Lost Moon

by Dana Davis

  “That was amazing,” Larisa said. Excitement poured from her. “Put some logs on the fire, will you?”

  Patrice accommodated her, using air whips to move and stack logs into the large hearth. With barely a movement on Larisa’s part, the logs burst into flames. This was not the slow burn of Larisa’s usual fire-starting skills or the haphazardness of a novice. This was a deliberate, explosive fire that caused Kepriah to curse. They stepped back until Larisa brought the flames down to a manageable size. Her experiment left the mantle stones scorched and Jakon stamped out sparks that had lighted on the rug.

  Patrice followed her sisters back to the open window. In the dim light of the aurora and the rising moons, she watched as several saplings grew to their full stature in a matter of seconds. Kepriah’s doing. And these were no small trees. Patrice didn’t know what they were called but they towered at least three stories high.

  “Shit,” she uttered, and she suddenly had more respect for her eldest sister. She and Larisa grinned at Kepriah and the woman smiled back.

  Jakon cleared his throat and they turned to him, in unison, as a unit. He bowed his head. “I am honored to serve the Trine.”

  Patrice couldn’t help her excitement now. “Did you see that, Jakon? We’re fucking powerful!”

  He then moved past her to close the window. “As it should be, Third.”

  Nervousness added to Patrice exhilaration as she thought of something else, and she walked to the bed. She sat cross-legged on the mattress and stared into the ring, stilling the tree in her mind in mere seconds. With her senses, she reached out and tried to locate Earth. She felt her sisters here in this world. She sensed Jakon, and though he had no magic, the air around her tingled with it. But no matter how hard she tried, how hard she concentrated, she could not sense Earth. Not even a whisper. The doorway was closed, just as Sorinieve had told her, and her former home unreachable.

  Larisa and Kepriah embraced her and the three wept together.

  Chapter 37

  Honor paced, careful not to get too close to Soul River in case the Guardian got any ideas about shoving her into the water. When I get my hands on that Larisa of Donigere, I will ring her pretty little neck. The gall of Larisa to just up and leave during their conversation. The girl had called her, then ignored what she had to say. Has Larisa no shame? Well, that is youth. Always in a hurry.

  Still, Nyanan deserved respect, Honor deserved respect. Those names alone were enough to illicit fear and obedience from people all over Selenea. What has gotten into those girls? The other two had seemed surprised when Larisa whisked them back to the living. Honor had caught their expressions just before they faded from sight.

  She shook her head. They are too young for this task. I always said that, did I not? What were the Moirai thinking? Surely, the Moirai could hear her thoughts. But just in case, her gaze drifted around as she spoke. “What are You thinking? Can You hear me? I am dead, You know. The least You could do is show Yourselves.” Nothing. She grunted.

  The Guardian stole glances at her as he encouraged several recently deceased into the water. They obeyed without protest and the river swept them away.

  Stupid oafs. If it were not for the magic she possessed, Honor might have been just like them. Dumped right into Soul River and flung into her next life without so much as an opinion on where she ended up.

  The river began to lull her again and she took a step toward it. Then another. Her resistance waxed, thanks to a surge of fear, and she retreated, putting herself a good distance from the babbling wetness. Faces rose and popped out of existence but she took little notice of them. Instead, she focused on her next meeting with Larisa. The girl will surely come back. If not, I will seek her out. Honor vowed not to leave this world without participating in the hoisting. Whether those idiot girls like it or not.

  She flopped down onto a boulder and watched as the Guardian crossed the river again and again, sometimes coaxing the dead to follow and other times patting the occasional squalling soul as it drifted along in the current. An odd thing to do but it seemed to have a calming effect on the screamers. She had given up asking the Guardian questions he would not answer. In fact, he said nothing to her now, only glanced her way on occasion with those eerie red eyes of his.

  The dead took no notice of her as they passed. She had been stealing power from them, meager as it was, but would have to wait until the Guardian was gone before she did that again. Does he know what I am doing? The desire for more magic grew as she eyed new souls arriving like a steady stream of shoppers to a popular merchant’s stall, and she shoved it down. Patience. Honor had nothing else to do but wait, so she pulled up her knees and rested her chin on them.

  After a while, she became bored watching the Guardian’s repetitive actions, so she got up and crossed to an archway she had discovered earlier. From here, she could see several villages on Selenea. The first that appeared did not interest her so she waved her hand in front of the archway to change the location. It only showed places she had been in her lifetime but it entertained her. No sounds accompanied the images but she did not care. It was something to do while she waited. She waved her hand back and forth until she finally located her desert village.

  Night had fallen and Jakon’s mother, Jesup, was just going to bed. Honor felt a pang of loss. Does she even know I am dead? She shoved her emotions down and waved her hand again, trying to locate the Trine. Damn those girls. Just how long do they expect me to wait?

  As usual, she had no luck locating the Trine through the archway. Probably protected by those Faytools. She could not even get an image of Jakon. He must be so disappointed in me. She had broken her people’s highest law and harmed the Trine. She had not meant to harm them, at first, only take their magic. But they are so damn stubborn and I became careless, impatient. Certainly the Moirai realized that she was far better qualified than those three snot-nosed girls.

  She sighed then frowned as the Guardian walked past, eyeing her on his way. Fool. Does he think I will nibble at his heels like some sheep and trot into the water behind him? Not as long as I have a scrap of resistance.

  Despite her self-assurance that she was in control, death seemed very confusing. Time meant little here, but Honor felt connected to the living world and still had some sense of it. From the visions in the archway, she had been here a short time. But how many days until the hoisting can no longer be performed? There had not been many days left when she tried to wrench Kepriah’s magical secrets from her. That one is strong, a real spitfire. Honor had never met anyone with a mind as tough as that warrior woman.

  She waved her hand over the archway and located her desert village again. It was dark, with only one moon in the sky, and Jakon’s mother was asleep. It appeared to be the same night, or near enough. The moon phase was the same, and Jakon’s mother wore the same nightcap. She did not appear to have aged. Time there seemed to be in step with the Hollow, for now, but it could slip at any moment. As Honor watched her daughter-in-law, she tried to fight a surge of grief, but it overtook her and she put her face in her hands. Her life gone. Everything ripped from her. Why had the Moirai been so cruel? She wept for some time.

  Once she got her composure, she scolded herself for such weakness. I am not finished. I can communicate with the living, with the Trine. How many can do that? The Moirai have not abandoned me.

  Ghost stories floated around every village she had ever visited, but she never saw one of the spirits herself. Even once her powers matured and she had the ability to take control of minds, she never once saw an apparition in the living world. She suspected that most had not the strength to wrench free of this place. Her first, and very frightening, visit here confirmed her suspicions. In fact, she had thought this place might trap her. And I was still alive then!

  She scrubbed a hand across her face, turned to the archway, and brushed her hand across to bring up several images. Every village this side of Forbidding Mountains was in darkness now.

  As
she prepared to seek out Larisa again, she had a suspicion the other two sisters would be close by and she shivered. She actually feared Kepriah now, much to her consternation. Their last encounter, her final day in the living world, Honor had been the one under a spell. The feeling of helplessness did not sit well with her, not at all. Kepriah had wrenched information from her like squeezing water from a sponge. No matter how hard she had resisted, the girl managed to get most of what she wanted.

  How can such a novice make me quiver? But Kepriah did not seem like a novice any longer, at least with some of her new powers. Get a grip on yourself, you daft old woman. Kepriah cannot come here without Larisa. And you have the advantage now. You are dead. The Trine cannot harm you. At least, until Larisa figures out just what her talisman can do down here. That was one of the few things Honor had managed to keep from Kepriah’s probing magic—the talisman’s ability to manipulate the dead. I must not let the Larisa learn about those powers. Larisa could call on any of these dead souls to hinder me. She shivered at that thought. She will not find out that information from me.

  The girl must be asleep by now, making it easier to locate her. But where? Places in the living world often seemed slippery from the Hollow, even with this archway. Another thought invaded her mind, one she had forgotten about, thanks to being dead, and one that might just aid her.

  Has Kepriah learned about Damon? Did the messenger deliver the lineage, as foretold by the visions all those centuries ago? Surely he had by now. If so, the girls were probably at Damon’s. But Larisa had mentioned none of that during her last visit here. Surely, they would have figured out who set up the delivery. Those girls are young but they are bloody smart! Could it be possible that the flatlanders failed? They had been in service many generations but Honor had not heard from or about them in decades.

  Damn it all to the two moons! I should have kept eyes and ears on them. Why was I so careless? Well, I will just have to tell Kepriah myself if she does not already know who her brother is. But if she knows, she would go to find him, yes?

  With renewed hope, Honor sat on the rock and stilled her mind. She focused on the Cities of Sleep, sending out her thoughts in search of Larisa. Surprisingly, she found the girl in just a few minutes, or what she interpreted as minutes, and in her excitement almost lost the connection. Images from the girl’s mind flashed across Honor’s vision. She is asleep. Good.

  Larisa’s current dream focused on Jakon, but Honor spent little time contemplating that. She focused on getting Larisa’s attention. From the Hollow, she could concentrate on anyone who slept, as long as she knew the location, and the person’s image would appear in the archway. For the most part, the living could not see or hear her. The Triad was different and Larisa a miraculous exception. Honor’s powers went farther with Second Noble, allowing her to contact and step into Larisa’s dreams through the Hollow’s archway.

  After what seemed an eternity, she finally got results and pushed through what felt like muddy water, until she was inside the archway and in Larisa’s dream world. The girl turned from gathering herbs in what looked like the village of Donigere before the destruction. The trees were brighter and the sky bluer than Honor remembered of the living world.

  “There you are,” Larisa said, as though she had been expecting someone.

  “You kept me waiting in the Hollow, girl.”

  “And I will keep you waiting a while longer.” Larisa grew a wide smile.

  Honor felt something push her back toward the Hollow and she fought to hang on to the connection. But it was no use and she found herself the other side of the archway, near Soul River, fatigued and angry.

  “Damn her to hell and Hollow.” Anger did not cover her sudden fear, though. Larisa was now stronger than Honor had predicted. She glanced at the Guardian but he simply gave her a knowing look and went back to his work. “This cannot be happening. Not to me.” The longer she was stuck here the more her own voice gave her comfort. She did not think about the fact that she had no actual voice like when she was alive. It sounded the same as always to her and she took solace in that.

  She tried several more times to reconnect with Larisa without success. She attempted to contact Patrice, Kepriah, and even Jakon, but all she managed to do was weaken herself to the point of exhaustion. With nothing else to do but wait for her strength to return or for Larisa to contact her, she rested her head on her knees and wept.

  Chapter 38

  Damon made his speech to just over a hundred loyal followers, as the Trine stood on the small curtain wall ready to demonstrate their powers. Several tailors from the village had made new clothing for them in colors representing their respective magic.

  Kepriah wore a green, silk riding dress with split skirts and a dark blue collar and belt to represent her connection to earth and water. Her sisters flanked her, Patrice in a pale blue and white riding dress and Larisa in red and orange. Combined, they also made up Damon’s house colors, the colors he would extend to the Pewter Throne.

  Kepriah and Patrice had wanted trousers, but Damon convinced them that the Trine should look like royal women, and no royal female would dare put on trousers. So they compromised with the riding dresses. Kepriah had to admit the silk felt nice against her skin, and Hale seemed to like the tight bodice that accentuated her breasts. He gave her the sarding hand sign just moments before they climbed onto the curtain wall and winked, until she waved him back to his duties with a sly grin.

  He stood nearby with several of his guards and gave her an imperceptive smile whenever she glanced his direction. They had another bout of sex play just this morning to relieve Kepriah’s tensions. Patrice had teased her when they broke fast, but Larisa had seemed too preoccupied with her success against Honor to comment. They doubted Honor would cause them further trouble as long as Larisa stayed vigilant.

  Now that Damon and Gail had accepted their fates, they had to get to Abandoned City. No more excuses. No more delays. Cloaks flapped in the frigid wind, not the warm summer breezes that should be appearing this time of year, and snow flurries continued to dance toward the ground. The world was growing colder by the day. If they did not make this hoisting, all of Selenea would end up in ice.

  The small crowd that had camped out on Damon’s once green lawn was still cheering about the marriage announcement and waving, despite the threat of a snowstorm. Gail, who had just finished shouting out her greeting, looked as nervous as Kepriah felt, and Larisa stayed close in case the girl fainted. Damon had an arm around his betrothed’s waist and whispered something into her ear that seemed to put her at ease.

  The two look good together, as though they are fated for union. Kepriah smiled at her silent pun.

  She had kept vigil after sex with Hale, planning their escape in case any followers decided to revolt. But the people looked upon Gail with pride and excitement, no doubt relieved that their landlord had finally chosen a woman to wed. Damon’s father had been loved, and these villagers seemed to have long memories of the royal who offered them sanctuary when others turned them away, even if it had been a profitable move on Danuel’s part. Descendants of their beloved former royal seemed to welcome Gail, despite her humble upbringing, or maybe because of it, and Gail’s presence meant future children for Damon. The people had a true house again. They had hope.

  Damon held up his hands and waited as the crowd trickled into silence. “I have yet another surprise for you, my trusted followers.” His voice sounded muffled in the cold air but Patrice’s magic extended it to even the farthest of followers, carrying his words on the wind. One arm motioned to Kepriah and she stepped forward, wondering if she would be the one to faint instead of Gail. “This is Kepriah of Landerbury, my long-lost sister and member of the royal house, come home at last.”

  She tensed, waiting for the outcry. Much to her surprise, the small crowd cheered again. Gloved hands waved rags and tapped sticks together, just as they had for Gail. Kepriah stood dumbfounded, unable to get her thoughts in any con
sistent order. No one had ever revered her like this.

  “Say something,” Damon told her under his breath.

  “What? We did not rehearse that.” Kepriah was just to stand here with her sisters and look regal, powerful, demonstrate her magic when the time came, and quell hostilities if it led to that.

  “Well, they are expecting it.” He waved to everyone and motioned to Kepriah with a bow. The small crowd roared.

  “Go on, First Noble,” Larisa said with a smile. “Give the people what they want.”

  Kepriah felt her sisters’ nervousness tap against her senses as she stepped forward to the edge of the balcony and placed her gloved hands on the wrought iron railing. She could feel the cold metal even through the wool. Her scepter floated in the air beside her and those standing below grew silent. Her heart pounded in her ears. This was almost as nerve-racking as going into battle.

  She glanced at Damon. “What in hell and Hollow do I say?”

  “Just tell them how glad you are to be home. You will think of the rest.”

  “Great.” Kepriah took a long breath, uttered a few curses toward her brother, which caused him to grin, and gazed down on the villagers. “I, Kepriah of Landerbury, daughter of the Cities of Sleep and sister to Royal Damon, am very glad to be home!” Cheers and whistles greeted her as she turned to her brother. “That sounded ludicrous.”

  He chuckled and motioned her to continue. “Now is as good a time as any for your demonstration.”

  She gripped her scepter, raised it high in the air and waved her sisters over, as the crowd grew silent again. Here goes nothing. “I am also First Noble, sister of the Trine, future savior of Selenea. And these are my sisters. Behold what the Moirai have given us to save our world!”

  With that, they demonstrated their magic just as they had rehearsed with swiftly growing trees, fires bursting from nothing, and mini-tornados flanking the crowd. Kepriah added a small earth tremble as a final accent, amazed at how easy it all seemed now. As they pulled their magic back, the once-cheering crowd grew silent, stunned, except for a few coughs and a baby crying. Kepriah thought they had made a terrible mistake and her sisters’ panic pricked her senses. These were simple villagers and farmers, loyal or not to Damon, and magic was frowned upon. What the Trine had just demonstrated was more magic than anyone had seen in many centuries, longer even. Perhaps it was too much for them to accept.