Dave Gross: Mistress of the Night

The bird let out a screech and flung its wings wide. Lightning flashed in a crackling burst that seemed to hit Keph from every angle at once, lifting him off his feet even as it knocked him across the floor to crash into tall stools set before one of the other tables. Brilliant flashes lit his visionfor a moment it seemed as if he couldn't close his eyes. His hair stood on end. The sweat that had soaked his clothes puffed away into rank steam.

The falcon's eyes, glowing bright blue, were fixed on him. Keph ground his teeth. He couldn't hide from the bird. He couldn't get past it. How was he supposed to deal with something that was faster than he was?

The same way Lyraene and the Sharrans had dealt with Quick: brute force. Attack the weapon, not the wielder. His hand closed on the leg of one of the stools. It was good, heavy wood. The seat of the stool was even heavier.

Keph surged to his feet and charged at the falcon, stool raised.

Lightning crashed against him, another thin, stinging stream. Keph sucked in his breath at the pain, but didn't stop. The falcon screeched again, spreading its wings. Before it could unleash another powerful burst, he twisted around and swung the stool with all of his strength and weight.

The heavy wood smashed into the bird with a crunch and swept it off its perch. It hurtled across the room to crash against the far wall with a metallic clatter. Keph darted after it. One wing bent back, its entire side bashed in, the thing lay on its back, struggling to right itself. Lightning crackled in wild arcs across its battered copper feathers. Keph spun the stool around in his grip. Holding it upside-down by two legs, he drove the broad wooden seat down against the construct.

Metal crumpled and screeched. He hit the bird again. Blue sparks spurted out in a final cascade. Keph lifted the stool and peered underneath. The falcon lay against the floor like a broken toy. It wasn't moving.

Keph dropped the stool and staggered to the table with the coins and the silk-swathed object. He reached out and twitched the silk aside.

Shouts and screams echoed through Moonshadow Hall as Feena, most of her weight on Julith's shoulders, stumbled out into the cloisters. An acolyte racing through the cloisters nearly ran them down.

"What news?" Julith asked.

"There's no sign of the guard yet," the girl replied, gasping for breath. Her voice was very nearly hysterical. "There's something happening over in the Stiltways!"

"A distraction," groaned Feena with dreadful certainty. The guard would go there first, trusting thick walls and Selune's might to give Moonshadow Hall a chance to hold out on its own for a time. "No help from the guard."

"Carry that message, girl!" Julith said. "We must have faith in Selune. Let all her servants hold their ground."

The acolyte plunged on along the cloisters. Julith twisted her head around and Feena caught fear in her eyes.

"Are you sure about this, Feena?" she asked. "Yes," said Feena.

Her head was swimming. Her vision was blurred and fading. Her legs felt numb, cold, and heavy. She knew that if she looked back the way she and Julith had comeif she'd been able to look backshe would have seen a steady trail of bright red blood. She needed more than healing. Tyver had given her a clue.

"Do you know what will happen?" whispered Julith.

Feena managed a grin and said, "No."

A shudder wracked her. She didn't even have the strength to cough anymore. Her throat felt like it was filling with blood again. Julith turned away, her face grim.

"Ready, then?" she asked. "Last few paces."

Feena's heart fluttered with agony as they staggered together across the cloister and through the gate of the waning crescent. Moonlight, the last of her spell, still sparkled on the grass of the courtyard. More light winked in and out above, conjured by Selunites only to be blotted out by shadows called by the Sharransby Variance or Bolan.

Feena could make out arrows and stones littering the ground. At least some of the Sharrans' attacks had reached over the temple walls. The sacred space of the courtyard was empty of other people, thoughMoonshadow Hall's defenders had other places to be.

The book of the New Moon Pact lay close to the blood-darkened grass where Mifano had fallen. Had Chandri's prayers rescued the silver-haired priest? Feena couldn't ask the question.

"Hurry, Julith," she breathed. She tried to point to the pool, but her free arm just flailed loosely. "Beside the pool."

The dark-haired priestess dragged her over and lowered her down beside the ancient stone wall around the pool, then raced to snatch up the abandoned book.

"What now, Feena?" she asked.

Feena prayed that her next guess was correct. "The first page," she rasped. "There's a rite…"

Julith opened the book and scanned the page. Stepping into the brightest of the light that shone from above, she raised the ancient text and read aloud.

"What time has consumed, not even gods can recall, but know thisthese words were spoken by those who first made pact with the Moonmaiden, just as they were spoken by the last. This is the sacred rite of the New Moon." Her voice rose. "Selune, Moonmaiden, Silver Lady of the Night, hear me!"

"Hear me…" echoed Feena. The words were weak and faltering. She reached up and groped for the stone wall, dragging herself upright with trembling arms. "Selune," she prayed with all the strength she could force out of her battered body, "Moonmaiden, Silver Lady of the Night, hear me!"

"I have roamed in darkness"

"I have roamed in darkness," repeated Feena. The words tore at her throat, but she forced them out anyway, speaking them as Julith read from the book.

"Shadows hold no fear for me. Under your light I have run the moon's road. I have known your bright faces: joy, strength, and wisdom. For your sake, I have held death itself at bay, but the Ancient Knight is swift"

Up on the rooftops, there was a wail of pain. It ended sharply. Outside, Sharrans cheered. There was a hiss and patter like rain as arrows came falling out of the sky. Shouts from above heralded the reaction of Selune's faithful. Slings hummed and the shower of arrows came to an abrupt end. Julith's voice broke and she huddled down, but kept reading.

"and I must be swifter!"

The hair on Feena's neck rose. Under the blood that stiffened her robes and caked her arms, she could feel her skin tingling. She heaved with weakened arms and numbed legs. The words were the oath of a warrior and she would not speak them sitting down. Bracing herself against the stones of the wall, she rose into a crouch. Her head spun, but she stayed up and the words poured out of her.

"By blood spilled, by my faith, give me your blessing and I shall be yours. I will strike down your enemies. I will be your claws and your teeth. Where darkness lies, I will be the unseen shield that defends the children of both sun and moon. Where they have fallen, I will make silent vengeance that no more shall follow. Where shadow gathers, I will be the secret light that turns it aside."

She heard dull thunder and desperate screams. The Sharrans had turned some kind of battering ram against

Moonshadow Hall's gates. Julith faltered, her voice almost fading away, but it seemed to Feena that she could hear the words of the oath in her heart, as if she had always known them both as a woman and as a wolf. She lifted her arm, reaching up toward the dark, shrouded sky. Her legs straightened. For a moment, she stood tall, ignoring the pain that stroked up and down her spine and the crippling ache that throbbed in her head.

"Selune, make pact with me for I have seen your hidden face! Between light and light, the new moon guards the night! Selune, make"

Her vision faded. Her balance pitched.

"— pact-"