Mistress of the Night (24 page)

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Authors: Don Bassingthwaite,Dave Gross

BOOK: Mistress of the Night
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Feena's hand strayed to her medallion, caressing the nicked and worn surface.

Moonmaiden have mercy on Mother Dhauna, she prayed silently. Let her wake tomorrow and remember nothing but peace.

She wished she could hope for the same.

The street opened up ahead of her, broadening into a wide plaza before the keep that hunched over the city gates. Like many of the merchant cities of Sembia, Yhaunn seldom closed her gates, even by night. At so late

an hour, though, the guards on duty did take extra care with who they let in—and who they let out. Feena found herself waiting behind a tall riding horse that had been loaded down with bulging saddlebags like a common mule. One of the gate guards was inspecting the bags dubiously while his partner questioned the horse's dismounted rider.

"Hey, Grat," he called forward. "Seems he packed like a half ling in a hurry, too!''

The other guard's voice rumbled off the stone walls of the keep, "Packed in a hurry, riding fast, wanting to get out the gate later than an honest man has reason to—if you don't want to tell us where you're headed to, maybe you want to tell us what you're running from."

"Look," argued the rider, "I swear I haven't done anything wrong. I just want to leave."

His voice was angry, but also frightened. And strangely familiar. Feena stepped around to the other side of the horse. The man who clutched the animal's reins as if they were his mother's apron strings was Keph Thingoleir.

She ducked back and her nose wrinkled. Based on what she had seen from Keph in the Stiltways the other night, she could easily guess at any number of reasons he might feel the need to get out of Yhaunn fast. Whatever it was, with so much stuffed into his bags, it didn't look like the young man was coming back any time soon.

Feena pressed her lips together. It was tempting to simply slip away and let the guards deal as they would with Keph, then come back later. Keph had, after all, sneered at her offer to return his aid. Anything he was running from, he probably deserved.

But what if Stag and Drik had started looking for revenge? He didn't deserve that.

In spite of what the young man might think, she did owe him.

"Moonmaiden's grace," she cursed. "One last time and never again!" She drew herself up and stood tall, then stepped out from behind Keph's horse, carrying herself with the poise that Julith had taught her. "Goodmen!"

All three men stared, Keph most of all. Feena stopped in front of the guards.

"I speak for Moonshadow Hall,'' she said. "I will vouch for this man. Let him pass."

The guards glanced at each other. Annoyance crossed the face of the one that had been examining Keph's bags and he started to speak, but his partner, deep-voiced Grat, slapped him across the gut.

"Your pardon... uhhh... priestess," he said with gruff respect. "Do you have any way to prove your authority?"

He stared at her rough country clothes with some uncertainty, but Feena caught his eye and held it.

"I am Feena Archwood, Moonmistress-Designate of Moonshadow Hall." The words slipped off her tongue too easily. She had to force herself not to tremble at what had become nothing more than a brazen lie. She lifted her chin and held Selune's medallion up for them to see. "If that's not enough to satisfy you, you may call on Guard Captain Manas. I'm certain he will be pleased to come down at this hour and confirm my identity."

Grat swallowed. "Ahh... I don't think there's a need for that, Moonmistress." He glanced at Keph. The young man was still staring at Feena, his eyes so wide they looked ready to pop right out of his face. "This one has the look of someone with something to hide, though."

"He did me a service some nights ago, sir," Feena told him. "If he passes through the gate in my charge, will you let him go?"

"I...we..."

Grat looked to the Other guard. Feena raised an eyebrow and turned to Keph.

"Does the city guard have any reason to pursue you?" she demanded. "Have you broken any of the laws of Yhaunn or Sembia?" Keph blinked and shook his head mutely. Feena looked back to Grat. "In Selune's name, I say that I believe him. Let us pass."

Grat stared at her—then stepped aside. "Thank you," Feena said. "Mount, Keph."

The young man scrambled to obey.

"Do you not have a horse, Moonmistress?" asked the second guard, obviously suspicious. Feena turned her glare on him, and he flinched away. She put her back to him and marched on to the gates.

A moment later, hoofbeats followed, quick at first then slowing as Keph caught up to her and matched the pace of his horse to her stride. The young man stared down at her with an expression of awe.

"Feena, I-"

"Keep quiet," she hissed.

The slow rhythm of his horse's hooves was the only sound as they passed through the gates and out of Yhaunn. The road to Ordulin stretched out in the starlight before them. And beyond Ordulin... Feena drew a deep breath. Arch Wood village. Home.

She could tell that Keph was watching her, sneaking quick, confused glances in the darkness. She didn't say anything, and somewhat to her surprise, he didn't say anything either.

Too arrogant to admit he was wrong in rejecting me before, Feena thought, too ashamed to find I've come to his rescue this time, and too startled to find that the countrywoman he scrapped alongside is also a haughty priestess.

Her mouth twisted. No, she reminded herself. That's not me. I'm not that woman.

She started to turn aside, toward the stand of trees that housed the little clearing where she'd first encountered Stag and Drik. She could change there. Her wolf form was more suited to travel, especially at night—even if the thought of becoming the animal that had attacked Dhauna put a knot in her stomach.

"Good night, Keph," she said. "Safe journey."

"Feena?" The young man twisted in his saddle and asked, "Where are you going?"

"There's a path," she lied. "My journey lies that way."

"Wait. I'll come with you."

He pulled on the reins, turning his horse. Feena stiffened.

"What?" she asked. "Why?"

She couldn't quite make out his expression, but Keph's voice was tight. "I need..." He choked, hesitated, then seemed to change his mind. "Thank you for helping me," he said.

"You helped me at the Cutter's Dip," she said. "I owed you."

"I told you that you owed me nothing, but you helped me anyway." He urged his horse over toward her and asked, "Can I travel with you?"

"I don't need your protection, Keph."

The words came out more harshly than she'd intended. Keph was quiet for a moment.

"Sorry," he said finally. "I didn't mean to say you did. It's just... It's a dark night. I'd like the company. Please."

Feena glanced toward the trees. In her wolf form, she could move fast, trimming a day or more from her travels, but...

One night won't make a difference,'her knotted gut argued. Stay human for one more night.

"All right," she said, and her stomach relaxed. "We'd best stay on the road though."

"What about the path?"

"I'll pick up another one later."

They walked in silence until Keph shifted uncomfortably and said, "Feena, do you mind if I make a light?" "There's nothing to see."

"The dark is getting on my nerves." He turned and reached for his saddle bags. "I have a sunrod..."

Feena clicked her tongue. "Too bright," she said. "We wouldn't be able to see anything beyond it. Let me."

She picked up a fist-sized stone from the road. A prayer to Selune brought the glow of a full moon to it, bright enough to dispel the darkness around them, not so bright as to completely spoil their night vision.

"Better?" she asked, passing the stone up to him.

He hesitated before taking it.

"Thank you," he said.

He settled the stone into the crook of his arm, cradling it, then looked down at her. In the magical light, she finally got a good look at his face. He still seemed thunderstruck at her presence. She looked away uncomfortably.

Most of the land in that part of Sembia was farmers' fields and pastures. Low hedgerows separated fields from the road. Feena listened to the rustlings of small creatures in the hedges as their illuminated passing disturbed the nocturnal activities of mice, small birds, and badgers. A fox crouched in the shadows, eyes gleaming.

"You never asked me where I was going," Keph said with the abruptness of someone desperate to break a silence.

Feena glanced up at him and replied, "You didn't ask me where I was going either."

She looked back to the hedgerow. The fox was gone. Keph hadn't even noticed it.

"So," he ventured, "where are you going?"

"Arch Wood."

His face creased. "That's northwest of Selgaunt, isn't it? Right on the border with the Dalelands? It's a long way."

"My village is there." "Ah."

They walked a little farther.

"What's your village like?" he asked finally.

"Small," said Feena. "I suppose it's more of a hamlet, but no one there would ever admit to it. There's only a few houses clustered around a mill really, with a blacksmith on the other side of the mill run. My mother's cottage—my cottage," she corrected herself, "is out beyond the smith's."

"It sounds nice," Keph said. "Why are you going back?"

"I've had enough of Yhaunn," Feena said. She managed to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "Moonshadow Hall has lots of priestesses. Arch Wood needs me back." She looked up at Keph and asked, "What about you?"

He shrugged and said, "Ordulin, I guess. Then maybe Selgaunt or Saerloon."

"Wherever the road goes?" asked Feena. Keph nodded. "You did leave Yhaunn in a hurry, didn't you?" When he nodded again she asked, "Am I going to regret helping you?"

He fell silent, his eyes suddenly dark. Feena frowned. "Keph?"

"You might," he said.

He took a deep breath and drew something out of his pouch, then opened his hand to let it dangle from his fingers.

A disk of Shar.

Feena gasped and leaped away, eyes searching the night for signs of an ambush.

"Feena!" Keph shouted. "It's not what you think!"

He kicked his feet free of his stirrups and slithered out of the saddle, still clutching the glowing stone in one hand and Shar's symbol in the other. Feena whirled to face him.

"Stay back!" she growled at him, stepping away. He held his arms wide and said, "Please, listen to me. This isn't a trap." "What is it then?" "I need your help," he pleaded.

Feena stared at him in shock. There were tears running down his cheeks. His outstretched arms were trembling.

"I didn't know you were a Selunite, Feena. I swear I didn't. I wouldn't have helped you if I had—not then, anyway. And you know I didn't expect to see you at the gate tonight. But now..." He choked. "Selune is Shar's enemy, isn't she? You have to help me, Feena. Please. I'm running away!"

She stared. A Sharran running away... Her stomach convulsed. Her chest—still aching from sobs—heaved.

And she laughed. A short, bitter bark. Her mouth twisted.

"Well," she said. "I guess that makes two of us."

Selune was slowly sliding down against the night sky behind them. In the eastern distance, Yhaunn threw up almost as much light as the slivered moon, the combined glare of thousands of lanterns and torches a stain of brightness in the dark. Because the city was sunk down in its quarry, that stain was really all there was to see of it. It was strange, Feena thought—Yhaunn was only really there when you were right down in it.

She and Keph sat together on a hilltop not too far off the road, looking back the way they had come, the glowing stone set between them. Down along the hill's slope, the young man's horse chomped contentedly at summer dry grass. Its pale hide shone ghostlike on the fringes of the magical moonlight.

Feena took a pull at a bottle of surprisingly good wine—Keph really had packed his bags in a rush—and passed it back to him. He drank as well, then stared at the bottle without saying anything.

"There's no rush, Keph," she told him. "Take your fime. We still have half a bottle left."

Keph sighed. "There's not really much else to tell. After the dream, I knew there was only one thing I could do." He sat with one leg stretched out and the other bent, one arm draped around it. He took another gulp of wine, then rested his cheek on his arm. "I was wrong about so much, but Variance, Jarull, Bolan—Shar—none of them were going to let me go easily. If I stayed, what would happen to Adrey? To the rest of my family?" He looked up. "So I ran."

"You can't outrun a goddess, Keph."

"But I can try to keep anyone else from getting hurt, can't I?"

"You can do that." Feena stretched out her arm, and Keph gave her the bottle. "Wouldn't Mifano and Velsinore love to see this? As if they didn't have enough to turn against me, I'm sitting and drinking wine with a Sharran."

Keph snorted and said, "Just this morning, I wouldn't have even thought about having wine with a Selunite. Let alone the werewolf who killed Cyrume."

Feena growled under her breath and bared her teeth.

"The Sharran at the well in the Stiltways?" she said. "I didn't kill him."

Keph looked at her, surprised.

"But everyone says—"

"If I'd had to," Feena said. "I would have. He was going to poison that well." She drank from the bottle. "But I didn't have to. He killed himself rather than face me. He died with Shar's name on his lips. I didn't touch him. But Moonmaiden's grace, I'd like to know who did! It's almost as if I were being set up." She took another sip and set the bottle aside. "Why would this Cyrume try to poison the well anyway?"

"As an act of devotion to Shar, I suppose," Keph said sourly. "We—" His face twisted. "Sharrans are supposed perform a dark deed at least once every tenday. Jarull said poisoning the well was Variance's idea. Apparently the cult was smaller and a lot less aggressive before she came along."

"That would probably explain why Moonshadow Hall had no idea they were in the city." Feena stared back at the stain of Yhaunn. "Where did she come from?"

"Jarull says the Temple of Old Night beneath Calimport."

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