The Valley of Ten Crescents Series (Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Tristan J. Tarwater

  “When she woke up, her eyes were covered in blood,” Tender added, his voice low. “We thought she had a sleep-death on her but she woke up, thank the Goddess.”

  “What was that?” Tavera asked. “How can we protect ourselves against such things?” Tavera remembered the feel of the dream, her fear, Derk’s ragged face and his hands at her throat. The feeling of her chest trying to force her to breathe but being unable to draw breath. The flash of the knife.

  “I unfortunately don’t know much about…I don’t even know what to call it,” Sister Cera said.

  “It’s old workings,” Sister Perla said, leaving the bookshelves to address the small party. “Harking back to the days when many were imbued with Her Power, blessed or cursed, though far fewer were cursed.” Sister Perla paused for a moment. “Those who had the power often bestowed a part of it on objects to relieve themselves of the burden.” The older priestess watched them all, as if trying to gauge their reaction. “It is not common and rarely used. Using Her Power for the means of Valleyfolk is frowned upon by the church. When such items are found, they’re generally confiscated.”

  “What if it’s not the sickle itself?” Gaela asked. “What if it was the man? Or some combination?”

  “Only Wielders can generate power,” Sister Perla said. “The man is no Wielder, I can assure you. If he is a summoner, a pact maker…well, from what I’ve heard, their methods are different, more physical. From the description of the power and from what is known about the cult, it is mystical. They commonly using trances and blood-letting to induce states where they will be closer to their Goddess, the Goddess Bloodied. She who has been avenged upon, who will avenge those who ask. The Goddess Purged, who shall drain all iniquity from those willing to pay the price.”

  “What…what do they want the plate for?” Tender asked.

  “It is for one of their rituals,” Sister Perla said. “Their highest ritual. When the Avatar comes. Their version of the Goddess pours herself into a vessel, to lead them to a new place of power.”

  “Is this going to happen?” Little asked. “Is…this vessel…not the plate?”

  “The plate is needed to perform the ritual,” Sister Perla said. “The vessel is a child born at a certain time.” Tavera thought the sister was leaving something out. She thought back to what she had read in Sister Kella’s journals.

  “Doctrine teaches us the time of flesh and blood believers taking on the mantles of the Goddess is in the past, Herix,” Sister Cera said. “The Goddess in Her power and mercy no longer touches the souls and flesh of Her followers. She gently guides through signs and good teaching.”

  “Well, someone should tell Cy and his lot that,” Tavera said. “I don’t think they’re on the same liturgical calendar as us.”

  “What happens if they think they’ve succeeded?” Tender said. “What if they get their…Avatar?”

  “They mustn’t be allowed to think so, or they will continue to terrorize those who cross their path,” Sister Perla said. “They will abduct more people and recruit them to their cause. The Freewild will become a bloody place. They have grown bold to take Sister Kella and they will grow bolder under a new leader.”

  “Why did they take Sister Kella?” Tavera asked. “Why again?”

  “My guess is because they think she knows where the plate is,” Sister Perla said. “Luckily, you have found it and returned it to where it will be safe.”

  Returned the plate? The plate was in Tavera’s bag.

  “Do you think it could be because Sister Kella had a history with them?” Tavera asked, trying not to sound annoyed. “Maybe they think she should be there for whatever is about to happen. Do you think they consider her one of them? Her and Cy, they have…a history. He came himself to take her.”

  Sister Perla frowned. “Sister Kella does have history with the cult. And she worked closely with Cy. Her experience as a priestess is probably what drew him to her when he first abducted her. Sister Kella may have stayed, thinking her faith and learning would sway Cy over to the right aspect of the Goddess.”

  “I think she stayed there because she had to. She was afraid of them,” Tavera spoke up. She had seen the journals, the expression on Sister Kella’s face. Cy was beyond reasoning with, it was obvious. “I think if the sister had thought she could leave, she would have. And now she’s back there.”

  “We hope you bring her back safely,” Sister Cera said.

  “We intend to,” said Tender.

  “Well,” Tavera said, trying to smile through grit teeth. “We should go to bed. Right? Must be up early in the morning.”

  “Your horses will be packed and ready to go,” Sister Cera said. “Again, thank you for rescuing Sister Kella. We are thankful.”

  Little, Tender and Gaela stood, saying their goodbyes to the priestesses before exiting. Tavera walked close to Tender, looking over her shoulder to make sure the priestesses weren’t following before she spoke.

  “You gave them the bowl?” she asked, trying not to sound angry.

  “Of course I did,” he said, surprised. “I told Cera I had it, she said they should keep it, to be safe. Don’t want to risk it getting to the cultists, do we?”

  “What’re they going to do with it?” Tavera asked.

  “Probably lock it up somewhere. Maybe sent it to Whitfield, I imagine.”

  “If they took it to Whitfield, that’s the first place the cultists would try to get it. It’s too predictable,” Little said. “They’d probably send it to another temple. A small one.”

  Tavera placed her hand on the handrail and glared up at Tender. “The bowl was in my saddlebag. You’d no right to give it.”

  “The bowl isn’t yours. The saddlebags were borrowed from one of the people in Whitend,” Tender reasoned. “And what’re you to do with it anyway? It’s better the church has it.”

  “Tender, speak with me outside, please?” she said. Tender just looked at her and then back to Little before Little and Gaela stepped to the side, giving them space to leave. Tavera went first, her heart thumping in her chest, her mind going over the details of the last meeting. They walked through the temple and through the side door, into the alley. Cool night air poured over her, the smell of another rain lilting on the breeze.

  “Don’t go through my bags,” she said. “Just…don’t. If my things are in them, don’t look through them. If you want something, ask first. I think we should get that out of the way.”

  “Alright,” Tender said. “Fair enough. In return, if you ever need anything from my bags, feel free to help yourself,” he answered with a bit of a bow, trying to seem gracious.

  “Secondly,” Tavera said, ignoring the gesture. “Why did you give it to them? Without telling anyone?”

  “You were out getting the map,” Tender said. “We don’t need the plate. The church will keep it safe.”

  “If the church can keep it safe, why did they have it hidden with Kella?” Tavera asked.

  “Maybe because she….” Tender’s voice trailed off. “Because they didn’t know she had it?”

  “Do you actually believe that? That she somehow smuggled it out of the cultists’ temple, without her rescuers or the church finding it?” Tavera said flatly, rolling her eyes at Tender. “Kella had it because it was the last place the cultists would ever think to look.” She waited for Tender to look at her. Instead he just stared at the floor, his previous smile fading with her words. “A temple basement, an archive, those are where they usually keep those sort of things. Not the run-down shacks of the worn-down priestesses who had to deal with them, in the Freewild. Yes, I know you’ve only been in the Freewild just since spring’s start,” she sighed, seeing Tender about to bring it up.

  “But,” Tender said finally. He sat down on one of the crates, hands together. He looked confused, the lamplight shining on his face. “This plate Kella held. It couldn’t have possibly done her…any sort of good,” he said, looking to Tavera. “Point, the pictures in her journal, what s
he must have gone through. To have a constant reminder of it in one’s home, knowing who wants it. Why?”

  Tavera sat down next to him, trying to puzzle it out. She thought back to the journals, the pictures of the other priestesses that filled the pages in the entries after her rescue. They must have rehabilitated her, retrained her in some way. “My guess?” Tavera said. “Maybe they thought it did her some good. All the time she had it, she could have gone to Cy and his lot and just handed it over and done all this again. But she didn’t. Maybe knowing she didn’t gave her something. Or,” Tavera continued, not wanting to bring up the less hopeful possibility but feeling the need to. “Perhaps they were testing her. To make sure she wouldn’t hand it over.”

  “She didn’t,” Tender said. “She never did.” He sighed. “She had it this whole time and never told anyone.”

  “She kept her fear hidden,” Tavera said with a shrug. “We give our fears to the Goddess.”

  “I’m afraid to do this,” Tender said. He said it quietly, so quietly, staring ahead at the ground. “I’m afraid, Point. I…one of us might get hurt. Or killed. Or all of us.”

  “Some of us are already hurting,” Tavera said. “And you don’t only feel fear. You feel…anger, Tender. You feel…worry, for Kella. And us, who’re going with you. You feel excitement, at the thought of succeeding. And zeal.” Tender raised his head, the brave look he showed so readily back in his hometown starting to appear in his eyes once more. “You know it’s wrong, what they’ve done. A crime against Kella and Our Lady. I heard what you yelled at Cy and I know the thought of them worshiping Our Goddess in this way, it disgusts you. You know the Goddess is good and full of mercy. Protecting, not causing harm.”

  Tender pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his shins, leaning his head back against the temple wall so he was staring up at the sky. Tavera sighed and put her hand on his face, offering him a smile. “Fear is natural, Tender. It ain’t weakness. She don’t laugh at our fears. She helps us through them.” Tavera felt the heat of his skin on hers, the look in his eyes as he waited. She brushed his hair out of his face before mussing it a bit. He smiled at her, which was what she wanted. Tavera hopped off the crate.

  “You going to bed?” Tender asked.

  “Nah,” Tavera said. “I’ve got to get the plate back,” she said. Tender blinked and frowned, Tavera turning to head inside the temple.

  “What?” Tender said. Tavera heard him hop off the crate and chase after her. “You’re joking, right? You’re not going to steal it.”

  “I’m getting it back,” Tavera said. “We need it.”

  “Why?” Tender said in a harsh whisper. Tavera laughed at the guilty look on his face.

  “We need it,” Tavera said. “Cy laid it out very clearly, don’t you recall? If we’ve no plate, we won’t get Kella.”

  “But then they’ll have it!” Tender exclaimed. “They can’t have it! Sister Perla said!”

  “And the map maker said we need to get Sister Kella back from them at any cost.” Tavera turned around and faced Tender, looking him in the eye. “Would you leave her to them for a plate? Could you?”

  “It’s not just any plate, it’s--”

  “It’s a piece of metal!” Tavera said. She looked around, realizing how close they were to the temple and hoping no one was listening. “It’s well worked, it’s pretty, people think it’s important but it’s a thing. It’s not alive. Sister Kella still is.”

  “But Sister Perla said if the cultists have it, they can cause trouble with it. They need it for their ritual and if they succeed--”

  “Do you think the Goddess will allow them to sully Her land with their stupid notions?” Tavera said. “That man will kill Sister Kella, I believe it. I know you believe it. And if they start trying to pick up people in the Freewild, people will avoid the area or send them packing.”

  “But--”

  “I’ll steal it back,” Tavera said. Now Tender stopped talking. “We’ll trade them the plate for Kella. Then we’ll follow them back to their temple, sneak in and get it back.” She turned and started to head toward the temple, her face feeling warm. “It’s easier to smuggle a thing than a person. If you feel like hitting anyone on the head on the way out of their stupid temple, be my guest.”

  “But stealing is wrong!” Tender whispered.

  “Kidnapping people and torturing them is more wrong,” Tavera shot, turning to face him. Her words hit Tender so he winced. Tavera sighed, knowing he wouldn’t argue anymore “Now, unless you have a plan which don’t involve getting the plate back, I’d appreciate you telling me where it is and then, maybe…I don’t know, distracting the priestesses. That’d be good.”

  “I’ll…I’ll see what I can do.” Tavera and Tender regarded each other for a few breaths. Something in the way he said it told Tavera he’d do it. Tavera smiled and started to turn away. Tender grabbed hold of her arm. “It’s in the High Priestess’ room,” he whispered.

  “Oh,” Tavera said, trying not to sound concerned. Her room? “Okay. I’ll get it then, before she even notices it’s gone. Easy, considering she isn’t even here.” She slipped into the shadows of the temple, leaving Tender with a worried expression on his face.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Getting A Hold

  Tavera tried to remember the looming structure of the temple grounds. The main temple faced east, as all temples did. Behind it was the courtyard, where she stood now. Stables were to the south, living quarters to the west, workrooms and storerooms to the north, as well as a garden. The temple had multiple entrances, as was custom, with the back entrance the quickest way to the basement where they were staying.

  The priestesses, including the High Priestess, were housed in a different building altogether. There were rooms in the upper floors of the temple but these were used for group studies, smaller services and counseling. Each priestess would have a bed and trunk in the house to the west, toward the setting moon.

  Tavera stood before this building. The High Priestess’ room would be on the top floor. She’d have the biggest room. From the street, it would probably have a large, round window. On this side it had several smaller windows. Were they locked? Tavera sniffled, feeling the rain on the wind.

  The shadows stretched through the courtyard. Tavera drew closer to the building while trying to watch her feet. Could the building be scaled? It was at least five men high and she’d heard terrible and hilarious stories of people trying to sneak up and down from the tops of buildings, only to be discovered in laughable or less-than-alive situations. She looked down at her boots. Not the best for climbing. Lights still shone in several of the windows. Tavera grit her teeth and walked around the building to the front.

  “Is Sister Cera in?” Tavera asked the priestess at the door, an older woman whose hair was completely covered by her headscarf, neatly tucked in even at this time of evening. The older priestess smiled at her.

  “You’re with Tender, aren’t you?” she asked. “Surprised you’re not at the prayer he called for you all.”

  “They’re for the Goddess’ ears, not mine,” Tavera said, bringing a smile to the woman’s face. “So,” Tavera continued. “Is Sister Cera here? I was hoping to speak to her about a…personal matter.”

  “I think she would be at the prayer,” the priestess said. “You can go up and wait for her, if you like.”

  “Thank you, I think I will,” Tavera smiled. “Which room is hers?”

  “Second floor, third down on the left,” the priestess said. “Her room should be open.”

  “Thanks,” Tavera said, hoping the priestess’ words indicated all the doors were open. It was one of the nice things about temples, Tavera thought to herself as she clipped up the stairs, her boots skidding across the wood. People didn’t steal from priestesses, so no one watched for people to steal from them. Temples were occasionally broken into and Tavera knew church libraries were sometimes taken from but for most Valleyfolk, temples were off limits. Tavera
told herself she wasn’t stealing from the temple, just replacing an item they needed for the trip without bothering anyone. Sister Perla would probably be against her plan, decent as it was. But Sister Perla was a priestess. Tavera was Tavera. It was the sister’s job to worry about holy matters and artifacts. It was Tavera’s to sort this out with the least amount of bloodshed possible.

  Tavera reached the door and stood there for a moment, making sure none of the doors she had passed were opened. Only the crackle of oil lamps could be heard in the hall, dark wood inlaid with white stone spanning before her. Tavera counted the doors on the floor. Five on each side. Ten rooms, half of the rooms probably being doubles. How many priestesses had Tavera counted milling about the temple complex? Fifteen sounded about right, including the woman at the door and the absent High Priestess. Tavera smelled cakes and berries being fried, meaning those priestesses were probably fixing a late supper for weary travelers or getting a head start on tomorrow’s breakfast.

  The stairs for the third floor were right by the other landing, and Tavera walked back the way she had come, quietly, listening for the priestess downstairs or anyone approaching. Boards under her feet bent but didn’t creak as she stepped lightly up the stairs, reaching the third floor. A window at the far end of the hall let in a bit of light, lacy curtains billowing as the moonglow spilled across the floor.

  Tavera saw one wall with two doors, one door on the opposite wall. Tavera thought this would be the High Priestess’ room. She listened, satisfied with the lack of sound on the floor. As she crept towards her target she pulled her lock-picking tools out of sleeve, feeling their thin, cold familiarity. Boards creaking here didn’t bother her as much. The woman downstairs probably wouldn’t hear them, or would maybe think it was the building settling down for the night. Tavera wrapped her hand around the doorknob and tried it, finding it unyielding. Locked? She smirked.

  With a look over her shoulder which was more force of habit than anything else, Tavera knelt and inserted the lock picks, wiggling them up and down to feel the pins in the cylinder yield to the metal fingers. Tavera listened and tried to feel it out, turning and hearing the lock give with a satisfying ‘pop.’ A grin spread across her face and she gave another glance down the hallway before she pushed the door open and slipped into the room.