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  The woman slowly removed the scarf and hood from an aged face. “My name is Sorinieve. I am Keeper of the Faytools.” A gloved hand motioned to the jeweled staff. “You are its rightful owner, Kepriah. Please, we do not have much time. You need to save another. Take the scepter.”

  Kepriah studied the staff again. Those jewels would fetch a good price, especially the large blue one that adorned the very top. No one would have left such a prize to her. She had no family. This was a trick to get her to leave the mountains. “I do not need to do anything. I can cut your throat right here and be done with it before your man-servant can take two steps.” Something about him disturbed her and she wondered what hid beneath his hood. She started to order him to remove it but the old woman sighed, bringing her attention back.

  “I can heal your feet, Kepriah. Though my magic is unpredictable at times, it is still strong enough for that. And you might want me to heal you before you kill us, or else you will die here.”

  Kepriah glanced at her sword, which still lay on the ground, untouched, and something sparked in her brain. “You used magic on me.” That is why I ignored my sword. “Perhaps I should give you to the royals.” She was not a killer of old women, unless she had no other choice. Something in the man’s bearing reminded Kepriah of a warrior, and she doubted he would stand still while she sliced the old bitch’s throat. “Sit,” she ordered him. “Right where you are.”

  “Yes, Noble.” He did not hesitate to move to the ground.

  “I know about the bounty,” Sorinieve uttered. “I saw it in a vision. I also know you did not kill that family. I can teach you how to keep the bounty hunters away. Please, you must trust me. There is a young woman who will die if you do not save her. Right now, she clings to life but she cannot hold on much longer.”

  Something in Sorinieve’s voice struck Kepriah. She had seen a blonde woman in the exact same predicament in her dreams last night. But she would not let these two know that. “What are you talking about? What woman?”

  “You know her, Kepriah of Landerbury. You have seen her in your sleep.”

  Anger and fear replaced curiosity and she pulled Sorinieve closer. “How do you know my dreams, old woman?” Even on the ground, the man had the advantage, so she put her knife to Sorinieve’s throat again. “Did you spell me?”

  “I spelled nothing. I know your dreams because I am a seer. Of sorts.”

  “Sorinieve tells the truth.” The man’s voice was thick and deep, like a midsummer night.

  Kepriah narrowed eyes on him. “Show me your face.”

  “Yes, Noble.” A gloved hand pulled back his cloak hood and a black braid streaked with white fell over one shoulder. He unwrapped the scarf around his dark face and removed his gloves. An angular jaw and wide nose set against a few facial lines gave him a hard look of a man who had seen many battles. Golden eyes set in large sockets caught Kepriah’s full attention.

  A desert dweller. She had heard about them in stories, but they were said to have died out decades ago. She had seen this man in her dreams, too. And she knew something about the old woman, something she could use to her advantage now. She had learned to trust her dreams long ago, though she never told anyone about them.

  “The staff. Give it to me.” The old woman had said Kepriah was the rightful owner. If anyone questions why I have it, she is the liar, not me. Jakon started to move but she held the knife out. “Slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them. And do not try anything.”

  “Yes, Noble.”

  She put her mouth close the aged ear. “You better not signal to him.”

  The old woman shook her head. “Of course.”

  The man took slow scoots across the ground, keeping his arms extended and dark hands open. He reached for the long, jeweled staff.

  Kepriah gave a slight shake of her head. “Do not pick it up. Roll it to me.”

  He did as she ordered and the staff rolled smoothly to her left knee. She shoved Sorinieve away, knife extended toward Jakon, then grabbed the staff. It felt strong in her hands, though she could not say why, since it was just a bejeweled piece of wood. Before she could form another thought, the gems began to glow. She tried to release the staff but her hand involuntarily tightened and her entire body prickled like touching metal on a dry winter’s day. A sharp pain ripped through her other hand and she cried out as her knife flew to the ground. When she had her senses again, she glared at the intruders, ready to kill either or both, but they had not moved. Both were sitting on the ground, legs crossed and hands in their laps, watching her.

  She reached out for her knife only to have her arm held back by some unseen force. “What have you done to me, old woman?”

  Sorinieve shook her head. “I did nothing. You are First Noble. The scepter has accepted you. It is your weapon now. You will never be able to wield a sharp blade again.” Something in her voice sounded regretful about that.

  Kepriah could not trust anything from this woman, this user of magic. She tossed the scepter behind her and reached for her sword but froze as the invisible restraint held her fast.

  Frustrated and more than a little frightened by this magic, she crawled to the sitting woman and grabbed a frail arm. Even through the bulky sleeves, she could tell Sorinieve was too thin. “What is this magic you use on me? Remove it or I will crack your head with that bloody staff—scepter—whatever in hell and Hollow you call it.”

  Sorinieve’s face hardened and the eyes held incredible power, despite their shriveled sockets. Weathered lips moved in silence. For a moment, Kepriah thought the woman was removing the spell, but when she tried again, she still could not take up her blades. She reached behind, scooped up the scepter, then raised and swung it towards Sorinieve’s head. The swing met an invisible barrier and a violent jolt traveled through Kepriah’s hands and arms, jarring her teeth and almost knocking her over. She cried out as the jarring movement made its way down to her blackened toes.

  “It will not harm me, Kepriah. I was Keeper for centuries.”

  “You lie!” She took another swing with the same inadequate result and moaned with pain. “Will it work on him?” Kepriah took aim at Jakon. The old woman got to her feet with amazing speed and stepped between them. As Sorinieve stared down, she put a hand on the scepter. Kepriah tried to pull it from this frail woman but could not.

  “You will not harm Jakon.” A commanding voice concealed Sorinieve’s advanced age. “I am old and my time is short but I will die protecting him. You need him. Your lives are intertwined, whether you like it or not, you impetuous girl.” She mumbled something and several jewels on the scepter glowed.

  Despite wanting to attack the old woman again, Kepriah found that thought flitting away, like a butterfly. An undeniable urge to lie down came over her and she found herself flat on her back. Just like that. She stared at the woman, who now sat with labored breathing, the scepter resting across her knees.

  Jakon reached out and placed a hand on Sorinieve’s shoulder. “You must not use up all your strength. There is much still to be done.” Those golden eyes looked at her like a longtime friend and bedmate.

  “Yes, Jakon.” A wrinkled hand patted his arm. “You are right. But I needed to teach this one a lesson.” She turned back to Kepriah. “You know the village of Donigere?”

  “Yes.” Kepriah felt too stunned to do anything but answer as she struggled to a sitting position.

  “The village is being washed away as we speak. The young woman I told you of clings to life.”

  “Even if that’s true, what in two moons do you expect me to do about it?”

  Sorinieve stepped to her and leaned on the scepter, head bent down. “You will save her.”

  An oath pushed from Kepriah’s lips. “I’m a warrior, not some bloody savior.”

  Sorinieve did not respond. She simply removed her gloves to reveal swollen and twisted fingers. “Lie back and I will tend to your injuries.”

  “Not bloody likely.” The scepter touched Kepriah’s f
oot and she fell to her back from the pain. She sucked in a few sharp breaths to get air back into her lungs.

  The old woman knelt by her side. “Stop wasting time. Jakon, if she tries to get up, use the dust on her.”

  The man stepped close to Kepriah’s side, one hand at his cloak pocket. Kepriah recognized the look in those golden eyes. She had seen it in battle many times. Jakon was not as gentle as he had first seemed. And from the way he held himself, she knew he had a weapon beneath his cloak. She had no idea what this dust was but she was not about to give him reason to use it.

  Instead, she focused on Sorinieve. “You try anything, old woman, and this will be your last sunrise.”

  “It may well be anyway, Kepriah of Landerbury.” Sorinieve knelt at Kepriah’s feet. Old eyes focused on hers. “I will not lie to you. This will hurt.”

  Jakon offered Kepriah a leather strap to bite on. She took it and placed it between her teeth, keeping her gaze on his movements, should he decide to use the dust anyway.

  Sorinieve’s gnarled hands leveled the scepter above Kepriah as though it weighed nothing. “Grab onto it. Both hands.”

  Kepriah did as instructed and Sorinieve uttered several odd words. Every jewel imbedded in the wood lit up this time and warmth filled Kepriah’s feet. At first, it was soothing and she started to relax. Then her toes felt like someone shoved them in a fire. Her instinct was to pull away but she could not release the scepter. She could only arch her back and groan as hot pain shot through her. She cried out, the strap falling from her lips. Just when she thought she would lose consciousness, the pain receded, leaving her panting and covered in sweat.

  Finally, she released the scepter as though it were a hot poker and reached to snag the old woman by the throat. That’s when she saw that her toes were no longer black. Her ears and nose no longer hurt. The pain was completely gone now. And she could move her toes! She stared at the old woman in astonishment.

  “Well, looks like you finally believe me.” She took a camen fruit from Jakon and pushed it into Kepriah’s trembling hand. “Eat this. It will give you strength.”

  Kepriah did as told without argument this time and the fruit stimulated her blood even after the first bite. Camen fruit had never roused her like this. Even warrior tea could not expel weariness this quickly. Magic again. Has to be.

  Sorinieve stood, leaning on the scepter as a crutch. “Get up, Kepriah of Landerbury. Put on your warmest clothes. The jabbers are waiting and we have no time to waste.”

  “You have jabbers?” She stood and tossed the camen seed aside, her fatigue gone. Hope that they would leave her to her hiding place vanished.

  “Yes, we traveled all night to locate this cave.”

  “Then your jabbers are dead already.”

  Sorinieve smiled for the first time. Her teeth were dingy but only one was missing. Odd for someone of her advanced years. “The jabbers will last. Now, come. Jakon will carry your pack. You can ride with me. I seem to have trouble these days with the reins.” She lifted her gnarled hands up in the air and inspected them.

  “What if I refuse? You going to use that bloody dust on me?”

  Sorinieve gave her a wan smile as she allowed Jakon to help her with her gloves.

  “There is no dust, is there? Jabber shit on a hot day. I should have guessed.” Kepriah raised a brow at being duped, and by an old woman no less. “How do I know you are not bounty hunters? Or since you use magic, you could be one of those blasted royal puppets doing his master’s bidding.”

  “I would die before I let a royal touch me!” Sorinieve screamed. A cough racked her frail body.

  Kepriah imagined this old woman once had great fire in her, maybe even a warrior’s heart. She studied the woman, but that fire seemed to dissipate as quickly as it started.

  Jakon gripped Sorinieve’s stooped shoulders. “You must forget about that for now. You must stay focused.”

  “Yes, Jakon. I apologize for that outburst. My mind seems to think the past is present at times.”

  “Yes, I know.” Sadness filled those golden eyes and he turned to Kepriah. “You are First Noble and there are two other women you need in order to create the Trine. The three of you will hoist the lost moon. This will return full magic to Selenea and save it from destruction.” When Kepriah opened her mouth, he held up a palm. “Forgive my abruptness, Noble, but we need to hurry to save this woman.”

  Kepriah gave in. She was not sure exactly why but she believed these two now, perhaps because of something she had seen in her dreams. Her dreams did not always make sense, until whatever she had dreamed about was happening or about to happen. Even then, the fragments and images sometimes failed to coalesce into something she could understand. Or maybe she believed them because Sorinieve had healed her. Though why they continued to refer to her as a noble person eluded her. She was no noble woman. Soldier, warrior, slaver, yes. She could follow orders and still manage to stay alive, even with all the chaos that war brought, but Jakon’s words held an ominous scent that made her more than a little nervous.

  With long-entrenched instinct, she reached for her sword, only to have her hand stopped by the invisible force again. “I need a weapon.”

  Sorinieve lifted the scepter off the ground a bit. “I have the only weapon we need. And you will learn to use it.”

  ****

  It took all of Larisa’s strength to keep her head up as frigid water filled her mouth again and again, causing her to suck it in and cough it out in morose repetition. Her lungs burned. Her hands ached. It felt as though ice encased her entire body. Her arm had wedged between two tree branches and she was stuck, probably the only reason she had not drowned. With a hoarse voice, she cried out for her parents again, but she had not seen them since the water buried her village. All she could do was hold on and try to ignore the pain and her chattering teeth. She had never been so cold in all her life and tried to envision a fire, thinking it might fool her body into warmth.

  Debris slammed against her bruised hips and back, knocking the wind from her, and the image disappeared like a startled rabbit. At least the bleeding had stopped. She was not sure how many cuts she had accumulated, or where they were located, but the water around her no longer swirled red.

  Several bodies rushed past and she recognized them all. Her mother had treated each at one time or another, some Larisa had played with in the streets of Donigere. Their names filled her head and she said a silent blessing for each, hoping they could move quickly to their next lives. Many times, she wanted to look away, but she might be the last one to see them and did not want them to be alone. Silly perhaps, but she tried to lay eyes on each body as it moved past.

  She spat out water again with a mighty cough that wracked her chest and made her heat hurt. No one survived this, Larissa. No one but you. No, you cannot think that way. Another body passed close to her and this one tore at her heart more than the others. Roloph. She reached out and managed to catch his tunic. Numb fingers barely held on as she pulled him toward her. Like the others, the life had gone from his body. I’m sorry I could not marry you. She tried to hold onto him but the current was strong and her fingers stiff. His body drifted several yards from her and lodged against a rooftop as she sent him a silent blessing. Moments later, he disappeared beneath other debris.

  Tears ran down Larisa’s cheeks and she spat water out again. Her lungs burned so much. Where were her parents? She had not seen their bodies. Perhaps they also clung to something somewhere. She had to hold onto that thought. And she did, for a while.

  ****

  Kepriah followed Sorinieve and Jakon from the cave to the live jabbers just outside. She placed a hand on the larger of the two beasts as it kneeled, still amazed it was not dead from the cold, swung a leg over and mounted. Sorinieve needed Jakon’s help to climb up behind her. Once the old woman settled, Kepriah grabbed the reins, ordered the beast to its feet, and waited for Jakon to mount the other one.

  Sorinieve held out the scepter. �
�You must grip it, Kepriah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it is bonding with you and I will need your help to use its magic now. Please, we need to hurry.”

  Kepriah wrapped her hand around the scepter and waited as Sorinieve spoke a word she did not recognize then promptly forgot. The thing vibrated beneath her hand, startling her, and she almost released it. Her heart beat like a war drum as several colorful jewels glowed, then out of nowhere, a tiny archway appeared against the snowy ground, its edges shimmering as it grew in size. In seconds, it expanded large enough for a grown jabber to pass through. If she had not seen it for herself, she would have denied this type of magic possible.

  The area through the archway appeared much like where they stood right now, but Sorinieve assured her it was lower in the mountains. She stared in amazement before kicking her legs and urging her jabber to enter behind Jakon’s beast. Instantly, they were in the place she had seen through the archway. The stupid animals did not seem to notice anything unusual. Sorinieve uttered something and the archway melted until it disappeared into nothingness. Kepriah had never seen anything so tremendous and had a sick feeling about this magic, but she had given her word that she would help rescue this woman from Sorinieve’s vision. After that, she would find a way to break the spell that kept her from her blades and find a new place to hide until spring.

  ****

  Sorinieve created magical archways that allowed them to descend the mountain in about two hours, instead of the several days it would have normally taken, and Kepriah began to have warming thoughts about the scepter. If she could learn to use it, she could sneak up on an enemy without notice and kill every last one. What a warrior I could be! Perhaps the Moirai had delivered a miracle to her after all. Perhaps I should give this more thought.

  She eyed Sorinieve as thoughts whirled inside her head. “Why not just open an archway from the cavern to the place we are going?”

  The old woman chuckled. “Once you master the scepter, it may work that way for you. I do not know what your limits will be. But the scepter only allows me go so far with each archway.”