Lost Moon Page 8

  “It belongs to you now.” The dearie expression she used earlier seemed to have disappeared.

  The thick chain looked out of place around Larisa’s thin neck, like a dog chain on a china doll. Once the amulet lay near Larisa’s breasts, the blue stone lit up.

  Patrice’s gaze fell to her left hand, which now reached toward the ring, pulling her entire body to the ground with it. Panic surged through her at the loss of control, her heart racing like a wolf in chase, and she tried to pull herself back, but some invisible force pulled her forward until her fingers closed on the ring. Once in her grasp, panic subsided and she had an undeniable urge to slip the silver ring onto her right middle finger. It fit perfectly. The blue stone began to glow and a vibration that started in her finger moved into her hand, traveled up her arm, and spread until it ran the length of her body. Her hair felt static, like someone held a balloon above her head.

  She got to her feet on shaky legs and leaned against the wall for support, her breath and heart rapid. “This is a trick.” But she was no longer convinced of that, not after all that had happened. Not after being lifted by invisible hands. And especially since she couldn’t explain her own desire to put the ring on after she picked the thing up.

  When she looked up, Larisa and Kepriah’s stones matched the brightness of her own. A blue beam of light streamed from Kepriah’s staff to Larisa’s necklace to Patrice’s ring and back to Kepriah, as though the light itself bound the three of them together. Patrice’s entire body vibrated, strongest at the point of the ring, until the light beam disappeared as suddenly as it had begun.

  Sorinieve stepped to them and offered a sad smile. “The Trine is complete.”

  “Nobles,” Jakon said, and they turned to him. “I am at your service.” He gave them a low bow just before Sorinieve clutched her chest and fell to the ground.

  Chapter 6

  Kepriah got to Sorinieve first and pressed fingers to the old woman’s throat. Though their time together had been brief, Kepriah had begun to trust the woman who had saved her life, and she studied the peaceful body before her. “Go with the wind.” She looked up at Jakon, his face impassive, but she saw the grief in his eyes. “No more pain. She has gone to the Hollow.” All too recent memories of Manry filled her mind but she pushed back her own sorrow. She would not allow the other women to see her cry. They were not warriors and they had not earned her respect.

  Larisa checked Sorinieve over then sat back on her heels. “Yes. She is gone.”

  “What?” Patrice’s pale face had gone even whiter than before.

  That one would be a problem, especially if she knew nothing about this world. Kepriah did not want to be anyone’s nursemaid. She gave the Earth woman a steady gaze. “Gone to the Hollow. Dead.”

  Patrice crossed to her then took a step back. “But she can’t be dead.” She mumbled something about a sick joke and tapped Sorinieve’s boot with her foot. She then squatted, pressed her fingers into the old woman’s neck, then put her ear to the still chest. Kepriah started to ask if she was satisfied, but the daft woman entwined her fingers with one hand atop the other. “If any of you have a phone, call 911 now.” She began to push on the old woman’s ribs in some sort of rhythm, her curls swinging back and forth with the movement.

  Kepriah glanced at the others until Larisa shrugged.

  “What are you doing, Noble?” Jakon looked as though he fought to keep his grief under control but the look was fleeting. Kepriah was certain he was a warrior, or had been at one time.

  “CPR.”

  Larisa moved close to Patrice. “What is that?”

  “I’m trying—to get—her heart—going,” Patrice said between pumps of the old woman’s chest. “Get her—to breathe.” She mumbled something Kepriah thought was probably an insult.

  “Sorinieve has finished her task, Third Noble.” Jakon placed a hand on Patrice’s arm but she shrugged it off and continued pressing on the old woman’s chest. “She has gone to the Hollow. No magic can change that.”

  “This isn’t—magic—son of a—bitch.” Her tone was harsh now and Kepriah wondered if she had fire in her after all. “Breath, damn it. Breathe!” They watched Patrice do this CPR thing for some time until she sat back on her heels, breathless. “I can’t—” She swiped at a tear. “One of you could help, you know.”

  Jakon squatted beside her. “It was her time, Noble. Sorinieve guarded magic for many centuries, kept the Faytools safe for you three. Her task is finished. Let her rest.”

  Patrice swallowed hard and peeled her eyes from the body to give him a look of disgust. Kepriah wondered whether she would start bawling. Instead, Patrice stood and straightened her coat. “I’m going home and call for help. If you don’t want to take me then I’ll find my own way.” She started for the cave entrance.

  Kepriah was certain she was bluffing, because no one, not even a jabber could survive the cold out there for very long. But the woman pushed the cloak aside and bolted out.

  “Bloody idiot.” Kepriah grabbed her own cloak and charged after Patrice. The snow was up to her knees but she had little trouble catching up to this one. She snagged Patrice’s arm. “Get back inside!”

  “I’m going home!”

  “You are home, you idiot!”

  “Let go of me!” Patrice tried to pull away, but Kepriah was ready for her and yanked her off balance enough to get her over her shoulders. “Put me down, you crazy bitch!”

  Kepriah ignored the cries and the punches to her hip until she got the woman back into the cave. Then she twisted and dropped Patrice to the ground. “Do that again and I will hobble you like a bloody jabber.” She stamped the snow from her boots.

  “You’re nuts,” came Patrice’s curt reply. But she moved toward the fire instead of attempting to go outside again. She sat, nursed her left wrist, and stared at Sorinieve’s body as though it might rise up and attack her.

  Larisa came to Kepriah and pressed hands to her slender hips. “You did not have to do that. There’s no place she can go up here.” Before Kepriah could say anything, Larisa turned on her heels and went to Patrice. “You all right?”

  “Fine. Just keep away from me.”

  “Let me see your wrist.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I just want to make sure. My mother is the—was the Herb Mistress of Donigere. I have been using herbs and remedies since I could walk.”

  Kepriah discarded her cloak and sat to watch the two. Jakon, she noticed, seemed even more interested in the exchange. Patrice allowed Larisa to inspect her wrist and hissed when the Herb Mistress of Donigere’s daughter moved it back and forth.

  “Can you wiggle your fingers? Can you make a fist?” Larisa’s face showed relief as Patrice’s fingers moved and clenched into a fist. She pressed on the wrist bone until Patrice protested again. “It does not feel broken but it should be wrapped. Jakon, do you have anything?”

  “Yes, Second Noble.” Despite his recent loss, he appeared eager to help and produced a rag from his pack, which he cut into several long strips using a dagger.

  Kepriah felt the loss of her blades as she watched him and fought the urge to glance at her discarded sword and knives, but she would not allow her new sisters see her longing, or her sorrow.

  Larisa wrapped Patrice’s injury and tied off the ends. “There, you are finished. But be careful with that wrist.”

  As Kepriah watched the two, she thought of something. We are going to need more supplies before long.

  They only had three packs for four people. Sorinieve had brought many valuable items in on the jabbers, as though she planned to remain here quite a while, but they would need more eventually.

  Kepriah glanced at the old woman’s body. The warmth of this cave would have her rotting before long. “We have to bury her, Jakon.” They would have to do it with rocks since the ground was too hard to dig, and they could not bury her in snow where predators would find her.

  The man shook his head. “Not necessa
ry. Second Noble can take care of her.”

  “What?” Larisa’s blonde head came up, and blue eyes that resembled her own regarded the man.

  “Your talisman, Second. It holds the power of fire.”

  Jakon stripped Sorinieve’s body, since they might need her clothes. Patrice protested but he assured her Sorinieve would do the same in his place. He then lifted the old woman as though she weighed nothing and cradled her in his arms like a lover. “Come with me, Nobles.”

  The three women said nothing as he carried her outside. Instead, they put on outer clothing and followed him, even Patrice. Kepriah kept a keen eye on that one, just in case the daft woman thought of running again.

  Jakon knelt and made signs of peace and protection over the body. He brushed at a tear as he stood and motioned Larisa close, cloak flapping behind him in the frigid wind. “Hold the talisman in your hand and aim the stone at Sorinieve’s body.”

  Larisa aimed the talisman and Kepriah took a step closer to see what would happen. Patrice seemed curious but kept her distance.

  “Second,” Jakon said. “Your talisman should work for you like Kepriah’s scepter does for her. Clear your head and imagine a fire burning in your mind’s eye. Envision it engulfing Sorinieve’s body. You must not let other thoughts get in your way.”

  Larisa closed her eyes for a long moment and when she opened them, she stared at Sorinieve’s body and aimed her talisman. Nothing happened.

  Jakon touched her shoulder. “You must clear your mind.”

  “I did.”

  “Try again.”

  Larisa repeated her actions several times without results, and frustration filled her voice whenever she responded to Jakon’s suggestions now.

  “Keep your anger at bay, Noble. Remain calm. You can do this. You were born to it.”

  Larisa closed her eyes again. Cold seeped into Kepriah’s boots and she forced herself not to shiver. Despite the odd coat Patrice wore, the woman had her arms wrapped around her body and shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her lips had turned a pale shade of blue.

  Larisa shook her head. “I cannot do it. I’m sorry.”

  “This is hopeless, Jakon,” Kepriah said. “Let’s just bury her under rocks before we all freeze.”

  Jakon placed one of his large hands over the Donigere woman’s, covering the talisman, and raised his voice above the wind. “The talisman has waited millennia for you, Second, and it will not fail you. Let it be your guide. Clear your mind. Focus on a flame and let it grow into a blazing fire, then send it to her body. The talisman will guide you.” He pulled his hand back.

  Larisa’s eyes moved back and forth between Sorinieve’s body and Jakon several times before she nodded, her quivering lips a dangerous shade of blue. She aimed the talisman again and closed her eyes. Kepriah shivered when a particularly spirited gust blew her cloak open but she said nothing. Larisa started, as if someone had pinched her, and the talisman fell against her breasts. She rubbed at her fingers.

  “Noble?”

  “I felt something poke at my fingers. It did not hurt but it did startle me.”

  “That is your gift. Try again, and this time keep the talisman in your grip. It will not harm you.”

  Larisa studied him for a short moment, stomped her feet a few times, and took in a deep breath. Again, she aimed the talisman as Sorinieve’s body and closed her eyes. Wind lifted her hair but it seemed to come from a different direction.

  Patrice visibly jumped when a flame suddenly leapt from the talisman. Fire engulfed Sorinieve in seconds, leaving no trace of a body, except for an indention in the snow, which was now turning to ice where the body had been.

  “Shit!” Patrice stomped her feet and shook her hands. “Oh, shit!” She hurried into the cave.

  Jakon went after her, with the others following. “Third Noble!”

  By the time they were all inside, Patrice was huddled against the wall, arms wrapped around her knees, weeping. Jakon had a hand on her shoulder and spoke in a low voice.

  After a moment or two, Patrice jerked from him and stood. “How could you bring me here? Who the hell are you? What kind of world is this?” Her eyes reminded Kepriah of trapped animal. The woman reached up and grabbed Jakon by the collar. Kepriah moved closer but he waved her off. “You take me home right now! Take me home, damn it!”

  “I cannot take you back there.” Jakon’s voice grew calm, as though speaking to a small child. “No one can. The sister world is no longer within our grasp.”

  “You’re a fucking liar!” Patrice reached for one of Kepriah’s discarded knives but her arm froze in mid-movement. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she fell to the ground in a sobbing heap.

  As Larisa moved to comfort her, Kepriah realized something important. None of them, the Trine, could lift a bladed weapon. It was not just Kepriah’s burden. She was First Noble, these two her sisters. These three her army. The Moirai only knew why. I’m no leader. Sure, she had battle experience and was a good soldier. No, she was an exceptional soldier. A good soldier would be dead by now. But there was a difference between standing with fellow warriors, waiting for the order to advance or retreat, and giving the orders for men and women to die.

  She stepped to Patrice, who had stopped crying and pulled away from Larisa. Kepriah’s feelings of responsibility for these weaker women had steadily grown after Patrice put on the ring. Is this what Sorinieve meant about me having new sisters? She would not describe her feelings for them as sisterly just yet, but she definitely felt protective. “I will not let anyone harm you, Patrice. We are together now, the four of us, and we take care of our own.”

  Patrice laughed, and it sounded very much like a woman on the edge of madness.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning when Patrice awoke, her body ached in every conceivable spot and her sore wrist reminded her of yesterday’s injury. She hadn’t slept on the ground since she was nine and her parents took her on a camping trip. Her coat didn’t provide much cushion on the hard dirt and she rolled her shoulders to try and alleviate soreness. The fake fire burned just as it had the night before. This still amazed her, since there was no energy source she could detect. No gas, electricity, or gel bottles to fuel it. The fire just existed, like…magic. That thought rattled around in her head for a moment but her mind still had trouble believing it.

  The doorway cloak had been secured with rocks and sticks. The sun shone bright on the snowy ground and the light would have made the cave cheerful if not for Patrice’s predicament. She felt spent emotionally and physically after crying herself to sleep last night, and from what she could see outside, prospects of getting home looked no better this morning than the previous day. She also noticed she was the last one awake. Jakon and Kepriah sat near the fire, cutting meat of some sort and dropping it into a pot, while Larisa stitched an article of clothing.

  Soon, Jackie would show up for work to find the store closed and Patrice missing. If she hasn’t already. Maybe she was even at Patrice’s house right now with police. And my parents, what will they think? That she had been kidnapped, raped, murdered? Violent crime was low in Alaska compared to most places, but it existed.

  Patrice wasn’t ready to accept this world, this other reality, or whatever the hell it was. She had hoped to wake in her own bed this morning, all this a distant nightmare. Her wrist ached, where that bitch Kepriah had dumped her onto the ground yesterday, but she ignored the pain as she sat and removed the wrap. Three sets of eyes turned to her, two blue and very much like her own, and one a freakish golden color.

  “Good morning, Third Noble.” Jakon smiled. He had been nice to her. So far anyway.

  “Morning.” Though she wouldn’t say there was anything good about it. “And my name’s Patrice.”

  He looked pleased that she had spoken, but when he stood, any thoughts about his niceness vanished and her heart raced. No way would she ever get past him. The other two, maybe, but she even had her doubts about Kepriah. That woman was
stronger than she looked. When the tall man moved toward her, Patrice scrambled to her feet and backed against the cave wall.

  Jakon stopped a few feet from her. “I would never harm you, Noble.”

  “My name is Patrice.”

  “You are Third Noble. I must not call you anything else unless there is a danger in doing so.” He exchanged a guarded look with Kepriah.

  Patrice decided not to push the issue. “Fine. Whatever. Look, last night was something of a shock, to say the least. So, can we just get on with it? Whatever it is you want, just tell me. I’ll do it as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. Then I want to go home. I should be at my store now. Everyone’ll be wondering where I am.”

  A look of sympathy washed over those eerie golden eyes. “I am sorry, Noble. You still do not understand.”

  “I understand you’ve kidnapped me and are keeping me here against my will. That’s against the law.” She glanced at Larisa, who had stopped sewing to study her, and decided not to think about how that one had obliterated an old woman’s body. As much as she tried, Patrice could not make herself believe that was fake, and she wanted very much to be in her own uneventful and predictable life right now.

  “Once you get used to the ring, your feelings should change.”

  She glanced from Jakon to her right hand, surprised she hadn’t remembered the stupid ring. She tried to remove it, just as she had numerous times last night, but it wouldn’t budge. “What if I break it?”

  Jakon’s eyes narrowed. “You would do that?”

  Why didn’t I think of that last night? “Damn right.” If I break it, they have to let me go. Right? Since I’m no good to them without this so-called magical ring.

  “That saddens me, Noble.”

  Good. Serves you right, you oversized prick. Kidnapping me like this.

  She scavenged two rocks, one large and flat and one small, keeping the three kidnappers in her sightline all the while. She placed her right hand on the large rock and took up the smaller stone in her left. No one made a move to stop her. Her left hand wasn’t dominate and she hoped she wouldn’t smash her finger in the process. But one glance at her captors and Patrice suddenly didn’t care if she damaged all her fingers, as long as she got rid of the ring. And them.