Moonlight Rising

by Linski, Megan

  “How much are they keeping?” Data asked.

  “They said eighty-twenty.”

  “Who gets eighty?” Claire’s long pause was apparently all the answer Data needed. “You realize they’re giving you a terrible deal, right?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Claire said.

  “It does matter if you can’t afford to live. Where will you stay? Plus, I heard from Lauren that one of the sisters said there’s an Abyssal Prime, or something close to it, over the river. They said there’s been an unusual amount of demon activity the last few nights.”

  “So?”

  “So it’s freaking dangerous out there. Even if it wasn’t, you still belong here with us,” Data said.

  “I want to find my family.”

  “It’s been ten years,” Data said. “They’ve probably moved on. What are you going to do when you show up and they don’t even know who you are? Do you even know where to go? ‘A little green house by the lake’ could be anywhere. Are you going to visit every lake in the country and start looking for green houses? Good plan, Claire.”

  Claire felt like she’d been slapped in the face. Her cheeks heated as she quietly took her small backpack from the bottom of the wardrobe. “You don’t have to be mean,” she said as she quickly piled her underwear and a few of her uniform shirts into the bag.

  Many of the girls kept their stories quiet; sharing how they’d come to the Lumina was a sign of deep trust. Data’s parents had been possessed. Like so many others, they’d been lured into the night by the subtle whisperings of dark creatures. Leaving the safety of their own home, they’d been taken into the night and never returned. She was barely three when a neighbor found her crying alone in the front yard. Data had spent two years in a regular orphanage, and when she’d showed her first hint of magic, that pesky little spark, she’d been taken to the closest Lumina House.

  But Claire had been taken away, not rescued. She barely remembered it now; she’d realized that the little wisps around her weren’t quite normal when she saw the look on her babysitter’s face. The small golden butterflies fluttered around her, their bodies made of pure sunlight. It was beautiful, but the babysitter looked sad, maybe even scared. Her mom’s face had been shocked when she came to take her home that day. It had only been a few days later when the sisters of the Lumina came and stole her away, claiming her power for their own and ripping her away from her mother and older brother.

  “I just don’t want you to make a big mistake,” Data said. “You’re my best friend. I want you to stay.”

  Claire glanced over her shoulder. “Even if I stay, I won’t be here much longer.”

  “That was a rumor, and you know it. They’re not going to test you yet. You drive the sisters crazy. There’s no way.”

  Claire pulled open the bottom drawer, where she kept a small collection of personal belongings under her pajamas. She took out a red leather-bound book with a cracked plastic label. It was a collection of fairy tales she’d pilfered from the Blessed Shield home, the first place she’d been taken as a kid. The first story in the collection was The Dragon’s Princess, which her mother had read to her almost every night. This version didn’t have the same whimsical watercolor illustrations as the one her mother had read, but the story still reminded her of home. Tucked into the table of contents was a folded letter. She took it out and handed it over. Data skimmed it.

  Her eyes went wide as she got to the bottom of the letter. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  She’d read it once before hiding it, as if putting it out of sight would ensure that nothing happened from it, or that Sister Danica would simply forget she’d delivered it to her. The exact wording hadn’t had a chance to sink into her memory, but she remembered the gist of it. The sisters at Golden Rose had determined that Claire demonstrated sufficient power and skill to be tested for advancement in the next six months, even though it was over a year earlier than most tested. If she passed and completed the subsequent training, she would be initiated as a full-fledged sister of the Order of Lumina, and that was a life sentence.

  The letter had given her the final push to move forward on her plan to leave. She’d been on the fence, largely because of her friendship with Data. But if she was tested and sent on for further training, she’d be leaving Golden Rose anyway. She’d still be separated from Data and it would be infinitely harder to get out then.

  “This is good news,” Data said, throwing up her hands in frustration.

  “I don’t see it that way,” Claire replied. She stuffed the book of fairy tales into her backpack. The added weight was inconvenient, but she couldn’t leave it behind. There weren’t many other things to call hers; an envelope filled with sharp-creased origami creations that Data made for her birthday each year, a few drawing pencils, and a small notebook. She carefully deposited everything and tucked the origami into an interior pocket.

  “Obviously,” Data said. “You know what? I’ll let it go, because I’m going to say something I regret once you go.” Springs creaked as she sat back on her bed, continuing to watch the proceedings with her face in shadow.

  Claire felt the heavy weight of her friend’s disapproval as she took out her least favorite, though arguably her most valuable, possessions. Wrapped in a dark towel were two wickedly sharp daggers. Despite the dingy fabric strips wrapped around the handles, the engraved blades were polished to a shine.

  While magic was their most powerful weapon against the dark, sharp steel was nothing to scoff at. She’d always been quick on her feet, and the daggers had all but called to her on her first day of weapons training. Though she’d been taught to use a sword and a staff, among others, she’d always come back to the twin daggers.

  Claire slid one blade into each of the large pockets inside the coat, then put it on, wiggling in place until it hung right on her shoulders. The last addition was a neatly coiled golden cord, as thick as her forefinger and six feet long. The Apollo Cord was warm to the touch, thrumming with power. It was the unique weapon of the Lumina, and while Claire was ready to leave the name behind, she wouldn’t turn down a useful tool.

  She secured the cord into a leather loop with a snap and turned to Data. “I guess this is it.”

  “I guess so,” Data said evenly. Her hand slipped up to her eye like she was wiping away a tear, but she didn’t flinch. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Data, we’re still going to be friends.”

  “Gee, that’ll be really comforting when I never see you again,” Data replied. “It’s fine. That’s part of this life as much as the bad food and annoying roommates. You get used to people disappearing. I just didn’t think it would be so soon with you.” Her forced smile didn’t make it up to her sad eyes. “Be careful, Claire. May the sun illuminate your path and always guide you true.” With that, she picked up her math book and opened it again.

  Claire took a deep breath as she secured the backpack over her shoulder, testing to make sure she could get to her daggers. As she went through the motions, she eyeballed Data. Her bunkmate was already taking notes on a pad of paper, lips moving silently as she wrote, her other hand toying with her braid. She’d hoped for some kind of encouragement from her friend, maybe a heartfelt conversation and a hug, but it seemed this was all she was going to get.

  Maybe it was strange, but the thought of a birthday without one of Data’s painstakingly folded masterpieces formed a hard lump in her throat. Her eyes stung with tears as she left the room. Scrubbing at her eyes with her sleeve, she took a deep breath and set her jaw.

  This didn’t change anything. She had a schedule to keep. Maybe someday, when they were both older, they’d find each other again.

  As she hurried down the main hallway, another loud bell sounded over the intercom. The excited buzz ceased, like someone had flipped a switch. Claire paused to listen.

  “Attention, sisters and students. We are now at thirty minutes until sunset. Again, sunset is in thirty min
utes. Window detail should begin final inspections. Please do your part by inspecting your area. If you see something, say something. Thank you.”

  With the announcement’s conclusion, Claire hurried down the main hallway. Her night was tightly planned. She’d been scheduled for duty at one of the night shelters. It was common for the older novices to be assigned into the community to help guard locations that couldn’t completely shut down for the night. Though more experienced, fully initiated sisters would patrol the main streets by vehicle for straggling civilians, the novices were entrusted with guarding doors, both to keep unwanted intruders out and refugees in. Claire had done a series of duty trades with two other girls, making sure no position was left unattended while she made her quiet exit. She’d simply not told Sister Evangeline to update the master schedule. No one would question why she was walking out the front doors.

  After leaving, she would make a beeline for the night shelter closest to the open lot where the trade caravan was parked. Coded Gamma-Rose by the Lumina, it was on Gambill Street, close to the edge of town. It would take her about half an hour to get from Golden Rose to the shelter, where she could catch a little sleep, then get up just before sunrise to meet the caravan on the road out of town. From there, she’d be free, and she’d figure out the rest while watching the road blur by from the caravan.

  Consumed in thought, Claire was oblivious when she barreled into Sister Danica. Bouncing off the taller woman’s chest, a flush burned her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sister,” Claire said, bowing politely.

  The other woman glared down at her. Danica was one step removed from running the school. Sister Helen officially ran Golden Rose, with Sisters Danica, Anne-Marie, and Evangeline as her direct subordinates. Danica was the most fearsome in Claire’s eyes, probably because Claire seemed to have a target on her back that only Danica could see.

  While she didn’t currently wear any ceremonial clothing, there was no mistaking what Danica was. Deep-set under full, arched brows, the woman’s eyes were mismatched. The left one was dark, chocolate brown. A thin scar trailed from her right eyelid and down the smooth skin of her deep brown cheek like a fallen tear. Her right eye was unnatural gold, glowing faintly. The pupil was oblong; not quite cat-like, but not entirely human. The asymmetry was unsettling, and left no doubt of Danica’s power. She had risen in the Lumina ranks, undergoing a ritual that gave her supernatural sight in the enhanced golden orb.

  Her eyes, both natural and magical, swept over Claire. “Are you on duty? You should already be gone.”

  “Y-yes. Yes, ma’am,” Claire said. Could that eerie yellow eye see right through her? “I’m supposed to go to the Corbin Street shelter. Uh, Charlie-Gold, I mean.”

  Danica pursed her lips. She didn’t blink, keeping Claire pinned with that one eerie golden eye. Claire’s throat went dry as she envisioned her well-laid plan crumbling beneath a fiery beam of her gaze. The rumor was that Danica and the other sisters could see the soul hiding inside the body; surely she could see that Claire wasn’t being completely honest. Finally she gestured for Claire to follow. “Then I need you to deliver something for me. Follow me to the office.”

  Chapter Two

  -nineteen minutes until sunset-

  It’s fine, Claire told herself as she exited the main doors and clambered down the stairs. Danica’s interruption had cost her precious time and would put her way off of her planned route. But refusing the assignment would have created a stir that might have cut her plan off before she even got out the door. It was her only choice, unless she wanted to wager her entire plan on being able to outrun Sister Danica upon outright refusing her orders.

  The windows along the long front façade of the school were secured with dark metal shutters. With the shutters closed, each window was marked with a gold-painted glyph representing the sun. Several novices patrolled the grounds, doing final inspections of the windows and testing the outer doors.

  Claire ignored the preparations and headed for the rack of bicycles in the parking lot. Three Jeeps were parked in a neat line along the row closest to the school. Sister Jackie was at one of them, pouring gasoline into the tank from a big red can. Deep claw marks marred the dusty red hood of the vehicle. The older woman didn’t seem to notice or care as Claire walked past her to walk one of the communal bikes out of the rack.

  As Claire rode out of campus and onto the main road, the sun had already disappeared beyond a distant band of trees. The last vestiges of its glow still illuminated the sky in the rich purple of twilight. All around her, the town of Barr’s Ferry was finalizing its preparations for sunset. Golden Rose was just a few blocks from Dorchester Avenue, the main road through the downtown.

  Dorchester Avenue was nearly deserted with only a few minutes until sunset. The shops and restaurants were long closed. The store on the corner of Dorchester and Smith Street was still open for last minute customers, but its owner, Mrs. Garrett, stood at the door with her arms crossed as she peered outside. Claire had actually performed the sealing ritual on the store a few months earlier. Garrett lived above the store in a small apartment, whose shutters were already secured.

  A yellow piece of paper was taped to the glass door, matching identical signs on the other businesses along Dorchester Avenue. Distributed by the Lumina, the signs listed sunrise and sunset times for a two week period, allowing the people of Barr’s Ferry to plan their days accordingly. Another crew of novices would be on duty in another week or so to distribute the new schedules around town.

  As Claire pedaled past the corner store, a staticky burst erupted over the public announcement system, echoing in the quiet. After clearing his throat with a rough cough, a male voice said, “Citizens, we have fifteen minutes until sunset. Please make all appropriate precautions and be safe.”

  The reminder of the time put an extra oomph in Claire’s pace. For just a moment, she considered skipping the delivery. But the sun flares were defensive measures, essentially grenades of sunlight. If a shelter came under attack at night, an activated sun flare would burn in a bright sphere for a good while, helping to blockade a door or window and protect the inhabitants. Even if she never saw Danica’s face again, she would know that she’d endangered the people at the Corbin Street shelter by shirking her responsibility. Her conscience would bear the heavy burden.

  The magic that burned in Claire’s chest weakened to a dull ember as the sun sank further into its repose. Much of their practice and training at Golden Rose was conducted outside, both to build their tolerance for discomfort and for the continued exposure to the sun. Claire would be at her weakest in the middle of the night, but it was like turning the shower down; there was still plenty of water to do the job. Furthermore, her daggers and the Apollo Cord both trapped the sun’s energy for additional power.

  From the intersection at Smith, Dorchester Avenue sloped up gently into a wooded residential area. Claire gritted her teeth as her legs protested the hard ride after running nearly four miles that afternoon. Corbin Street wasn’t much farther, and she wanted to get in and out before sunset. As she pedaled up the slight yet unrelenting incline, a red Jeep drove slowly down the opposite lane. The gold sun symbol on the hood marked it as a Lumina vehicle, already beginning early patrols.

  Bright, warm light spilled in an arc from the Corbin Street shelter at the end of the block. Situated on the corner of Dorchester and Corbin Street, the shelter was a squat, ugly building. Concrete slabs painted with sun symbols hung at regular intervals where there once might have been windows. Even with the thick concrete and the warding built into the walls, the slabs were furrowed by crisscrossing claw marks.

  Claire leaned her bike against a street light and hurried up to the front doors, which were guarded by two Lumina novices. One was Mary, the girl she’d traded assignments with for the night. Mary was dressed similarly to Claire, in snug dark clothing. The shorter girl had a sword strapped to her back, its fabric-wrapped hilt peeking over her shoulder.

  The other was a b
oy, likely from Murray House, the boys’ home across town. Since Claire had lived with all girls since being taken from her family, she’d been shocked to find out at the age of nine that there were, in fact, boys trained for the Lumina, and that they had brothers as well as sisters. Rumor had it that if a novice was promoted for initiate training, they would train with the girls and boys together.

  The boy standing guard with Mary was tall and tanned from hours in the sun. His thick brown hair glinted with thin filaments of gold. Her heart thumped as he glanced at her. Both his eyes were a warm shade of brown, so he was still a novice like her.

  He frowned. “You should get inside.”

  “Claire? What are you doing here?” Mary asked, her brow furrowed.

  The boy’s gaze clung to her like a cobweb. Pushing aside her paranoia, Claire rifled through her backpack. “Sister Danica sent these for you,” she said. The metal canisters of the flares clanked against each other as she took out the zippered bag and offered it to Mary.

  “Oh,” Mary said, peeking inside. “I saw her right before I left. Why did she send you instead?”

  Claire’s face heated. “She forgot. I told her I’d get them here quickly.”

  Mary’s thin eyebrow arched. How well did she know Sister Danica? Because Danica didn’t forget anything. But if it bothered Mary, she didn’t show it as she tucked the bag under her arm. “Okay. Thanks. You should probably get back. It’s close now.”