Mistress of the Night (35 page)

The same way Lyraene and the Sharrans had dealt with Quick: brute force. Attack the weapon, not the wielder. His hand closed on the leg of one of the stools. It was good, heavy wood. The seat of the stool was even heavier.

Keph surged to his feet and charged at the falcon, stool raised.

Lightning crashed against him, another thin, stinging stream. Keph sucked in his breath at the pain, but didn't stop. The falcon screeched again, spreading its wings. Before it could unleash another powerful burst, he twisted around and swung the stool with all of his strength and weight.

The heavy wood smashed into the bird with a crunch and swept it off its perch. It hurtled across the room to crash against the far wall with a metallic clatter. Keph darted after it. One wing bent back, its entire side bashed in, the thing lay on its back, struggling to right itself. Lightning crackled in wild arcs across its battered copper

feathers. Keph spun the stool around in his grip. Holding it upside-down by two legs, he drove the broad wooden seat down against the construct.

Metal crumpled and screeched. He hit the bird again. Blue sparks spurted out in a final cascade. Keph lifted the stool and peered underneath. The falcon lay against the floor like a broken toy. It wasn't moving.

Keph dropped the stool and staggered to the table with the coins and the silk-swathed object. He reached out and twitched the silk aside.

Shouts and screams echoed through Moonshadow Hall as Feena, most of her weight on Julith's shoulders, stumbled out into the cloisters. An acolyte racing through the cloisters nearly ran them down.

"What news?" Julith asked.

"There's no sign of the guard yet," the girl replied, gasping for breath. Her voice was very nearly hysterical. "There's something happening over in the Stiltways!"

"A distraction," groaned Feena with dreadful certainty. The guard would go there first, trusting thick walls and Selune's might to give Moonshadow Hall a chance to hold out on its own for a time. "No help from the guard."

"Carry that message, girl!" Julith said. "We must have faith in Selune. Let all her servants hold their ground."

The acolyte plunged on along the cloisters. Julith twisted her head around and Feena caught fear in her eyes.

"Are you sure about this, Feena?" she asked. "Yes," said Feena.

Her head was swimming. Her vision was blurred and fading. Her legs felt numb, cold, and heavy. She knew that if she looked back the way she and Julith had come—if she'd been able to look back—she would have seen a steady trail of bright red blood. She needed more than healing. Tyver had given her a clue.

"Do you know what will happen?" whispered Julith.

Feena managed a grin and said, "No."

A shudder wracked her. She didn't even have the strength to cough anymore. Her throat felt like it was filling with blood again. Julith turned away, her face grim.

"Ready, then?" she asked. "Last few paces."

Feena's heart fluttered with agony as they staggered together across the cloister and through the gate of the waning crescent. Moonlight, the last of her spell, still sparkled on the grass of the courtyard. More light winked in and out above, conjured by Selunites only to be blotted out by shadows called by the Sharrans—by Variance or Bolan.

Feena could make out arrows and stones littering the ground. At least some of the Sharrans' attacks had reached over the temple walls. The sacred space of the courtyard was empty of other people, though—Moonshadow Hall's defenders had other places to be.

The book of the New Moon Pact lay close to the blood-darkened grass where Mifano had fallen. Had Chandri's prayers rescued the silver-haired priest? Feena couldn't ask the question.

"Hurry, Julith," she breathed. She tried to point to the pool, but her free arm just flailed loosely. "Beside the pool."

The dark-haired priestess dragged her over and lowered her down beside the ancient stone wall around the pool, then raced to snatch up the abandoned book.

"What now, Feena?" she asked.

Feena prayed that her next guess was correct. "The first page," she rasped. "There's a rite..."

Julith opened the book and scanned the page. Stepping into the brightest of the light that shone from above, she raised the ancient text and read aloud.

"What time has consumed, not even gods can recall, but know this—these words were spoken by those who first made pact with the Moonmaiden, just as they were spoken by the last. This is the sacred rite of the New Moon." Her voice rose. "Selune, Moonmaiden, Silver Lady of the Night, hear me!"

"Hear me..." echoed Feena. The words were weak and faltering. She reached up and groped for the stone wall, dragging herself upright with trembling arms. "Selune," she prayed with all the strength she could force out of her battered body, "Moonmaiden, Silver Lady of the Night, hear me!"

"I have roamed in darkness—"

"I have roamed in darkness," repeated Feena. The words tore at her throat, but she forced them out anyway, speaking them as Julith read from the book.

"Shadows hold no fear for me. Under your light I have run the moon's road. I have known your bright faces: joy, strength, and wisdom. For your sake, I have held death itself at bay, but the Ancient Knight is swift—"

Up on the rooftops, there was a wail of pain. It ended sharply. Outside, Sharrans cheered. There was a hiss and patter like rain as arrows came falling out of the sky. Shouts from above heralded the reaction of Selune's faithful. Slings hummed and the shower of arrows came to an abrupt end. Julith's voice broke and she huddled down, but kept reading.

"—and I must be swifter!"

The hair on Feena's neck rose. Under the blood that stiffened her robes and caked her arms, she could feel her skin tingling. She heaved with weakened arms and numbed legs. The words were the oath of a warrior and she would not speak them sitting down. Bracing herself against the stones of the wall, she rose into a crouch. Her head spun, but she stayed up and the words poured out of her.

"By blood spilled, by my faith, give me your blessing and I shall be yours. I will strike down your enemies. I will be your claws and your teeth. Where darkness lies, I will be the unseen shield that defends the children of both sun and moon. Where they have fallen, I will make silent vengeance that no more shall follow. Where shadow gathers, I will be the secret light that turns it aside."

She heard dull thunder and desperate screams. The Sharrans had turned some kind of battering ram against

Moonshadow Hall's gates. Julith faltered, her voice almost fading away, but it seemed to Feena that she could hear the words of the oath in her heart, as if she had always known them both as a woman and as a wolf. She lifted her arm, reaching up toward the dark, shrouded sky. Her legs straightened. For a moment, she stood tall, ignoring the pain that stroked up and down her spine and the crippling ache that throbbed in her head.

"Selune, make pact with me for I have seen your hidden face! Between light and light, the new moon guards the night! Selune, make—"

Her vision faded. Her balance pitched.

"-pact-"

"Feena!" screamed Julith.

She caught her breath, struggled to force the last words out: "—with—"

She was falling. She twisted, trying to find her balance once more, but something pushed at her legs—the ancient stone wall—and she toppled over. Cool water closed around her. Air burst out of her tortured lungs and Feena choked on water. Her throat burned. One last bubble of air pushed through her mouth. Her lips shaped it with dreamlike hesitation, —me.

--- <§? ---

Black as Shar's own darkness. A double handspan wide and high. As thick as four fingers held together. Tiles of slate as thin as fine porcelain and marked on the front with silver writing that Keph's mind refused to recognize. Hinged like a book, Variance had said, but in truth not so much hinged as caught along one side in an arrangement of silver rods and clasps that bore a resemblance to both a cage and the setting of an elaborate piece of jewelry.

Keph stared at the book. No wonder it had so completely fascinated his father. No wonder Variance should want it. He swallowed.

"Guide me through this, Selune," he muttered, "and you have my service!"

He reached down and picked up the book.

The instant his fingers closed on the slates, a dark force pulsed through him like a dragon's roar.

------ <§>-

Variance gasped and staggered as the call that had tugged at her for more than a month faded. Bolan whirled.

"Mother Night, are you well?"

"Better," Variance breathed. Keph had The Leaves of One Night. She called out to the nearest shadow mastiff. "Seek the man who stood with me when I summoned you," she commanded the creature, pointing in the direction of Fourstaves House. "That way. Escort him to me!"

The beast growled and loped off. Variance drew a deep breath.

"Now, Bolan," she said, "we unleash our worst." She reached to her side and drew her chakram from her belt. "Mistress of the Night," she called, thrusting it high, "drive ice into the hearts of your faithful and let Moonshadow Hall be brought low!"

All around her, shadow mastiffs lifted their savage muzzles and let out a howl as terrible as night itself.

CHAPTER 17

The force within the black slates hammered at Keph like pounding waves driven before a storm. He gasped and staggered—but didn't let go. Strasus hadn't described the dark force and Keph knew his father would have! The old man thought of the book as some curiosity, some ancient artifact and nothing more.

"I spoke no lie when I said you had the potential to become one of Shar's priests," Variance had said. Was the power of the book something that reacted only to the potential of divine magic? Was it possible that even a wizard as powerful in the Art as Strasus Thingoleir had not felt the tide of darkness?

There were whispers within the darkness as well: slow, low, and powerful. He felt like he could almost make out the words within them—almost, but not quite. He strained and tried to catch what the whispers were saying. They swirled around

him, a whirlpool that threatened to pull him under, to swallow him whole...

Almost like Variance's attempt to alter his memories. He clenched his teeth and thrust back against the whispers just as he had thrust back against the dark priestess.

"Get out!" he hissed. "Get out! I'm not listening to you!"

The force surged. It probed. He flung it back with all the strength of his will.

It retreated. Keph stood still and stared down at the book. It seemed heavier in his hands. His breath came in short gulps once more.

Another questing tendril of force caressed the edges of his mind. He slapped it away, then turned and stumbled out of Strasus's study. Carrying the book was like carrying a tub of water, a weight that shifted constantly and threatened to splash free at any time. Keph held it as close as he dared and made his way slowly back down the corridor of the north wing. He could feel the wards again. Instead of tugging at him, though, it was almost as if they brushed against him then shrank back like hair singed by a candle flame. Whispers swirled.

"No," he growled.

"Master Keph!"

Halfway up the grand staircase, the underbutler he'd encountered before stood and stared at him. There were other servants too, all in various stages of preparing for bed. Down in the entrance hall, the head butler, dressed in a night robe, was just emerging from the passage that led back to the servants' quarters. Some of the men were armed with knives and short swords. All of the servants were staring at him. Keph froze.

The fight with the copper falcon... how far had the sounds carried in the silent mansion?

"Stay back," Keph snarled.

"Sir," the head butler called, "what are you doing?" "I'm fixing a mistake," Keph answered. He took a slow step forward. "Get out of my way."

The underbutler already on the stairs started to retreat back down them, but the head butler moved forward and began to climb.

"That book is from your father's study. I can't let you-"

"I said get out of my way!" roared Keph.

Maybe some of the dark force of the slates had wormed its way deeper into him than he had thought. The head butler turned pale and stopped. The underbutler actually choked, pressing himself so far back against the banister that for a moment Keph thought he might fall over. All the other servants cleared away from the bottom of the stairs.

Keph tightened his grip on the book of slates and marched down the staircase. When he reached the bottom and turned to the doors, the servants parted to make an aisle for him. The entrance hall was deathly quiet.

When he opened the doors, though, sound rushed in. Yhaunn's night was alive with distant cries and screams. Many of them came from the direction of the Stiltways. Keph tottered forward. Strasus's wards had been designed to keep people out of Fourstaves House, not in. The green lines of magic that flared briefly as he walked out shimmered and shriveled just as the wards in the north wing had. The stone dogs actually cowered away from him.

Whispers crashed inside his head once more, and Keph let them crash, holding them at bay rather than thrusting them back. Staggering like a drunk man wading in the surf, he jogged into the night toward Moonshadow Hall.

<§> ---------

Feena could hear howls. She could hear screams. She could hear Julith crying for her and the splashing as the young priestess reached into the water of the sacred pool—and a shout of surprise as she leaped back.

She heard all of it a fraction of a heartbeat before .dazzling moonlight burned away the haze that had

stolen her vision. Feena gasped—and in gasping, drew the moonlight into herself. Selune was inside her, burning in her flesh and blood, knitting her together, and making her whole. The touch of the goddess exploded through her. Feena threw back her head and howled— not out of pain, but out of sheer joy.

The wolf within her howled right along with the woman. And somewhere in the silver brilliance of Selune's light, Feena could hear a whole chorus of wolves and beasts raising their voices along with her.