Mistress of the Night (30 page)

"How long has he been here?" he asked.

"Only a little more than two tendays," said Variance. She might have been discussing apples in a barrel for all the emotion in her voice. "But it probably seems much longer to him. The Lady of Loss is a harsh jailer."

"Then it was you all along. You took his place to draw me into the cult."

Variance just turned away and began walking back to the temple. Keph swung between her and Jarull. As the candlelight faded, the chained man's moans eased. His mad swinging turned into a gentle rocking. Keph took a step toward him, reaching out his hand.

"Jarull..."

His friend looked up. Bruised eyes widened—and he shrieked, scrambling away to press himself frantically against the wall.

Variance's voice floated back down the tunnel, "Come away from him, Keph."

Keph whirled toward her. "What have you done to him?"

"I haven't done anything. Come away."

The candlelight moved on. Clenching his teeth, Keph stumbled through the darkness after it. Variance waited for him at the entrance to the tunnel.

"Why?" he snarled at her.

"Motivation," she said calmly, "in case your loyalty proved less than I expected."

The elation he had felt, believing he had cast an orison, the joy he'd felt when Variance welcomed him back into Shar's grace after his encounter with Lyraene ... "Ask me anything, Variance," he had said, "and I would do it. That's the debt I owe you."

He closed his eyes. He had been dancing to Variance's manipulations like a marionette on strings.

"What do you want?" he asked her.

He half-expected her to smile in triumph, but she didn't.

"Strasus Thingoleir has in his possession a collection of ancient artifacts recovered from the tunnels of Yhaunn a month ago." Variance's words were blunt, the instructions of someone who expected to be obeyed. "Among them is a set of black slate tiles hinged together like a book and inscribed with silver characters that defy translation. I want those tiles."

Keph stared at her. "How did you know about—?" He cut himself off. "Beshaba's arms. They were your goal all along. You've used me from the very beginning."

"Not the very beginning," Variance said. "It took me at least a tenday to identify you as the weakness in your father's House."

The weakness... Keph bit his tongue against a bitter laugh. So that's what he was.

"Well, this weakness isn't going to be enough for you," he told her. "My father has those tiles in his study. No one can get past the wards on it."

"You can," said Variance. "Just as you were able to place the magesbane in your brother's laboratory. Child of a doting, hopeful parent, the wards of Fourstaves House part for you." Keph's eyes narrowed and Variance smiled. "Did you really think the dust was just a whim? It was a test. You told Jarull about the wards and with some persuasion, Jarull told me. I had to be sure that it was true. Your misuse of the dust was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps Shar guided you."

"My father's study isn't my brother's laboratory. It's better protected."

"I have no doubt it is." Her voice hardened. "Retrieve the tiles and Jarull will go free. A simple exchange."

His hands curled into fists. "What if I can't get them?"

"Jarull will remain Shar's prisoner and I'll find another way to get the tiles."

Variance moved to one of the braziers that stood around the temple and lifted the lid. The smell of cold charcoal drifted out. A thin scrap of kindling lay beside the brazier. The dark priestess held it in the flame of the candle until it caught fire, then thrust it among the charcoal. She turned back to him. "I have no interest in seeing you fail, of course. I will provide a distraction to cover your theft."

"A distraction?" The thought chilled him. "What kind of distraction?"

"Mother Night?" Bolan's voice echoed from a tunnel. "Full dark has fallen. The faithful are assembled."

Breath hissed between Keph's teeth. "An attack—"

Variance's hand snapped up, holding him to silence. "Summon them to worship, Brother Night," she called back. "They will receive Shar's blessing before battle."

Keph caught the sound of Bolan's footsteps retreating up the tunnel. He looked at Variance, and she returned his gaze.

"Yes," she said. "An attack on Moonshadow Hall. The age old rivalry of Shar and Selune is brought into the open once more."

Keph's mouth gaped open for a moment before he swallowed and said, "But the memory you forced on Julith—you made her think I promised an attack. The Selunites will be expecting this. It's going to be a massacre."

"No, it would be a massacre if the Selunites were caught unprepared," said Variance. "Do you really want the distraction to be over so quickly? Don't think Shar's faithful so easily brought low. You know what they're capable of. Stand with me during the ceremony, Keph. The others need to see you."

"You want me to help you?"

Variance tilted her head and replied, "If Shar's faithful aren't properly prepared, the distraction will fail. Your supposed capture is the key to their inspiration. You need to be seen—and you need to be seen praising Shar."

Rage and disgust swept over Keph—rage at Variance

for manipulating him yet again, disgust at himself for allowing it.

"Do you have a plan for everything?" he spat. He felt like an angry child and just as helpless. Variance turned away.

Moonshadow Hall was in chaos.

Feena stole through the corridors of the temple, trying to stay unseen and out of the way. It wasn't easy. Any normal order she could have predicted seemed to have been erased. She had emerged from the archives to discover that the sun had set—her exhausted dreaming had carried through the entire afternoon and much of the evening. Any other night, Moonshadow Hall would be worshiping the moonrise. On a normal new moon night, Selune's faithful would be gathered in the refectory, celebrating Dhauna's New Moon Beneficence. But instead clergy, acolytes, and novices were everywhere. Some were clearly preparing for Dhauna's funeral. Billowing white drapes were being hung. White wax candles laced with silver dust were being set out. From the temple's mortuary came the sound of mourning chants as Dhauna's body was washed and prepared for burial.

But at the same time, other clerics roamed the corridors like dogs. They always moved in pairs at the very least, and all of them carried maces—most leaving the weapons hanging at their belt, but others clenching them tightly. When she happened to pass a window, Feena caught a glimpse of silhouettes standing up on the old walkways that circled Moonshadow Hall's round roof.

It was as if someone were preparing for an attack. Feena remembered the fear in Chandri's tones when she had asked Velsinore about Keph. Tales told among Selune's clergy spoke of Sharran uprisings that could leave shrines and temples in ruins. Was someone concerned that might happen in Yhaunn?

Feena bit her tongue and hurried on, the book of the

New Moon Pact wrapped in a sleeve of her robe and clutched tight. At least chaos set tongues wagging. If nothing else, it had been easy enough to find out where Julith was being held: the winter chapel, a great round chamber that had been built onto the north side of Moonshadow Hall in the distant past as a place for the clergy to worship when bitter weather made the open courtyard unbearable. Julith had been shut inside to await her judgment.

At an intersection of corridors, Feena peered around a corner—only to duck back as a pair of armed priestesses marched past. She caught her breath and willed herself to total silence until they were gone. They wore crested steel caps. The situation seemed to be escalating and to reach the winter chapel, she would need to pass through the temple's busiest areas. She wasn't going to be able to hide much longer.

A heap of abandoned drapes gave her an idea. Drawing the cowl of her robe over her hair, Feena snatched up the drapes and hefted them up in front of her face, then hunched down like an old woman bent under a burden. It was a pitifully crude disguise, but it would have to do. She picked her way carefully along the corridor, peering out past a fold of white fabric.

"When she first encountered another priestess, she tensed. The other woman just rushed past, however, intent on her own tasks. Feena sighed and started to relax a bit.

"Elder sister!" Idruth called. Feena's heart jumped. The cook called her again. "Elder sister! Do you have far to go?"

Feena picked a destination at random and said, "The northwest hall."

She half-turned and peeked at the cook from behind the wrappings. Idruth was lugging a great pot; the savory smell of stew drifted out of it.

"Come to the kitchen when you're done," Idruth ordered. "We have baskets of bread that need to get to the gate. The mob is turning ugly—they want their feast!"

She jogged past toward the temple gates. Feena turned to stare after her before darting away. Preparations for a funeral, fear of an attack—and the poor of Yhaunn had still come expecting the New Moon Beneficence. Another mad bend in the path of chaos!

The hallways grew quiet again as she moved farther back into the temple. Outside the doors of the winter chapel, she dumped her load of drapes. The tall doors had, over time, been covered with beaten silver and exquisitely decorated, but a simple wooden plank had been thrust between the handles to bar them. She lifted it free and swung one door open just wide enough to slip through.

Julith knelt in prayer before a broad silver font as large as a tub. At the sound of the opening door, she looked up in fright then gasped with relief.

"Feena!"

Her eyes were red from weeping. Feena rushed across the chapel and swept her up, setting the book of the New Moon Pact aside to more fully embrace the younger priestess. Julith trembled in her arms.

"Oh, Feena! It was terrible. What Keph said—did you know he was a Sharran? And to return and find Mother Dhauna..."

"Be strong, Julith," Feena urged, rocking her gently. "What happened to you? What's going on?"

Words poured out of Julith like wine from a pitcher. Her flight with Keph at her side. The unrelenting pursuit by Velsinore, Mifano, and the clergy of Moonshadow Hall. Keph's fall, their capture, the discovery of Shar's disk. Their imprisonment—and Keph's sudden change. His taunts, his rage, and his threats against Moonshadow Hall. His escape into Shar's own darkness.

"I was so afraid, Feena," Julith moaned. "For the longest time, it seemed like there was nothing I could do—then I just screamed and screamed until Mifano and Velsinore came." She slid out of Feena's arms to crouch back down at the base of the font. "They questioned me. Mifano worked out the riddle of Keph's threat: the moment of Selune's weakness is the new moon. Tonight.

Velsinore didn't—doesn't—believe him, but he forced us all back to Yhaunn anyway. And when we got here, Mother Dhauna..."

She covered her face with her hands, and Feena brushed her dark hair gently.

"I know," Feena said. "I was the one who gave her into Selune's arms."

Julith choked and stiffened, looking up with wide, terrified eyes. Feena forced back tears, or at least tried to. She felt wet warmth on her cheeks.

"The madness had taken her, Julith. She'd given herself over to the wolf. If there had been something else, if there had been some way to redeem her..." She reached out to squeeze Julith's hand. "Selune holds her. Remember her as she was, and mourn her later." There was a hollow in Feena's stomach, a dark misgiving. She clenched her jaw and continued, "Something is very wrong here. Keph and I talked. I knew he was a Sharran—" Julith gasped, but Feena shook her head—"He said he was trying to escape from Shar's cult. I know he was telling the truth. I can't believe he'd have such a change of heart or that he was even capable of escaping the way you say he did."

"But I saw him vanish," protested Julith. "And if you'd heard what he said to me... He was vile. He mocked us all for thinking we'd kept Shar's cult out of Yhaunn and he called me a fool for trusting him."

"He called you a fool," said Feena, "but he didn't mention me?" Her eyes narrowed. She stepped back from the other priestess and touched her medallion. "Bright Lady of the Night, reveal the secrets that darkness hides!"

Selune's soft power surged within her, then reached out toward Julith. Feena's eyes widened. All around the younger woman, the tattered remnants of magic flickered like shadows.

"What?" asked Julith. "What is it?"

"You're under a spell or something a lot like one."

Feena stepped forward again and put her hands on Julith's head. Taking a deep breath, she reached out with her faith. For a moment, it seemed as if she could feel the

chapel around her, its ancient sanctity a warm and comforting strength. She drew on that strength, weaving it together with her own.

"In Selune's name," she prayed, "let this magic be ended!"

Dismissing the spell of moonlight that Dhauna had conjured in the infirmary had been nothing, just Selune's power turned against itself. The magic that swirled around Julith was darker, more alien. Feena gasped as the shadows gave way before the bright lance of her prayer—only to seize it, holding tight and leaping back toward her. Her breath hissed between her teeth and her gut twisted, but she bore down with the whole force of her spirit.

"Be gone!"

Moonlight shattered darkness. Julith blinked and gasped. Feena's chest heaved as she lifted her hands away.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Moonmaiden's grace
" The fear that had clouded

Julith's eyes was gone and they shone in the light of the chapel. "There was a woman—a Calishite—a Sharran priestess. She stepped out of shadows and cast spells on me, then disappeared with Keph. She changed my memories!"

The hollow that had been in Feena's belly filled with ice as she remembered Keph's tales of the Sharran cult.

"Variance," she said. "Her name is Variance."

"There's something else," said Julith. "Keph asked her how she found him. She told him that Selune's clergy aren't all so faithful as the moon goddess might think. If she was telling the truth..."