Dave Gross: Mistress of the Night

"Not that you needed much initiation, as I recall." "My mother taught me well."

Mifano fell silent for a moment, then said quietly, "We were all sorry to hear about your mother's death. In spite of her choices, she was an example to us all."

Feena looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Though he was no older than her own almost thirty years, when he chose to be serious Mifano seemed to age into sudden maturity. Maybe it was because he always played the role of the flirt that he usually seemed younger. Maybe it was because his prematurely silver hair that some claimed was a mark of Selune's favor lent him a strange sense of agelessness. Either way, she could in that moment see how the man she remembered as a clownish adolescent could have risen to prominence as a priest.

"Thank you," she said. She let the awkward silence drift for a heartbeat longer, then cleared her throat and added, "I hear that you've been making a reputation for yourself as well."

"I've taken on some extra duties at Moonshadow Hall" Mifano said with mock humility.

He gave a casual shrug that shifted his half-cape back behind his left shoulder, exposing the sword that rode on his hip. Feena's eyebrows rose at the sight of the weapon. The hilt that curled out of the scabbard was forged from bright steel, decorated with silver and mother-of-pearl, and marked with a crescent inside the circle of a full moon. Mifano's smile grew wide.

"Why, Feena," he asked suggestively, "are you staring at my sword?"

"Give it up, Mifano." She pointed at the sword and asked, "Is that really the Waxing Crescent?"

He grinned and nodded. Feena whistled. The sword was an artifact of Moonshadow Hall, traditionally given as a symbol of office to the priest or priestess who represented the business of the Hall in the city at large. It was a high honor and one of the most powerful positions within the temple.

"You have made a reputation for yourself! But I've never seen the Waxing Crescent carried outside of ceremonies before."

"Why shouldn't I carry it? It's a badge of honor and a fine weapon." He stroked the hilt. "And other than you apparently, women love"

Feena wrinkled her nose. "I get the point," she said as they stepped through another set of doors and into the cloisters around the temple courtyard. "So if you hold the Waxing Crescent, who holds the Waning Crescent?"

Mifano grimaced and flicked a finger along the open air passage.

Coming along the cloister toward them was a small cluster of priestesses. In the lead, issuing instructions as she walked, was a tall woman with soft brown hair that fell to her shoulders. On her belt hung the sword that was the twin to Mifano's: the Waning Crescent, symbol of administrative authority within Moonshadow Hall. She looked up and met Feena's gaze.

Feena suppressed a scowl and said, "Well met, Velsinore."

Velsinore looked as though she was choking back similar distaste but answered, "Well met, Feena."

Velsinore murmured something to two of the three women following her and they scurried away, leaving one to trail in Velsinore's wake as she paced forward. With every step, the Waning Crescent slapped against Velsinore's leg and Feena wondered why she even bothered to wear it. Then she saw the look of hostility that passed between Velsinore and Mifano and understood.

She wears her sword because he wears his, thought Feena. Moonmaiden's grace, whatever else Dhauna wants me for, I've arrived in the middle of a power struggle!

"I was looking for you earlier," Velsinore told Mifano. "I had assumed you were out in the city pursuing one of your dalliances in lieu of your duties."

"My 'dalliances' are part of my duties," Mifano replied. His voice was as smooth as oil. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to see the cupboard bare as donations fall. But I wasn't dallying. Not outside of Moonshadow Hall at least."

He slipped his hand around Feena's arm. The visiting priestess jerked free and gave Mifano a scowl as Velsinore turned her attention back to her.

"Mifano met me at the gate and escorted me here," Feena explained.

"I'm sure he did," Velsinore murmured as she looked Feena up and down, examining her country skirt and blouse. Feena flushed. The tall priestess wasn't dressed quite so fancifully as Mifanoshe wore a simple high-collared robe of dove gray. The very simplicity of the robe, however, spoke of sophistication and authority. Feena's clothes, on the other hand, spoke of dirt, labor, and the country. A long crust of wolf spittle stained her skirt. She must have drooled during her travels. Angry, she wiped at the stain.

Velsinore's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "So you've returned to Moonshadow Hall. Have you given up your mother's vendetta against the servants of Malar?"

Feena flushed even deeper and said, "Do you mean 'have I stopped defending Arch Wood village against the predators of the Beastlord to fight the shadowy minions of Shar because Shar should be the only enemy that really matters to a priestess of Selune?'"

"When you put it that way," said Velsinore, "yes."

"No."

"Ah," Velsinore said as she folded her hands. "Then why have you come back? I imagine Mifano was too busy flirting with you to ask."

Mifano's eyes narrowed. "I was offering her hospitality."

"Which is my responsibility," said Velsinore. She glanced at Feena. "We have space in the acolyte's common room, of course. You're welcome to it."

"I don't think I'll be staying," Feena growledat both of them. "I'm only here because Dhauna Myritar sent for me."

Both Mifano and Velsinore stared at her. "She sent for you?" asked Velsinore. "A prayer carried on the Moonmaiden's beams," said Feena. She crossed her arms. "Do you doubt me?"

Velsinore and Mifano exchanged a glance, then Mifano looked back to Feena and asked, "When?"

Feena bit her tongue. "Recently," she said, evading. "Where is she? I'll talk to her and be on my way."

"In her quarters, preparing for the Full Moon Blessing," Velsinore told her. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then gestured for the priestess who had remained with her. "Tam, take Feena to the High Moonmistress."

Feena froze the younger priestess with a glare and said, "I know how to get there."

She strode off along the cloister, leaving the startled priestess in her wake. A heartbeat later, rapid footsteps followed her.

"Feena!" called Mifano. "Wait!"

"Why?" Feena swung through another door and back into the interior of the temple. The ramp that led up to the second floor and the high priestess's quarters was just beyond.

Mifano caught her hand. "You should know," he said hastily. "Dhauna has… things have changed at Moonshadow Hall. They're complicated."

Feena pulled away. "Things never change," she said. "They're always… complicated."

Feena raised her hand to knock on the carved wood of the High Moonmistress's quarters and was suddenly reminded of a precocious fifteen-year-old acolyte summoned before the high priestess of Moonshadow Hall for pummeling a silver: haired boy who had presented her with a collar and leash. She forced the memory aside. Some things did change. She rapped on the wood.

When there was no immediate response, she knocked again.

"Mother Dhauna, it's"

The door opened partway before she could finish. A young, dark-haired priestess peered out. She wore a harried expression.

"Please," she said quickly, "this isn't a good time. Can you come back later?"

Feena blinked. "I'd rather-"

"Feena?" Dhauna's voice rose from somewhere inside. "Feena, is that you?"

The dark-haired woman winced, but Feena raised her voice and called back, "It's me, Mother Dhauna!"

"By Our Silver Lady!" The high priestess's voice was shrill and excited. "Finally! Let her in, Julith! Let her in!"