The Moon Coin (The Moon Realm Series)

by Richard Due

  The glint of a dagger flashed in Tavin’s hand, and he parted the ropes binding his knees and ankles with a single stroke.

  “Stupid child,” he sneered. “We could’ve been caught, with all the time you were taking.”

  A feeling of rising alarm pierced Lily’s woozy thoughts. She turned her head in the direction Dubb had gone, taking a deep breath.

  But Tavin had anticipated her thoughts. Before she could scream, he made a small hand gesture, uttering a strange sound. Instantly, Lily felt paralysis grip her body. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t even blink. Using the edges of her vision, she watched helplessly as Tavin stole toward one of Arric’s wards. His back was to her, so there was very little that she could make out, but by the placement of his elbows, it appeared he was holding his hands about stomach height. From the way his elbows moved, it seemed he was manipulating something in his hands. Then Lily noticed a reddish-purple light that must have been coming from whatever he was holding.

  After that, the world darkened about the edges. Lily’s fright had cleared her head sufficiently to realize that she had been duped. But she couldn’t worry about that. She had more immediate problems—like breathing. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t draw in a breath of air. All she could do was watch and listen.

  Tavin paused at his work and muttered something in a language that the moon coin couldn’t translate, followed by something that it could.

  “Well, well, well, my little friend, look at all these fiendishly clever surprises you have left for me.”

  White sparkles filled the edges of Lily’s vision, and a fuzziness descended on all her senses.

  Breathe, she thought. Breathe.

  Then there was nothing.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Egg-Hunt

  Lily woke to voices.

  “He couldn’t have—he’s Dragondain.”

  Dragondain! thought Lily. When did the King’s guard arrive?

  “Your ward must have failed,” said a voice Lily recognized as Dubb’s.

  “No,” protested the first voice. Arric? “They’re still in place! Dara helped me examine them—”

  “It’s true, Dubb,” said a woman’s voice.

  Lily tried to open her eyes.

  Why can’t I see? Why can’t I move?

  “They’re fully intact,” Dara continued. “Any one of them would take me hours to deconstruct, if I didn’t trip it first.”

  “Dara!” gasped Arric. “Form your peerin and train it on Lily.”

  Lily heard feet shuffling close by in the dirt. And then she felt a strange sensation, as if someone had opened her up like a window and shone bright beams of sunlight into her dusty corners.

  “Why can’t you wake her?” asked Dubb. “What’s going on?”

  “There’s something . . . on her,” said Arric.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some kind of enchantment. Do you see it too, Dara?”

  “Yes. But what is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s all over her,” said Dara. “Could this be from a dark peerin?”

  “Dark peerin!” said Dubb. “Are you saying a blackmage was here last night?”

  “No,” began Arric. “If this were something from a dark peerin, we wouldn’t be able to see anything at all. More likely, it’s something very old.”

  “Or very new,” interrupted Dara. “Arric, what do you think this part is—here?”

  “That is something she must have cast.”

  I cast? thought Lily. Okay, now you have my full attention.

  “Are you saying Lily’s a lunamancer?” asked Dubb.

  “Not necessarily,” said Arric. “It’s not exactly an enchantment, although I don’t like calling it a ward, either. I think it’s something else altogether.”

  “So, you’re saying that this thing that Lily cast could have been stored in something, like an amulet or a ring or—”

  “Or a pendant,” interrupted Dara. “Is that a necklace around her neck?”

  “Yes. And that’s stranger still. Look at the lines of power that have formed between the necklace and what’s she’s cast.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. How much longer do you think she can last?”

  “She must be getting a little air somehow. She did make it through the night, after all. But I don’t see how—”

  “Arric, look at these places!”

  “Where?”

  “Around her throat . . . near her temples. The spell attacking her looks damaged here, as though it’s unraveling. What if we tried to help it along here, here . . . and here—”

  Lily felt the muscles of her chest constrict. She wanted to scream from the sudden jolt of pain, but she couldn’t inflate her lungs.

  “Don’t touch that!” said Arric hastily.

  Breathe, thought Lily.

  “Well, now, there’s something unexpected,” said Arric.

  “Did we do that?” asked Dara.

  “No. That came from her. Lily, can you hear me? If you can hear me, do that again. But concentrate very, very hard on it.”

  Breathe!

  “Arric! She’s made a weak spot.”

  “No . . . I don’t think so. I think that’s another trap.”

  Though still unable to move the rest of her body, Lily felt a new strength. She blinked open her eyes for the first time since she had fallen unconscious. She lay on her side, in the dirt, frozen in place like a toppled statue. Dara and Arric were kneeling next to her, peerins drawn. Each was awash in a different colored light: Arric’s face was lit by fiery reds, Dara’s by blues. Behind the two of them stood Dubb, bent at the waist, hands on knees, his eyes focused intently on her face.

  “Lily,” said Arric, “wait for my signal.” While holding his peerin, Arric twitched several of his fingertips; he spoke a phrase the moon coin couldn’t translate. “Do you see my plan, Dara?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “On three. One, two—now, Lily. Fight!”

  Breathe!

  Lily’s paralysis dissolved all at once. Suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of her limbs, she collapsed onto her stomach, as helpless as a beached jellyfish. Her first lungfuls of air came in uncontrollable spasms. The air was cool, piercing, and filled with dirt and dust.

  Lily struggled to push herself upright, but her muscles, twitching and jangling, refused to obey. Dubb and Arric lifted her into a sitting position. Lily scuttled backwards until she bumped against a large stone, next to the smoldering remains of last night’s fire. She blinked back the early morning light. The sky was full of moons and faint stars.

  Half a dozen people had gathered, and Dubb knelt before her, his blue eyes twitching over every detail of her face.

  “Lily,” he said, with gentle urgency, “what do you remember? What happened here? Where is Tavin?” She could hear his alarm rising with each new question.

  “He did it,” said Lily, adjusting her collar to hide the little bit of necklace showing.

  “Who?”

  “He tricked me. He seemed so nice, so reasonable. Then he tried to kill me!”

  Dubb looked puzzled. “Who? Who tried to kill you?”

  “Tavin! Why did you leave me with him? He was kind at first, then he started talking about the dragon’s eggs and how you brought one here to lure the mother dragon. He promised he’d come back. He gave me his word as a gentleman.”

  “Gentleman.” Dubb blinked a few times, momentarily stunned. He turned away and looked imploringly at the faces of those standing near him, more confused than worried. “Gentleman?”

  “Tavin?” said someone in the crow
d.

  “A gentleman?” said another.

  Dubb turned his attention back to Lily. “Tavin’s no gentleman.”

  “I know that now!” said Lily.

  “And we’ve taken no eggs. We don’t even know where the clutch is.” Dubb became more agitated. “How did he leave this place? Who came here to get him? And who threw this spell on you?”

  “He threw it. He did all of it. He tricked me—”

  “Who? Who threw the spell?” shouted Dubb.

  “Tavin!”

  Dubb jumped up and backed away. “Tavin? But that’s not possible! Tavin is Dragondain. He’s incapable of using magic—even if he wanted to.”

  “Dragondain?” said Lily in a bewildered voice. “Dragondain are valiant and true! Tavin is no Dragondain!”

  “Lily,” began Dubb. “Listen to me. It is true the Crown has stripped Tavin from our ranks, but I swear to you: you will find no truer heart.”

  “He paralyzed me.”

  Dubb’s face fell.

  “He said something that I couldn’t understand and flicked his wrist at me. Then he stood over there.” Lily pointed to where Tavin had worked on Arric’s ward. “He kept his back to me, but he was working something with his hands. He said something about a friend having left him fiendish little surprises. And then . . . and then . . . I don’t remember any more after that.”

  “Dubb,” said Arric, “it sounds like he was looking at my ward—with a peerin.”

  Dubb’s face darkened with anger. “That’s . . . not . . . possible!” he said.

  “He called me a useless maggot,” said Lily softly.

  Dubb wheeled around, reached down, and gripped Lily’s shoulders.

  “Had he drawn it?” he asked, now sounding desperate. “When he called you that, had he drawn it?”

  “Drawn what?”

  “His sword!” Dubb’s fingers dug in. “Had he drawn his blade from his scabbard?”

  Lily thought back, but she already knew the answer. She remembered very well everything that had happened last night—right up to the point where she blacked out.

  “No. I’m certain of it. His hands were still bound when he called me that.”

  Dubb sprang backward again. He spun around and scanned the horizon. “The moons are in motion,” he hissed. And then, to Arric, “It’s learned a new trick!” Dubb’s face was red with fury.

  “Dubb,” said Dara, “we have to find him.”

  “He has quite the head start. Tracking Tavin will be like tracking a gust of wind. Boots, wake Marred. We’ll need to travel light and fast. I’ll take Andros. Maybe Quib.”

  “It won’t be easy getting Quib to leave that dragon,” said Andros. “He’s barreling its organs. And you know how particular he is about—”

  “Then he can stay, but we’ll need to borrow his whip.” Dubb raised his voice. “Listen up. I’ll say this but once. I believe this girl before you is Lord Autumn’s niece.”

  Everyone pivoted toward Lily, looking at her through new eyes.

  “Trust me when I say: if she were to fall into Wrengfoul’s hands, it would quicken the death of us all. Lily must reach the safety of Bairne. That is all that matters now. Do not let her out of your sight.” Dubb locked eyes with Lily. “Should it become necessary, defend her to the expense of all your lives—she must not be taken.”

  Lily felt the strength drain from her limbs. “You can’t be serious . . . to the expense—”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but if I don’t return by tomorrow, get her to Ember.”

  Dubb strode away, Andros right behind him. Lily could feel people staring, but she could think of nothing to make them stop. All die, she thought, for me?

  Fires flickered throughout the camp, producing an oily black smoke that burned the eyes and clung thickly to the ground. Lily watched as the men and women stumbled about, dead on their feet, but struggling for one great purpose—to harvest the dragon.

  At first, Arric would not let Lily wander. She spent the first hour following him around while he added wards around the entire camp. By his third casting, he had removed his robes, his face covered with a sheen of sweat. By the fifth, he had opened his shirt and rolled up his sleeves.

  The other lunamancers prepared no wards, but they followed Arric on his rounds, worried expressions creasing their faces. At one point, they all gathered around him and did something like a laying on of hands. After that, he seemed better for a time, though they themselves looked much worse for the effort.

  When Arric finished, he collapsed onto a pile of rags and fell into a fitful sleep. Boots, the bowman, took over Lily’s care then. They climbed to the highest point in the camp, where he carefully laid out several quivers’ worth of arrows. With one arrow notched in his bow but not drawn, he took up a keen watch.

  Boots told Lily she could have the run of the camp as long as she remained within his sight, and the morning passed quickly. Lily was pleased to find she could help. There was much to do in this dragon-dismantling business. Not a single scrap was overlooked. The first and largest project was the hide, which dulled blades so quickly that a grinding wheel had been set up. The big stone wheel was cranked by hand in shifts and did not cease until nightfall.

  They didn’t use ordinary blades. The lunamancers took shifts standing next to the wheel, peerins drawn, working spell after spell into the dull blades until their tips glowed white hot, edged in blue. They cut from underneath, anywhere an opening had been made in the hide, but they could cut only a few inches at a time before returning to the grinding wheel for a new edge and more spells.

  They cut the meat loose in great strips, and dried them over hastily erected drying racks in what had once been adjoining rooms. The floors there were black with ash and grease. Even the dripping fat was periodically scraped up and barreled. Quib took special care overseeing the entire process. There were tendons to be harvested, and he didn’t want them damaged by the act of a hasty hand.

  They cracked open the bare bones, removing and storing the marrow. They saved the claws and teeth; horns, tongue, and jaws; and the spines that jutted out like cat whiskers. At one point, Lily discovered Quib nearly crying at the state of the poor dragon’s punctured eyes, but even there he salvaged the tough secondary membranes, along with every bit of colored iris he could find. All of the internal organs were placed in barrels and topped with brine, or dried, pulverized, and powdered. The blood was barreled, too. When they got to the dragon’s heart, Quib finally broke down into heaving sobs: Tavin’s cursed sword had cut it nearly in two. The emptied bones were buried in white hot embers until they were clean of tissue. Once cooled, they were stacked onto one of the waiting wagons. Lily spent her time serving bits of food and cups of water to the workers. She helped tend the fires, which burned all day, creating great clouds of greasy black smoke.

  The afternoon passed quickly. Lunch was a small bowl of mildewed beans. Lily had a terrible time explaining to Quib what it meant to be a vegetarian. He kept saying things like, “Well, I could spare you a bit o’ brains. They’re not meat, right?” and “At least let me ladle on a good heapin’ bit o’ the grease, eh? No meat in that!” Twice, Lily had to grab his ladle and push it away from her bowl. “But how will you grow?” he asked.

  Once the sun dipped below the horizon, smoking, guttering torches marked the edges of the camp. Arric finally arose from his nap and posted himself near the grinding wheel. He was deep in thought, but now and again he would casually flick off a spell into one of the passing blades. Arric’s blades, Lily noticed, held an edge for far longer than the ones sharpened by the other lunamancers.

  An hour after nightfall, Boots lit a torch and waved it in the air, instantly gaining everyone’s attention. He tossed the torch out toward the camp’s perimeter. It kicked up dust where it fell, but continued to crac
kle and burn.

  “From that direction,” called Boots, pointing past the torch. “Better hurry up, Arric—by the sound of it, they’re moving fast.”

  Arric ran to his ward and formed his peerin. A small crowd gathered behind him. As Lily watched, she again noticed the reddish light that bathed Arric’s torso, and though it seemed to be coming from his peerin, she could see no source—just the empty peerin.

  After several minutes, they heard footsteps crashing through the brush. At what seemed like the very last second, Arric stepped aside as though he were opening an invisible door, and Andros, with Tavin on his back, thudded into the camp and collapsed. Tavin, bound in a cocoon of rope, flopped onto his belly and lifted his head to look at them with wild, uncomprehending eyes. Two pulsing veins stood out on his forehead. A dirty rag gagging his mouth muffled his screams. Andros let out a great groan and rolled onto his back, still trying to catch his breath.

  A few seconds later, Dubb staggered into the camp, barked a few orders, and trudged off to the crumbling inner keep. People ran everywhere, doing his bidding.

  Marred was the last to return, and he immediately called for Quib. Like Dubb, Marred was drenched in sweat.

  “Take this . . . thing,” he spat, holding out Quib’s whip. “Right wicked, that is!”

  Quib took the whip and held it to his waist. Like a living thing, it coiled around his belt and then went slack.

  “What happened out there?” Quib asked quickly.

  “I tracked him back to the clutch—”

  “You found the eggs! Did you—”

  “Yes, but . . . we were too late. He’d destroyed them all.” Marred spoke quietly.

  Quib placed his hand on Marred’s shoulder.

  “It had to be done,” whispered Quib. “You know that.”

  Marred licked his lips and nodded, but it was clear that he felt differently.

  “Was it a long way?” asked Quib.

  “No, but it was very well hidden. Finding Tavin was what kept us.”