FULL MOON

by Jennifer St. Clair

  The hound stood about ten feet away, watching her, its eyes narrowed, its teeth bared.

  "Even your mistress would not order the death of a Healer," Sennet said, hoping she was right. "Let us pass."

  The hound shifted shape--not kindly, but in painful stages until it stood in front of her, seemingly of elvish origin. "My mistress bade me follow her--" it pointed to Rose, who growled, "and stop her from alerting you. I failed in my task."

  Its shifting had only taken a handful of seconds, but seconds were important. Were they more vulnerable between shapes? Sennet made a mental note to mention that to Ceidrin when she returned.

  "And her companion?" Sennet asked. "What of him?"

  The hound cocked its head, as if it sensed her concern. "I don't know. Is he dead?"

  "Not yet," Sennet said.

  The hound frowned. "Pity. It might have been best if he died."

  "Will you stop me from going to him?" Sennet asked.

  "My mistress did not order me to," the hound said.

  Sennet stared at it. "And you only do what your mistress wishes?"

  The hound shrugged, shifted shape--quicker, this time, as if its body remembered its hound shape more fondly than its elvish one--and vanished into the trees.

  "Stay near me," Sennet said, and twined her fingers through the fur around Rose's neck. It only took a moment to fix Edward's location in her mind--and recognize his tormentor--but by the time she found the spot, both Edward and Oriellen were gone.

  Rose sniffed at a patch of bloody snow, and then the dead Hound. Sennet knelt at the edge of the worst of the blood and pulled an iron bolt out of the ground near where Edward had fallen. And then, with only the bolt in her hand and nothing more, she called Rose to her side again and returned home.

  There were two hounds outside her wards when she arrived, but her house's front door was still closed and she saw nothing from the outside, looking in.

  But everyone--Gene and Ceidrin, Elinor and Lucien--sat around the kitchen table, and Ceidrin was the first to speak when Sennet gently set the bolt down among them.

  "Is he dead?"

  "He wasn't," Sennet said. "But Oriellen took him before I could get there."

  "She was there." Gene shivered. "With her hounds."

  "Yes," Sennet said, watching Ceidrin's face. "She was there. Hunting in the human realm. I have neighbors here, you realize. We're not at all far from civilization."

  "She is breaking the rules," Ceidrin said distantly, his eyes half-closed. "And now, at the least, she knows Lucien is here, and maybe me as well."

  "Two of her hounds are outside," Sennet said. "No doubt wanting to get a glimpse of whomever else I am hiding."

  "Why would they know of your presence?" Lucien asked.

  Ceidrin touched the iron bolt, then snatched his hand away. "The last they know, I was with you," he said. "Can you--" He looked at Sennet now, his gaze full of torment. "Can you open another portal? Like we did for Gene?"

  "Do you have a lock of Edward's hair?" Sennet asked. "There's blood, in the forest, and a dead hound, but blood doesn't work for portals unless you're very, very good. And my talents in that respect aren't good enough to use Edward's blood."

  "There's a dead hound?" Lucien asked. "He killed one of them?" He sounded more surprised than joyous, as if he had half-believed his claim that they could not be killed.

  "He killed one of them at a terrible price," Elinor reminded him. "Why did he leave your wards?"

  "I don't think Edward's reasoning for stepping outside the wards are the issue here," Sennet said softly, still watching Ceidrin. He seemed poised on the brink of some terrible declaration, and she didn't have to guess what it would be. "How can we get him back?"

  "By making sure Oriellen is distracted enough not to kill him," Ceidrin said quietly. "To give him a chance to escape."

  "What kind of distraction are you planning?" Lucien asked suspiciously.

  Ceidrin stood up. "I'm calling Council," he said. "This has gone far enough." He hesitated, and glanced down at Gene. "The only way anyone will accept my change of mind is if they think you died in Oriellen's dungeons, or soon after," he said. "Will you stay here? I swear I'll give you a chance at them once Edward is safe."

  Gene stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Of course."

  "Gene's welcome to stay here," Sennet said. "But don't you need support to back your claim to the throne?"

  "You have my support," Lucien said quietly.

  Ceidrin nodded. "Thank you."

  "And mine, of course," Elinor said. "If I can give it." She glanced at Sennet. "Can I?"

  "A Healer's endorsement is a powerful thing," Sennet said. "But what will stop Oriellen from murdering Edward in retaliation?"

  "Nothing," Ceidrin said. "But if I can get word to Dierin, if she is still free, then perhaps she can help. That's the only thing I can think of. I should have--"

  "You couldn't have done anything differently," Gene said.

  "And even Rose did not sense them coming," Sennet said. "They had no warning at all. And I didn't think they had found my house so quickly or I never would have let Edward and Rose go past my wards."

  Ceidrin took a deep breath. "Our only potential problem with fictionalizing Gene's death is that Edward knows he's alive, and if Oriellen truthspells him--"

  "Worry about that later," Sennet suggested. "She won't ask him until you show your hand and assume the throne. Gene and I will work on finding Dierin--she knows Gene is alive, too, for that matter."

  "That means my life is in your hands, Elinor," Ceidrin said.

  "Well, I can't be your food taster, but I'll do my best to keep you alive," Elinor replied. "I wish I could do something for Edward, though--"

  "At the moment, the only thing we can do is hope he doesn't die before we can free him," Sennet said. "It's not enough, by any means, but it's the only thing we can do."

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  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Edward awoke the first time when someone tore both bolts from his arms in one swift movement that did not heighten the pain. He opened his eyes to dazzling brightness, closed them again, and heard a voice echo in his mind.

  "He's awake."

  It was a growling voice, as if the speaker had tusks instead of teeth. Or fangs.

  When his unknown nursemaid tried to straighten his broken leg, he drifted away again with the growling voice ringing in his ears.

  "You've lost him again."

  "I know," a second voice snapped, and did something that brought him out of the darkness into cold clarity.

  Edward reacted the only way he knew how, with the wards he'd placed around his mind. But the presence bending over him evaded his feeble defenses and left his mind alone. And a moment later, Edward felt half-familiar Healing magic course through his body, healing his wounds.

  He spoke without opening his eyes. "If she will destroy your work by killing me, don't bother."

  The owner of the growling voice laughed. "There's nothing wrong with his mind, at least. That--bodes better than the last one."

  Edward felt a surge of guilt from the Healer, as if he had tried--and failed--to save whoever the last one had been. He opened his eyes and squinted up at the blinding light, realizing only after a moment that it was a lamp, bare of any shade, casting a light so bright that it chased away most of the shadows in the room.

  "She's not the one I'm worried about," the Healer said, and motioned towards the lamp with one hand. The light dimmed enough for Edward to see, but the afterimages superimposed on his vision lasted for what seems like eons. "I apologize for the brightness. I can't see well in anything but full sunlight, and there's little of that down here."

  "You're on your last light bulb," the growling voice said.

  The Healer squinted down at Edward. "You'll have to find me more."

  "And if I cannot?"

  Edward couldn't see the owner of the voice any more than he could make out th
e features of the Healer's face. He squeezed his eyes shut, opened them, and tried again to focus.

  "Then--" The Healer's hands lay lightly on Edward's left shoulder, his talent at work as he sat there, as if all he had to do was act as a conduit. "Then you'll have to be my guide dog."

  For a moment, the growling voice did not reply. The Healer tensed, as if he realized he had gone too far with that comment, and opened his mouth, perhaps to refute his words.

  "Do your work, boy," the voice finally whispered, sounding both weary and frustrated. "You won't go blind."

  "Thank you," the Healer whispered, and bowed his head.

  For the first time, Edward saw the Healer clearly. He stared, struggling to think why the boy looked so familiar.

  "I'm Elinor's brother," the Healer said.

  "As if that would mean anything to him, Luka," the growling voice snapped.

  "It does," Edward whispered, and tried to sit up.

  Luka gently pushed him back down. "Please. Lie still and let me work."

  "How did you know?" Edward asked.

  Luka shook his head. "Sometimes Healers can see--things," he whispered. "But I could recognize my sister's hand in the healing of your older wounds. She's--"

  "She's alive," Edward said. "Or she was. I assume she's still safe."

  "You were--with her?" Luka asked.

  That was fairly simple news to uncover without betraying anyone else. "Yes."

  Something moved past the lamp's burning light, a shadowy figure that seemed somehow wrong, as if one of the lumpish pieces should belong to a head that did not sit on mundane shoulders. Edward hadn't seen Oriellen's hounds shift shape, but the hunched figure reminded him of how they would look if they did, and perhaps, somehow, got caught between hound and human. Or elf.

  "I hold no loyalty to anyone but the true king," Luka said.

  "And who is that?" Edward asked, realizing that by right of birth, he was the true king, no matter how strange that sounded.

  Luka glanced at the figure on the other side of the lamp.

  It chuckled. "You'll find no argument here," it said. "She holds the key to my chains, but not my loyalty."

  "By right of succession, that would be Ceidrin," Luka said. "He is--"

  "I know Ceidrin," Edward whispered, and closed his eyes. "But what are you doing here?"

  "Oriellen wouldn't allow Meinren to kill me," Luka said simply. "He killed my mother--" He said this last part as if hoping Edward would reply that his mother wasn't dead, but according to Ceidrin, she was. "He destroyed our home--"

  "I thought the hounds killed your mother," Edward said. Ceidrin had assumed that, at least.

  "No." Again, Luka glanced at the figure on the other side of the lamp. "Meinren killed her and left her body to burn in the sun."

  "Elinor did not speak of a brother," Edward said before he could reconsider his words. Perhaps Elinor had a very good reason not to speak of her brother, despite his talk of loyalty to the true king.

  "We--we don't speak," Luka said, and closed his eyes again. "She would be glad if I died, I'm sure." He turned away from Edward, then, and the figure behind the lamp spoke.

  "Luka, don't."

  "Where is it?" Luka whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't--" His hands scrabbled across the dirty floor, searching for something Edward could not see. "Ahlos, please."

  Edward knew his wounds weren't completely healed, but he struggled to sit up anyway, trying to get a better glimpse of the figure in the shadows.

  Ahlos was a hound; that much Edward already knew. But Edward's first impression had been correct--something had caught him between shapes, leaving him trapped in a twisted, ugly body with an iron ring around his neck. And perhaps it was the collar that kept him between shapes and not some spell.

  Even then, twisted as he was, he moved quickly enough when Luka found what he was looking for, erupting from his corner with a curse as Luka turned around with a dagger in his hands.

  Edward used up most of his strength to push himself away from both of them, his half-healed leg dragging uselessly across the ground.

  Ahlos propelled Luka across the room and against the wall. The dagger fell from his hand and clattered on the floor; Edward thought about trying to crawl for it, but he doubted he would reach it in time to be able to protect himself.

  And he didn't know what Luka had intended to do with the dagger, after all.

  The Healer collapsed against Ahlos, his hands smeared with Edward's blood, his eyes squeezed closed, his teeth chattering. He did not speak or protest when Ahlos lowered him to the ground and turned towards Edward.

  "When they brought him here, he was drugged almost out of his mind," he said, and moved with surprising grace to pick up the dagger. "I had hoped he could heal you before he lost himself again. When he's lucid--"

  "I can hear you," Luka whispered.

  Ahlos ignored him and handed the dagger to Edward, hilt first. "I am Ahlos." His voice had not improved, but had his appearance altered a bit while he stood there? "You've met Oriellen's hounds."

  "I killed one of them," Edward said, and laid the dagger across his legs. "What would help him?" He thought he knew--both Luka and Elinor were half-vampires, after all, and perhaps blood was the only real cure for whatever drug they had given him.

  "You killed one of them?" Ahlos whispered, and shook his head, just as Luka murmured something Edward didn't catch.

  "Yes."

  "And she let you live?" Ahlos seemed more surprised by that than the fact that he had managed to kill a hound.

  "She--she recognized me," Edward said, and wondered how much he should tell them. A half-crazed Healer and a hound, even one such as Ahlos, seemed odd allies, if they could be called allies at all. "Are you bound to her?"

  Ahlos laughed. "Of course I am bound to her. If I were not, she would be dead. As it stands, I am trapped like this and she remains alive."

  "He...he means--" Luka's voice cracked. "He means--" He shuddered all over, and curled up into a ball on the floor, hiding his face in his hands.

  "I know what he means," Ahlos said. "She could truthspell either of us--save, perhaps, for you--and force us to speak."

  "A century ago, Oriellen cursed me with the form of a wolf, save for the night of the full moon," Edward said. "I was a wolf when she had her hounds attack."

  "Yet you are not one now," Ahlos said. "Why not?"

  "She forced me to shift shape," Edward said. He had not considered that she might have broken his curse, but he felt no inclination to shift shape now, even though he knew it was past the full moon.

  "What is your name?" Luka asked. He had straightened up a bit, but his muscles still quivered, as if he was on the verge of a seizure. His eyes, once as brilliant as Elinor's, were glassy and dull, and a thin trickle of blood ran from a bitten lip.

  "My name is Edward," Edward said. "What can I do to help you?"

  Luka shook his head. "N...nothing. It w-will pass. I--" He stiffened, then, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  Ahlos barely managed to catch him before he fell. "You'll have to wait until he wakes up before he can finish healing you," he said. "Use the dagger if you need to."

  "Isn't there a way to lure someone down here for him?" Edward asked. "Where is here, anyway?"

  "You are in Faerie, in the cellars beneath Oriellen's dungeons," Ahlos said. "To lure someone down here would give away the fact that the dungeon's doors cannot be locked, and there is only one way out."

  "Heavily guarded?" Edward asked, and drew a spiral in the dirt that covered the stone floor.

  "Of course," Ahlos said.

  "Are there others here?" Edward asked, remembering their conversation about the 'last one'.

  "No." Ahlos didn't seem inclined to elaborate.

  "If he stays down here, he will die," Edward said softly. "Wouldn't it be better to risk--"

  "No," Ahlos growled, and touched the iron collar around his neck. "I cannot fight her. I cannot fight her will. Th
is--thing around my neck ensures that I will be forced to obey whatever she demands. And she will demand his death."

  "Despite the fact that he's a Healer?" Edward asked.

  "He does not belong to the network of Healers," Ahlos said. "If she had known that before, I don't think she would have defended his life so vehemently."

  Edward closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He wanted to sleep; to wake up and find that this was a terrible dream, but the throbbing pain from the ghost of his wounds and his leg would not let him rest. "And what if you manage to unlock--"

  "Oriellen holds the only key," Ahlos snapped. "Do not tempt me with false hopes."

  "Rose knows a spell to unlock locks," Edward whispered, his eyes still closed. Despite the pain; despite the fact that he knew he should stay awake, he felt himself drifting away.

  "Who is Rose?" Ahlos asked.

  With a tremendous effort, Edward opened his eyes. "A former wizard's dog," he said. "Her master taught her a spell."

  "A dog learned a human spell?" Ahlos asked, his voice disbelieving.

  "She's a very smart dog," Edward said. He shifted a bit in place, trying his best to sit up straighter so he wouldn't fall asleep.

  "And do you know this spell?" Ahlos asked with ill-concealed impatience.

  "She showed me," Edward said. "But I don't know if I have enough strength to cast it." He raised his arm and felt the new scar tissue and repaired muscle stretch. "Bend down."

  Ahlos bent, his misshapen face emotionless; his eyes flat and cold. Edward touched the collar around his neck, felt the hatred that had placed it there, and pulled strength from the stones beneath him; the very bedrock of the castle itself. It was almost second nature to do so; he'd anchored his wards in stone, after all, and the rock in Faerie did not fight his touch.

  In fact, it rumbled as he cast Rose's spell, and Edward felt a surge of something; some sort of energy, rise up out of the stone beneath him and spill across his connection with Ahlos.

  The collar sprang open, and Ahlos stepped away, his form shifting as soon as he was free, until an elf stood there--with no sign of the creature he was--in front of Edward, both hands around his own throat as if to convince himself that the collar was truly gone.