my hands, Honor.”

  “You think I was born stupid, girl?”

  “I will not be undressed and put on a shitbucket like a bloody child.”

  “Then you can soil yourself.”

  Kepriah mulled that over. She really did have to piss. A battle camp took away any modesty and Kepriah had lived in plenty, but being treated like a child made her blood boil. She bit back anger and nodded.

  “Do not try to kick me, girl. I will put you out.” Honor motioned to the dart that lay nearby.

  Kepriah nodded again and allowed Honor to get her trousers around her ankles. The woman lifted her with amazing strength, especially for such an aged woman, and put her onto the shitbucket. With her entire top half still secured in the bloody blanket, Honor had to hold her, or else she would have tipped over. She thought about kicking the woman but then what would she do? Try to run with her top half bound and trousers around her ankles? No, I need to be patient, wait for the right time.