Lost Moon Page 15

  “Jakon?” a woman’s voice cried out. “Jakon! Is that you?” She scurried down one ladder onto another level. Then made her way down another ladder until she reached the ground. Jakon dropped his burdens and ran to her. The two embraced.

  Kepriah and Larisa picked up Jakon’s things and started toward the villagers with Patrice on their heels. The villagers, all of whom were tall with dark skin, like Jakon, took their packs and ushered them into the shade. Larisa could not help but smile at these people. They looked healthy, happy, and eager to assist. She found their clothes interesting, too, as they did not wear much. Form-fitting tunics reached just above knees, secured around waists with wide, braided belts. Many of the tunics had colorful beaded trim, some ornate with feathers, some with embroidered images, symbols that meant nothing to Larisa. Most wore sandals that laced around their ankles but a few had bare feet.

  An elderly woman almost as tall as Jakon came forward and greeted Larisa and her sisters with an outstretched hand. She called herself Honor. Her clothes had more beadwork than anyone else’s did. Sharp teeth stood out against her dark features and golden eyes studied the newcomers. Honor’s hair, braided and wrapped around her head several times so that it appeared she wore a hat, was completely white. A beautiful blue stone encased in silver dangled over the creases in her forehead and Larisa stared at it. It looked very much like the one in her talisman, except that Honor’s hung in a teardrop shape.

  Larisa’s attention moved to nearby voices. Several women relocated piles of brush to reveal stone ovens, while men uncovered fire pits and brought out dead animals dangling on ropes. She wondered if they lived like this every day. Or had they seen strangers coming and scrambled to hide their existence? Either way, their ingenuity intrigued her. And the sight of food made her mouth water in anticipation.

  Jakon and the woman he had embraced made their way over.

  “Welcome home.” Honor hugged him when he got close.

  “Thank you, Honor. You have met the Trine, I see.”

  “Indeed.” Golden eyes took in Larisa and her sisters again. “We will have a meeting tonight after we feast.”

  “As you wish, Honor.” Jakon watched the elderly woman retreat before turning back to Larisa and the others. “This is my mother Jesup,” he said, and he introduced the Trine in order of birth.

  Larisa took the woman’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Jesup.”

  “Likewise.” A single white streak snaked around Jesup’s head within her wrapped braid. She had the same golden eyes and sharp teeth as the rest of the villagers.

  Jakon could see in the dark quite well and Larisa wondered if all his people had that type of vision. Probably. The men had hairless torsos, extremities and faces, like Jakon. In all the time they had spent in the mountains, Jakon had not shaved. His hair hung down in a long braid, but most of the men here had nothing but stubble on their heads. Only six or seven wore long braids and she saw that they also carried weapons. The women wore their braids wrapped around their heads, some with white streaks like Jesup, others entirely black. Honor was the only one with completely white hair. Several women wore beaded ornaments dangling from their braids. They made a tender sound as they tinkled together.

  Jakon’s mother had but a single ornamental comb of some sort in hers. “You must be exhausted,” Jesup said, and she waived three young women to her. “See that our guests get baths and drinking water while the food is prepared.”

  “Yes, Jesup,” they said in unison.

  They steered Larisa and her sisters toward the lake and started to strip them down. Kepriah shoed her help away but the look of horror on her helper’s face made the warrior change her mind. Larisa chuckled.

  Kepriah frowned at her. “What is so damned funny?”

  “These people treat us as royals and you pout about it.”

  “I never pout, Larisa of Donigere.” Kepriah stamped the scepter into the ground to accent her words. Not one of the people here had tried to touch it, much less take it from her. In fact, they seemed in awe of the scepter and the dozens of jewels that adorned the sculpted wood.

  “Whatever you say, Kepriah of Landerbury.”

  Patrice laughed and ran into the water in just her skin. And her ring, of course. Larisa felt joy from her Earth sister, which lightened her own spirits. Once out of her clothes, she followed. The cool water was refreshing. They splashed around a minute or two, until Kepriah stood on the shore, arms crossed, and gazed down at them. Without a stitch of clothing, she looked quite comical in that pose. Except for the scar that snaked above her left breast, across her left shoulder and halfway down her arm. Larisa had not seen much of the scar until now. She had no idea it was so large.

  Patrice grew serious at the sight, and Larisa nudged her not to stare. Most women would be self-conscious about such a mutilation, but it did not seem to bother Kepriah in the least.

  “You’ll get sunburned on your delicate parts if you stand out there too long,” Patrice called.

  A slow, crooked grin formed on their eldest sister’s lips and she bolted into the lake. After a minute, she came up with a cry of pleasure. She deliberately splashed Larisa and Patrice and a water war ensued, until Larisa called for a truce.

  Three adolescent girls, who had been watching them with small grins, took the discarded clothing away. No one touched Kepriah’s scepter that now leaned against an angular tree. Another woman delivered soap and rags, which added to Larisa’s joy. She felt similar emotions from her sisters and could not keep the grin from her face. They scrubbed until their skin was clean and red before they climbed out of the water and into some type of grass towels, which were surprisingly soft. The desert women escorted them to a fire, where fresh clothing waited.

  Larisa would not have figured out how to wrap the long tunic and offered thanks when one of the women did it for her. Splendid beadwork along the neckline made her wonder just how long it took to do such a fine task. Someone asked if she had her woman’s blood and she smiled. “Not just now.”

  The woman gave her thin bloomers to slip on underneath her tunic. Another woman combed and braided her hair then wrapped it around her head, securing it with a thick, decorated thorn of some type. The woman tending to Kepriah left her braid hanging down her back. Patrice’s braid, which reached past her shoulders now, was tucked under and tied with a leather lace.

  The woman, who had helped Kepriah then led them up several ladders to the highest level of the dwellings, motioned them inside one of the many openings, and left. Inside seemed quite cozy with its beam and mud ceiling and soft, grass mats covering a dirt floor. Not at all like the cave they left behind. Bright beadwork tapestries hung on the walls, a low table sat beneath one, and three thick mats comprised a sleeping area. Their packs and other items sat near the thick mats. Kepriah leaned the scepter in one corner and sat on the floor around the low table.

  Larisa and Patrice joined her. Larisa was about to check on her Earth sister’s reddened arm, when another woman entered with fruit and water. She placed the items on the table and studied each Trine sister in ascending order of rank. Her eyes widened and she gave a respectful nod before leaving.

  “What was that about?” Kepriah said.

  Patrice shrugged and scratched her arm. “Who knows?”

  “Let me see that.” Larisa scooted close. “Where did you get poison amber leaf, Patrice? I told you to watch out for it.”

  “Is that what it is? It itches like crazy.”

  “Well do not scratch. You will irritate it.”

  “Easy for you to say. Am I contagious?”

  “No. Only the leaves can spread the rash. But you can make it worse if you scratch. I will work up a salve for you.” At Jakon’s insistence, Kepriah did not heal small things like rashes. She needed all her strength for magical exercises with the scepter. So that left Larisa with the duty.

  Before Larisa could say anything more, another woman carrying a bowl and some rags came inside and made a beeline for the
table. “Good day, Nobles. I am called Healer. I have been told you have need of me.” Without waiting for confirmation, she sat next to Patrice, inspected the rash, and proceeded to apply a poultice.

  Larisa studied the woman, who reminded her of her late mother. Sorrow welled up and she pushed it down. “May I ask what you are using, Healer?”

  “Blackroot and hareweed. You a healer, Second Noble?”

  “My mother was. I apprenticed with her.”

  Healer nodded as she wrapped Patrice’s arm and tied the ends of the rag. “Keep that dry and do not scratch. The itching should go away soon.”

  Patrice offered a polite smile. “Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome.” Another woman brought a bowl inside and Healer placed it near Larisa. It contained a liniment. “To soothe and protect your skin when you go out. Our sun will burn you. If you need anything else, Nobles, just send for me.” With that, she left.

  As they ate some sort of flatbread with refreshing fruit and fresh water, several women came and went, delivering various items. Their little abode ended up with a shitbucket, three blankets, three pairs of sandals and, curiously enough, a key-wound clock similar to the one Larisa’s parents used to keep on their mantle. Sorrow coursed within her again. To her surprise, Patrice put a comforting hand on her arm.

  She gave her younger sister a grateful smile and relaxed, pushing her sadness away. She had expected to be cool in just a tunic and no fire in the room, but she was quite comfortable here, even with her legs exposed. She hid a yawn behind her hand.

  There was no time for rest, though, as Honor came inside and sat with them. “I am pleased Sorinieve located you three, though I’m saddened by her death. She was a good woman.” Despite only knowing the old woman a short time, Sorinieve had made great sacrifices for them, and Larisa and her sisters nodded. “Jakon told me you are struggling with your new powers.”

  “Jakon has a big mouth,” Kepriah said.

  “Do not be rude,” Larisa told her. She shot a look when Patrice snickered.

  Honor did not seem put out in the least. In fact, she smiled at Kepriah. “Ah, the fire of youth. You will need that as First Noble. You will also need to learn how to channel it so you do not burn yourself.”

  “You planning to teach us, Honor?” Larisa said, hopefully. Jakon does his best but we can always use another teacher. The more the better, as Patrice would say.

  “I will teach as much I know, but Jakon has been with Sorinieve the longest. I have learned from books and various texts on the Trine, which are not that many, I’m afraid. But you are free to practice here.” Her dark face grew serious. “You are safe here.”

  “That’s good to know,” Kepriah said, and a hint of relief wafted from her.

  Patrice took in a breath, sending out weariness and concern. “Does anyone here know how to hoist this lost moon Jakon told us about?”

  Honor studied her a moment then shook her head. “I am afraid not. You will have to figure that out on your own.” She squinted at Patrice. “You come from our sister world.”

  “So they tell me.”

  Larisa felt a twinge of doubt caress her senses. How can she distrust her experiences of the past few weeks?

  “Earth,” Honor said. “A beautiful and intriguing world. Or so I have read.”

  “Yes.” A pang of sorrow emanated from Patrice, and Larisa placed a brief arm around her sister’s shoulders.

  “I am sorry, Patrice,” Honor said. Obviously, she did not feel obligated to use their titles, unlike her grandson. “I know you miss your world.”

  Patrice pressed her lips together for a moment before she spoke. “Jakon says there’s no way back.”

  “Jakon is correct. Once you arrived here, that path dissolved. It was prophesied.”

  “And we can’t open it again?” She shot a quick glance at Kepriah and back to Honor. “Or another one?”

  “I am afraid not, child. Bringing you here depleted Earth of what miniscule magic existed there. The archways need magic from both destinations in order to work. Magic here is weak when summoned by most but it still permeates everything. Our world existed long before yours and the magic here made Earth possible. But Jakon must have told you that history.”

  “Yes.”

  Larisa now felt Patrice’s sorrow like a blanket over her head, suffocating, so she said, “Once we do the hoisting, will that bring strong magic back to Selenea?” Jakon had assured them of this, but he had also said that his elders knew more about a lot of things.

  Honor nodded. “It will, yes.”

  A tiny spark of hope flowed from Patrice and she brightened. “Will Earth’s magic strengthen, too? Since the two worlds are connected?”

  “I’m afraid there is no magic there to strengthen. But do not worry, child. As long as Selenea exists, so will Earth.”

  “But there’s no way home.” Patrice’s finger swiped at her eye and she looked at the small clock on her wrist that no longer kept time.

  Larisa wondered when she had put it back on. Patrice had been very upset when it had stopped. A dead battery, she had explained. Larisa knew of batteries. They were made from tubers connected with wires, coins and such, like the ones she had seen in a traveling show, but they did not have much power. How Earth humans could make one small enough and strong enough for Patrice’s wrist clock, marveled her.

  Honor took in a long breath and let it out. “Patrice, I am very sorry about your world, but you are needed here on Selenea. This is your destiny. The Moirai set those stars in motion a very long time ago, before any of us were ever born.”

  “Yeah. So I’ve been told.” Her voice had a bitter ring to it now.

  Larisa truly hoped her new sister would come to accept this world as her home. At least her bouts of melancholy were shorter and did not keep her from participating in life now.

  Patrice’s gaze found her. “Stop that. Stop trying to figure me out, Larisa. I’m not a puzzle. I can sense every time you worry over Kepriah or me. Or even Jakon, for that matter.”

  Honor laughed and the blue jewel danced over her forehead as she focused on Larisa. “You are Second Noble all right. The Healer and the Destroyer.”

  Larisa did not like the sound of that last part. “What do you mean the Destroyer?”

  “Calm yourself, child. You are a healer by nature, but the talisman gives you the ability to exact death. To walk with Death himself. Did you not realize?”

  “No.” Her voice sounded distant to her own ears and she fingered her talisman. “I mean, it turned Sorinieve’s body into nothing, but she was already gone.”

  “How much do you three know about the Faytools?”

  Patrice spoke up again. “Including what we’ve learned on our way here? Pretty much nothing.”

  Larisa shook her head. “That’s not true and you know it. We have learned quite a few things.” She focused on Honor and tried to keep the thought of walking with Death and the numerous questions she had at bay for now. “Patrice can move small objects and she can create a wind whip for protection. Kepriah created the archways that brought us here. And we all get visions of one sort or another.” She studied the blue gem on her talisman. “I can make fire but I do not have much control, yet.”

  “Ah.” Honor sounded disappointed. “Then you must practice. Our home is your home, sisters.” She studied Kepriah. “You need rest. We can talk more tomorrow. My grandson will show you where to practice so you do not harm anyone.” She cocked her head and the blue stone over her forehead dangled at a crooked angle. “You do know that Jakon is my grandson?”

  “No,” Larisa and her sisters replied in unison.

  “Hmm. I will have to speak to him.” She sounded a bit put out. “He should have taught you more than this.”

  “It is not Jakon’s fault,” Kepriah said. “Some of us,” her eyes moved to Patrice, “were not exactly cooperative.”

  “Speak for yourself, Kepriah. You didn’t exactly make me feel welcome, you know.”r />
  Larisa drew in a breath. “Please do not do this. We are guests here. And Honor’s right. Jakon should have been harder on us. We need more practice.”

  No one argued with her, thankfully. She was not used to giving orders but her sisters acted like children sometimes, just as Jakon had pointed out. Those two were still on edge around each other most of the time. “Honor? What did you mean when you said I can walk with Death?” Okay, so I have to ask that question now. I need to know.

  “Your talisman has the power to enter the Hollow of the Dead. You must be very careful. The Guardian does not take kindly to intruders. He would just as soon push you up Soul River as help you.”

  “Hollow of the Dead?” Patrice said. “Is that some sort of—underworld?”

  “Exactly. The name is a bit much, I know.” Honor gave an apologetic smile. “But our world is full of tradition, and many ancient names and rituals are still used.”

  Larisa listened but her heart made a frantic beat in her ears at the thought of visiting the Hollow. “I hope I never have to go there.” Patrice seemed somewhat amused and she wanted to slap the woman.

  Honor patted her arm. “You may never need to go there but you have the ability. Just keep your wits and you will do fine.”

  It began to grow dark out so Honor sparked one of the lanterns then took her leave. Larisa and her sisters each took a pallet. She, for one, was grateful for its softness. Better than the blankets they had used at the cave.

  Patrice chuckled. “Larisa? You really believe that crap about the Hollow of the Dead?”

  “Of course. Everyone knows about the Hollow.” She watched Patrice crane her neck to Kepriah, who nodded.

  “Okay, maybe I wasn’t clear. You believe in an afterlife or underworld or whatever. Most people do. But even if one exists the way Honor meant it, you couldn’t possibly go there. Unless you’re dead. And the dead don’t come back to life. So, why would you believe such a thing is even possible?”

  “You really are a cynic,” Kepriah said before Larisa could get a word out. “Is everyone from Earth so doubtful?”