The Moon Coin (The Moon Realm Series)

by Richard Due

  “Listen, Curse,” said Dubb, speaking to the sword, “if you want a sharpening, you’ll have to swear that you’ll not attempt to free yourself or cause any mayhem—of any kind—and that you will allow yourself to be sheathed without struggle as soon as you have been serviced.”

  “I swear no oaths,” it replied menacingly, “and certainly none to the likes of you.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Dubb, and he began to slide the sword back into the scabbard.

  Tavin’s face contorted, and he struggled against his bindings, bunching and releasing his muscles.

  “Wait!” said Curse. “Sweeten the pot.”

  Dubb’s face darkened. He clenched his teeth. “No! Now swear it!” he hissed. “Swear upon your lifting!”

  “Never!” it whined.

  Dubb began to slide the hilt back into the scabbard again. But just at the last second, an awful whine began.

  “Ahhhhh!” it screamed. “If I must!”

  “Then swear upon it! Swear you will lift yourself from this pathetic, chipped slag of metal you inhabit, never to plague us again with your pestilence should you attempt to free yourself or cause any mayhem, and that you will allow yourself to be sheathed without a struggle as soon as you are serviced.”

  “Ahhhhhhhh!” it screamed. “Ahhh, ahhh, I swear it! I swear it! For this time, for this one time—I swear it.”

  Dubb relaxed visibly. He tossed the stick into the fire, and resumed his place next to Tavin. Almost casually, he untied Tavin’s arms—just the arms, Lily noticed.

  Tavin massaged his biceps and flexed his hands for a few seconds before fumbling with a pouch on his belt. His hands were shaking, but in time, he produced both a sharpening stone and a small bladder containing oil. Still trembling, Tavin removed the long blade from the scabbard and began scraping. With each scrape, he grew calmer.

  Dubb put his hand on Tavin’s shoulder, rubbing and patting as one would a dog. “We’ve been out here too long,” said Dubb, sounding regretful. “We’ve got to get you back.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Lily whispered, horrified.

  “There is nothing wrong . . . with him. It’s the sword he bears. It’s cursed. And when we’re out of here, out of these wastes, he’ll be the better for it. I don’t know exactly why, but while we’re out here, it feeds on him, and as Curse’s strength grows, Tavin’s fades.”

  “Why doesn’t he just throw it away?”

  “He is unable to do that willingly. And if it is removed by force, he will sink into madness. But please, tell us about your time on Barreth and how you escaped that horror.”

  “It wasn’t a horror at all,” said Lily defensively.

  Tavin looked up at Lily as if this were the first time she had said anything about Barreth.

  “You were on Barreth?” he said, sounding genuinely concerned. “And the Rinn brought you here?”

  “No.”

  “Then how did you get here?” asked Tavin.

  Lily looked nervously at Dubb.

  “Go ahead.” Dubb nodded. “Show him.”

  Lily opened her riding cloak, pulling loose the gold chain from her garments. Tavin leaned forward as Lily revealed the pendant.

  “By the moons!” he hissed. “Lord Autumn’s moon coin!”

  “Lord Autumn?” said Lily. “Lord?”

  “Wait,” interrupted Dubb. “One thing at a time. Lily, put that away again, and do not let anyone else see it. I trust everyone here, but tongues do wag.”

  Lily tucked the moon coin back beneath her shirt.

  “Please, tell us more about Barreth,” resumed Dubb.

  Lily recounted much of what had happened on Barreth. But there were a few things she did not tell. She said nothing of the Tomb of the Fallen, nor what she had taken from there. She made no mention of Earth, Tanglemane, or anything about the strange dream she experienced during her approach to the Blight Marsh. But she gave a good account of the battle, the wirtles, the wyflings, Roan, and the meeting in the Great Hall before Greydor. Tavin expressed astonishment from beginning to end while Dubb seemed more subdued. The only exception was when Lily mentioned the name Ember—at that point Tavin grew subdued. They rarely interrupted and when they did, it was always for clarification of some small point, which Lily easily managed.

  By the middle of the story, Tavin had finished with his cursed sword and sheathed it. His eyes seemed clearer after that, and he appeared to have less trouble following the story. Near the very end, Quib arrived, bearing three steaming bowls: two of his dragon chili and one, which he handed to Lily, of just beans. He took much pleasure in the presentation, and would not leave until the meal had been tasted and commented on. When he departed, he did so with a strange shuffling dance. He even sang a little song, though Lily could not make out the words. After Quib left, she concluded her story with the arrival of Aleron.

  After a long silence, Dubb said, “Ember will be able to read those markings on the coin. She may even be able tell you something more about how it works.”

  Lily’s heart lightened. And she marveled, not for the last time, at finding friendly people waiting where the moon coin sent her. “I’d like that very much,” she said. “Maybe now you can answer some of my questions. Like, where exactly are we, and why did you have to kill that dragon, and why didn’t it have any wings, and when can we meet Ember, and—”

  Dubb raised a hand. “Wait . . . wait. I will answer all your questions, but not this night. We must harvest this dragon as quickly as possible, and we still have much to do. It is highly unlikely that anyone saw its breath, but we can’t risk being raided. This dragon will pay many debts.

  “I will, however, give you a few brief answers. These ruins are known by various names to those who draw maps. Most call it the Western Ruins, or just the Ruins, as almost no one ventures down the eastern road, where you will find another one quite like it. Others call it the Tower Ruins, but there are too many structures for it to have been just a tower. Personally, I think it was more than that. We call it, as our fathers before us called it, Perch. It sits on a high hill that marks the beginning of the fens and the end of the moors, which at one time held strategic importance.

  “We are many hours from Bairne. And as for the dragon, we have killed eight of the foul beasts in the last twelve years—one a year the last four counting. And as for Ember, she is a gifted lunamancer, a knowledgeable historian, and our friend. I will arrange a meeting for you as soon as I can. But how it is that the cats of Barreth know her, I know not. I find this news quite disturbing, but that’s her business.”

  Dubb glanced at Tavin, who cast his eyes downward. “We’re partly here on Ember’s business. She is worthy of your trust.”

  He stood up. “Why don’t you get some sleep? Quib will need all the help I can give.”

  Tavin offered his wrists, and Dubb rebound them tightly.

  “You go on ahead,” said Tavin. “I’ll just hang out here by the fire.”

  Dubb smirked at him and turned to leave.

  “Wait!” cried Lily. “You’re leaving me here?”

  Dubb didn’t get Lily’s point. He scanned the area for hidden dangers, and it hit him all at once.

  “Oh!” he said. “You mean Tavin?”

  Dubb considered Tavin for a moment. “I wouldn’t worry. He’s harmless . . . for the most part.”

  Tavin’s smile faded, as though offended at being called harmless.

  “Aren’t you?” Dubb asked.

  Tavin licked his lips and seemed confused.

  “Aren’t you, Tavin . . . harmless,” Dubb said more slowly.

  And then, having gotten it, Tavin perked up.

  “Harmless! Oh! Oh, goodness yes!” said Tavin, nodding his head. “Just like a little babe in the woods, I am.”

 
Lily narrowed her eyes at Dubb, who realized this was going badly.

  “Lily,” said Dubb, waving a hand toward Tavin, “he’s bound hand and foot. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “He’s . . . very heavily armed—and armored. He just slew a dragon nearly single-handedly—”

  Tavin snorted, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “I what?” he asked incredulously.

  “And he suffers from multiple personalities,” Lily continued, “one of which is quite unfriendly!”

  Dubb stopped talking. It was just making matters worse. Instead, he produced a few moth-eaten blankets from a leather sack and tossed them down. Using his foot, he kicked the blanket next to Tavin into the rough form of a bed. Lily quickly picked up the rest of her blankets, hugging them as though they were a giant teddy bear. She sat back down on the stone.

  “You will be safe,” said Dubb, backing away slowly. “I’ll have Arric place warding spells on all the entryways into this area. There are no more dragons about. You’ll be safe.”

  “But it’s not the things outside the . . . that worry . . .” But Dubb continued walking away.

  And then it was just Lily and Tavin. Lily leaned her chin on her blankets and stared at him. He in turn squirmed around in an attempt to look more relaxed, or, at least, as though he weren’t bound hand and foot. It didn’t really work. Then he smiled, and Lily noticed he had really nice teeth and a boyish dimple in one cheek. She began to ask a question, then thought better of it.

  After a short time, Arric came striding in and introduced himself. He was different from the rest. His eyes were almond shaped, and his skin was a shade or two darker. He was also better-kept. He wore no armor—just clothes, robes, and a fine pair of boots. “I won’t be but a moment,” he said confidently.

  He stepped away and flicked his hand as though tossing something small, accompanying the movement with a few quick syllables. Lily thought she could hear a slight sound after each toss.

  After the fourth toss, Arric frowned and looked down at his fingertips, as though something wasn’t quite right. Lily didn’t move.

  He repeated the tossing motion, in another direction, again accompanied by the quick syllables. He paused, standing very straight. He took a step toward Lily. Lily didn’t look up, but she sensed Arric’s gaze hanging on her. Lily closed her eyes and tried to think of being small, invisible, insignificant. Arric tossed out another warding spell, followed by a few more.

  “Everything all right, Arric?” asked Tavin.

  “It’s strange,” said Arric. He formed a peerin and scanned the campsite, peering through the rectangular hole made by his fingers and thumbs. He examined Tavin, his sword, the fire, and Lily . . . Lily for a long time.

  “Arric?” pressed Tavin.

  Arric brought his palms together, collapsing his peerin. He shook his head, as though to clear it. “I . . . I guess I’m just tired, Tavin,” he said sheepishly, before stumbling away.

  Lily went back to staring at Tavin, and Tavin went back to trying to look comfortable.

  “Why didn’t that dragon have any wings?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “Wings?” repeated Tavin, perplexed.

  “Yes. The dragon in the fountain has wings. The stone dragoyles have wings.” The dragons in the bedtime tales have wings.

  “Ah! As in the faerie tales from Rel’ Kah,” said Tavin. His face brightened with old memories.

  Rel’ Kah! thought Lily. Moon of the Faerie Queen: Faerathil.

  “Like Morgoroth the Devourer,” continued Tavin, glints of firelight dancing in his eyes, “Keeper of the Magic Flame. Greatest dragon in all the Moon Realm, to hear Lord Autumn tell it. And were they not the stuff of stories, I’d risk all my gold on our own Fendragon. Lord Autumn has no end of stories. He certainly spent many an hour filling my head with them.”

  There it was again: what was true and what wasn’t? Who was her uncle? Were her parents really her parents? Did they know about the Moon Realm? Or was that Ebb’s secret? All the emotions swirling around inside made her dizzy, and not a little sad. “They aren’t just stories,” she said softly.

  “Oh, but they are to me. And some of my favorites. Very exciting. I’ve repeated them to many a child. Never tired out one of ‘em yet.”

  First Rinnjinn, thought Lily, now Morgoroth and Fendragon. It was just too sad to think about.

  “So,” Lily began, in an effort to change the subject, “just why do they have to tie you up all the time?”

  “Ah—that. Well, you see, these days, I’m just a wee bit . . . cursed.”

  “You mean the sword is cursed.”

  Tavin glanced down at the hilt and scabbard attached to his belt. “Well, you can quibble about it all you want, but—cursed sword, cursed Tavin. We’re a matching pair, I’m afraid.”

  And this time, when Tavin smiled, Lily decided that while Dubb was handsome, Tavin was charming.

  “But it’s not all bad. No need to make it sound worse than it is.” He laughed jauntily. “Take right now, for example. Now that we’ve dealt with the dragon, now that it’s gone, I’m as sane as you or I.” You or I? Lily thought. “In fact,” continued Tavin, “now that I’m all better, I could be very helpful.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Lily.

  “Well, for one thing, there’s the clutch. Oh, I understand they’re busy and all with the dragon. They have their livelihood to think about, after all—”

  “What clutch?”

  “Dubb didn’t tell you?” Tavin asked, his voice trailing off.

  Lily shook her head slowly.

  “This dragon . . .” Tavin nodded in its direction. “It’s been a bad one. We’ve been hunting it off and on for two seasons now. It’s eaten its fill on the outer farms, far beyond the city walls, where the poorest of the poor farm. Animals, men, women, children, some smaller than yourself. A dragon that big needs to eat often. But its clutch—ah, that is a far more dangerous thing. And it’s out there.” Tavin tilted his head to the darkness beyond the fire.

  “How do you know?” asked Lily.

  “We found it, day before yesterday. It’s not very far from here, really. And they’re ready to hatch.”

  “Why didn’t you destroy them?”

  “We could have. But Dubb had a better idea. He took one of them in order to lure the dragon here. If we’d destroyed the eggs, the dragon would have fled, and there would be another clutch next season. A clutch we didn’t know the whereabouts of. No, we needed to destroy the dragon first. At all costs.”

  “You have a dragon’s egg here—ready to hatch?”

  Tavin nodded.

  “What’s going to happen to it?”

  Tavin pursed his lips. “Hm. Well, I suppose Quib has some sort of stew that calls for a dragon’s egg or two.”

  Lily made a face. “Why this place?”

  “We wanted to fight the dragon on familiar ground. On our terms.”

  “And Dubb will destroy the clutch tomorrow?”

  “If they don’t hatch before then, we’ll be okay. That’s what they’re betting on, but it’s an awful risk. And unnecessary. I could easily reach them before morning. I’m quite good in the dark, really.”

  “But you—”

  “Right! Yes, I know.” And Tavin held up his bound wrists. “There is this one small problem.”

  “But you’re saying you could be back before morning?” Lily heard herself saying.

  “Oh, absolutely. Two hours—three, tops.”

  “And you would come back right away?”

  Tavin laughed, leaned in. “Where else would I go? These are my only friends.”

  Lily couldn’t see a flaw in his logic, and he seemed so honest.

  “And you promise to come back right away?” aske
d Lily.

  “Promise? Most certainly. I give you my word as a gentleman,” said Tavin very earnestly.

  “And you’ll come straight back?”

  “Of course! What we harvest from this dragon must get back to Bairne. We have debts to pay. I have debts to pay.”

  Lily dropped the blankets from her arms and felt her head. It was warm, and she felt a little dizzy.

  Tavin presented his wrists and said, in a suddenly powerful voice, “Go on now, Lily, untie these ropes so I may save the children from the evil dragons. There were ten eggs in that clutch. Dubb will destroy the one we have, but I must destroy the other nine. Imagine, nine free dragons . . . they would be more than we could bear.”

  “Nine dragons,” Lily breathed. “Nine!”

  “Eating little children, along with their mothers and fathers.” Tavin’s eyes flashed fiercely.

  Slowly, Lily leaned forward and began pulling at Dubb’s knots.

  “Good, that’s it! We don’t want to let those little dragons get loose and grow up to be big ones!”

  Lily picked at the ropes. The longer she took, the more agitated Tavin became.

  “Hold on,” said Lily, rethinking her strategy. “I think I see . . . wow, these are really tight.”

  Tavin turned his wrists upward.

  “That one, Lily, start with that one.”

  “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s this one over here—”

  “No, it’s this one.” And Tavin again turned his wrists to expose the dangling strand.

  “Um . . . no . . . I’m pretty sure—”

  “Listen, you useless maggot! Grab that end! Right there!”

  Stung, Lily grabbed the suggested end and started working it clear, then she stopped.

  “What did you just call me?” she asked, still feeling strange.

  But now the ropes were uncoiling, like a snake struck dead uncoiling from its prey.