By Moonrise

by Jackie Dana

  “Here you are!” It was Pasadhi Sebachin. “You’ve eaten?”

  She shook her head. “No, we just got here. He was just asking me about the Vosira.”

  “Ah, Sarnoc Garnell, this is no time for so many questions!” He said it playfully, but Kate sensed that he was cutting off a more serious conversation than she had figured it to be. “Sarnoc Hissil was looking for you in the apothecary.”

  The Sarnoc reached up and smoothed his hair, as if to suggest the interruption was of little consequence. “Aye Pasadhi, thank you,” he said graciously. “I should see what Hissil needs. Bhara, I look forward to talking with you again later.”

  Chapter 14

  “Can I ask you a favor?”

  Kate and Sebachin had spent two days exploring the city beyond the Sarnoc complex or relaxing in the gardens. He took her to a pub where they shared mugs of citrusy beer and plump rolls filled with spiced meat and cheese. They visited a hidden spring-fed pool downhill from the Sarnoc gardens where they spent an afternoon swimming. A few times he had research to do for the Sarnoc, and he’d haul one of the massive codices into the solar and show her the illuminations in the margins as he sought passages on the giant parchment pages.

  Now it was late afternoon, and they were sitting on a stone wall at the edge of the city that overlooked the river, drinking from a flask of water Sebachin had brought along, and sharing a small basket of sweet orange berries he had purchased from a stall in the market.

  “Of course, Kate. What can I do for you?”

  “I want to go back and find those women again, the Isa.”

  “Aye, if you wish. You’re free to come and go as you’d like. I should warn you, they don’t often make themselves visible.”

  “I know, maybe that’s why I want to go. For the past couple of days I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them, and I just wonder what they’re all about, you know? I can’t really explain it. Maybe I just want to see if they’re real?”

  “It’s getting late—why don’t we go first thing in the morning? After all, Sarnoc Vaj will be unhappy if we’re late for supper. He’s gathering all the Sarnoc to meet you tonight, you know.”

  “I know, but he said nightfall. That’s still hours from now.” She hopped off the wall. “There’s plenty of time. Come on, let’s go before the Sarnoc come up with something else I need to do, and I never get the chance.”

  “Fair enough.” He uncorked the flask with his teeth and used a bit of the water to rinse his hands of berry juice. “Then let’s go, but let’s hurry so we don’t have to walk back in the dark.”

  ***

  Just as before, the round hut appeared among the trees, looking like an ordinary, albeit ancient, stone dwelling. There was nothing about it that suggested magic was involved, and had she not been here before, she wouldn’t have suspected anything unusual.

  As they approached, Kate pointed, and mouthed, “can you see it?”

  He nodded, his eyes wide, and covered his mouth as if to silence his own surprise.

  Slowly, taking care to move as quietly as possible, they moved closer. Like before, the door was open. She mouthed, “stay here,” and pointed to the ground. Then she pointed to herself and the doorway, signaling that she wanted to get closer.

  Closing one eye, he gave her a look that said, ‘are you sure?’ but Kate nodded. She wasn’t satisfied with just finding the hut this time. She needed to know more. Seeing her determination, with the flick of two fingers, Sebachin encouraged her to approach.

  Again, Kate stood at the doorway. Inside were the same three women that she remembered from her previous visit. Instead of working, they were clustered together at the center of the table, all holding metal goblets in their hands, and they were singing. They again wore festive clothing, with scarves of colorful silks in their hair, and they reminded Kate a little of gypsies. She stood there transfixed, listening to their song. It was rhythmic, and although she could understand none of the words, she sensed that it was a song of celebration. As she watched, they began to dance, raising their arms and twirling around. As they moved, lifting their bare feet and spinning around each other, she could hear the sounds of tiny glysar bells they wore on their ankles.

  This continued for a minute or two, and then the woman with the long curls waved for her to come inside.

  She glanced back at Sebachin, who was close enough to see inside, but remained behind her in the trees. For someone who could stop the flowing of a river, he seemed transfixed by the Isa and their music. When she returned her attention to the hut, this time it hadn’t disappeared. Now, all three women lifted their arms and beckoned her to approach.

  Memories of fairy tales swirled through her mind, with the sinister intentions of magical beings. If she entered the hut, would she ever escape? She knew nothing about these Isa, who were mysterious even to Sebachin. Logic dictated that she remain outside with him, but their song beckoned to her. With trepidation, she stuck one foot across the threshold. When nothing happened—when she wasn’t turned to stone or killed on the spot—she took another step forward.

  Immediately the three women spun around the table to greet her.

  “You have come!” said the woman who had beckoned her to enter.

  “Welcome!” said the second, the pixie girl.

  “We waited for you,” the third woman, the eldest said.

  “We have waited so very long.” The first woman offered her a goblet, holding it out with both hands across the table.

  Kate nodded in thanks, unable to find words suitable for the moment, and grasped it with both hands. It was glysar, with many symbols and designs engraved upon its surface. She sniffed its contents, and then looked inside. It was not wine, nor ale, nor did it smell even like spirits.

  “We know you did not come alone,” the first woman said.

  “Do not worry,” said the second. “We recognize his spirit.”

  “He is wise,” said the third. “And kind. He will not betray us.”

  Kate was still holding the goblet, and didn’t take a drink. She was a bit unnerved that the three women were speaking as one individual. “He’s a friend. He just wanted to see you for himself.”

  “As do all men.”

  “They think we hide from them.”

  “In reality, they are blind to us.”

  Kate nodded, assuming this was what Sebachin had explained earlier. Again she looked into the goblet, which now she felt awkward holding.

  “It is tala,” said the first woman.

  “We wish to celebrate,” said the second.

  “It is our best. Please drink.” the third announced.

  They all raised goblets, and with their free hands, signaled for her to do the same.

  Before she did, she looked over her shoulder, and saw Sebachin still just beyond the door. If something happened to her, at least he’d witness it. She raised her goblet with the others, and then following their lead, took a sip.

  It was alcoholic, but it was not a recreational beverage. One sip, and she could tell there was magic at work.

  Her vision blurred and cleared, and Kate immediately knew the women’s names. The first woman, with the long hair, was Tamysa; the second, the youngest was, Ovia; the third, the oldest of the three, Caris. And just as quickly as she had this knowledge, they recognized it, and rushed forward and collectively wrapped their arms around her, embracing her as they would a sister.

  Kate was overwhelmed by the gesture, which felt genuine and full of love. When she glanced back at the door, it was closed, though none of the women had gone near it. It was as if the entire world beyond the walls of this small hut had disappeared, as if they were a vessel afloat in the heavens.

  They released her, and for a few seconds, she imagined she was being wrapped in threads of golden light that flowed from their fingers. It was an amazing feeling, for in those moments it was as if she was floating, without a single worry or concern, and she wondered if this was a hallucination. Nothing real
ever felt like this. Every pain and fear she had ever experienced in her life melted away, and she was drawn into a state of perfect contentment and safety, the way she only felt in dreams.

  “What are you doing?” she finally asked, stumbling over the words even as she spoke them.

  They joined hands, encircling her with their arms, and guided her into the open area in the center of the table, the inner curve of the crescent.

  “We wish for you to remain here, with us.”

  “But it is not your time to do so.”

  “You have much to do here.”

  “She has told us to release you.”

  “This is your destiny. Do not fear.”

  “You shall follow the path the Goddess made for you.”

  Kate barely heard them, but their words were bouncing in her brain, finding permanent hold in her thoughts. She was swimming in their light, in the energy of these women, and at that moment believed she would never need anything more than that.

  Then the light faded, and she found herself standing alone, the arms of the table curling around her. It was hard to know how long she had been inside the cottage, but it appeared the sun was low on the horizon. Then she saw a silver light descend from above and felt a tingle beginning at the crown of her head that quickly moved through her body. When she raised her arm, she noticed that once again, her ring was glowing brightly.

  It was at that moment that she lost consciousness.

  Chapter 15

  Wind pulled at her dress and twisted her hair into knots. Nausea kept her close to the ground for several minutes, and even lifting her head made her dizzy.

  Opening her eyes slowly, Kate discovered that she was lying face first on rocky ground. As she sat up, the queasiness subsided, and she pushed herself up onto her feet. As she did so, she realized she was standing on a wind-scrubbed hillside near a battered tree that grew sideways. The sky washed with gold and peach tones, suggesting there was little daylight left. Examining her surroundings further, the only other notable thing nearby was the remains of an ancient cottage at the base of the hill. The building was ancient, with gaping holes in the walls. The roof had caved in long ago, and weeds carpeted the floor. She thought she could see a second cottage in the distance, though it appeared to be in no better condition than the first.

  She had fleeting memories of where she had been moments ago, and looked at the remains of the stone hut with curiosity. It had none of the magic of the one of the Isa, and looked for all purposes like an old cottage that had been long ago abandoned to the elements.

  The Isa. Had that really happened, or was it a dream? Looking around, she wasn’t sure about anything now. This wasn’t Altopon, and Sebachin was nowhere to be found.

  Just then, someone grunted behind her.

  Alone only a moment ago, she spun around to confront the newcomer. The sound came from a trio of sheep that had climbed down the hillside and now were investigating her sudden appearance.

  “So I suppose this is your house now?” she asked the animals. The ram lifted his head and stared down his nose. Then he shook his head and led a rapid retreat back up the hillside.

  Realizing even the sheep had better things to do, she climbed down the hillside to the cottage, and sat against one of the walls. She gathered her legs close to her chest due to the chilly winds, and waited.

  What had happened? How did she end up here? And, perhaps most importantly, was there any way to determine where ‘here’ was? There was nothing to indicate whether she was still in Sarducia or somewhere in her own world, though it scarcely mattered until she could find someone to help her or some sort of clue to find her way home. Had the Isa sent her here, and if so, why? What was she supposed to do now? She remembered that Sebachin had been just outside their cottage. He would know by now that she was gone. Would he come looking for her?

  Drops of water splashing against her cheek interrupted her thoughts. “Rain?” she said aloud. “Oh, that’s just great.”

  She had no time to devise a plan, as the rain quickly turned into a downpour. Thoroughly angry about her situation, she scrambled to her feet and let out a scream of frustration. Already chilled by the winds, and now soaked by the sudden shower, she realized she needed to find shelter, and quickly. She left the cottage for an overgrown footpath leading downhill. Walking across the hillside was treacherous: the sun was sinking towards the horizon, leaving precious little daylight for navigation, and rainwater coursed down the little path, causing her to nearly lose her balance in the slick mud. The whole process was complicated by the fact that she was wearing her beautiful dress supplied by the Sarnoc, a garment distinctly unsuitable for hiking.

  As if agreeing with her decision to leave the cottage, the storm was short-lived, and although the rain continued to fall, it turned into little more than a drizzle.

  There was barely enough light to see the path, which was little more than a scratch on the rocky ground, but soon she made out the sound of the ocean, so she kept aiming for that. Eventually, she spied a small cluster of buildings in the distance. Inspired by a chance to find shelter from the rain and wind, she started jogging in that direction, disregarding the mud that splattered her skirt at each step.

  The first building turned out to be a stable, but beside it was a salt-stained stone structure with a tattered sign hanging above the door. The faded inscription was illegible, but she could make out a hand-painted image of a tankard, and expressed silent gratitude for the universal symbol. Having no money, she wouldn’t be able to purchase anything, but at least it would be dry inside, and perhaps someone could tell her where she was and how to get back to ‘civilization,’ however loosely defined that might be out here.

  With no reason to hesitate further, she pushed the door open and walked inside, trailing streams of water behind her.

  The main room was barely brighter than the darkness outside. Even in the dim light of candles and a fire in the hearth across the room, it wasn’t hard to discern the roughness of the structure, with the tables made from old wooden planks, perhaps recycled from another building, and a floor that was bare earth and dusty—other than the spot where she stood, which was turning rapidly into a pool of mud. But it wasn’t the décor, but the stench—a combination of mildew and stale beer, and something else she didn’t want to guess—that nearly sent her back out into the rain. Becoming used to dark rooms was one thing; the odors of this world were something else. She lingered, however, because despite its many flaws, the inn was warm and dry, and as cold and tired as she was, that trumped all else.

  The inn was nearly empty, with just a few strangers occupying a table in the corner closest to the fire. As she shook rain from her arms and hair, the men turned their heads in her direction and mumbled something to each other.

  One of them, tall and thin, kicked back his stool and walked over to her, greeting her with an expression that appeared to be a combination of curiosity and concern.

  “What in Kerthal’s name happened to you? You must be freezing.” Without waiting for a response, with slender fingers he unpinned a simple glysar brooch. While she wiped her wet face with her sleeve, he removed his cloak, shook it out, and draped it over her shoulders. Then he pushed open the door and looked outside. “Bhara, where is the rest of your traveling party?” he asked in a gentle voice that demonstrated genuine concern. “I hope you did not meet with trouble on the road?”

  She had to think quickly. This world was still foreign to her, but she realized that to these men, a young woman, traveling alone, would raise suspicion. “Something spooked our horses, and in the commotion, I fell.” Even her ears it was a pathetic lie, but it was the first thing that came to mind. “After that, everyone scattered, and I lost track of them.” Given the rising chill that set her teeth chattering, it was hard not to sound weak and pathetic, but she sensed it would be safest to infer that she was with others who would be looking for her.

  “Oh dear, were you injured?” This information seemed to tro
uble him, and his eyebrows pinched with concern as his hand came to rest on her shoulder.

  “No, I’m fine.” She sucked in a breath between her teeth as she pulled the cloak closer. “Just wet from the rain, and a little cold.”

  “Of course, you must come over to the fire.” While his hair was still dark, his thin beard was turning grey, and it was hard to place his age. Nevertheless, in a fatherly gesture he placed his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the seat closest to the fire, and used an iron poker to stir the coals until there were new flames. “How long have you been traveling?”

  “Uh—” she hesitated. “I’ve lost track of how many days it’s been since…” she scrambled for something. “Since we left Loraden.” There, that would work, she hoped. It wasn’t so far from the truth anyway.

  “Such a long journey, eh?” he asked as he pulled out his stool, and then slid his full mug of ale over to her. “Wherever your companions are, it will be foolish to try to find them in weather like this, but perhaps they will reach the inn themselves in due time. So, for now, please join us, and I’m sure you will soon be reunited with your party.”

  Kate stood at the edge of the table and examined the mug, and then back to the stranger who had offered it. She then eyed the other three at the table—all of whom were staring at her now—with trepidation. Although she had no idea what to do next, she knew survival was her biggest priority; after that she’d see what else she could manage.

  Taking her hesitation as fear, the man nodded to her. “Go ahead. It will do you good.”

  Nervously, she sat on the stool he had pulled out for her, and then she took a sip. The ale, weak though it was, tasted heavenly, and refreshed her a bit.

  “Why would you be visiting this wretched place?” one of the man’s companions asked her. Compared to the first man, who was slightly built, this one was a giant, with thick arms and a broad chest. He had a red beard and wiry hair to match, and as he leaned forward to scrutinize her, he swept hair from his eyes. He was indisputably less congenial than his companion, and his words sounded more like an accusation than an honest query.