Dark Moon Daughter

by J. Edward Neill

  “Shivershore.” The Captain stepped into the grass.

  “This is where we entered,” she observed. “Those two boys you killed…their bodies are near.”

  “They would be, had the Uylen not taken them.”

  “Are you…like me?” The question tumbled from her lips.

  “You mean of the old blood? The dark peoples of Archithrope? The destroyers of Niviliath?”

  “I never heard those stories. Not most of them, anyway. But yes. Them.”

  “No,” he said. “I am not.”

  No matter the black hour, she saw the Shivershore landscape better than ever. Beyond the decaying fields, she glimpsed shanties and ramshackle longhouses. The empty dwellings were further reminders that this place was only barely civilized, that dark things could happen here that no law of the north could stop. An uncommonly strong wind shook the night, the sort that gnawed at her neck and threatened to pull the rest of her clothing from her skin. Her only comfort was that the last of Nightmare’s tomblike trees were behind her. And that no Uylen are chasing, she exulted. I am almost free.

  “How much farther?” She felt stronger now, striding behind the Captain into the fields. “How can you see in this darkness? I thought you said you were not like me?”

  No stars glimmered on the fields the Captain walked, only the faintest hint of cloud-veiled moonlight, but he cut through the grasses as briskly as ever. “The Uylen devoured our horses.” He ignored her questions. “No matter. On foot, we will reach our goal before sunrise.”

  “Our goal?” She scurried to catch up with him. “But everyone else is dead. Might we rest?”

  “No.”

  He marched, and she had no choice but to follow. Her throat felt dry and her stomach so empty she thought she might die of it, but the Captain never slowed, and so she tucked the Pages under her arm and tried to keep up. She walked for what felt like an eon. The clouds broke and the open night sky swallowed her whole. The wind cleansed the Nightmare stench from her nostrils and dried the sweat upon her skin. She had never seen the stars so bright. Her eyes were so accustomed to the darkness that the fiery white pinpricks hurt her to look at. If the stars burn me this much, she thought, what will the sun do?

  Her gaze, grey as granite, fell into the shadowed fields for hours. She saw everything. From the swaying grass to the animals skulking in the dark, her vision felt as crisp as any creature of the world. I spy the bats flitting. I see the rabbits scurrying from hole to hole. I see an owl staring at me from the dead thicket over there. I even see a village, though it looks like no one has lived in it for years.

  “You’ve done well to follow me.” The sound of the Captain’s voice startled her. “For a time, I thought you’d die and your body would need dragging. Come now. We’re close. They will be waiting.”

  “They?” She staggered to a stop beside him.

  “Yes. They.”

  She walked another thousand steps. The waist-high grass seemed healthier here, so far removed from Nightmare. The blades fluttered against her hips like the waves of a windswept sea, shining silver in the moonlight.

  Somewhere in the distance, she spied a fire.

  “Do you see it?” The Captain halted again.

  “I do.” She squinted northward, where a shadowed field lay beside a thicket of tall, black, leafless trees. “I see a flame in the night. A camp lies around it, and many Thillrians are at rest. I cannot see their faces. They are waiting for someone. They must be…” The truth dawned upon her. “…they are waiting for us.”

  “The long night has sharpened your senses,” said the Captain.

  “But the day, I think, will make me weak again.”

  “Jix will not be here.” The Captain nodded at the distant flame. “You likely hoped for him, but he will not have come.”

  “These men will take us back to Denawir?”

  “You will see.”

  He marched. She fell in behind him. No Jix? She worried. How long will it take us to return to Denawir? A week? Longer? How can they expect me to carry this book so far and not die of needing to know what it means?

  A few hundred more strides through the weeds and rain-softened soil brought her to the edge of the Thillrian camp. The flame which had seemed so small from afar leapt into the darkness like a burning tower, crackling and spewing red embers at the night. Thillrian soldiers hunkered here and there, looking deathly weary, none of them rising to greet her.

  “They’ve sent Hadryn for us,” the Captain told her.

  “Hadryn?”

  “Jix’s replacement. The two are not so different, you will find. Go to the fire. Go and show Hadryn what you’ve found.”

  She closed in on the roaring fire. The grass crunched beneath her bare feet, and the ring of heat swirling about the flames dizzied her. Be calm, she told herself. I am a hero, the savior of Thillria. I have no reason to be nervous.

  As she meandered into the camp, she clutched the Pages close to her almost-bare belly. Its black binding felt almost like a shield, for the rest of her was disheveled. Blotches of Nightmare soil stained her legs up to her knees like stockings, while streaks of dried blood ran in dark rivers up and down her arms. What had once been her dress was nothing more than a few indecent tatters, a green and dun colored rag dangling in strips from her dirty skin. I am a disaster, a wretch, a dog wandering in from the rain, she knew. But I have the Pages. Nothing else matters.

  She stepped into the light. The shadows in her eyes roiled like smoke, the ebon shine of her hair gleaming.

  “Look,” she heard one Thillrian murmur. “That’s her.”

  “Can’t be,” grumbled another. “Her hair ain’t red. And look at how she’s dressed.”

  The Thillrians arose, their gazes cold upon her skin. “Excuse me,” she said to none of them in particular, “are any of you named Hadryn?”

  “Ande?” she heard someone on the far side of the fire say her name. “Is that you?”

  After so long asleep, her heart bounded back to life. “Rellen?” She wandered around the flames, holding the Pages Black close. “Rellen, are you there?”

  “Ande!”

  “Rellen!”

  As she rounded the roaring fire, she saw Rellen standing in the grass. He looked humble, small, and so very weary. His eyes were red and raw, his face haggard, and his beard bristlier than she ever remembered seeing. Saul stood right beside him, looking nearly as exhausted, sagging against his battlestaff as though it were a mast and he an empty sail that had not caught wind for days.

  None of it mattered. They look as handsome as ever.

  She sent them a smile bright enough to ignite the sun, but they seemed not to see it. She would have run to them and leapt into their arms but for the man who stepped in her way. This must be Hadryn. She nearly stumbled when he cut across her path. The one the Captain said I should find.

  Hadryn was a young Thillrian, his raiment fresh and clean, and his wily grin too sharp for her liking. She tried to skirt around him, but he barred her way, his long shadow falling across Rellen and Saul, and all the rest of the world.

  “Hello.” She halted before him. “Do I know you, ser?”

  “It’s you.” He bowed to her. “My darling girl, how sublime it is to see you. I never should’ve doubted it. I knew you wouldn’t die.”

  She looked the young Thillrian over, a thousand questions gathering on the tip of her tongue. She tried to glimpse Rellen and Saul over his shoulder, but his shadow drowned them, and their voices sounded farther away than seemed possible. “What would you have of me?” she asked. “The book? I have it here, though I would like to see my friends before…”

  “The book, yes.” Hadryn’s eyes widened. “You’ve gone and found it, and not a moment too soon. If ever I’ve seen such a glorious sight as you and the Pages, I cannot recall the day. Come close, girl. Bring it to me.”

  She held the Pages out, but then clutched it back to her chest. “My friends…”

  “…await you
. Give me the Pages Black, and they’ll be yours.”

  She heard Rellen calling for her, but he sounded too far away to be real. The wind arose, and Hadryn’s cool collectedness shriveled, his boyish smile stripped from his face like dust from a weathered table. She saw the other Thillrians encircle the fire, their dark, armored shoulders closing in on her. Do not be afraid, she commanded herself.

  “I would like to read it.” She hugged the Pages to her chest. “Before you destroy it, of course. The Captain said I might.”

  “Did he promise so much?”

  “He did.”

  “It may be possible. I must examine it first. Give it to me.”

  Her body rebelled against the act. She loosened her covetous clutch of the Pages’ fleshy binding, and her fingers felt frozen. When she passed it from her grasp to Hadryn’s, she shuddered, her bones rattling beneath her skin. It should stay with me, she thought. I found it. I earned it. I could keep it if I wanted. With the black fire, I could do whatever I wanted. I should take it back.

  She felt him take it away from her. Her heart slowed, and the dark whispers crawled back into her consciousness. They want me to have it, she knew. They saw who faced the Mortician and took his power away. They know.

  The Pages Black trembling in his hands, Hadryn sank to his knees. She watched him trace his fingers upon its cover, doting upon it as though it were his lover, mouthing words she could not make sense of.

  “Rellen?” She peered into the night. “Where did you go?”

  “My dear,” Hadryn’s voice invaded her senses. “I thank you. That you have claimed the Pages means the Uylen are doomed. Even now, they are dying. The curse is lifted. The last of them shall wither when the sun rises.”

  “I did it?” she exhaled. “I destroyed them?”

  “Yes. Shivershore need shiver no longer.”

  “What now?” She gestured at the book. “Might I keep it awhile? It is the least that is owed me.”

  He stood, and it seemed to her the campfire reacted to his rising. Look. She backed away from him. The reds turn violet. The smoke is blacker…and fouler. Who is this man? Where did Rellen and Saul go?

  Hadryn opened the Pages. He lavished each fleshy leaf with his touch, flipping slowly to the end. He can read it, she knew. And he likes what he sees.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” he exclaimed. “You’ve done well, Andelusia. The sky, the moon, the underworld; everything is here. The fever, the famine, even the Ur fire; every passage is intact. And here the last page is missing. Nine Pages…now ten.”

  “What does it mean?” she asked.

  “What does it mean?” He grinned. “I will show you.”

  She heard Rellen and Saul shouting her name. Through the black smoke billowing from the fire, she saw the Thillrians holding them back. Hadryn began to change. His cheeks, smooth as marble only breaths ago, smoldered with black shadows. She heard him mutter a strange syllable, and his flesh moved on his face as if made of clay. Crinkled lines like crows’ talons etched themselves on his skin. His eyes, once as green as the water in Denawir’s harbor, dimmed until they became grey and lightless. His hair darkened, his flesh paled, and his smile vanished behind his lips. The new man standing before her was not Hadryn at all. He was older, taller, handsomer, and far more dangerous.

  “Who…?” She backed away from him. “What are you?”

  “Ahhh.” The man shook his palms, the dust of Hadryn drifting into the grass. “Release…”

  A warlock… She felt her life’s most powerful shiver clatter through her bones. Andelusia, you fool. You have been tricked. Rellen was right. This was never what it seemed. This man, this sorcerer... What have I done?

  She tried to stand strong before him. “You are a liar.” She quaked with terror and rage. “You think I am afraid of you? I have seen more fearsome magicks than yours. Give me the book back. It is mine. You deceived me!”

  “This?” He towered over her, the Pages Black in his long, talon-like fingers. “I stole it no less than you did. This book is not meant to be destroyed. No fire may singe it, and no tool of man can break its binding. It is as indestructible, the same as those that made it. You knew this, and yet you brought it to me willingly.”

  He tells the truth. She swallowed hard, her courage falling like a stone in her throat. Rellen, where are you? Saul, stop this madness! Garrett, come and cut him down!

  “But what about the Uylen?” Her eyes welled with despair. “Jix said we had to destroy the book to be rid of them. I went so far. I almost died. I forsook my friends, my love, my life. The sun wounds me to see anymore, and the night is all that remains. I am ruined, and for what? A gift for you, a man I have never met?”

  “Oh, but we have met,” said the warlock, taller even than before, his grey gaze like a storm falling upon her. “Many times, many places. And always you did as I asked. For your obedience, I will let you live, but only if you do not resist.”

  She crumbled into the grass. She felt sick with herself, weak enough for the wind to tear apart if it desired. What have I done? The horror of her deeds descended upon her. I thought I was the world’s only wizard, but that book, this man, those creatures in the forest… The voices, they wanted me to find it. Who are they? How could I not see it? Oh no…no…no…

  She heard a struggle in the darkness beyond the warlock. Limp in the grass, the fire burning violet behind her, she watched with glazed eyes as Rellen knocked two Thillrians aside and stalked close to the flames. He had a long, perfect broadsword in his right hand, a silver dagger in his left. His knuckles were white as the moon, his eyes full of hatred.

  “Where is Hadryn?” he fumed. “What have you done to Andelusia?”

  “Hadryn?” The warlock spun to face him. “He was a whip of a lad, a good and useful Thillrian. The people of Rose loved him, his father and young wife even more so. I remember his death as though it were yesterday. It was winter, and in the snow his blood ran so very red.”

  “You killed him?” Saul strode up beside Rellen, battlestaff quivering in his grasp.

  “It happened years ago.” The warlock glared, and the realm surrounding the campfire went silent. “It wasn’t my deed, mind you. I’ve not killed a single Thillrian besides King Orumna. I’ve no taste for blood. Carving up men is Grimwain’s work, as you’re likely to learn.”

  Into Shadow

  The fire shrank behind Andelusia. She saw her shadow flailing in the grass, stretching toward the darkness, joining with the edge of night. I have betrayed us. She would have wept, but her body felt frozen. I am Thillria’s puppet.

  Somewhere in the smoke, she saw the warlock exhale, his frosted breath like a surge of winter wind. The surrounding throng of Thillrians, swords and maces in hand, slunk away. Rellen and Saul were all who remained, standing in the grass, the wind tearing at their tunics. Next to the warlock they look like nothing.

  “I am Thillria’s newest king,” the warlock boomed at them, and the world shuddered. “I am the last and most powerful of the Archithrope, nurtured by the night to take lordship of the day. The Pages is mine. The guises of Hadryn, Jix, and Orumna are shed. I thank you, Lord Gryphon, for lending your sweet girl to me. I think I will keep her a while longer.”

  “You will not!” Rellen rushed within a blade’s length of the warlock.