by Dave Gross
Like moonlight itself, the cool power of Selune flooded through her, drawn by her faith and shaped by her prayer. Feena felt rather than saw the magic that reached out and wrapped around the banditfreezing him in place. Feena walked up to him and stared into his startled eyes. She hefted Drik's club. Stag's eyes turned frightened and pleading. Feena shrugged.
"It is a pretty clearing, isn't it?" she said.
She slammed the club into Stag's head. Stag went down to join Drik in the dirt. Feena looked down at the bandit, then kicked his unconscious form.
"Don't you have any" she spat, delivering another kick" respect"
A third kick.
"— for the clergy?"
Feena snatched up his sword and hurled both it and Drik's club away into the bushes, then found her sandals and pulled them on. She pushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and turned back toward the road and Yhaunn.
"Moonmaiden's grace," she cursed, "I hate the city!"
Yhaunn had begun life centuries ago as a cluster of crude cabins caught between the quarry where workers hewed out great slabs of granite and the docks where they shipped them out to cities around the Sea of Fallen Stars. Many great buildings in Selgaunt, Saerloon, Westgate, and Alaghoneven far off Cimbar in Ches-senta and Velprintalar in Aglarondhad been built with Yhauntan stone. By the time the quarry was played out, Yhaunn had become a city in its own right. Its buildings had spilled out of the narrow strip along the bay and right into the old quarry itself, with the city's wealthier citizens building higher and higher onto the quarry walls until habitations filled the rocky basin.
In the gathering night, Yhaunn was filled with shadows. Feena stood at the city gates high atop the old quarry cliffs and stared down at the tightly-crowded bowl of the city. Selune had risen and her silver light fell over Feena's shoulders, illuminating the streets of Yhaunn but casting darkness between the buildings. Feena's hand reached for her medallion, but she stopped it and lifted her chin. It's no different than a forest at night, she told herself. A big stone forest.
With no trees and a lot of people. She swallowed.
"Never been to the city before, country wife?" laughed one of the guards at the gate. "Best keep a tight hand on your purse!"
Feena glared at him and started down into the city.
Even among all the buildings, Moonshadow Hall stood out, both from the heights of the city and from street level. The temple of Selune was a big, round structure that shimmered pale gray in the moonlight, a counterpoint to the full moon rising into the sky. Depicted in tall relief on the temple's walls were Sehlne's seven Shards, the goddess' winged servants and warriors. Together with sculpted owls, the Shards stood guard over the many gates that stood along the temple's outer walls. Only one of the outer gates was real, though. The rest were merely symbols of the true gates that represented the phases of the moon around Moonshadow Hall's sacred inner courtyard.
Feena strode up to the main entry gate and the acolyte who stood guard at it. She couldn't have been more than fourteen years old and the blue and silver robes that she wore fit her awkwardly. A mace, its head etched with a crescent moon, hung from a belt around her thin hips. Feena wondered if she could actually use it. As she approached, the girl glanced at her idly, looked away, then looked back as she realized that the woman in homespun and linen wore the same symbol she did.
"Welcome to Moonshadow Hall, sister," the girl said in greeting. She sounded as if she didn't quite know what to make of the rough woman in front of her, but Feena had to admit that even so she managed to force a pleasant, welcoming note into her voice. "Is this your first visit to the hall?"
Feena couldn't suppress a slight twitch. "No," she said, "it isn't. But-"
"Feena?" called a voice from within the gate. "Feena, is that you? By Our Silver Lady, I knew you couldn't stay away from me forever!"
A man came bounding out of the temple, a pale blue half-cape flowing behind him, and swept her up in his arms. Feena forced herself to smile and accept his embrace, but she gripped his arms the instant she felt his hands slide toward her bottom.
She pressed her cheek to his and whispered in his ear, "I wouldn't like to thump you in front of the girl, Mifano."
Mifano kissed her cheek and laughed, his hands moving back to a more brotherly position. His breath smelled of cloves and cinnamon.
"Ah, Feena, silver flame of the immortal moonhow my heart has missed the blunt impact of your wit." He turned to the acolyte and said, "Jhezzail, this is Feena. We trained together here when we were younger than you."
Feena saw the acolytes' eyes widen at the introduction, but once again it seemed that the girl managed to hold her composure. She bent slightly and dipped her head.
"Elder sister," she murmured formally.
"Younger sister," replied Feena, bowing her head in return. As Mifano took her arm and escorted her through the gate, she muttered, "I see my reputation is intact."
"You were a… unique novice, Feena. Not many clergy of Selune are blessed the way that you are."
"Not many would consider being a werewolf a. blessing," Feena snorted, "even among Selune's clergy. Remember, my mother sent me here to learn how to control that 'gift' as much as to be initiated into Selune's mysteries."
"Not that you needed much initiation, as I recall." "My mother taught me well."
Mifano fell silent for a moment, then said quietly, "We were all sorry to hear about your mother's death. In spite of her choices, she was an example to us all."
Feena looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Though he was no older than her own almost thirty years, when he chose to be serious Mifano seemed to age into sudden maturity. Maybe it was because he always played the role of the flirt that he usually seemed younger. Maybe it was because his prematurely silver hair that some claimed was a mark of Selune's favor lent him a strange sense of agelessness. Either way, she could in that moment see how the man she remembered as a clownish adolescent could have risen to prominence as a priest.
"Thank you," she said. She let the awkward silence drift for a heartbeat longer, then cleared her throat and added, "I hear that you've been making a reputation for yourself as well."
"I've taken on some extra duties at Moonshadow Hall" Mifano said with mock humility.
He gave a casual shrug that shifted his half-cape back behind his left shoulder, exposing the sword that rode on his hip. Feena's eyebrows rose at the sight of the weapon. The hilt that curled out of the scabbard was forged from bright steel, decorated with silver and mother-of-pearl, and marked with a crescent inside the circle of a full moon. Mifano's smile grew wide.
"Why, Feena," he asked suggestively, "are you staring at my sword?"
"Give it up, Mifano." She pointed at the sword and asked, "Is that really the Waxing Crescent?"
He grinned and nodded. Feena whistled. The sword was an artifact of Moonshadow Hall, traditionally given as a symbol of office to the priest or priestess who represented the business of the Hall in the city at large. It was a high honor and one of the most powerful positions within the temple.
"You have made a reputation for yourself! But I've never seen the Waxing Crescent carried outside of ceremonies before."
"Why shouldn't I carry it? It's a badge of honor and a fine weapon." He stroked the hilt. "And other than you apparently, women love"
Feena wrinkled her nose. "I get the point," she said as they stepped through another set of doors and into the cloisters around the temple courtyard. "So if you hold the Waxing Crescent, who holds the Waning Crescent?"
Mifano grimaced and flicked a finger along the open air passage.
Coming along the cloister toward them was a small cluster of priestesses. In the lead, issuing instructions as she walked, was a tall woman with soft brown hair that fell to her shoulders. On her belt hung the sword that was the twin to Mifano's: the Waning Crescent, symbol of administrative authority within Moonshadow Hall. She looked up and met Feena's gaze.
Feena suppressed
a scowl and said, "Well met, Velsinore."
Velsinore looked as though she was choking back similar distaste but answered, "Well met, Feena."
Velsinore murmured something to two of the three women following her and they scurried away, leaving one to trail in Velsinore's wake as she paced forward. With every step, the Waning Crescent slapped against Velsinore's leg and Feena wondered why she even bothered to wear it. Then she saw the look of hostility that passed between Velsinore and Mifano and understood.
She wears her sword because he wears his, thought Feena. Moonmaiden's grace, whatever else Dhauna wants me for, I've arrived in the middle of a power struggle!
"I was looking for you earlier," Velsinore told Mifano. "I had assumed you were out in the city pursuing one of your dalliances in lieu of your duties."
"My 'dalliances' are part of my duties," Mifano replied. His voice was as smooth as oil. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to see the cupboard bare as donations fall. But I wasn't dallying. Not outside of Moonshadow Hall at least."
He slipped his hand around Feena's arm. The visiting priestess jerked free and gave Mifano a scowl as Velsinore turned her attention back to her.
"Mifano met me at the gate and escorted me here," Feena explained.
"I'm sure he did," Velsinore murmured as she looked Feena up and down, examining her country skirt and blouse. Feena flushed. The tall priestess wasn't dressed quite so fancifully as Mifanoshe wore a simple high-collared robe of dove gray. The very simplicity of the robe, however, spoke of sophistication and authority. Feena's clothes, on the other hand, spoke of dirt, labor, and the country. A long crust of wolf spittle stained her skirt. She must have drooled during her travels. Angry, she wiped at the stain.
Velsinore's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "So you've returned to Moonshadow Hall. Have you given up your mother's vendetta against the servants of Malar?"
Feena flushed even deeper and said, "Do you mean 'have I stopped defending Arch Wood village against the predators of the Beastlord to fight the shadowy minions of Shar because Shar should be the only enemy that really matters to a priestess of Selune?'"
"When you put it that way," said Velsinore, "yes."
"No."
"Ah," Velsinore said as she folded her hands. "Then why have you come back? I imagine Mifano was too busy flirting with you to ask."
Mifano's eyes narrowed. "I was offering her hospitality."
"Which is my responsibility," said Velsinore. She glanced at Feena. "We have space in the acolyte's common room, of course. You're welcome to it."
"I don't think I'll be staying," Feena growledat both of them. "I'm only here because Dhauna Myritar sent for me."
Both Mifano and Velsinore stared at her. "She sent for you?" asked Velsinore. "A prayer carried on the Moonmaiden's beams," said Feena. She crossed her arms. "Do you doubt me?"
Velsinore and Mifano exchanged a glance, then Mifano looked back to Feena and asked, "When?"
Feena bit her tongue. "Recently," she said, evading. "Where is she? I'll talk to her and be on my way."
"In her quarters, preparing for the Full Moon Blessing," Velsinore told her. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then gestured for the priestess who had remained with her. "Tam, take Feena to the High Moonmistress."
Feena froze the younger priestess with a glare and said, "I know how to get there."
She strode off along the cloister, leaving the startled priestess in her wake. A heartbeat later, rapid footsteps followed her.
"Feena!" called Mifano. "Wait!"
"Why?" Feena swung through another door and back into the interior of the temple. The ramp that led up to the second floor and the high priestess's quarters was just beyond.
Mifano caught her hand. "You should know," he said hastily. "Dhauna has… things have changed at Moonshadow Hall. They're complicated."
Feena pulled away. "Things never change," she said. "They're always… complicated."
Feena raised her hand to knock on the carved wood of the High Moonmistress's quarters and was suddenly reminded of a precocious fifteen-year-old acolyte summoned before the high priestess of Moonshadow Hall for pummeling a silver: haired boy who had presented her with a collar and leash. She forced the memory aside. Some things did change. She rapped on the wood.
When there was no immediate response, she knocked again.
"Mother Dhauna, it's"
The door opened partway before she could finish. A young, dark-haired priestess peered out. She wore a harried expression.
"Please," she said quickly, "this isn't a good time. Can you come back later?"
Feena blinked. "I'd rather-"
"Feena?" Dhauna's voice rose from somewhere inside. "Feena, is that you?"
The dark-haired woman winced, but Feena raised her voice and called back, "It's me, Mother Dhauna!"
"By Our Silver Lady!" The high priestess's voice was shrill and excited. "Finally! Let her in, Julith! Let her in!"
The dark-haired womanJulithsighed and swung the door wide. "She's in her bedchamber," she whispered. "Please, try to keep her calm."
Feena looked at Julith, but the other woman was already turning away. Feena stepped inside and shut the door. Dhauna's sitting room was cluttered with stacks of books and bundles of scrolls. Papers hid the desk. She stared at the mess in surprise as she passed on into the bedchamber.
"Feena!" Seated in a chair before a dressing table, Dhauna Myritar twisted around to greet her.
Feena only barely managed to bend in respect. Somehow, it seemed, her muscles had forgotten how to move and her eyes had forgotten how to blink.
The High Moonmistress of Moonshadow Hall was all but lost within the silver lace and blue silk of her vestments, her head and face overshadowed by a high, stiff collar. For as long as Feena had known her, Dhauna had been a cheerfully plump priestess often mistaken for a woman twenty years younger than her actual age. But no one would underestimate the woman's age again. Her brown skin had faded to the color of crumpled parchment, and her dark gray eyes had lost their luster. She was not merely thin, but so gaunt that her gown was loose on her wasted frame.
"Mother Dhauna…" Feena murmured in shock.
"Oh, stand up!" Dhauna's gesture was sharp, making her irritation plain. "It's the vestments. They make me look like a starving dwarf. Life waxes, life wanestime catches us all, eventually." She swatted at Julith's hands as the priestess attempted to brush her fine, white hair. "It looks fine, Julith!" Her eyes focused on Feena again. "You took your time."
Feena finally blinked and fumbled for the excuse she had spent so long fussing over. The shock of the changes in the high priestess had her shaken. Was that what Mifano had been trying to warn her about?
"I couldn't come any sooner* High Moonmistress," she managed. "It's been a busy month. Two of the village women were…" Her carefully rehearsed words began to slip away from her. She clutched at them desperately, "…were sick. And one was pregnant with a difficult boy."
Dhauna grinned and replied, "In my experience, all boys are difficult."
"He had a jaundiced leg," said Feena hastily. She grimaced as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
"And the rest of him?" asked Dhauna.
"Twisted," Feena said.
Dhauna laughed.
Julith stood behind the high priestess, a simple circlet of silver bearing the disk of the full moon in her hands, staring open-mouthed at their exchange. Dhauna stretched around and glanced at the circlet.
"Not that one," she ordered. "The moon's road tiara! You know that!"
"But Mother Dhauna-"
"The tiara!" As Julith laid down the circlet, Dhauna turned back to Feena. "Why didn't you come, Feena? The truth this time."
Feena looked down at her feet. Above the soles of her sandals, they were very dirty.
"I didn't want to face Moonshadow Hall and Yhaunn again," she confessed. She glanced up. "You know I don't belong here."
"You're happier in the fields and woods, I know. It's you
r nature, just as it was your mother's nature. Even more so, I suppose." Dhauna winced as Julith set an ornate confection of a tiarasix crescent moons surrounding a full moonon her head. The white puff of her hair sank under the weight and Julith reached for a comb to fix it in place. Dhauna ignored her, keeping her gaze on Feena. "But I called for you, Feena." A pleading tone entered her voice. "I called for you at every turning of Selune's face."
"I know," said Feena. "I heard every call."
"Then why didn't you come?"
"I couldn't just drop everything and abandon my village!" Feena protested. "The people do need me."
"I know that! I gave you time," Dhauna's voice rose in accusation.
Feena's rose as well. "Eventually!"
"When I realized you weren't going to come quickly enough."
" 'Be here for the full moon of Eleasias,' you said." Feena spread her arms. "Here I am!"
"Just barely! Ow!" The High Moonmistress let out a shriek. She clapped one hand to her head and whirled around in a cascade of silk and lace to snap at Julith. "What are you doing?"
The young priestess stood with the tiara in one hand the comb in the other, and a look of dismay on her pale face. "The moon's road tiara is too heavy, Mother Dhauna. Your hair's too fine to support it, even with a comb"
Dhauna's face twisted and her eyes came back to life with sudden rage. "Then give me the full moon circlet, you stupid girl!"
Silence fell over the bedchamber like a shroud. Julith's eyes went wide and Feena was certain that she saw her hands tremble. There must have been surprise on her own face as well. Dhauna stared for a momentthen seemed to crumble.
"Julith," she whispered, "I'm sorry." She gestured with withered fingers. "Pleasego on ahead to the courtyard. Feena will help me finish and walk with me to the Full Moon Blessing." She looked over her shoulder at Feena and asked, "Won't you?"
Feena nodded. "Of course."
Julith set the moon's road tiara on the dressing table and bent deeply to the high priestess, then fled the room. Dhauna sat back with a sigh. Feena stepped up to her cautiously. More had changed about the High Moonmistress than just her wasting body.