Lost Moon Page 13

  “You can do this, Third. You are strong. Clear your mind and concentrate on the task.”

  Why me? Jakon was the largest and strongest and he could use weapons. Patrice, you shouldn’t think that way. She should be eager to protect another person, even Jakon, but this cat scared her so much she had lost all sympathy for anyone but herself. I don’t want to die. Well, that’s new.

  The huge cat swished its tail, eyes moving between the four of them. Kepriah had somehow turned around to face the exit. Patrice hadn’t even noticed the woman’s movements. She felt her gaze, though, and Larisa’s now.

  “Third,” Jakon urged.

  She wondered if she would pass out from fear. “I can’t.”

  “You can. You must.”

  “I ordered you to, remember?” Kepriah’s voice was low. Patrice thought she caught a hint of sympathy but that must have been her imagination. Kepriah didn’t sympathize with anyone.

  I agreed to take orders from her. Why on Earth had she agreed to such a stupid thing? I belong in a bookstore where I can read about adventures, not be in the fucking middle of them. I don’t belong here. What the hell am I doing here? I want to go home. Now! None of them would get out of here if the giant cat attacked. At least, not without serious injuries.

  Patrice had a sudden thought and didn’t hesitate to voice it. “Why can’t Larisa use the talisman? Animals hate fire.” At least, she hoped the same rules applied on this world.

  “She cannot send fire as far as you can send air,” Kepriah said. “She is not close enough.”

  Kepriah was right. “Damn it.” Larisa had to be standing near an object to get the thing to blaze. She had no distance, yet. “Why don’t you use the scepter to take over its will? Tell it to leave.”

  “The scepter does not work that way on animals, Third.” Jakon that time. “You are the only one who can take care of this. Now concentrate and get rid of the beast before we all end up in shreds.”

  That highly disturbing image set Patrice’s hands to tremble. She had to do this. No one else could. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Could she use the ring with a hungry beast ready to devour her? And could she hit her target? She had a few choice words for these Moirai, if they indeed existed.

  She didn’t dare close her eyes. Instead, she focused on the ring and stared into the blue jewel as though it were a great ocean, willing herself to calm. Willing the ring to help her. After what could have been an hour or mere seconds, her heart slowed and her breathing became almost normal again. She made a fist and turned her hand so the ring pointed to the giant cat. It lowered its head and stared directly at her. Patrice froze, unable to concentrate on anything but fear again, her heart thumping in her ears and the cat’s low growl taking up what was left of her hearing. She was alone now, just she and this vicious animal, this alien creature. Her instinct was to run but she had no place to go. Her hand shook so much she had to hold her wrist with her other hand just to keep the ring steady.

  I can’t do this! Breathe. Yes, you can. You have to, Patrice Aurora Gray. This thing will kill you. The silent conversation in her head made her feel somewhat insane, but it worked to clear her mind and she aimed the ring. The beast let out an ear-piercing howl and she froze again. Another howl answered from the distance.

  “Now, Noble,” Jakon hissed. “She has called her mate. You must chase her away now.”

  Patrice had to concentrate on the blue stone again to steady her heartbeat but she managed. Somehow. With quivering gut, she envisioned her invisible whip. The ring vibrated her entire arm now and sweat trickled down her back but she held onto the thought. A magical word pushed from her lips and the unseen whip lashed out.

  She missed! Patrice sat horrified when she realized her mistake. No! She had hit the side of the cave entrance, where the cloak was secured back, and loosened dirt and rock. Her bladder felt loose, too. The cat crouched and bared its teeth then let out a screech that hurt Patrice’s ears. The others were urging her to try again, but they would all die now because she had missed her target. The beast looked as though it would spring any moment and waves of terror flooded her, along with the feeling of passing out.

  Kepriah’s harsh voice found her. “If you faint, Patrice, I will thrash you so badly you will beg for that screech cat to shred you.” Kepriah sounded sincere and Patrice wondered if she would make good on that threat. Probably.

  Screech cat or Kepriah? Kepriah or screech cat? Damn it all to hell!

  Trembling, Patrice managed to focus her mind again, aim her ring, and send out another air whip. This one caught the beast right in the jowl. The cat let out a high-pitched screech as it ran off. Silence filled the cave for several seconds and Patrice’s heart beat so hard it threatened to pop out of her chest.

  “You did it!” Larisa grabbed Patrice in her arms. They both stayed that way, trembling and half-sobbing for a couple of minutes, at least. “Thank the Moirai. You did it.”

  Patrice pulled back, sweet relief filling her, and she giggled. “Damn right.” She blew on the ring and shoved her fist to her waist as though to holster it, partly to hide the shaking, and partly to convince herself that she still had a hand and wasn’t lying around in pieces.

  Kepriah gave her an unusual look accompanied by a crooked smile. “I think there’s hope for you, yet.”

  Patrice looked up at Jakon, who smiled down at her now. “Think it’ll be back?”

  “Not likely. Screech cats are deadly hunters but they do not like their prey to fight back. And you showed some nasty claws. She marked a tree outside to tell her mate and other clan cats to avoid this den.”

  “Good.” Patrice took in a long breath to slow her racing pulse. “Excuse me.” She got up on shaky legs and headed for the shitbucket. No one watched as she released her bladder, but she kept one eye on the cave entrance, just in case Jakon was wrong about the cat. When she made her way to the fire, Larisa crossed to the bucket.

  Jakon had his attention on Kepriah. “First Noble, if you can demonstrate as much progress with the scepter, we can leave this mountain.”

  Kepriah mumbled something that sounded like a curse and stormed over to her scepter, snatching it up like an angry rodeo rider with a fallen hat.

  Larisa returned and sat next to Patrice. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” At least I’m not dead. “But I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in all my life.” Not even as a kid when I saw a bear in the schoolyard.

  “I thought you would wet yourself there for a minute.” Kepriah laughed.

  Patrice thought about getting angry but she chuckled instead. “I almost did.” That got Larisa and Jakon laughing, and she began to feel more like a human again instead of prey. A hungry human. The meat had cooked a bit too long on one side, which seemed to upset Larisa. “It’s still edible,” Patrice said, when she felt the woman’s frustration. “Besides, it’s not your fault. Blame that stupid cat.”

  “I will.” Anger caressed Patrice’s senses, the first she had felt from Larisa. Second Noble had called Kepriah down numerous times for her behavior and colorful language, but with no more than mild irritation in her voice.

  Patrice smirked. “I’m in charge of breakfast, remember? So, you’d better get used to this kind of meal.”

  Larisa chuckled, her anger dissipating. Jakon seemed pleased and he studied Patrice like a proud parent. She moved toward the food to avoid his gaze.

  Once they sat, the others watched her with keen interest as she ate the overcooked jabber meat, which reminded her a lot of her dad’s cookouts. He never could use a grill without burning the meat. She pushed away the sudden feelings of loss that threatened to erupt and opted to lighten the situation, hoping to make herself feel better.

  “What I wouldn’t give for a huge salad piled high with fresh veggies, croutons, and a creamy dressing.” Her mouth filled with saliva at the thought of such a meal. She didn’t choose salad from a menu unless there was a lot of crap to pile on top, but after several days of n
othing but jabber meat, she craved fresh produce.

  Her three companions gave her curious looks, then Kepriah said, “We will have access to a garden once we are off this bloody mountain.”

  “And some fries,” Patrice added. Okay, so I don’t only crave healthy stuff.

  Kepriah’s brow furrowed. “What in hell and Hollow are those?”

  “Cut and fried potatoes. With lots of salt. Very yummy.”

  Larisa and Kepriah exchanged glances. “Tubers,” they said in unison.

  Jakon stood by like a proud father as those golden eyes flicked between Patrice and the other two women.

  Patrice ignored him. “While we’re at it, I want a huge chocolate bar. The creamy imported stuff. And a tall glass of ice cold milk.”

  “I know milk,” Larisa said. “But what is chocolate?”

  This time Patrice had the confused look. “Please don’t tell me there’s no chocolate on this stupid world of yours?” The blonde woman stared at her with widened eyes. “It’s only the most delicious food ever.” Patrice shook her head and thought of the imported chocolate bars she sold at The Book and Mug. They were extremely popular with the lattes and cappuccinos. “Tell me you at least have coffee beans.” She may not enjoy cooking, but she could brew coffee as if her life depended on it. Larisa shrugged and Patrice said, “This is a horrible world.” Homesickness welled again, and it took all her will to push it away this time.

  Larisa seemed to catch her mood and placed a hand on her arm. “We probably have something comparable. If not, then maybe I can grow it. I do have a knack for growing things. Cicily—she provided my mom with many herbs over the years—never let me leave her place without a lesson in gardening and husbandry. She believed every healer should know how to grow her own medicinals. My mother—” Her voice caught, and this time Patrice placed a hand on her arm. The woman looked pleased with the motion and smiled. “My mother was a terrible gardener. A great healer, but a terrible gardener.”

  Patrice offered a tiny smile. “She and I would have gotten along great. I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned.” Her mind flashed to the numerous plants she had managed to annihilate over the years. This brought memories of her little house and she closed off her mind to those thoughts. When we’re off this mountain, I’ll find a way home.

  “Mother would have liked you, Patrice.” A sad smile came and went and Larisa turned to Kepriah. “My father would have liked you. He always wanted a son.”

  Kepriah cocked a brow and her eyes lit. “I am far better than any son.”

  Jakon threw his head back and howled with laughter, getting surprised chuckles from Patrice and Larisa. The merriment lasted mere seconds before Patrice felt something prick her all over, like a hundred tiny needles jabbing her skin. She stood, then stumbled, trying to rid herself of the unpleasant sensations. Jakon caught her and she didn’t pull away from him. In fact, she liked that someone cared enough to help her now.

  “Put her here,” Larisa ordered, and she spread a blanket down.

  The tension in the cave escalated, which made Patrice’s skin crawl. The two sensations caused her to groan and slap at her skin as Jakon carried her and placed her on the blanket.

  “What is wrong, Third?” He crouched nearby, golden eyes gazing at her with worry.

  Larisa tried to check Patrice over but she smacked the woman’s hands away. “I don’t know. Something’s jabbing me all over. Ah! I can’t stop it. Damn it!”

  Jakon stopped her right hand in mid slap. “The ring. Focus on the ring.”

  “I can’t.” Her voice sounded desperate even to her own ears.

  “What you are feeling must have something to do with your powers, Third. First Noble, see if you can get a vision with the scepter.”

  The sensation grew stronger and Patrice had trouble concentrating on anything but her prickling skin. Jakon still had hold of her ring hand and he forced her to look at it. As she gazed into the blue jewel, she thought she saw storm clouds forming. Someone pressed fingers against her neck, causing the pain to increase.

  Thankfully, Jakon and the ring distracted her. “What do you see, Third?”

  “Clouds. Dark ones.”

  “First?”

  “I’m not getting anything, Jakon. Wait! Jabber shit! There is a storm brewing. I cannot tell where exactly. Looks like one of the nearby valleys.”

  “As I suspected.” Golden eyes bored into Patrice’s. “You have become sensitive to the weather. Sorinieve believed the ring can control the weather but she was never able to use it. I wager that’s what you are feeling.”

  “Great. How do I control it?”

  “Try concentrating on the ring and see if that eases the sensations.” He stood.

  Patrice did as he instructed and some of the unpleasant pricking diminished, but her skin still crawled and she shivered. “I never wanted to be a meteorologist.” She sat up.

  “A what?” Kepriah moved next to Jakon and stared down at her.

  “A weather woman.” She shivered again and pushed Larisa’s probing fingers from her neck. “That doesn’t help.”

  “Sorry.” Worry emanated from the blonde woman.

  “Okay.” Patrice stood and backed away from her sisters. “Your emotions aren’t helping things, either. Don’t you ever calm down, Kepriah?” She stared down at Larisa, who still sat on the blanket. “Don’t you have something else to do besides worry about everyone and everything?”

  The two women moved back to their tasks at Jakon’s beckon, but Patrice’s little speech had the opposite effect and their emotions heightened. She groaned as she focused on her ring again and tried to keep from rubbing the skin right off her bones. Too long with this sensation and I just might lose it! If she hadn’t already. The possibility that she was strapped to a bed in an asylum never completely left her thoughts. At least I’m not crying and completely useless, like I was before. She didn’t want to fall into that dark hole of depression again, so she let the unpleasant sensations come.

  Chapter 11

  Frustration made up Kepriah’s days and nightmares often took her during sleep. If not for the marks on the cave wall, she would have lost count of the days. She never wanted to belong to any bloody Trine, yet here she was, and the sarding leader at that. She longed for a blade in her hand and wondered if that desire would ever go away, but she refused to mope about it. Though she had never seen herself as a leader and still did not feel comfortable in that role, having power over the others in her little group felt somewhat satisfying, like a promotion through the warrior ranks. Not that she would admit that anyone, especially Jakon. He saw the Trine as a great honor and blessing from the Moirai. Kepriah thought it a burden.

  Tension built each day trapped in this cave, her new sisters no small part of the problem. She eyed the Earth woman, who intrigued as much as infuriated her. She could not imagine having her entire world torn from her, but she would not have acted like a foolish child. That one needed to grow up and face her situation here. As per their agreement, Patrice did not talk about Earth, but the woman still grew melancholy, and Kepriah knew she still thought about going home.

  I only ordered her not to talk about it. Not a bloody thing I can do about her thoughts.

  Conversations between Patrice and Larisa revealed that Earth humans seemed to take longer to mature, and some did not begin families until they were in their thirtieth or fortieth decades. Some chose not to have children at all. Warriors, like Kepriah, had the luxury to postpone families, if they lived long enough. But those raised in villages like Donigere, where Larisa grew up, usually married and produced several children before their thirtieth birthdays. It was expected.

  Kepriah was curious about Patrice’s education, too. She never had the money to attend any of the Academies on Selenea, and no sponsor in his right mind would pay for a warrior to learn reading and writing. Luckily, she had learned those skills from her guardian, Nefith, the old warrior woman who took her in as an infant and died just a
fter Kepriah’s thirteenth birthday. Nefith had many talents that made Kepriah suspect she was not always a warrior. Whatever the woman had been, she went to her grave with a blade tucked into her belt. After Kepriah buried the only mother she had ever known, she joined a mercenary war camp and got additional training from soldiers who saw potential in her.

  She bristled at taking orders from civilians, but Jakon had earned her respect because he was warrior trained. One day she hoped to get battle tales of out of him. The large man was strong, too. No one had lifted Kepriah since she was a child, but Jakon had done it without much effort. All to keep me from throttling Patrice.

  The physically weak Earth woman often got that smug look on her face and spouted insults at Kepriah. Those air whips she created caused quite a sting. If Jakon had not been there that day, Kepriah would have taught her new sister a painful lesson in humility. Of course, Patrice’s air whips saved them from screech cats, so the woman might overcome her faults one day.

  Muscular arms rippled as Jakon sharpened his blades and Kepriah wondered what he would be like to sard. Probably aggressive, like most warriors, but since he had admitted to being Sorinieve’s lover, Kepriah could not be certain on that fact. Either way, she did not care. She had not enjoyed a good hay roll since Manry and could definitely use one. Manry’s face popped into her head and she fought feelings of loss. No one had ever meant more to her, not since Nefith.

  She rolled her shoulders to distract herself from grief as she let her gaze drift down Jakon’s firm body. If his member is as large as the rest of him, he will be a fine bedmate. She pondered that, her heart racing with sexual excitement, until Patrice gave her a sideways glance. The three had begun to sense each other’s emotions and none knew how to block the feelings.