Lost Moon Page 9

  With three sets of eyes on her, she raised the stone and brought it down hard onto the blue jewel. Nothing happened. She smacked it again. Still nothing. She cursed and tried again. And again. After several more attempts, and a tender hand from missing the ring twice, she quit. The jewel didn’t even look scratched. Maybe it was a blue diamond. Patrice had never been into fine jewels and couldn’t tell real from synthetic if her life depended on it.

  She snorted to herself. Why would these people give me a precious jewel? You’re losing it, Patrice. Or maybe you’ve already lost it and this is all a figment of your sick imagination. You could be in a padded cell and these three your doctors. That thought almost made her laugh. Almost.

  With a grunt, she slammed the small rock into the cave wall, scattering shards of dirt, then sat back on her heels. When a hand landed on her shoulder, she jumped up and tripped over her own feet in an attempt to get away. She twisted to catch herself and ended up on her ass. Ow.

  Jakon stepped to her and held out a dark hand but she shook her head. “You need to trust me, Third.”

  “Like hell I do.” Her old phys-ed teacher would be proud of the crabwalk she now did, despite the burning in her wrist. The only one I trust here is me. Although, she secretly wondered whether she could even trust herself. Tears threatened and she fought them back.

  “The Faystones cannot be broken, Noble.”

  “Now you tell me.” She stood and nursed her bruised and scratched knuckles that were also beginning to bleed. Larisa started toward her but she stopped the blonde woman an up-raised hand. “I’m fine.”

  Larisa halted and studied her a moment. Those hands went straight to her slim hips and her fingers began tapping against the skirt fabric. “If you broke anything, it will need to be set.”

  “I’m fine.” Patrice inspected the blue jewel again but couldn’t make out even a scratch on the damn thing. And the ring still wouldn’t budge from her finger, even when she spit on it and tried to pull it off with her teeth. Maybe she could cut through the metal. With what? The only modern thing she’d seen around here was herself. And for some reason, she couldn’t pick up any of those knives stacked against the wall. God knows I’ve tried.

  Larisa kept a concerned gaze on her. “I can see blood, Patrice. You will get infected.”

  “They’re just scratches. Why do you care anyway? You didn’t stop them bringing me here.” Larisa gave her a wounded look and guilt began to gnaw at Patrice’s belly. Maybe the woman was a captive, too. Maybe Larisa went along with the others to keep herself alive. “Fine. Take a look if that’s what you want.”

  That seemed to lighten Larisa’s mood and she stepped close to inspect Patrice’s hand. She didn’t smell as strongly as the other two but she could use a bath. Hell, I could use a hot shower and I’ve only been here one night.

  “The scratches are shallow but I do not want your hand infected. I will make a salve to—”

  “I don’t want any salve.” Patrice pulled her hand away.

  “Third Noble.” She turned to Jakon, who studied her with an unnerving gaze. “Even if you had succeeded in breaking the Faystone, which is impossible, there is no way back to your world.”

  “Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t believe you.” Lying son of a bitch. She stepped toward the cave opening and saw Kepriah stiffen. If that bitch comes after me again, maybe I’ll remember some of those moves from self-defense class. Serve her right to get a bruise or two.

  It had been a long time since she had taken the class, but a few moves came to her and she imagined using them on Kepriah. Of course, I should have remembered them yesterday, outside. Instead, she had panicked and flailed like a frightened child. She glanced out at the spot where Larisa had destroyed Sorinieve’s body. Fresh snow covered any evidence now. How was she supposed to protect herself against that kind of weaponry? Did the woman have some sort of flamethrower hidden under her dress? She hadn’t seen one yesterday, just the necklace that still hung around Larisa’s throat.

  She couldn’t explain what had happened with the old woman’s body so she decided not to think about it anymore. The cold air stimulated her senses and she longed for a cup of coffee. Hell, I’d settle for tea or a soda right now. Anything with caffeine in it. Yearning for familiar surroundings tugged at her emotions and an ache formed behind her eyes.

  “Patrice,” Larisa said in a low voice as she moved closer. “Tell me about your world. Your Earth.” Kepriah looked like she was going to protest but Larisa stopped her with a hard gaze.

  This blonde woman seemed genuine, so Patrice indulged her. “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, where do you live? What are your parents like? Your friends?”

  Okay, I’ll play along. But only because she was probably kidnapped, too. She told Larisa about her home, her parents, her best friend, and the Book and Mug shop they owned. Part of her longed to go back but another part felt lighter just having someone listen. “I created a small library in my spare bedroom. Alaskan winters can be very cold and some days I just stay in that room and read.”

  A smile tugged at Larisa’s lips. “I enjoy books. My father traded for a couple during his travels. My favorite was the one about birds. The entire book was full of colorful drawings, many I had never seen before. And I created a book of herbs and medicinals during my studies with my mother. My drawings were crude compared to that bird book, but Mother said it did not matter as long as I recognized them.” Sadness played across her features before she offered a wan smile to Patrice.

  “You need to come to my shop one day. I’ll show you books that will absolutely thrill you.”

  “What about you, Kepriah?” Larisa said. “Do you enjoy books?”

  Kepriah cleared her throat but Patrice didn’t look at her. “We need to break fast. Patrice, you empty the shit-bucket, and then Larisa will put a salve on those fingers.”

  Patrice glanced at the bucket and suddenly had the need to pee. Instead, she ignored both Kepriah and her bladder. Larisa, I like. Kepriah, not so much.

  “First Noble speaks to you, Third.” Jakon said in an almost scolding tone, and she watched those golden eyes with uneasiness. “It is written that First Noble will lead the Trine. Lead her sisters.”

  That got Patrice’s hackles up. “What? You mean she’s in charge?”

  Jakon’s dark brows climbed. “Yes, that is exactly what I mean.”

  She could conjure niceness for Larisa, but Kepriah was intolerable, bossy, and downright rude. Her anger flared. “Well then, maybe we should make a crown and a nice cushy throne for her highness to sit her mighty ass upon.”

  Larisa chuckled and Kepriah glared at her. “What?” the blonde woman said. “That was funny, Kepriah.” Larisa crossed her arms and stared at the warrior woman with the corners of her lips turned up.

  Patrice motioned to the stinking bucket with a circle of her arm and an exaggerated bow. “Here’s your throne, your nobleness.” That sent Larisa into a fit of laughter and Patrice snickered. The levity made her feel better, even if it was at someone else’s expense. Someone who can probably kick my ass without much effort.

  “Nobles, please,” Jakon said in an exasperated tone. “I realize you are sisters now, but we do not have time for childishness. Each of you needs to learn about your powers and practice for the hoisting.”

  Patrice studied the man. “I’m not doing any damn hoisting.” Whatever the hell that is. “I told you, I’m going home. I have parents waiting and a bookstore to run.”

  Jakon shook his head. “Your sisters need you, Third, and your world needs all of you. Selenea’s magic is failing, and without this world, yours will cease to exist. The two are connected and the hoisting is the only thing that will save both.”

  She snorted. Yeah, right.

  “Patrice?” Larisa said in that familiar soft voice.

  “What?”

  “I believe Jakon. I saw what Sorinieve could do with magic.”

  “May the river take he
r swiftly,” Kepriah uttered.

  Larisa’s eyes moved to Kepriah. “Yes.” Her gaze drifted back to Patrice and she fingered the talisman around her neck, all levity gone. “I remember all too well what this did in my own hands. I realize you miss your family and your world, but if there is no way back, should you not make the best of things here? What can it hurt for you to learn about the ring? If you are right and this is all a lie, then nothing will happen. Please, try and use the ring.”

  Larisa had been nothing but nice to her and she fought a groan. “Okay. Fine.” She pointed a finger to Jakon. “But if nothing happens, you let me leave.”

  He studied her a moment. “You must give the ring a true chance, which may take several attempts.”

  “And,” Kepriah said with an air of authority in her voice. “If you succeed, no more idiotic talk of going back to the sister world. You stay here and work on your magic.”

  She almost said, “Who died and made you boss?” but a glance back at where Sorinieve’s body had been answered that question in all too realness. If attempting to do some stupid magic and failing would get Patrice home, then she would do it. Several times if necessary. “Okay. Anything. Let’s just get on with it.” I want to go home.

  Larisa called her over and she waited until the woman had a salve prepared. Once her hand was wrapped, leaving only the blue-stoned ring visible, she gave the blonde woman a partial smile. “Thanks. It doesn’t hurt as much now.” Larisa beamed at her. Sheesh, you’d think I just told her she won the lottery.

  Jakon looked extremely pleased and took a posture that reminded Patrice of a professor about to give a lecture. “Are you ready for your lesson, Third?”

  “Sure, whatever.”

  One dark hand indicated the jeweled staff that rested across a large rock. “The scepter holds the power of water and earth.” He nodded to Larisa. “The talisman, the power of fire.” Golden eyes focused on Patrice’s hand. “And the ring holds the power of air. The three together are the most potent tools ever created. The Faytools.”

  “Jakon?” Larisa said. “Who created them?”

  “The Moirai ordered them forged ages ago in the Forgotten Land beyond the Eternal Lake.” He said that as though it were the most natural thing in the world and the other two women nodded.

  Patrice stifled a grunt when those golden eyes moved back to her. Forgotten Land. Eternal Lake. And I bet no one alive today knows where these places are. If they even existed. How convenient. He sounds like a damn cult leader. Her heart sprinted at that thought.

  Jakon moved toward her and didn’t seem surprised when she took a step back. He retrieved a small leather pouch from his trouser pocket and placed it on the same rock where Patrice had tried to smash the ring. Her scathed knuckles throbbed at the memory and she gently rubbed at the cloth now covering them.

  “Aim your ring at this pouch, Third. Clear your mind and envision it moving off the rock onto the ground.”

  “Like telekinesis, eh?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” Eager to speed up things so she could get out of here, Patrice made a fist, hindered slightly by the bandage, and pointed the ring at the pouch. “See? Nothing.”

  “You agreed to give this a fair try, Third. Quiet your mind.”

  She fought the urge to stomp her foot and pout like a frustrated kid. Instead, she used a yoga breathing technique to calm her mind. This took some effort on her part because she hadn’t done yoga in at least two years. Plus, Patrice’s brain never seemed to keep quiet about anything. In fact, it kept her up at night more often than not. She watched the little bag. Nothing happened, just as she had predicted, and she lowered her arm.

  “Again.” Jakon’s tone was firm yet gentle. She tried again without success and raised a brow at the man. “You are not trying hard enough, Third. You must envision the movement.”

  “I did.” When those golden eyes held hers she added, “Fine. But if it doesn’t work this time, I’m done.”

  Before he could argue, she concentrated until she felt calm again and took aim at the pouch. The ring vibrated around her finger, an uncomfortable sensation, until a sudden odd word filled her mind and pushed from her lips. She watched with heart-thumping amazement as the little pouch slid from the rock.

  “No way. You did that, Jakon.” The strange word was lost to her now but she had uttered something.

  Jakon gave her a calm look and his eyes lit. “I did nothing.”

  “Then one of you did.” She pointed an accusatory finger to the women. When both denied it, she inspected the pouch and saw nothing that would enable someone to pull it off the rock. No string, thread or wire. She didn’t find any evidence of magnets, either. “The breeze must have blown it.”

  Jakon glanced over his shoulder to the exit. “The day is quite calm.”

  Not trusting the rock Jakon had chosen, Patrice made her way to the far end of the cave, away from the exit, and placed the pouch on a boulder. She breathed, stilled her mind and took aim with the ring. Nothing happened and she smirked.

  Jakon took a few steps toward her. “You did it once. That means the ring recognizes you and will respond more eagerly each time you use it, but you have to give it a chance.”

  She held up her hand and studied the ring that encircled her middle finger. “So, you’re telling me this ring is alive?” Nervousness caused her to giggle.

  “In a way, yes. The Faytools are infused with ancient knowledge.” Again, he sounded like a professor. “You three were born with the old magic in your blood and the Faytools recognize that. Each time you successfully use your ring, it will become easier to perform difficult tasks. Sorinieve gained great power but it took her several centuries, and she tired much more easily than any of you will. Because she was only Keeper of the Faytools and not a chosen Trine, the scepter had to pull the magic through her with much greater effort.”

  Patrice found she had been listening with interest and she shook her head. Stupid. I can’t believe I’m letting them suck me into these lies again.

  “Try again.”

  Patrice obliged him and a word slipped from her lips just before the pouch slid off the boulder, same as before. Stunned, she just stood there with a shocked look on her face.

  “Good. Now, you made a promise to First Noble. The ring responded to your inborn magic. I know you miss your world but you need to focus on this one. You will honor your promise and not speak of going home to the sister world.”

  She had made that promise. Why did I make such a stupid deal? Well, she might have agreed not to talk about it, but no one could control her thoughts. I will find a way home. I have to. I can’t live like this.

  Kepriah looked pleased, but the look from Larisa said that she sympathized with Patrice. Perhaps the blonde woman would become an ally and help her. Eventually. There would be a right time. There had to be. If only I can get a message home to my parents or Jackie, let them know I’m all right. They must be worried sick by now. “What about a message? I agreed not to talk about going home, but what about getting a message back to my parents? If I can let them know I’m all right—”

  “I am afraid that’s not possible, Third.” Jakon sounded sympathetic at the moment. “The archway is closed. There is no way to contact your world.”

  She refused to believe that. If I can’t get back, the least I can do is try and get a message home. She held onto that hope, despite what Jakon said.

  “Third?” His voice pulled her from her thoughts. “The ring will not allow you to ignore it now. Whether you practice or not, it will now bring visions and begin to call the magic through you. The process is much more pleasant if you work with it and learn to guide it.”

  She found herself staring at this man, mouth dropped, and she closed it as anger rose. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that to begin with? You tricked me!”

  Jakon stepped to her. She stumbled back to keep out of his grasp, until she was flattened against the cave wall, and her uneasiness
built when she saw that the top of her head barely reached his shoulders. Intimidating son of a bitch.

  He peered down at her with those unnerving golden eyes but didn’t touch her. “You were destined to wield the ring. Just as Sorinieve was destined to become Keeper of the Faytools. She tried to put the scepter away, to neglect her magic and ignore the visions, but the scepter would not let her. Not until the Trine was complete.”

  He didn’t need to say what happened to Sorinieve after that. Patrice would always remember the old woman’s death. Despite trying to tell herself this was all a lie, a fabricated world, her hands trembled. Something had moved that pouch. And Sorinieve’s body—She had seen it destroyed with her own eyes. “So, what you’re saying is this stupid ring will use me whether I agree or not and I’ll never be rid of it.” Those thoughts made her heart drum faster.

  “Exactly.” He seemed please.

  When Jakon moved away from her, her courage swelled again. “Then it can do this hoisting you keep blabbering on about. I’m not using it again.”

  He eyed her like a patient professor. “The ring cannot do the hoisting. It is not intelligent. Just—”

  “Programmed.” He gave her a look of incomprehension and she sighed. “Programmed. Like a computer. Taught to do a limited amount of activities.”

  “Yes, Noble. The Faytools have been—programmed. Now, move the pouch again.”

  Patrice thought of ignoring him, but the events of last night and today left her feeling less than confident about her position here. What exactly would the ring do to her? Providing it could actually do anything. Did she want to find out? When she first put the ring on, she had no control over her actions.

  I was helpless then. Something forced me to put it on but none of them even touched me. And hypnosis can’t make a person do what they don’t want to do. Can there really be something to this magic they keep talking about? She wanted to palm her forehead. Don’t be a dolt, Patrice. There’s no such thing as magic. It’s probably just part of their brainwashing techniques to get you to believe in their fantasy.