Lost Moon Page 7

  “No.” Patrice put on a bit of acting herself. “I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing here but if you take me home, I’ll forget everything. I won’t call the police. I promise. Just let me go home.” She thought that sounded genuine, especially since she had no acting experience, other than the dancing mushroom she had portrayed in her second grade play. Which I absolutely hated!

  “What is a police?” Golden locks fell past the third woman’s waist and touched the ground where she sat.

  Patrice stared. How can anyone stand hair that long? Must be a bitch to wash. Sheesh, get a grip, Patrice. It’s a wig, you idiot. The blonde woman studied her as though she actually waited for an explanation. Despite the difference in accents, these actors remained in character and were convincing. Maybe they are Renaissance Faire people, used to keeping up the act for long periods. I really should humor them. The sooner we play out this game, the sooner I can find Jackie and kick her ass. And the faster I can get home. I wonder if she bought me a cake, too.

  “Um...” Patrice gave the blonde a questioning look.

  One thin finger pointed to a laced up bodice. “Larisa of Donigere.” The bruises on the back of her hands and the dirt under her fingernails looked real.

  Great makeup job. “What, no last name?” Patrice fought a smile at Larisa’s confused look. Damn, this one’s good. “Okay, Larisa of Don—whatever. Police, as in cops, peace officers, the fuzz.” She tried to think of other names she had heard on TV but couldn’t right now. “I won’t tell them anything. I promise.”

  The blonde woman focused on the old woman, who called herself Sorinieve. “What is she going on about?”

  “The sister world she comes from is very different than this one. At least, now it is. Long ago, when the two worlds were connected, we came and went from there as often as the aurora appears.” The old woman sounded as though she taught a class. A theatre professor or director maybe? “We sent our children there to prosper. And they did. They begot many children of their own and paid homage to this world and their ancestors. But after a while, they started to change, started to pull away from our beliefs.

  “Magic dwindled until it became almost nonexistent on the sister world and, as the years passed, they grew afraid of us. They made their own laws, followed new beliefs, and denied where they came from until we were long forgotten, nothing more than carvings on a few ancient walls and temples.” She got a distant look on her withered face. “Once we were no longer safe there, all the archways were sealed, except the one we used to bring Third Noble through. Our ancestors used that last archway to observe her world and the strange customs they developed over the millennia. As the centuries passed, they lost those abilities and only the Keeper of the Faytools could get visions through archway.” She motioned a shaky hand toward Patrice. “Now that Patrice Aurora Gray is here, Earth’s magic is depleted and the last archway to our sister world has sealed itself. Earth cannot be accessed again.”

  The story had sucked Patrice in and her heart thudded against her ribs. Damn, she’s good! Or else I must be really tired. It was getting late. The store opened at nine in the morning and she needed her sleep. “Okay.” All faces turned to her. “This has been a blast but it’s gone far enough.” She turned toward the darkness, thinking there had to be a camera or a hidden room. “I’m onto you! You can come out now!” No answer. She took a couple of steps toward the back wall of the cave and fought a chuckle. Jackie would not miss this little show she had concocted. “I swear, Jackie, when I find you, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me?”

  The woman in the thick pants shot to her feet, followed by the golden-eyed man, and Patrice realized she might have made a serious miscalculation that the playdate had ended. The woman came straight to her, hand at her throat, and backed her into the wall, which felt very much like solid rock. And it hurt.

  The woman’s manner and voice grew dangerous. “You will kill no one.”

  The golden-eyed man stood behind her. “Noble, do not harm her. She is new, confused.”

  Patrice started to laugh but the hand tightened and she had trouble breathing. And it was very unpleasant whenever she did manage to suck in a breath. This woman needed to brush her teeth or chew on a mint or something. Didn’t actors at least try to keep their breath fresh? Or was it all part of the fiction to eat foul stuff before this performance? Minty breath would have given them away for sure.

  She tried to pry the hand from her throat but that earned her another squeeze. Noble—at least she had learned the unpleasant woman’s character name—moved against her, pressing Patrice’s body painfully against the cave wall so hard she couldn’t move.

  A definite threat lighted the steely blue eyes that gazed back, and for a brief moment, she feared this woman wasn’t acting. Method actor? The nervousness Patrice had pushed away returned in force. Something in the woman’s eyes frightened her. Maybe she’s not acting. Maybe she’s a nutjob and I’ve really been kidnapped. “It’s just an expression,” she said with strained voice as she began to tremble. “I wouldn’t really kill anyone.”

  Noble held her for a few seconds longer then released her in one quick motion, putting several feet of distance between them. “See that it stays that way.”

  Patrice coughed as she massaged her throat and realized her bladder was about to burst. Tears fled down her cheeks as she tried to steady herself and stop trembling. Jackie wouldn’t be so cruel to her. Who the hell are these people? Kidnappers? But what did they want from her? Had they sent a ransom note to her parents? Her mother and father were far from rich. Although, to a homeless person they would seem wealthy. Are these homeless people with mental problems?

  She gave the tall man a wary glance but he kept his distance. Maybe he planned to attack while she slept. No one could stay awake forever. If this wasn’t Jackie’s doing, as she now began to doubt, Patrice had to find a way out of this mess.

  Sorinieve came to her and held out a withered hand. “Please, dearie. Come sit by the fire.” Her hair was white and she wore it braided and wrapped around her head so many times Patrice wondered if it reached her feet.

  “I have to pee.”

  The old woman pointed to the front of the cave. “There is a bucket by the entrance. I do not suggest going outside. It would be most unpleasant.”

  No shit. Peeing in the snow might be a joke for boys who liked to spell their names, but when the air was so cold that liquid turned to ice almost immediately, there was no fun in it. Especially for someone with female parts. She made her way to the bucket but saw no curtain or anything for privacy. Perhaps she should just run instead. One glance at Noble and she thought against it.

  “I’ll wait,” she said.

  “You cannot deny nature’s call, dearie. I will shield you.” Sorinieve pointed to the bucket. “Go ahead.” She scooped up a cloak, placed her frail-looking body between Patrice and those at the fire, her back to the bucket, and held the cloak open like a shield.

  Wind howled outside and the cloak that covered the entrance flapped with the force, letting in a freezing gust. Patrice’s bladder screamed so she pulled up her coat, inched her sweat pants down and squatted on the bucket, shivering the entire time.

  If this is a birthday ruse, I hope you’re getting a good laugh, Jackie. Making me piss in a bucket. I’m so going to kick your ass when I get home. She glanced around for paper, leaves, something, but found nothing. Luckily, she located a crumpled tissue in one of her coat pockets. Afterward, she followed Sorinieve back to the fire and sat, careful to keep her distance from the others. Despite sweating, she kept her coat on.

  She still hoped against her instincts that these were actors. Just in case she was wrong, she would refuse anything to eat or drink. Maybe they were from some sort of cult. That frightened her almost as much as any other kidnapping scenario that bounced around inside her head.

  “I need to get home. I have to work in the morning. I’ll be missed if I don’t check in at work.” A partial trut
h. Jackie wouldn’t be in until after lunch, but Patrice’s regulars would miss her if she didn’t open. Would someone call the police if she didn’t show up?

  “Patrice?” Sorinieve’s voice grew gentle, as though talking to a small child. “Have you not been listening? This is not the world you were born to. You cannot go back. Your home is with us now, here, on Selenea.”

  That alien ruse again. Even if aliens existed, that’s too crappy a name for a real planet. She relaxed that aliens were not her worry but thoughts about a cult resurfaced. Some believed in aliens. Some had killed themselves over those beliefs. She decided to keep them talking until she could figure out some way out of this. “Okay, if that’s true then where’s your space ship and how do you know my language?” She had often wondered that very same thing when watching science fiction shows. She waited.

  The old woman offered an odd smile. “We have no ship. Magic is how we brought you here and magic is why we understand each other.”

  “There’s no such thing.”

  “Not on your world.”

  Uh-huh. “So, you’ve what, hypnotized me to think I’m someplace else?” Actually, that could be what had happened. Why didn’t I think of that before?

  She had seen old videos of hypnotists making people see and do things for the entertainment of others. She still didn’t know how she got here from her backyard. Hypnosis would explain, well, everything. She could still be in her yard or in her comfy chair with a book on her lap. Hell, she could still be at work with an audience watching her act like a stupid fool. People can’t be hypnotized if they don’t want to be, right? Did I go along with it? Jackie had a silver tongue when it came to getting what she wanted, and Patrice usually went along, however crazy she thought it sounded. Visiting a hypnotist sounded just like something crazy Jackie would talk her into doing.

  Sorinieve clicked her tongue. “I do not know what that means, but you are somewhere else. Your world is no longer accessible.”

  Noble shifted her weight, dark braid swinging behind her head. “Show her with the scepter.” She retrieved the tall staff embedded with colorful jewels. They looked real.

  Oh come on, Patrice. You wouldn’t know a real gem from a fake if it smacked you in the head. She rubbed at the sore area on her throat again as Noble’s hardened eyes bored into her. She might actually have a bruise. That bitch. Or if this was hypnosis, then she only thought she had a bruise. Damn. How am I supposed to know what’s real and what a hypnotist has told me to believe? But wouldn’t I come out of it if I realized I’m hypnotized?

  Sorinieve gave Noble a thoughtful gaze, but it was the blonde who spoke next. “Kepriah, stop trying to frighten her. She does not understand any of this. How can you be so cruel?”

  “You have not seen cruel, Larisa.”

  “And I do not want to.” Larisa scooted closer to Patrice. “Do not pay her any attention. She’s just angry because Sorinieve took her sword and knives away.”

  Patrice eyed Noble, or Kepriah, or whatever the hell her name was, and frowned. That woman made her very uneasy. There were several weapons stacked nearby. She had thought they were simply part of the set dressing. Props. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe I’m not hypnotized. As much as she didn’t want it to, her mind returned to the kidnapping scenario. Maybe she could get to one of the knives before Kepriah or the golden-eyed man got to her.

  Larisa gave her a sympathetic smile. “Do not worry, Kepriah is not as ornery as she seems. Sorinieve healed her snow-bitten toes so she could save me from drowning. I lost my village when the dam broke.” Her blue eyes grew distant and moist but she blinked hard and focused on Patrice again. “My parents, everyone, drowned.”

  “I’m sorry.” Patrice didn’t know what else to say. Whether an actress or a disturbed person, the woman sounded sincere.

  “I nearly drowned, too. Kepriah, Jakon, and Sorinieve saved me. Then they brought me here and healed me.”

  “I’m glad you’re healed.” However, her concern was for her own butt just now. Jakon, huh? That had to be the man’s name. I need to stay far away from him. “But I need to get home. They’ll miss me when I don’t show up at work, and my mother calls every night to chat before I go to bed.” That last part was a lie, but her mom called twice a month and asked her to dinner, mainly to find out if her daughter had a boyfriend, yet. Patrice hadn’t missed a day of work since she and Jackie opened The Book and Mug two years ago, even with the nasty cold she had caught last winter, so someone would come looking for her. “And I left my back door unlocked.” A thief could just walk in and steal everything. Burglaries were low in Seward, but these people didn’t need to know that. “I have to get home. Now!”

  Sorinieve eyed her. “That is not possible, Patrice.”

  “The hell it isn’t. I’m done playing. Take me home or I will call the police and have you arrested. I’m sick of your lies. Now let me go.”

  “You dare call me a liar?” The danger in Kepriah’s voice caused Patrice’s heart to jump. Those steely eyes bored into hers and in one smooth movement, Kepriah was on her feet, her braid swinging in angry arcs behind her head.

  I really have had enough. If they’re going to kill me, I’m not going down without a fight. Patrice got to her feet with much less grace and offered a hard glare of her own. “If the shoe fits, bitch.”

  “No one calls me a liar and gets away with it.”

  Liar pisses her off but being called a bitch doesn’t? “What are you, nine?” Patrice’s voice quivered at the thought of Kepriah’s strong hands around her throat again.

  The golden-eyed man abruptly stepped between the two. “Nobles. This is not proper behavior.”

  “Screw proper anything,” Patrice snapped as she put some distance between herself and the tall man. “If, and I say if what you’ve told me is true, then you have kidnapped me, physically threatened me, and now you’re keeping me here against my will. There’s a law against every one of those things. And I’m sure my lawyer can come up with a few more charges to add to those.” She had no lawyer, but would certainly get one if she ever got away from here. When. When I get away.

  She still had no idea where these people had taken her. Or why. With this weather and the aurora, they still had to be in Alaska. No one here had mentioned a ransom. Did that mean they hadn’t sent a letter to her parents demanding something? Or maybe they really were crazy cult people and this was how they got new recruits. Larisa did say she had been healed. Did Jakon beat her? Or maybe Kepriah? Then brainwash her into thinking they’d saved her? If they had harmed her while she was drugged and unconscious, Larisa might not have known any difference. She seemed like the trusting sort. Perhaps the gullible sort, too. Perfect for cult influence.

  “All right, Kepriah,” Sorinieve said in a low voice that held authority. “I will convince Patrice we are sincere.” Kepriah held out the staff with the colored jewels, and Sorinieve’s withered hand gripped it. The blue stone at the top caught Patrice’s attention again.

  Shit. I must’ve seen that stone and just thought it was a star. Maybe I was more out of it than I thought. Maybe they used a date rape drug. Women often reported not remembering anything.

  When both Sorinieve and Kepriah gripped the scepter, Sorinieve mumbled something. Patrice felt an invisible force press her against the wall and lift her off the ground, like hands moving in the wall behind her. She screamed.

  “Quiet!” Kepriah’s voice cracked like a whip. “This is magic. I did not believe Sorinieve’s story at first, either, but you cannot deny what your eyes show you. What your body feels.”

  Patrice trembled as she was lowered to the ground. Her legs gave out and she ended up on her knees. Larisa came to her but she pushed the woman back. “Keep away from me. All of you.” Freaks.

  She stumbled to the cave opening and shoved the cloak aside. This weather would kill her in a matter of hours, so she decided to stay put, for now. She stood there for a few seconds until she grew cold then turned and made her way bac
k to the fire. She sat with her back to the wall, keeping all four of her kidnappers in view.

  Maybe this was just a nightmare or hypnosis. Why couldn’t she come out of it? Maybe she had been in a car accident on the way home from The Book and Mug. She could be in the hospital, drugged, in a coma. No one knew what coma patients really went through, whether they dreamed or were aware of anything going on around them during that unconscious time.

  Sorinieve left the jeweled scepter with Kepriah, walked over and sat in front of Patrice, her stiff movements making her seem even older than she appeared. She must be at least ninety. Patrice started to move away but the old woman grabbed her hand and placed something against her palm. The strong grip betrayed the frail appearance. “Put this on, Third Noble. It belongs to you now.”

  Patrice stared at the silver ring with the blue gem. It looked very much like a woman’s graduation ring without the writing. A very old graduation ring. The stone was the same color as the one in the scepter. A cult ring, no doubt. “I don’t think so.” She stood and held the ring out for Sorinieve.

  The old woman shook her head. “It belongs to you. It is your destiny.”

  Right. “I’m not playing your games anymore.” She dropped the ring on the ground and crossed her arms like an insolent child. Did these people actually believe the lies they spouted? If they were delusional, they could be capable of anything. Better to find out now than experience a slow, tortuous death or brainwashing.

  “Very well.” Sorinieve stood with effort, pulled a necklace from over her head and gave it to the blonde woman, Larisa. “This talisman is for you, Second Noble. Please put it on.”

  Larisa took the necklace. The talisman looked like hammered silver, round, and had a blue gem in the center. The designs around the stone looked old, like ancient Celtic or Native markings. Inuit maybe? Patrice couldn’t tell from this distance and she wasn’t about to move closer.

  Larisa sighed. “It’s beautiful, Sorinieve.”