Crystal Moon

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Crystal Moon Page 6

by Elysa Hendricks


  would soon become suspicious and realize I was not what you

  claim.”

  “You flirt with danger, woman. If the people below discover

  your identity, they will tear you limb from limb. I doubt even I

  could keep you safe from their wrath.”

  Fists clenched at his side, he towered above her. Though

  she could not read his emotions, his body told the tale clearly. If

  he touched her now, his feelings of fury and frustration would

  swamp her.

  He stalked her across the small space and stopped when

  they were a breath apart. “You will do as I say.”

  She backed away until the bed blocked her retreat. “No.”

  Ducking past him, she scurried around the table and faced him.

  “But I will give you my word of honor I will not try to escape.

  Nor will I cause harm to any here.”

  “Honor?” He snorted. “What would DiSanti’s daughter

  know of honor? Like the nika plant, the flower is just as deadly

  as the root.”

  “Perhaps, but the nika root is a powerful anesthetic as well

  as a deadly poison. Roasted and blended with other herbs, the

  flower makes a drawing poultice. Only when eaten raw does

  the flower enslave its victims. Do not be quick to condemn

  something because of its misuse by another. In the right hands,

  the nika plant can do good rather than evil. I am not my father.

  Trust your instincts.”

  She held her breath while he deliberated.

  After a moment, his body lost its rigid stance as he admitted

  defeat on this point. “You are right. I cannot keep you under

  lock and key without raising suspicions, nor can I keep you

  always at my side. But...”

  His sudden smile made Sianna nervous.

  “...perhaps I have the next best thing. A guard.”

  “Guard?”

  Kyne gave a soft whistle. From a dark corner next to the

  chamber’s fireplace a shape rose and lumbered forward into

  the light. A sense of approaching menace slid over Sianna as

  the beast came into view, its claws clicking against the stone

  floor.

  Though no taller than the wolve hounds below, this creature

  possessed twice their bulk and muscle. Yawning, it revealed a

  muzzle filled with long, yellowed teeth. Its mouth shut with a

  snap. Deep-set, intelligent eyes watched her with interest.

  “Warda, guard her,” Kyne told the beast. “From now on

  Warda will be your constant companion. Attempt to leave the

  castle grounds, and he will restrain you. And beware. Unlike

  me, his bite is much worse than his bark.”

  After Kyne left the chamber, Warda stared longingly at the

  door, then turned his attention to Sianna. She felt his curiosity

  and caution.

  Kyne had chosen his guard well. Warda would not question

  Kyne’s order, nor speak of it to others.

  Still, exhilaration rushed through her. She’d won the freedom

  to move around the castle and grounds.

  Triumph was short lived. A tired sigh slipped through her

  lips as she sat down at the table. The task ahead loomed large

  and daunting. Healing took an immense toll on a healer, both

  mental and physical. Did she have the strength and courage to

  help these people?

  Warda’s head in her lap shook Sianna from doubt and

  inadequacy. His dark, liquid eyes seemed to say, “You will do

  what you must, no matter the cost.”

  FOUR

  Cool, damp air swirled around Kyne as the door to his

  chamber clicked shut behind him. One lamp cast deep shadows

  in the empty hall. Below he could hear the muffled sounds of

  people settling for the night and smell the lingering aroma of

  last meal. Weariness dragged at him, but he needed to see to

  the welfare of his people. During his and Graham’s absence,

  confusion had fallen over the castle. Security and order had to

  be restored before he could seek his bed. Once there, he

  expected to find little rest. The image of DiSanti’s daughter in

  his room banished all hope of sleep.

  Someone lurked in the shadows. How he knew, Kyne

  couldn’t say, but many times he’d sensed the presence of another

  without physical evidence. More than once in battle his ability

  had saved his life. Though he gave no outward sign, Kyne tensed,

  waiting for the person to identify himself and offer a reason for

  his presence. No one stepped forward into the light. Who hid in

  the shadows outside his chamber? His fingers closed around

  the handle of his knife, and he slipped silently out from under

  the lamp’s glow.

  He paused. Guided by instinct, he whirled around and

  pounced on the intruder, pinning him against the wall, a knife at

  his throat. The person grunted at the impact of Kyne’s body,

  but offered no resistance.

  “Je’al?” Kyne loosened his grip, but kept his knife poised

  at the younger man’s throat. “What are you doing here? Did

  you plan to finish what you started?” Stepping back, Kyne pulled

  Je’al into the light. “The woman is a valuable pawn. I

  overlooked your first attempt on her life, but I cannot allow you

  to succeed, nor can I allow you to disregard direct orders. Speak

  up, man, what are you about?”

  “You’re right, Rul. I foolishly let my emotions guide my

  actions with the woman. As much as I wish her dead, I realize

  now she is more valuable to us alive.”

  “Then why are you skulking outside my chamber?”

  “I want to volunteer.”

  “Volunteer for what?”

  “Someone will have to deliver your message about his

  daughter to DiSanti. I want to be that someone.”

  Kyne sheathed his knife and studied the young man. At ten

  and seven annum, Je’al had a man’s build, but despite the trauma

  of his young life, he was yet a boy. “It is too dangerous. DiSanti

  is apt to kill any messenger I send.”

  “Let me do this. Aubin was my friend. He saved me from

  death at the hands of DiSanti’s men and from despair when my

  family fell. I could not protect Aubin, but I can do my part to

  see justice done. Who else would you send? Graham or one of

  the older men? They are needed to train the others. Which of

  your men is expendable?”

  Je’al was right. Someone needed to convey the message

  to DiSanti, and whoever did so faced the possibility of death.

  “Very well. Tomorrow I will draft my letter to DiSanti, and you

  will carry it. In the meantime have last meal, a bath and rest.

  Speak to no one of the woman. If any were to learn of her

  identity, your trip will be for naught. A sardak is not lured from

  his lair by dead bait.”

  “Thank you, Rul. You’ll not regret your decision.” Je’al

  hurried away as if afraid, should he linger, Kyne might change

  his mind.

  Kyne watched the young man leave. The fact that he found

  himself more concerned with the woman’s safety than he did

  with Je’al’s bothered him. Other than a means to destroy

  DiSanti, she meant nothing to him. He would do well to

  remember that her f
ragile appearance and gentle ways hid a

  soul as black as her father’s. Her denial of guilt, her claim of

  being a healer and wishing to help his people, were nothing but

  clever lies designed to deceive him. He couldn’t let his unwanted

  lust for the woman sway his decisions.

  “Why do you haunt the hall?” Graham’s voice came out of

  the darkness.

  Lost in his thoughts of the woman, Kyne had let Graham

  approach without detection. She was dangerous in more ways

  than the obvious. “Je’al was here.”

  “Where is he now? Is she unharmed?”

  Even Graham thought first of their captive’s safety.

  “He volunteered to carry my message to DiSanti.”

  “But that will be suicide.”

  “Perhaps not if we word the message correctly. Come,

  we’ll use your chamber to draft my letter. Je’al leaves at first

  light.”

  “Have you decided how best to use the woman against her

  father?”

  “I believe I have.”

  ***

  Sianna stroked Warda’s shaggy head and looked over at

  the bed. “You can come out now, Zoa.” Warda padded back to

  his spot near the hearth and settled down. How much of what

  she’d heard would the child understand? Sianna probed, but

  sensed no hostility.

  The bed covers rustled, and Zoa’s tousled head popped up.

  She yawned as if just awakening. “How did you know I was

  here?”

  “It’s a little trick I have. I can always tell when someone is

  near.”

  “How?” The little girl scrambled off the bed and trotted

  over to Sianna’s side. She panted at the effort.

  “Well, you know how you can smell if a person has bathed

  or not, or if they’re wearing scent?”

  Edging nearer, Zoa nodded, her gaze rapt with interest.

  “People also give off emotions, and I have a nose for it,”

  Sianna continued.

  Zoa leaned close and put her hand out to Sianna. “What do

  I smell like?”

  “Let’s see.” Sianna took Zoa’s hand and sniffed it. “Hmmm.

  I can’t quite tell.”

  “Maybe I need to be closer.” With that the girl climbed into

  Sianna’s lap. “Can you tell now?”

  The feel of the little girl’s warm, slight weight filled Sianna

  with a strange longing as well as a feeling of contentment.

  Enfolding Zoa in her embrace, Sianna nestled her nose into

  Zoa’s silky hair and breathed deeply. “You smell of sunshine

  and laughter. Good smells for the nose and the heart.”

  Zoa wrinkled her nose and giggled. “You smell like quinar.

  Can I learn to smell people’s emotions, too?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to teach anyone to do it.”

  “Father says I learn quick. I can do sums better than Etam,

  but,” she added with a flash of honesty, “he reads better than

  me. I’ll work real hard.”

  Sianna wasn’t sure if her talent could be taught, but time

  spent with the little girl wouldn’t be wasted. Like a fetid mist,

  the scent of illness hung over Zoa. If allowed, Sianna knew she

  could help Zoa’s lungs become whole again.

  Zoa snuggled close. “I’m glad you’re here. Etam says

  Father gets lonely because he sleeps alone. I get scared when

  I sleep alone. Father is so brave, I don’t think he gets scared.”

  “Everyone is afraid at times.”

  “Do you get scared?”

  “Often.”

  Soft fingers patted Sianna’s arm. “You’re safe now. Father

  will protect you.” Zoa spoke with the confidence of childhood.

  “He’s going to save everyone from the evil monster man and

  his ugly daughter.”

  Zoa’s words flayed Sianna’s heart. If the child understood

  the truth, she would hate Sianna. As would the other people

  below. The thought of that much hatred aimed at her made

  Sianna shudder. Their thoughts alone would destroy her. The

  enormity of the task she set herself loomed before her.

  A coughing spell ended Zoa’s declarations. Breath wheezed

  through the girl’s blue lips as she struggled for air. Instinctively,

  Sianna reached for her.

  To attempt a healing now was beyond foolish. Fatigue and

  hunger already sapped Sianna’s strength. A healing would leave

  her weaker still, but she didn’t fight her urge to assist. Splaying

  her fingers across Zoa’s back, Sianna shut her eyes. Warmth

  radiated from her hand as she concentrated on seeing Zoa’s

  illness. Colors swirled behind her eyelids, then a thick grey sludge

  crept across her vision, obscuring the pleasant kaleidoscope.

  A prickly sensation shot up Sianna’s arm and lanced through

  her chest. She gasped. Time ceased to have meaning as she

  absorbed into herself the disease destroying Zoa’s tiny lungs.

  Finally, Zoa’s spasms passed, and she leaned limply against

  Sianna’s chest. Though not yet completely healed, already Zoa

  breathed easier. A flush of healthy pink replaced the blue tinge

  around her eyes and mouth.

  The little girl stirred and blinked in confusion. “I have to go

  now. Grenna gets mad if I’m late for bed.” Zoa slipped off

  Sianna’s lap and made her way to the door. “Can I visit you

  again?” she asked shyly.

  Too breathless to speak, Sianna smiled and nodded. Seconds

  later the girl was gone, leaving Sianna alone again with Warda.

  As if he understood, Warda moved back to her side, his yellow

  eyes watching her with concern.

  Never before had a healing taken so much of her, left her

  so drained. Then never had she attempted to heal with so little

  in reserve. These last few days of fear and hardship had taken

  their toll, leaving her unfit to use her skills. The Sisters had

  often cautioned her to practice restraint in the use of her talent,

  to give a little at a time rather than all at once, to build her

  strength before attempting to heal, but when she touched Zoa,

  prudence had fled in front of need.

  Bit by bit, the tight band around her chest loosened, her

  breathing eased as she struggled to regain equilibrium. She had

  given too much, too fast to recover quickly, but she couldn’t

  regret the healing she gave the child. Zoa would live, and given

  time, Sianna would regain her strength.

  How much time did she have?

  Heavy with fatigue, Sianna’s eyelids drooped and her head

  nodded forward.

  Warda whined and nudged her hand. The feel of his cold,

  wet nose roused her to stagger the few steps along with him to

  his place by the hearth and curl up on his rug. When he curved

  his shaggy body behind her, she sighed softly, but sleep evaded

  her long into the night as she coped with the aches and pains of

  an ill-planned healing and worry for her future.

  ***

  Last meal was long over before Kyne left Graham and

  made his way toward his room. Even the crowded main hall

  was quiet. Only the occasional murmur of a mother to a restless

  child broke the silence. The fire burnt low, casting flickering

  shadows over the p
eople sleeping nearby, while the rest of the

  hall lay in darkness.

  The greasy, undercooked meat and soggy, overcooked

  vegetables arranged on the tray he carried looked less than

  appetizing and tasted worse. But it was all he could find in the

  chaos that reigned in the castle’s kitchen. Waste ran rampant.

  Something needed to be done, or they would deplete what stores

  they had long before winter set in.

  Tomorrow he would consider this problem along with the

  others facing him. For now, he wanted to return to the meager

  comfort of his chamber and find what rest he could. At the

  door he paused. Rest? As long as she remained, he would find

  little rest within. Did she even now sleep in his bed? The thought

  of her slim body lying where he had lain made him shift in

  sudden discomfort.

  Anger surged through him. He refused to allow her presence

  to disturb him—in any way. Uncaring of the lateness of the

  hour, he shoved open the door and stomped into the room. His

  gaze flew toward the bed. The empty bed. The empty room.

  She was gone.

  He slammed the tray on the table and started to turn back

  toward the door. The little fool! Alone on the mountain she

  didn’t stand a chance of survival. If the elements didn’t claim

  her, a wild animal or some renegade would. Despite the risk,

  when he found her he’d put her under lock and key, if only for

  her own safety.

  Warda’s low whine made him pause, and he saw her nestled

  against the beast.

  Relief replaced rage. Kyne refused to examine the fear he

  had felt when he thought her in danger.

  “Stay, Warda.” He knelt next to the hound and looked at

  the sleeping woman. Still wearing Graham’s coat, knees to her

  chest, she huddled there. How innocent she appeared.

  Over the odor of quinar and wood smoke coming from her

  clothing, Kyne caught a lighter scent, reminiscent of a field of

  wild flowers after a summer shower. Fresh and clean, the smell

  tugged at him, luring him closer.

  Moonlight streamed into the chamber, bathing her pale flesh

  in a blue-white glow. Dark shadows circled her closed eyes.

  Like a veil of tangled black silk, her hair lay around her shoulders

  and down her back.

  The heavy mass tempted him. Would it feel as soft as it

  looked?

 

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