by Dave Gross
"Tymora's own luck," he breathed.
Keph wasn't quite sure how or why Strasus could come to conclude that what had happened was nothing more than an accident, but Keph wasn't going to question his good fortune! As his family followed Roderio's floating form and the crowd of servants dispersed, Keph ducked into the laboratory. His brother's familiar hissed at him.
"Quiet, you!" he hissed back, and darted to the rack of jars, hastily grabbing those that remained of the ones he had dusted with the magesbane. Tucking them carefully into the crook of his arm, he darted back to the door and peered along the hall.
The servants were gone, his parents and sister all apparently in Roderio's bedchamber keeping watch over his brother. The hall was empty except for Adrey's disembodied wailing. Keph trotted down the hall to his own bedchamber and closed the door softly behind himself.
"Kephi Hey, Keph!"
Keph halted his brisk pace and swung toward the sound of Jarull's voice so quickly he almost fell over. The big man was leaning back in the shadows of a stone wall, well out of the heat of the afternoon sun. He gestured for Keph to join him, but the friendly smile he offered faded after one look at the glower on Keph's face.
"Dark, Keph, what's wrong with you?"
Keph stalked over to him. "That damn magesbane almost killed my brother!" he spat quietly. Like Jarull, many Yhauntans were seeking shelter from the heat, but there were still some people out and about. As much as he felt like shouting at his friend, he didn't dare. He shook the satchel that he carried over one shoulder. "I'm getting rid of what's left!"
"Killed him?" Jarull's eyes went wide. "Keph, what did you do with it?"
Biting off each word in anger, Keph told him. When he was finished, Jarull stared at him for a momentthen started laughing.
"It isn't funny!" Keph snarled.
He threw a punch at the big man. Jarull's hand snapped up and caught his fist. The laughter vanished from his voice.
"It is funny, Keph," he said softly.
"Oh, really?" Keph tugged his fist free of Jarull's grip. "What was the magesbane supposed to do?"
Jarull shrugged. "Explode." A strangled sound found its way out of Keph's throat, and Jarull added hastily, "A little bit, Keph. Only a little bit!"
"You said it wouldn't do anything permanent!"
"In a house with five powerful wizards, how much is there that's really permanent?" He spread his hands and raised his eyebrows. "Besides, how much do you have to hate someone to do what you did, just to make sure they got a little punishment?"
Keph blinked. "What?"
"How much of the magesbane did you say you used, Keph? Half a bottle? Without really knowing what would happen?" Jarull's voice dropped even lower and he leaned forward. "Tell me you regret it."
Keph stared at his friend. By daylight, Jarull looked even paler than he had the night before, his eyes even brighter. Something was wrong with him, Keph realized. Something more had happened in Ravens Bluff than Jarull was saying.
"Jarull…" he said, starting to take a step back.
Jarull caught his arm. "Answer me, Keph. Do you regret what you did to Roderio? What was your first reaction when your father said he thought it was all just an accident?"
"I…" Keph opened his mouththen shut it again. What had been his first reaction? Really?
Relief, he realized. Not regret for what he had done, nor dismay at what had happened to Roderio, but relief that he hadn't been caught. And more than that.
A sick feeling of elation had warmed him. He had knocked Roderio off his pedestal, not just physically, but in his father's eyes as well. The sigh that had escaped Strasus as he walked out of the laboratoryRoderio's apparent accident had disappointed Strasus. Disappointed him deeply.
It felt wonderful.
Keph sank down beside Jarull, the magesbane-contaminated jars in his satchel clanking together roughly. He turned his head to stare at his friend.
"You were never in Ravens Bluff at all, were you?" he asked. Jarull shook his head. Keph leaned back against the cool of the wall. "What's going on, Jarull?"
"I met a woman," murmured Jarull. He held up his hand and unfolded his fingers to reveal a symbol. Keph stared at it. A simple disk, painted black with a rim of deep purple.
The symbol of Shar, the Mistress of the Night, the Lady of Loss.
Fear shivered through Keph's guts. "Jarull…"
The big man clenched his fist around the disk, hiding it once more.
"I'm not taking it anymore, Keph," he said. "I've had it with my mother trying to control everything I do. I've had it with people looking down on me. I'm going to take what's mine." He glanced down at Keph. "You're sick of having your family and people like Lyraene walk all over you, aren't you, Keph? I know you are. We can do something about that."
He paused and cocked his head just a little bit. Keph looked away from his friend's too-bright eyes. Jarull was silent for a moment, then added, "I'll help you get rid of the last of that magesbane and I'll introduce you to some of my new friends. What do you think?"
He held out his fist, the one with the black and purple symbol wrapped inside. Keph stared at it. Shar…
But it had felt so good to bring down Roderio, at least a little bit.
He reached out and bashed his fist against Jarull's.
CHAPTER 3
Coolie Shoondeep, the chubby high priest of Tymora in Yhaunn, droned on and on about the great shame that came when temple competed with temple. Would it be a great shame, Feena wondered, if she were to stuff an apple from the nearby fruit bowl into his gaping mouth to shut him up? Glancing around the table, she was fairly certain that the leaders of Yhaunn's other major temples would support her. Their eyes were beginning to glaze over as well. He's dull, thought Feena, he's methodicalMoonmaiden's grace, has there ever been a more unlikely priest, of the bold goddess of good fortune?
Maybe not, a part of her responded, but is he any more unlikely a high priest than you are a high priestess?
She grimaced deeply. Mifano, seated just behind and to the right of her, leaned forward.
"What's wrong now?" he murmured in her ear.
"He's driving me crazy," Feena murmured back. "I can't even tell what he's complaining about!"
"The Lady Monstaed's late husband had leased several prime properties in the city to Ladysluck Tower," Mifano explained patiently. "Lady Monstaed recently rejected the renewal of those leases and transferred them, and the rents they provide, to another temple." He cleared his throat. "By the way, you have an appointment with Lady Monstaed tomorrow to thank her for her generosity."
Feena twisted around to stare at him in angry surprise. Her sudden, sharp movement drew the immediate attention of everyone else in the room. Colle broke off his tirade to scowl at her.
"Does the Moonmistress-Designate perhaps have an opinion on this matter?" he asked, eyebrow arched.
"I…" Feena fumbled for wordsthen shot a beseeching glance at Mifano. He sighed and leaned forward once more, whispering words that she repeated out loud. "I'm sorry to hear of your loss, High Luck. Our temples should stand as united in Yhaunn at large as they do within this council."
If Mifano had spoken the words himself, they would have emerged gracefully, an acknowledgement of Colle's complaint that was soothing without actually being an apology and thus a confession.
From Feena's mouth, they came out as wooden and stilted as a bad lie. Colle's face turned red with rage. Feena bit her tongue. Again. She had been doing it frequently for the past several days.
Dhauna Myritar had given no explanation for her actions at the Full Moon Blessing. She hadn't even spoken to Feenaor Mifano or Velsinoreinstead closeting herself in her quarters and refusing to respond to any and all protests. She didn't even come out for meals, instead sending Julith down to the temple's refectory to fetch a tray. She might as well have left Moonshadow Hall entirely. Feena felt like she wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. Velsinore and Mifano, she was quite sure, woul
d be happy to hold one up for her. Preferably one that was very big and very heavy.
But she had agreed to help Dhauna, hadn't she? And no matter what opinions she, Mifano, or Velsinore might have had on the matter, the simple ceremony of succession had been performed. Dhauna had at long last named her successor. A successor undeniably responsible for fulfilling the duties that the High Moonmistress could notor would notcarry out.
Feena of Arch Wood village, Moonmistress-Designate of Moonshadow Hall. Bound by her word to Dhauna and her duty to Selune. At least Mifano and Velsinore had the pleasure of seeing her fail miserably at every turn.
The informal council of Yhaunn's religious leaders was only the latest disaster. In spite of Mifano's reluctant coaching, everything she did made her feel like nothing more than a backwoods yokel attending a high society dinner. She was fairly certain that most, if not all of the high priests and priestesses present had also immediately recognized that she was a werewolf. Colle had taken one look at her and flinched away, as if avoiding something unclean.
It didn't help that Velsinore had peevishly insisted on outfitting her in Selunite high regalia. Moonshadow Hall's seamstresses had hastily altereddrastically-some of Dhauna's old vestments to fit her. Feena had never worn so much fabric in her life. Layer upon layer of crinolines poofed out her skirts, a tight bodice made it difficult to breathe, and a high collar of starched lace scraped her neck every time she turned her head. Topping it all off, a coronet decorated with the mark of the approaching half moon dug painfully into her skull.
The wolf in her longed to run back to Arch Wood with her tail between her legs.
Just as it seemed Colle was about to heap another indignity on her already throbbing head, Mifano spoke up. "Your pardon, High Luck, but isn't one of the teachings of Tymora 'conduct yourself as your own masters, showing your good or bad fortune as confidence in the Lady'?"
Colle turned his scowl on Mifano, but quiet snickers were already rippling around the table. At its head, Endress Halatar, the elderly high priestess of the goddess of joy, laughed out loud and said, "He has you there, Colle. Grin and bear your fortuneyou've been beaten." She nodded to Mifano. "Well played!"
"But I…" Colle ground his teeth in frustration and spared one final glare for both Feena and Mifano, but sat down.
Mifano leaned back with a smug look on his face. Feena held back a glower of her own. The silver-haired priest had turned her awkwardness to his advantage.
"I believe that's all of our business," said Endress. "We meet again in one month at" she rifled through some papers. A twitch crossed her smiling face" Moonshadow Hall."
Uncomfortable silence fell across the table until Mifano broke it. "We look forward to welcoming you all."
He rose gracefully. Feena tried to stand as well, but the expansive volume of her skirts stuck between the arms of her chair and threatened to bring it up with her. Without looking down, Mifano offered her his arm while bracing one foot against the chair's leg until she had managed to pull herself free. Chin held high, Feena took his arm, and they paced out of the room. She tried to ignore the renewed round of snickers that followed her.
Velsinore was waiting when they arrived back at Moonshadow Hall. "Moonmistress-Designate," she said, "there's a matter we"
"must discuss," Feena finished for her. If there was anything she was growing to dislike more than tending to matters outside of Moonshadow Hall with Mifano, it was tending to matters within the Hall with Velsinore. "What is it this time?" she asked in resignation.
"The New Moon Beneficence." Velsinore turned as she spoke and walked briskly through the gate into Moonshadow Hall, the Waning Crescent sword banging against her leg. Feena had to hasten to follow, lengthening her stride as best she could in the billowing skirts.
"What's the New Moon Beneficence?" she asked.
The nights of the new moon were generally a quiet and contemplative time for the followers of Selune, a recognition of the only time that the moon didn't sail the sky. Feena couldn't recall any significant events of Selune's worship that took place during the dark of the moon.
"A charity feast instituted by Mother Dhauna several years ago," Velsinore replied. She turned along an inner corridor, heading for the long hall that was the temple's refectory. "She conceived of it as a way of extending Moonshadow Hall's good works in the city. All who wish to attend are welcome, whether they follow Our Silver Lady or not, and together we drive back the darkness with song."
As she spoke, a warm note entered Velsinore's voice. Feena looked sideways at her. She had known Velsinore almost as long as she had known Mifano, though not so well. When she and Mifano had been novices and later acolytes together, Velsinoreseveral years their elder-had already been a priestess, with little time and less patience for her juniors. Ironically, she had ended up in charge of the acolytes' dormitory. She had found a swift distrust for Mifano and his flirtatious manners, but it had always seemed to Feena that she reserved a special and immediate dislike for her. If punishments were handed out for bad behavior, they always seemed to fall more heavily when Feena was involved. Eventually they had developed a cool distance that had enabled them to get along, and before she left Moonshadow Hall to rejoin her mother in Arch Wood, Feena had even discovered a grudging respect for Velsinore. The priestess might have been cold and stiff on the outside, but her passion and devotion ran deep.
"That sounds like a wonderful way to pass the new moon," Feena said.
"It has been one of Mother Dhauna's wisest innovations," agreed Velsinore. "As the new moon is less than a tenday away, it's past time to begin planning the next Beneficence. The High Moonmistress has always been closely involved in the celebration. I presume you will want to keep up that tradition."
Feena's stomach sank. "You want me to speak at the feast?"
"It is expected." Velsinore pushed open the doors of the refectory. The temple's cook waited for them beside one of the dining hall's long tables. The table had been stacked with account books. Velsinore gestured toward them. "But for now, you need to plan the menu."
Feena stopped dead. "What?"
"You need to plan the feast," said Velsinore. "Idruth can give you suggestions, of course." She laid a hand on the stacked books. "These are accounts of our food stocks and of the sums budgeted for the event. You'll find menus of previous Beneficences as well, if you want to follow the easy path and duplicate one of them. Naturally, I can understand if you would prefer"
"Velsinore," Feena interrupted, "is this really necessary?"
She fought to keep anger out of her voice, but didn't succeed. The cook flinched back. Velsinore stood firm. When she answered, her voice was cool. "The Moonmistress-Designate assumes the High Moonmistress's duties, does she not?"
Feena's hands were trembling. She forced them to be still.
"Fine," she growled. She glanced at Idruth and the cook flinched back another step. "A side of beef," she ordered, "and four- young pigsmore to round out the servings if that's not enough to feed the number of people who come"
"Ah, meat," said Velsinore. She picked up a reed pen and made notes on a scrap of parchment. "Of course."
Feena sucked in her breath. "What do you mean by that?"
Velsinore looked up from the parchment. "Nothing at all, Moonmistress-Designate." Her voice was as calm as ever, but her eyes were hard. "Now," she asked, raising the pen, "would you like all this meat cooked or should we just leave it raw?"
Wo^f. Beast. Monster. Velsinore didn't say it, but she didn't need to. It was clear where her feelings lay.
Feena whirled aroundskirts rustling, bodice clenching, coronet pinchingand stormed out of the refectory without another word. In the hallway outside, novices and clergy alike scrambled out of her path. Feena strode down the hall and up the ramp to the temple's second floor and Dhauna Myritar's quarters. She raised her fist and hammered on the door.
"Mother Dhauna!" she shouted. "Let me in." There was no response. Feena pounded on the wood again. "I'
m not. going away this time, Dhauna. We're going to talk!"
There was still no sound from the other side of the door. Feena reached down and rattled the latch. It was locked. Feena took a step back, hiked up the froth of her skirts, and threw her shoulder against the door. Then again.
With the second blow, wood splintered. With a third, the lock tore free and the door slammed open. Feena released her skirts and stomped through.
There was no one in the High Moonmistress's quarters. Everything seemed to lie just as it had on the evening when Feena had first arrived, but neither Dhauna nor Julith were present. Feena clenched her jaw. Could they have slipped out of Moonshadow Hall while she was away at the council of temples? When Dhauna had spent so much time shut away, it hardly seemed likely that she should suddenly leave.
Feena's eye fell on the books and scrolls that were piled in the sitting room. "I have even more spread out in the archives," Dhauna had said that first evening. Feena turned and walked back out into the corridor.
On its east, south, and west sides, Moonshadow Hall was relatively low, the better to allow Selune's light to enter the central courtyard. On its north side, however, it rose higher. The entire top floor of that height was occupied by the temple's archives, which were reached by a narrow, little-used ramp located along a dark corridor conveniently close to the quarters of the high priestess. Unlike the high priestess's quarters, though, the archives were protected by a substantial door that was banded with iron and secured with a heavy lock. Normally the lock was open so that any member of the clergy, should they feel the desire, could consult the archives. It was locked.
Feena pounded on the thick wood and called, "Dhauna! Julith! I know you're in there. If you don't open this door, I swear by the Bright Lady of Night that I will get an axe and chop it open!"
A faint flutter of noise from within suggested that she hadn't been wrong and that her threat had been heard. A moment later, the door opened. Julith grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind her.