Lost Moon

by Dana Davis

  This woman terrified Patrice and she cradled her ring hand in her other one to keep them both from trembling.

  Honor must have realized her uneasiness because she flipped a dismissive hand. “Do not fret. I will send them to the river when I am finished with them, and they can get on with whatever miserable existence awaits them in the next life.”

  Patrice thought of her sisters. They must be terrified I’m not with them now. I’ll be no good to them this way, split in two. Damn it. She calmed the tree in her mind, got her voice under control, and said, “It’s not your place to interfere, Honor. You have your own future life waiting.” Reincarnation had always fascinated her and she now wondered just what her future lives would bring. Would she go back to Earth? Would she be reborn here on Selenea? “All you have to do is step into the river.” Honor eyed her but said nothing. “How did you cross it, anyway?”

  Honor smiled. “That is a secret only the Guardian and I know.”

  “Where is he?”

  “You are asking too many questions, girlie. You just sit and let me think.” When Patrice remained standing, Honor stood, put a hand on her shoulder, and forced her down onto a boulder. “When I tell you to do something, I expect you to obey.”

  Patrice decided not to rile the woman any further and concentrated on her ring, but she couldn’t sense her sisters. The link was still broken. Her powers didn’t work here and she couldn’t do anything without Larisa. Or could she? Her body waited back in the living world. I’m still connected. And her sisters would be searching for her. Maybe I can get a message to them.

  The more she concentrated on her ring, the wearier she became, until she wanted to curl into a ball and cry herself to sleep, but she held back the tears and forced herself to wait. Stay calm. They won’t stop looking for you. Please, find me. Please, bring me home.

  ****

  “Anything?” Kepriah said. Her patience had faded but she kept her anger tucked away for now. Larisa did not deserve her wrath so she decided to wait. And watch.

  They stood this side of Soul River as Larisa mingled among the wandering spirits, those who had strayed from the river’s edge without the Guardian to guide them. Larisa had a regal air about her that was unmistakable now. Her powers had grown, just as Kepriah’s had, but something had changed within her, something as deep as her spirit.

  “Got it!” Larisa finally said.

  Kepriah stepped to her and followed her gaze into the muddy river. Faces drifted past in fewer and fewer numbers while those wandering the shore grew.

  “See that shimmer, Kepriah? Of course not. But I do and I know how to cross this river now.”

  “Without killing us both, I hope.”

  “Trust me.” Larisa held out her hand and Kepriah took it, trying not to show any hesitation. Within seconds, Larisa uttered something that caused the river to wave and swirl in an odd manner. Muddy water pushed to one side then the other, until it moved to create two walls guarding a soggy path across the river bottom.

  “You parted the bloody river, Larisa.” Kepriah had done that herself in Donigere, in the world of the living, but this was the famous river, the one the Moirai controlled, the river of the dead. Soul River.

  “Yes,” Larisa said in an unimpressed tone. “Let us go.” Her grip on Kepriah’s hand tightened and she started across.

  Kepriah’s heart slammed against her chest, and she tried not to look at the murky walls that pulsed on either side. One mistake and the entire trench would fill with the mystical water, taking Larisa and her on the journey to their next lives. Yet there could be no next life without a world to come back to. That got her feet pumping and she ended up pulling Larisa along behind her, quickly getting them to the other side and helping her sister up the steeper bank.

  Once they were out of the river’s path, Larisa uttered something that let the water rush along just as before. She then raised her talisman and spoke another magical oddity. The wandering souls turned to her and she beckoned them to follow. One by one, they stepped into the water and drifted toward their new futures.

  After the last soul stepped into the river, Kepriah whistled. “Remind me never to cross you in death, sister.”

  Larisa chuckled and moved toward a strange outcropping of rocks as she spoke. “As we crossed the river I got a vision and learned what Honor was trying to keep from me. A dandy of a vision, I must say.” She started in another direction and Kepriah jogged to catch up. “Stay close, Kepriah. I do not want to have to rescue two sisters.”

  Kepriah hid a smile. Her middle sister certainly had grown into her title of Second Noble. The underworld was the talisman’s domain, Larisa’s realm. “Do not worry about me. I have no intention of being dead anytime soon.”

  They stopped just before a tall outcrop of amber spires. As Kepriah looked closer, she could see the Guardian’s still body trapped inside one of the spires. “Like a bloody insect,” she uttered in amazement.

  “Yes. Stand back, please.”

  Kepriah kept her distance and her scepter ready, though she had no idea what she could do to help if Larisa needed it. Her blonde sister cradled the talisman in her hand and uttered a stream of ancient words as she focused on the Guardian. After several minutes, Larisa began to sweat and tension tapped at Kepriah’s senses, but she would not break the other woman’s concentration. So she stood by and waited. And waited some more. Just when she thought Larisa would collapse, the spire cracked down the middle and opened enough to fit their hands inside. Together they pried open the Guardian’s amber casket until he fell out.

  Kepriah reached to help him up but Larisa caught her arm. “No,” she said in a breathless tone. “Do not touch him.”

  “Oh. Right.” She had forgotten for a moment just who this creature was. I have to be more bloody careful down here.

  The Guardian huffed and spat but finally lurched to his feet, red eyes focused on Larisa. “My thanks to you, Trine sister. I am in your debt. Name your favor.”

  Larisa smiled and proceeded to tell him exactly what she wanted.

  Impressed, Kepriah clapped her on the back. “Could not come up with a better idea myself. You would make a fine opponent.”

  “Do not praise me, yet. We still have a sister to rescue and two worlds to save.”

  Chapter 42

  Weariness and pain closed in on Patrice until she thought she could no longer stay upright. By sheer will, she remained unbroken. Honor grabbed her arm again and slammed into her for the fifth consecutive time. And for the fifth time, Patrice cried out in agony at the fire that set on her skin, or whatever form she existed in here. It felt like skin. And the pain felt real. Her ring flared again and she held her gaze on it, praying the Moirai would keep Honor from merging their spirits so the dead woman could get back to the living. After a few seconds, the pain receded enough for Patrice to think, leaving her with labored breath and a bruised feeling from head to toenails.

  “You bloody Trine bitch!” Honor cried as she stumbled back and fell onto the boulder. “You need me. If you take me inside you, all my knowledge will belong to you. All my power. Why are you being so stupid?”

  Patrice teetered but refused to fall down. “You have no power anymore. You’re dead, remember? Dead! Jakon killed you. I didn’t agree with his actions at the time but I’m beginning to think he did the right thing. Keep this up and I’ll miss the hoisting. Where will that leave you when both Selenea and Earth get obliterated?” She shivered at that thought.

  “You can go back to your body as soon as you accept me. Like I took those other spirits into myself, you can take me in.”

  Like hell I will. Patrice doubted she would be the one in control if Honor merged with her. She doubted that very much. I just need to stall just a little longer. During the third of Honor’s body slams, she had received a vision. I probably willed it to come to me out of sheer panic. The vision appeared a bit fuzzy but would lead to her escape. If I can survive long enough.

  She let Honor pr
attle on about how powerful she was and how her spirit would enhance Patrice’s own. The elder seemed just as exhausted by these encounters. She’s stalling until she’s strong enough to try again. Patrice concentrated on the ring and willed a vision of her sisters, until something familiar tickled her senses. Larisa! Had to be. She focused harder and found that she could sense both sisters. Worry, anger and fear from them caressed her. They were in the Hollow now. Somewhere. Thank the Moirai!

  Honor stumbled to her feet again, and Patrice didn’t know if she could take another onslaught of the woman’s spirit without giving in. The last thing she needed was Honor’s vile essence in her body. Fear prompted her to hasten her task and she sent her feelings out to Larisa, fear, anger, frustration, every emotion she could muster, funneling them into the ring, while at the same time calling on her wind powers and the Moirai to protect her. Her ring had never worked like that in the Hollow but something was about to change. She could feel it.

  Honor staggered toward her and reached out but Patrice pulled back. “Do not fight me, girl. This is best for us both.” With a sudden surge of strength, the dead woman lunged for her, grabbing her arm.

  Terror filled Patrice and, at that moment, a magical word spilled from her lips. The air spun around her like a dust devil. With what strength she had left, she sent it out to encase Honor’s spirit and held the dead woman, ignoring the screams that rose above the spinning winds.

  It wasn’t until someone waved a hand in front of her face that she realized Larisa had found her. Her sister’s lips moved in some silent order but she couldn’t make it out. “What?”

  Larisa moved her mouth close to Patrice’s ear. “Hold her! Just a while longer!”

  Patrice concentrated with a trembling body to keep Honor bound in her power. Kepriah stood nearby, watching, but said nothing. Just when Patrice thought she would collapse from exhaustion, several spirits glided up and surrounded the woman. She gave a questioning gaze to Larisa, who nodded. With great relief, Patrice drew her power back, leaving one disoriented and pissed off dead woman. Pain and exhaustion flooded back and she staggered.

  Strong hands latched onto her and held her upright. “I have you,” Kepriah said.

  Honor got her senses and started for Patrice again, but Larisa barred her way. “Your time here is finished. You need to move on.”

  “I will do no such thing.” Golden eyes evaluated Larisa. “You will be as good as your sister. Perhaps better.” Honor reached for Larisa.

  Larisa, calm as Patrice had ever seen, held up a palm. “No. You will not have me or anyone else. That is not how the Moirai designed this world.” With that, she stepped aside and motioned to the waiting spirits.

  Evidently, Honor hadn’t realized what Second Noble intended until that moment. Her eyes grew wide and she started to run. Too late. The spirits clamped onto her like leeches onto flesh and hauled her, flailing and screaming, toward the Guardian.

  He nodded to Larisa and waited until the spirits towed the protesting Honor out of earshot before saying, “This debt is paid and you are welcome here, Trine. May the Moirai be with you in your task to save the worlds.” He glided away.

  “Let us get our bloody asses out of here,” Kepriah said.

  Patrice tried to stand on her own, but her legs wouldn’t hold her weight without help. She grimaced as Kepriah tightened her hold. “Where did they take Honor?”

  Larisa stepped to one side of Patrice and took her arm as Kepriah held her other one. “To the river. She is to be reborn.”

  They made their way to Soul River and watched as Honor’s face, contorted in fear, bubbled up, popped, then reappeared as the current moved her along. The guardian, just as he did with numerous others, touched Honor’s spirit to quell the protests. The Trine watched the river until they could no longer see the woman’s spirit.

  Larisa got a nod of approval from the guardian. “It is done,” she said as she turned to Patrice, who leaned against Kepriah for support now. “Back to your bodies.”

  Patrice felt the impact of spirit into body but exhaustion took her straight into darkness, and when she awoke, it was daylight. Larisa loomed over her, checking her vitals. “How long have I been out?”

  “Just one night.” Larisa smiled and her disheveled, golden braid fell over her shoulder.

  “A very long night.” Kepriah came into view. “You missed lunch.”

  “No wonder I’m hungry.” Patrice stood with her sisters’ help and they guided her from her blankets to a nearby chair.

  “You sit here and relax,” Larisa ordered. “I will send for some food.”

  Patrice watched her leave the room. “She’s gotten very domineering lately.”

  Kepriah laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “What she did in the Hollow—that was amazing.”

  “Yes. She has grown stronger. We all have.”

  Patrice nodded, remembering her own victory in resisting Honor. “Any visions on the hoisting?”

  “Not yet. But we are planning to give it a bloody good try again today. You up for it?”

  “Hell, yes. I’m all for getting this whole thing over with.” She stretched and realized she didn’t feel any pain. She eyed Kepriah. “You heal me last night?”

  “Your misery nearly clapped us over until I got at you with the scepter. What in hell and Hollow happened there?”

  “She tried to merge with me. Hurt like hell.” She swallowed hard, not wanting to remember the pain Honor had inflicted on her.

  Kepriah actually winced and placed a brief hand on her shoulder. “She will not cause any more trouble, little sister. We watched her spirit go down the river before leaving the Hollow, remember?”

  Patrice nodded. “I don’t think she knew any more about the hoisting than what she’d already told us. From what I gathered, she was just trying to keep Larisa from knowing about the talisman’s power over the spirit world until she could figure out how to get back to this one.” Despite everything she had experienced, Patrice grinned. “The look on her face when she realized Larisa had won was priceless.”

  “You were not exactly a do-nothing,” Larisa said from the doorway. She motioned a woman carrying a tray of food inside. “Put it on the table, please.”

  “Yes, Royal.” The woman curtseyed and left after taking care of her task.

  Patrice’s eyebrows lifted. “Royal?”

  “Damon made a few—suggestions—while we were away.”

  “Obviously. Where’s Jakon?”

  “Taking care of the throne room. We have a wedding to perform, remember?”

  “Shit,” Patrice uttered. “I totally forgot.” She started to get up.

  “Uh-uh.” Larisa wagged a finger. “You eat first.”

  Patrice eyed the food and settled back down, her stomach aching to be filled. “Don’t mind if I do.”

  While she ate, her sisters briefed her on the upcoming royal ceremony. Short, but with as much elaboration as they could afford given their time constraints. According to Jakon’s calculations, they were down to three days. Three days. That’s all we have left. The hope was that once Gail and Damon married, they would know what to do and could get directly to the hoisting. Something nagged at the back of Patrice’s mind but she couldn’t quite get at it.

  “What’s wrong?” Larisa placed a hand on Patrice’s forehead for the third time since she began eating.

  “Will you stop that? I’m fine. Really.”

  Her middle sister crossed her arms. “I know something is bothering you. Do not deny it.”

  “When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

  That seemed to satisfy both her sisters and Larisa nodded. “All right. Let us get washed up. Our new dresses for the ceremony are on their way over and we need to look presentable.” Her gaze drifted up and down Kepriah. “You will wear a dress today.”

  Kepriah threw her head back and laughed. “You have finally grown into your healer skin, my dear sister.” She winked. “I was
planning to wear skirts for the ceremony. I do know a thing or two about royals, remember?”

  A smile crept onto Larisa’s lips. “I have been a bit overbearing of late. Guess some of my mother survived in me after all.”

  Patrice felt no sadness from her middle sister now. In fact, what touched her senses seemed more like pride. And she hated to admit it, but she actually liked weddings. And she especially welcomed today’s, with hopes it would also take her mind from the growing cold that threatened to put this entire world into an eternal ice age. We don’t have much time left. She ate faster.

  Chapter 43

  The throne room had been scrubbed to a shine. Dyed stones and various colored glass fragments set into the royal chairs glistened against the dark blue fabric of the cushions. The original jewels were recreated according to Damon’s instructions. One day real jewels would decorate the royal chairs, but for now, they had to improvise.

  And Damon’s followers do not seem to mind at all. Kepriah took solace in that thought.

  Tailors and seamstresses—the ones not making wedding clothes—had worked through the night to reupholster the furniture and sew new draperies. Whatever tapestries they had salvaged from the ravages of war and time now hung on the walls, and a patched blue carpet runner extended out from the throne chairs to divide the large room in half. Two giant fireplaces heated the room. It was snowing today, when it should be warm and green.

  Gail stood just outside the open doors, waiting for her entrance. She looked nervous and Kepriah motioned for Larisa to see to the girl. The last thing they needed was a pair of royal cold feet. Damon stood before the throne, clothed in his house colors. A sash with the dark blues and greens of Abandoned City, just as Gail’s dress displayed along the waist, crisscrossed his chest. Tailors and seamstresses had accomplished so much in a short time. Impressive. Very impressive.