Moonshadow

by Krystina Coles

  “Mama thinks so.” She replied; and I recalled Paia’s reasoning for her name—talk of a patron goddess and three treasured gifts.

  “Speaking of…” I allowed my voice to trail away as I looked over her head and out into the hall, knowing it wouldn’t be too long before Lady Torrowin reappeared.

  “You have to go.” I didn’t have to finish for her to understand.

  “She’s right.” The hair on the nape of my neck bristled at the sound of another voice, and I cast my arm ahead of Norrie to dissuade its owner from coming any closer.

  As if—somehow—the testament to my power dashed across the floor in pieces wasn’t enough.

  But the young man from Jaza remained in what was left of the doorway.

  “No need, milady. I know who you are.” Slowly, I lowered my hand.

  “You won’t stop us?” He shook his head at my question.

  “I pledged my life to the House of Torrowin.” He paused and bowed his head slightly in reverence, and I could only stare in response. “I will not break that vow. But you must go now—before Lady Torrowin realizes what you’ve done.” He said, turning his head to inspect both sides of the hallway, and stepped backwards to allow us passage. Norrie tilted her eyes upward to find me and frowned—and hardened the expression on her face with renewed determination.

  “Follow me.” Clutching my hand in hers, she bounded over the heaps of timber and twisted iron and landed on her toes on the nearest tiles free of any debris; and I stumbled, less successfully, in pursuit of her. “We need to get to the pool. That’s the closest way out.” The silver-embroidered sash of her midnight blue robe flew behind her as she wrenched me forward and farther down the corridor.

  “But I still don’t know how to travel through the water.” I responded, breathless. We were sprinting through the dark—dashing blindly toward what lay at the end of the hallway. The walls blurred past us. My naked feet slapped against the floor. And the iridescent sheen of moonlight captured within the pearl backing of the reflecting pool sparkled into view. But as we drew closer, the sound of flesh meeting stone began to soften—until the ground sucked at my skin and my steps were no longer sure; and I glanced down to investigate the cause.

  Water—washing over the floor like an ocean tide. It flooded past my toes, creeping steadily as if I’d called it into being myself.

  But I knew better.

  The image of my startled face rippled beneath me as it rose and lashed at my legs, but it only spurred me onward at a faster pace.

  I couldn’t outrun it. I knew that. But if I reached the pool, it wouldn’t matter. If I reached it—

  “Mama, no!” My thoughts were interrupted by a scream as my feet were whipped up and out from under me and I was thrown roughly onto my back, and any oxygen dwelling in my lungs left my chest to burn in its absence. And as I lay gasping in the shallow water, I glimpsed her visage in the surface.

  “Stay back, Xeanora!” The woman commanded, and the cacophony of splashing water and shouting fell away into bitter silence. “I think it’s time you joined your brothers and sisters, Elynea.” She spoke, flecks of water spraying over my forehead as she approached me from behind. It sloshed at my ears, snatched at my nostrils; and heaving, I floundered to my hands and knees in time to meet her shoes with my eyes. “The Morkoa are gone.” A glint of silver cut the darkness in two, and I didn’t have to look up to know what she was gripping in her hand. “Xaijena has no use for heroes anymore.” I shivered—not at the thought of dying—no.

  But what it meant to die here. Where my parents’ blood once soaked the floors and screams echoed in the walls—all given for my life.

  And I’d wasted it.

  “I wasn’t born to be a sacrifice.” I whispered, my voice rising with the water around me. I raised my head to lock eyes with her and found her countenance marred by the droplets of water suspended between us. They were waiting, menacingly still in the quiet.

  But they were mine.

  I stood as she screeched and the blade came down, slicing the atmosphere and gathering dew as the spheres of water in its way burst into nothingness.

  But it would pierce nothing else.

  I caught her wrist in my fingers, digging my nails into her skin until rivulets of blood arced down the edges to mingle with the water below.

  “I am Morkoa. And you will not treat me this way.” The dagger slipped from her hand to fall at my feet and cast the water it displaced onto the skirt that clung to my ankles, and I kicked at the pommel with my heel to send it spinning to the opposite end of the corridor. I stole a step backward at Paia’s sudden movement, only to watch her crumble to her knees and sob into her hands.

  And for a moment, I imagined my mother falling into the same position in Cedar Crest when she realized I wouldn’t be coming home.

  “Ely?” I whirled to gaze at the pool bathed in silver light—and the girl two hundred and six years my junior waiting beside it.

  “You know she was just trying to protect you—right?” I needed to be sure.

  But she nodded, wordless, in answer. I left Paia’s weeping form in the hallway to stand with her beneath the chandelier and peer into the water’s depths, and she seemed to understand what I was thinking.

  “You have to imagine what you want the most,” she said, “and see yourself with it.”

  What I wanted most—I knew what that was.

  I inched forward and closer to the edge, picturing Heather’s smiling face as we laughed with Connor under our favorite tree; but two small arms wrapped themselves around my waist before I broke the mirror-like surface, and I turned to reciprocate her tight embrace with an encompassing hug of my own.

  “I knew you weren’t lost.” She whispered into my chest, and when she let go, I knelt down to Norrie’s level to set my hands on her shoulders.

  “And I never will be.” I promised and glanced at the woman behind her. “I’ll come back when I can.”

  “Really?” She started. “What about—”

  “Nothing is going to keep me from my family again.” I held her in my arms once more; but this time, tearing away left me with hands much emptier than they’d been before. And with a sigh, I returned my attention to the reflecting pool. “Heather…” I murmured as I closed my eyes.

  And I leapt into the unknown.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ye Who Enter Here

  I gasped for air as I burst out of the water and reached out for something to grab onto, ripping a handful of grass up from the ground. Grasping desperately, I crawled onto the grass and fought to catch my breath. It was warm, but the cold that had nearly claimed me in Cedar Crest still clung to my skin…and the clothes that seemed to be perpetually sodden. I closed my eyes in the silence and let the moonlight fall onto my back and seep into my veins, and I felt the weight suddenly disappear as droplets of water bled from my gown and drifted away. I raised my head, and a sparkling landscape of willow trees and rosebushes filled my eyes. There were marble fountains—as many as half a dozen—scattered across the garden and laden in golden lights. I rose to my feet, afraid that I had found myself in another chamber of the cemetery; but a gentle breeze swirled through my hair and into the branches of the nearest willow standing behind me, and I knew that I was outside.

  “Where?” I said aloud—if only to myself—and stepped towards the nearest fountain, realizing that the lights weren’t lights at all. I narrowed my eyes as the tiny silhouette of a boy sharpened in the midst of the glow that surrounded him.

  “Nunnehi…” It was a whisper—faint like the whistle of the wind. I turned at the sound of it, my eyes searching for the source of the voice.

  “Who’s there?” My words echoed in the darkness. Nothing. It was quiet…just as it had been before. “Come out!” I commanded the silence, as if I expected it to obey. “Come out, or I swear, I’ll—” There was a rustling in the bushes on the other side of the garden, and I stared at them in apprehension. I winced when the palms of my hands
began to burn furiously, and I looked down at them to find the cause of it. Two blinding bright lights burst out of them—almost as if I were holding the stars in my fingers.

  “My apologies…” A pair of amber eyes emerged from the shadows. “I thought you were another one.” They darted to my glowing hands and then back to my face; and with a whimper, the figure retreated into the trees.

  “No, wait!” I called out to it, shaking my hands in an attempt to chase the light away. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I insisted, adding, “I probably couldn’t if I tried.” I held out my palms when they were no longer shining. “Look, see? I have no idea what I’m doing.” I joked, and the outline of a young woman reluctantly revealed itself. My eyes widened as I stared at her, speechless. She stood before me like a faded picture, bereft of color and dressed in clothes reminiscent of a time before my own. I could see the tree branches directly behind her as she stepped towards me, and I blinked to reassure myself of what I was seeing. “Are you—”

  “A ghost? I—I don’t think so.” She glanced at her own transparent fingers, stuttering. “It’s been so long, I can’t remember.” The long black hair that appeared to have been pulled into a bun long ago now fell unkempt over her face; and when she wrapped her arms around herself, I caught a glimpse of a dull jagged ‘L’ scarring her skin.

  “What year was it…when he brought you here?” I asked her; and at once, she lowered her sullen face.

  “The thirty-eighth year of the nineteenth century…” My heart stopped in my chest at those words. She had been here almost as long as I’d been gone. “I—I stopped counting the years after a while.”

  Wait.

  “Were you there during the Trail of Tears?” I knew the year sounded familiar. She wrinkled her forehead, frowning.

  “Was that what they called it?” She paused. “It fits. All I remember is feeling cold. We started walking the month of the Long Night’s Moon. We were meant to take a ferry across a river, but there was something else.” She strained to pluck it from her memory. “There were—there were two full moons. I thought it strange but nothing more—not until the night of the second of them. I fell asleep under Mantle Rock and awoke in a much darker place.” Her voice trembled with a fear I’d only seen in Adrienne’s eyes. “And this,” she gestured to her ghoulish appearance, “this is what happens to people like us when we stay too long. I suppose it’s a gift: I won’t have to exist for much longer.” I looked at her sadly.

  A century and a half.

  “There are other girls here, right?” She didn’t answer. “You said you thought I was another one. Can you take me to the rest?” I pleaded with her; and she stared at me, her eyes wide.

  “Are you insane?” She asked, incredulous. “Surely, you’ll be trapped here, too. There’s no way out.”

  “You know that’s not true.” I insisted; and for a moment, the color seemed to return to her face.

  “She made it?” I nodded, and her eyes started to fill with tears.

  “You can get out, too—all of you. That’s why I’m here.” I explained. “I just need to know where they are.” She hesitated at my words but eventually reached out her spectral hand, glancing behind her back as if she expected someone to be waiting there. I took hold of her fingers and was surprised to find that they were just as solid as mine.

  “Come with me.” She tightened her grip and pulled me around the bushes and into the trees that had served as her hiding place. I watched as she bent down to brush away a handful of leaves from the ground, revealing the intricate design of an iron grate; and she stood, stealing a step back as she spoke. “This will lead you to them.” I pulled the grate up from the cobblestone pavement and set it aside; and it scraped against the stone surface in the quiet.

  “Thank you.” I breathed and bit my lip as I looked into the darkness that awaited me.

  “I’m coming with you.” I gazed up at her in surprise, but she didn’t falter. “You don’t know what’s on the other side.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked her, and she nodded in response. “All right.” I sighed. “Just stay behind me.” Slowly, I lowered myself into the opening in the ground and let my legs dangle freely when I found a seat on the edge. I narrowed my eyes in an attempt to peer into the depths below, but it was too dark to see past my feet. “It’s not too far down?” I turned as I asked her, and she shook her head. Without another thought, I slid off the side and landed on my feet in the shadows. A cloud of dust rose up from the ground and entangled itself in my hair, and I lifted my head toward the ceiling as the girl with the amber eyes dropped down beside me. “I don’t think I caught your name.” I mentioned, and she stood.

  “Charlotte.” She started. “Charlotte Blackwolf.”

  “Melissa Moonwater.” I answered before returning my attention to the tunnel that stretched on before us.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what awaited me at the end of it, but something in me made me glad that I wasn’t alone.

  “I’m afraid it’s too dark.” I heard Charlotte remark behind me. I glanced down at my hands and peered at the calloused skin of my palms expectantly.

  “Not for long.” I muttered to myself as two rays of light flickered in the darkness, and I held my hands out in front of me to illuminate the way. Like the stone arches that I had seen when I had first set foot in Rynmoor, red bricks arced themselves over our heads and kept the walls of rocks and clay from caving in on us.

  “A useful gift.” She commented as I led the way into the unknown, and I stole a glimpse at her from over my shoulder.

  “It’s a long story.” I replied.

  It’d only been a month, and so much had changed.

  “You don’t seem so surprised.” I remarked, gazing at the ground as a muddy brown mouse scurried past my feet.

  They all looked the same, whether they were finding shelter in my parents’ stables or somewhere much farther away.

  “I suppose after spending as long as I have here, I’ve learned that nothing is impossible.” She responded, somber. “I’ve seen enough monsters to last me a lifetime.”

  I’m sure she had.

  I lowered my hands in disappointment when the path suddenly came to an end, and Charlotte nearly collided with me before she realized that I had stopped.

  “What’s the mat—” She paused when she saw the brick wall standing silently in front of us, shaking her head. “No. That wasn’t there before.”

  “Are you sure?” I frowned, disheartened.

  Everything I had fought for was only a few steps away; and now, I couldn’t reach it.

  “Absolutely.” She insisted. “I was just here.” For a moment, I merely stared at it as I felt my heart sink into my stomach and then back to the girl slowly fading away beside me.

  “But—but it was dark…You couldn’t have seen it.” I stuttered, and she raised her eyebrows at my words.

  “I don’t understand.” I stole a step forward and set my hand on the wall, tracing the cracks of the weathered bricks with my fingers.

  “I think you went through it.” I turned to face her, only to find her looking down at her arms.

  “I suppose that’s possible…” She murmured to herself and raised her head to set her eyes on me. “I thought I had more time.”

  “I’m saving you, too.” I reminded her; and she nodded, but nothing I could say would take that look out of her eyes. “Do you think you can help me get through?”

  “I—I think so.” Hesitantly, she joined me at the wall and swallowed, just as terrified as I was. But she reached out her hand, immediately jumping back in surprise when her fingertips disappeared. “Are you ready?” She asked me, and I grasped her hand in response. Closing my eyes, I let her pull me to the other side; and suddenly, the warmth that I had felt before was gone. The fresh summer air had given way to an atmosphere that tasted stale and bitter in my mouth and smelled of mold and rotting wood. The eerie silence was only broken by the constant dripping of water, faint like a whis
per—but loud enough to haunt me. A soft whimper drifted up to my ears from the floor; and I lifted my right hand over my head, dissolving the darkness. At once, a chorus of weakened screams and clinking metal erupted in the newly found light; and I lowered it. The moonlight cast shadowy pillars on the furthest wall as it moved from the ceiling to the ground, and the silhouettes of thin arms and legs came into view.

  “Heather? Heather, I’m here.” I fell to my hands and knees at the foot of the nearest crate and peered inside, only to find that it was empty.

  “Melissa Moonwater?” The air began to ripple around the disembodied voice, and what little light that entered through the slits in the crate shifted until a small mass formed inside. And it lifted its head to reveal a face that I hadn’t seen in a long time. She scrambled from the back of the wooden box to see me more clearly. “What are you doing? How did you escape?”

  “I didn’t.” Iliana’s deep brown eyes widened as I spoke.

  “Then why would you come here?” Her voice trembled in her throat. “You shouldn’t have come.” She shrank back, the gravity of the situation clear in those frightened eyes.

  “I’m here to help.” I insisted and glanced back at Charlotte before placing my hand on the latch, and it was instantly reduced to nothing. Swinging open the door, I crawled inside and held out my hand for her to take it. But she only gazed at it, stunned.

  “I never thought I’d see anything like that.” She marveled as she grasped it, shaking nervously as she struggled out of the crate and into the open. Straw clung to her hair and clothes, and the scars that riddled Adrienne’s and Charlotte’s arms appeared just as horrifying on hers.

  “Charlotte,” I turned to the girl with the wolf-like eyes, “stay with Iliana. I’m going to help everyone else.” I told her, and she nodded her head at my request. I rose to my feet; and suddenly, a loud creak split the darkness in two—the immediate onset of fear extinguishing my torch of moonlight. Before I could catch my breath, Iliana shoved me inside the mouth of her prison and forced herself to join me. “What’s going on?” I whispered, disoriented as she placed her hand on me.