Crystal Moon

by Elysa Hendricks

intelligent insights. No matter the tragedies or hardships, in

  Aubin’s company no one remained downcast for long. His death

  had snuffed the joy from life. Until Sianna.

  What would Aubin do? Kyne’s heart knew the answer.

  Could he follow his head in this matter? At what cost?

  “Are your thoughts so dark, brother?” Katya placed her

  hand on his arm.

  “As black as a moonless night.” He turned to face his sister.

  “How fares the warrior woman?”

  “Though her wound was severe and she lost much blood,

  she does well. First Graham, now Lisha. Without Sianna they

  would both be dead. I don’t know what magic she wields, but I

  thank the Eternal One for it and her.” Awe and affection rang

  in Katya’s voice.

  “What of your hatred of her? She is still DiSanti’s daughter.”

  He refrained from revealing Lisha’s true identity. Sianna may

  have earned Katya’s devotion with her saving of Graham, but

  Laila was as yet an unknown quantity.

  Katya’s eyes darkened with pain, but she held his gaze.

  “Love is stronger than hatred. Sianna herself is evidence enough

  that her father’s crimes are not hers. Do you really doubt her?

  I know you too well. If you thought her guilty of Aubin’s murder,

  you would not have taken her to your bed.”

  Kyne started to protest.

  “No, don’t deny it. I may be as yet unschooled in physical

  matters between men and women, but I am not blind. I’ve seen

  the way you look at each other.”

  “You see too much,” he grumbled and shoved the prince’s

  message into her hands. “Read this.”

  She smoothed out the wrinkled parchment and leaned

  toward the fire for better light. Her brows drew together as

  she digested the words. “You cannot seriously consider this.”

  “We have few options. DiSanti wasted no time gathering

  his forces. Prince Timon and our men are under siege.”

  “DiSanti attacks the royal palace, and the Council does

  nothing?”

  “The province ministers bend like river reeds with the wind.

  They wait to see which side proves stronger. If they are swayed

  in DiSanti’s direction, the monarchy will fall. A wedding between

  Prince Timon and Sianna will draw DiSanti from the shadows

  so he can be dealt with.”

  “And guarantee Sianna’s death. When she is found pregnant,

  her fate will be a gruesome one.”

  “We have no evidence yet that she carries Aubin’s babe.”

  But what of his own? The thought rocked Kyne, but he

  continued. “I have a tenday to appear with Sianna at the palace.

  DiSanti holds Queen Theone and Princess Thomasa. He

  threatens to execute them before the palace walls if Sianna

  does not marry Prince Timon on the morn of the tenth day.”

  “He wouldn’t dare. The Council....”

  “...strongly favors the match. They are old men, afraid for

  their own skins. To pacify DiSanti they will delay action until it

  is too late. The prince is but ten and four. Will he have the

  strength to stand and watch his mother and sister murdered

  when he could save them by agreeing to marry an eligible young

  woman?”

  “There must be another way.”

  “Think of one and I will consider it. Otherwise, I must take

  Sianna to the palace.” Somehow he would find a way to protect

  her.

  “If you can condemn to such a fate the woman who may

  carry your brother’s babe, I shall consider both my brothers

  dead.” Katya’s voice broke as she tossed the royal missive into

  the fire and fled.

  Kyne watched the heavy paper smoke and curl as the fire

  licked at its edges. In seconds the letter burst into flames and

  was gone. If only his plight were so easily dispensed with.

  Katya spoke true. After the marriage ceremony a royal

  bride was examined by the king’s zard. While the prince could

  either ignore her lack of virginity or annul the union, if found

  pregnant, she would be sentenced to treason—a crime

  punishable by impalement on a spike. Though unused for over

  three hundred annum, the penalty remained law. Kyne knew

  that when the prince had made his suggestion, the old law did

  not concern him. He considered Rul Cathor an honorable man.

  Once Prince Timon joined with Sianna her fate would pass

  out of Kyne’s hands. If she carried his babe, she would die.

  The image of Sianna broken and bloody made his gut churn.

  Perhaps a royal zard could be persuaded to lie? Unlikely.

  Notoriously independent, the mystical holy men rarely followed

  orders—even royal ones—succumbed to bribes, or gave in to

  threats.

  And if she were not pregnant? She would be queen. Sianna

  would make a great queen. Loyal, just and loving, she would

  mold Prince Timon into the king he was meant to be. Under

  their rule Dramon could not help prospering. Why didn’t the

  thought ease his mind?

  Even if it destroyed his ka to keep her safe, it fell to him to

  assure his seed did not quicken inside her. Althea would have

  knowledge of how to prevent a pregnancy.

  “KYNE CATHOR!”

  Graham’s roar echoed throughout the great hall. Kyne

  winced. People stopped at their morning chores, and heads

  turned. Katya had wasted no time in carrying the tale to Graham.

  From the shadows Sianna watched Kyne move across the

  hall like a reluctant boy called to task by an angry schoolmaster.

  But his words banished any humor. Marriage to Prince Timon

  was no longer an option. She searched for a trace of Kyne’s

  emotions, but found nothing. He hid his feelings behind an

  unscalable wall. Though he’d promised her nothing, his betrayal

  cut deep.

  Foolishly, she had thought to heal these people of the wounds

  inflicted by her father, and in doing so find a home for herself.

  Against her own blood she offered her love and loyalty to Kyne

  and his people. Would death be her reward?

  Her hand settled protectively over her flat belly. Already,

  she sensed the new life quickening within her. While she might

  offer herself to save Kyne and the others, she could not forsake

  her child. She had to flee. But to where?

  Kyne’s tale of a place of peace hidden in the depths of the

  Azul Mountains gave her an answer.

  She would find Andacor.

  A short time later, with a pack of provisions concealed

  beneath a cloak she had borrowed from Kyne, Sianna left the

  castle amid the steady procession of people headed to the fields

  to glean the last of the crops before the snow fell in earnest.

  Frost crunched beneath her boots, and her feet struggled for

  purchase on loose stone.

  Without Warda, the space at her side seemed as empty as

  her heart. Dosed with a mild sleeping draught, the hound

  remained locked inside Kyne’s chamber. She refused to risk

  the faithful beast’s life in her attempt to escape.

  The well-traveled trail down the mountainside beckoned.

  Instead, she chose the path leading further into the mou
ntains.

  When Kyne found her missing he would not think to search the

  higher reaches for her. Perhaps he would even believe she had

  fled to her father’s side.

  A feeling she couldn’t express in words drew her toward

  the sheer blue peaks. Despite their cold, harsh facade, she

  sensed a warmth radiating from the center of those craggy

  rocks. Ever since she had watched with Kyne as the blue twilight

  burst across the valley, she had known that some day she would

  search for Andacor. She had hoped he would be at her side.

  Though her heart was far from pure, she prayed for

  guidance. The one growing within her deserved a chance at

  life, no matter how slim.

  Early morning bled into midday, and like a fading dream the

  castle vanished behind the mountainside. Browned foliage gave

  way to stunted trees and boulder-strewn slopes. The higher

  she climbed the less the sun warmed the thin air. Shivering

  inside Kyne’s heavy cloak, she picked her way along the nearly

  imperceptible path. Her lungs ached with effort, but she pushed

  on. By now Kyne would have discovered her absence. In case

  he somehow guessed her direction, she had to put as much

  distance between them as possible.

  Churning grey clouds obliterated the last rays of the waning

  sun. As night approached, the temperature dropped. Cold, snow-

  laden wind tore at her cloak and froze the moisture on her

  cheeks. Afraid she would weaken and turn back, she fought

  the urge to reach out for Kyne.

  When he learned she was gone, what would he do? What

  would he feel? He would pursue her, but for what purpose? As

  a pawn in his struggle against her father? Or to save her from

  her own recklessness?

  A loose rock turned beneath her foot. With a cry of pain,

  she went down. Sharp stones scraped her palms. Cradling her

  hands to her chest, she sucked in the salty smell of blood along

  with thin, icy air, and looked around the barren mountainside.

  Doubts began to eat at her resolve. Her hand moved

  unconsciously over her belly. Was it better to die pursuing a

  dream than to meekly accept an unjust death?

  She stood, and her feet carried her forward despite her

  misgivings. Where was she going? Andacor was a myth. How

  could she seek sanctuary in a nonexistent place?

  Even when Katya first abducted her, Sianna hadn’t felt so

  frightened and alone. Her ankle throbbed in time with the rapid

  thud of her heart.

  Stones rattled down the trail. She froze. Something moved

  toward her without regard for silence or caution. Kyne’s

  warnings of the sardak and big cats that called the mountains

  home made her breath grow ragged. Absorbed in her thoughts,

  she’d ignored the warnings her empathic nature provided.

  Scooting on her backside until she bumped against a large

  boulder, she clutched a rock in her aching hand and scanned

  the growing gloom for whoever or whatever followed her.

  Soft sobs sounded in the silence. Seconds later, a small

  form emerged from the shadows. The rock fell from Sianna’s

  fingers as she scrambled to her feet and limped toward the

  crying child.

  “Zoa, what are you doing here?” She picked up the shivering

  girl and enfolded her close to her chest beneath Kyne’s cloak..

  “I heard Father and Katya arguing about you. Then you

  left. So I followed, but it got cold and dark. I got scared. Can

  we go home now?” A ragged cough shook Zoa’s tiny frame as

  her tears subsided to muffled hiccups against Sianna’s breast.

  Though healed of the lung sickness, Zoa was far from

  strong, and the thin, cold mountain air took its toll on her limited

  stamina. If Sianna didn’t see her warm and dry, Zoa could well

  fall sick again. What had she thought to accomplish by running

  away? She had acted without thinking. Now her lack of faith in

  Kyne threatened not only her life and that of her unborn babe,

  but Zoa’s as well. She shivered in cold and pain.

  Night covered the mountain slope. Later, if the clouds parted,

  the joined moons would rise and cast their red glow, but for

  now they couldn’t travel.

  “I’m cold, Sianna. Can we go home?” Zoa asked again.

  Sianna carried the child over to the boulder and settled her

  against it. “Rest here. I’ll light a fire, and you’ll soon be warm.”

  Start a fire with what? She looked around. Vegetation was

  scarce along the rock-strewn path, but there were a few stunted

  thorn trees. Her palms stung as she broke branches from one

  and gathered an armful of dry leaves. Though the wind had

  died, fat, wet flakes of snow drifted from the dark sky and

  quickly blanketed the world in white.

  “I want to go home.” Zoa started to cry.

  “We have to wait for the storm to let up, then we’ll go

  home,” Sianna promised.

  Zoa’s tears trailed away. She nodded. “Father will come

  for us.”

  Yes, Kyne come for us. Like a prayer, Sianna opened her

  heart to him and sensed a response, felt his fear and

  determination as her own. For that moment they became one.

  Then the connection snapped, and she was again alone.

  “I’m cold, Sianna.” Zoa’s teeth began to chatter.

  The child’s shift and leggings did little to shield her from the

  cold. Sianna bundled Zoa securely inside Kyne’s cloak. In

  minutes the girl’s breathing eased and her eyelids started to

  droop.

  Left in only her tunic, Sianna shivered. She used the rock

  to strike a spark, then coaxed a flame to life. Billowing smoke

  from the green wood burned her eyes and throat. She choked,

  but the fire caught and held. Soon a cheerful blaze lit the

  whitening world with a reddish glow, but she knew the small

  supply of branches would not last through the night.

  Moisture trickled down her cheeks as soft and silent snow

  continued to fall. Sinking back on her heels, she held out her icy

  fingers to the fire. What had she done? Her fear and lack of

  trust in Kyne now endangered another. Neither her own fate

  nor that of her unborn babe could take precedence over Zoa’s

  life. No matter the risk, come first light she would take the child

  home. She would tell Kyne of the child growing within her and

  trust him to keep them safe. With her decision came a sense of

  peace.

  Next to her Zoa stirred and poked her head from under the

  cloak. “Who is singing?”

  “It is just the wind.” Sianna crawled beneath the cloak and

  tucked it securely around them. Meager warmth crept over

  her. “Now, go to sleep.”

  “They sound like angels.” Zoa’s voice trailed away into

  slumber.

  Beneath the wail of the wind, voices filled the air with a

  beguiling song. Sianna strained to decipher the words, but though

  the sound was clear, the meaning was not. Purity rang in those

  sweet voices, wrapping her in a sense of peace and comfort.

  Surely the singers would help Zoa and her. Cold and fear

  forgotte
n, she stood and followed the sound into the darkness.

  ***

  “Saddle Hakan!” Fear lent strength to Kyne’s roar.

  His cloak flying like the wings of some great bird of prey

  preparing to pounce, he stormed across the great hall. People

  scattered. He pushed past a woman serving last meal. Her

  tray tipped. Plates clattered to the floor. Food splattered. Etam

  darted out to do Kyne’s bidding.

  Katya chased him into the courtyard and grabbed his arm.

  “Where are you going?”

  He whirled around. “Sianna’s run off. I found Warda in my

  chamber. Drugged. I’m after her.”

  “In this weather? Alone?” Katya matched his long strides

  toward the stables. “By the moons! She must have heard us

  talking. Where would she go?”

  Feet dancing over the snow-covered cobblestones, Hakan

  emerged from the spangles of white filling the air. He snorted

  and shook his head, throwing a shower of snow from his already

  dusted hide. At his side, Etam struggled to hold the beast.

  “To her death.” Kyne leapt into the saddle. He sawed the

  reins, forcing Hakan’s head around, and prepared to kick him

  into a gallop.

  Katya snatched Hakan’s bridle. “Kyne, wait!”

  “Let loose.” The thick mantle of falling snow muffled his

  shout.

  “Which way will you search? It’s near dark. You can’t

  chance the trail. The snow will have erased her tracks. Why

  not wait until morning?”

  “There’s no time.”

  “Then I’ll go with you. Etam, saddle Deju.”

  “No.” Katya’s rational words calmed his first rush of panic,

  but nothing could ease the fear eating away at his heart. Because

  of his rash words, Sianna wandered the mountainside, frightened

  and alone, easy prey to predators and elements.

  Why would she flee? Not for fear of marriage to Prince

  Timon. By her own admission she was resigned to her father’s

  plans for her. Only a babe growing in her womb could send her

  fleeing into the night. With her knowledge of healing she could

  easily rid herself of a babe. Instead, to protect that babe—his

  babe—she had dashed headlong into danger.

  He pulled Hakan’s head free of Katya’s grip. “Come first

  light organize a rescue party and search the downward trails.

  Rouse Warda if you can. He can track her. Tonight I’ll head