Immortal Moon

by June Stevens

  “You look just lovely, my dear,” the shopkeeper said.

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you like it?” I asked.

  She looked at me, her smile wide. “I do. I think you were right. I do need to have more pretty things in my life.”

  “Good to see someone listens to me,” I said. Then I looked at the shopkeeper. “We’ll take it. My treat.”

  “Oh, no, that’s okay. I have money,” Farrah said.

  “Yes, you do. But I know how much Pinky pays you, and you’d blow half a week’s pay on that scarf. As for me, I won an obscene amount of money on a fight I was in last week. Pinky won’t let me spend fight winnings on household things, and I already have way too many clothes. So, you are going to let me treat you today, and not just the scarf.”

  “Um, okay, I guess,” Farrah stammered, a little unsure of herself.

  She was trying to be independent, I understood that. But I also knew that no one had been nice to her, really nice to her with no expectations of return, in a long time. If ever.

  “That wasn’t me asking for your permission, Farrah. That was me giving you a statement of fact,” I told her with a wink.

  She smiled and her whole face lit up. “Okay.”

  I paid for the scarf and we moved on to another stall. Watching Farrah rifle through clothes and helping her pick out outfits was more fun than I could have imagined. Within an hour and a half, we had three canvas shopping bags full of clothes and shoes.

  “Ugh,” I said, leaning against a table in an empty merchant’s booth. “It’s almost noon, and I’m starving. Let’s grab some food, go to River’s booth, and eat lunch with her.”

  Farrah looked as tired as I felt. “Sounds like a plan.”

  We grabbed corn fritters and lemonade at a vendor near River’s stall and took it over to her. She was sitting on a bench looking bored. “Ah! Food! I may have to name my firstborn after both of you. You know, if I ever have kids. Which really, I probably won’t.”

  “You’re rambling, Rivs,” I said, handing her a paper-wrapped fritter.

  “I know, sorry. It’s just been kind of slow today so I’ve had no one to talk to, and I was getting hungry, but I didn’t want to leave the stand unmanned because there were a couple of kids earlier that stole some apples.”

  “So you wanted to stay and protect the stand?” Farrah asked.

  I laughed. “No, she stayed so that if they came back she could give them each a full basket of food.”

  The pale skin of River’s cheeks turned bright pink. “What can I say, I’m a softy.”

  “You should have called a guard when they swiped the apples,” I told her, knowing it was a futile statement.

  “They were probably starving.”

  “Or they were little hoodlums in the making.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I have an open door policy, and you know it. If they need or want food from my stall, they get it. No questions asked.” Her tone brooked no more arguments.

  That was something I loved about River. She had a soft heart, but if you tried to step on her right to be soft-hearted, she’d show you just how tough she was. And really, her policy had never steered her wrong. Her vegetable and herb stall brought in almost as much money as the pub. She gave away a lot of food, but more often than not, people who she gave food to either brought her money later when they had it, or brought her other goods or trinkets that they had made in trade.

  “Sorry, Rivs,” I said.

  “It’s okay. So, looks like you two have had a lot of fun,” she said, motioning to our over full bags.

  “Yeah, I let Anya buy me way too much stuff,” Farrah said, her cheeks now turning the same color River’s had.

  “As if you had any choice,” I said, laughing. “Besides, you have no idea how much fun it is to shop with someone who actually likes clothes after growing up with my two sisters.”

  River laughed. “Hey, I’m paying for everything on your next shopping spree if it’ll keep her from dragging me along.”

  Farrah laughed.

  We ate, chatted, and laughed for almost an hour, only pausing for the occasional customer. It was the first time the three of us had spent any quality time together. It wasn’t the same as having Fiona there, but I was really starting to like Farrah. And I could see her coming out of her shell a little.

  “I hate to break up the fun, but I need to get back. I have a hot date tonight,” I said. Jarrett and I were going to have dinner, go dancing, and then spend a long night together on his boat. It was my last night off before his leave was up in two days, and I was determined to spend as much time with him as possible, and most of that naked.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen you get a dreamy look on your face like that before, An,” River said. “Anything we should know about you and Jarrett?”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Nothing that wouldn’t make you blush for a week,” I said, laughing. “I’m just looking forward to a night out on the town and having someone pour me drinks for a change.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Good. You deserve it. Oh, before you go, can you swing by Sarah Jane’s and give her this.” She produced a basket of fruits, vegetables, bread, pouches of herbs, and what looked like a bowl of soup. “She’s out sick, that’s why I had to work here today.”

  “Sure, I know where she lives. It won’t be a problem.”

  “Thank you,” River said, hugging Farrah and me in turn. “I’ll see you later.”

  Farrah and I crossed the bridge, and I led her down a back alley into the slums. River’s shop assistant, Sarah Jane, was an orphan norm girl of about sixteen. She had come to work for River just a couple of months ago after her mother died. Her mother had been a seamstress with her own very popular stall at the market. She’d left a little bit of money for Sarah Jane and despite its location in the slums, their small house was sturdy.

  I had Farrah wait outside while I went inside, in case Sarah Jane was contagious. She was very obviously ill, but didn’t seem to have a fever. Knowing she didn’t have anyone to watch out for her, I gave her my scry-crystal so she could call River for help if she needed it. Norms usually didn’t carry porta-scrys because they couldn’t always use them. Fiona had mine charged with extra strong spells by the Blade Chargers so that I could activate it anytime. Sarah Jane protested, but I told her she could give it back to me when she was well.

  After leaving Sarah Jane’s, Farrah and I headed back to Pinky’s where I was going to meet Jarrett in just a few hours. We were absorbed in conversation, talking about the purchases we’d made, and I didn’t notice the two men walking behind us until two others stepped out from behind a building, blocking our path. Wordlessly, Farrah and I turned in time to see the two men only a few feet behind us. We were in a narrow path between two buildings. There were no windows and no doors. The only way out was through the men.

  “Excuse me,” I said, knowing it was futile, but trying anyway.

  One of the men laughed, the sound chilling my blood.

  “Come with us nice and easy, honey, and we’ll leave the blonde lass unharmed,” said a man with thick arms and dark hair.

  “How about you let us pass and I’ll leave you unharmed,” I countered. To Farrah, I whispered, “You fight with everything you got.”

  She looked me in the eye, her gaze hard, and she gave a nod. I knew she wouldn’t crumple into a hysterical mess. We may have little chance of getting out of this predicament, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Neither would I.

  “Get them,” the dark haired man ordered the other three.

  Farrah and I stood back-to-back, and as the men closed in, Farrah’s hand went up. A loose brick that had been lying on the side of the road began to hover in the air. The four men stopped moving, watching the brick. Using the distraction, I plunged forward kicking the man nearest to me in the stomach.

  The next few minutes, or perhaps only seconds, passed in a blur. I was fighting off two of them but every time I knocked one down, the o
ther was there, getting a blow in. Every now and then, I would catch a glimpse of Farrah. She was levitating anything she could get her hands on to throw at them, which was mostly dirt and rocks. It was keeping them at bay. She was also screaming her head off, trying to catch the attention of someone passing by, but no one came.

  I finally had both men on the ground at the same time and was turning to help Farrah when I realized she wasn’t screaming. I whirled to see her lying on the ground, one of the men standing over her. Her eyes were open, and I could see her eyelids blinking, but she wasn’t moving.

  “What did you do to h…” A sharp pain in my leg cut off my words. I looked down to see a long, thin dart sticking out of my thigh. “What the…?” Darkness surrounded me.

  Jarrett stood back and admired his handy work. The fresh paint gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun. He let out a sigh that expressed both his satisfaction and his disappointment. The wheel house looked nice, but it was the last of the maintenance he had planned for The Minnow before his leave was up. Finishing it brought to mind that he only had two days left.

  The irony of the ‘only’ in that thought wasn’t lost on him. He’d been a Black Blade Guard for almost five centuries, and a Kukri for all but about fifty of those years. Up until this point, he’d had to be forced to take his mandatory two-week leave every six months. And he always took any opportunity possible to go back to work early.

  This was the first time in his long career he was dreading going back to work. It was the first time in his even longer life that he was dreading leaving a woman behind. Two weeks was such a short time to him. Barely a grain of sand in the vampiric hour glass, yet so much had happened in that tiny grain. A whole life time had happened.

  He’d done the most stupid thing he could have possibly done. He’d gone and fallen in love with a norm woman. He felt his lips curve into a smile, just thinking of Anya. As stupid as it had been to get close to her, as much as he knew he would ache for her when he left, he couldn’t regret it. He might have the pain of losing her for decades, perhaps even forever, but he’d have the joy of loving her and the memory of her beautiful face to last him.

  He laughed out loud at the sappy, romantic thread of his thoughts. What he’d always suspected was true. Love turned you into a weeny.

  Amused at himself, he began cleaning up. He only had a few days left with Anya and he was going to make them memorable. Starting with dinner and dancing, and then a long night of creative lovemaking. He was determined to take as many good memories with him as possible, and leave enough that she didn’t forget about him for a while.

  He was cleaning his paint brushes in a bucket of river water when he thought he heard his name. Dropping the brushes into the water, he concentrated, listening closely. Yes, someone was yelling his name. He turned and searched the dock, but it was packed with people. He couldn’t tell where the sound had come from.

  Then he heard it again and looked in time to see a young woman stumble awkwardly through a group of dockworkers. She wasn’t running, but she did seem to be moving as quickly as she could. Her gait was choppy and stumbling, and she swayed from side to side as if she were drunk. She wore dirty, torn pants and her dark blonde hair was hiding her face, but there was something familiar about her.

  “Farrah?” he called out.

  The girl raised her head in his direction. Her face was red and streaked with dirt and tears, but it was definitely Farrah. Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Trying to move faster, she stumbled and fell forward on her hands and knees.

  Jarrett jumped to the pier and ran to her. He knelt beside her. “Farrah, are you okay? What happened?”

  “Anya,” she said, her voice so thick with tears and hysteria he could barely understand her, but there was no mistaking that name.

  His blood ran cold. “What about Anya? What happened? Where is she?”

  Farrah sobbed. “They took her. They told me to give you this and said they would call after sunset.”

  She pressed a porta-scry into his hand, and then fell forward onto the pier as if all the energy had left her body. The only way Jarrett could tell she was conscious was that she was still crying softly.

  Fury and fear raged inside him. Someone had taken Anya, and they’d done it to get to him. It had to be Python. Forcing himself to stay calm, he clicked into professional mode.

  Putting the scry-crystal into his pocket, he pulled his own porta-scry out of the opposite pocket. He flipped it open and pushed energy through.

  When Sam’s face popped up, he didn’t bother with preliminaries. “I’ll be in your office in ten minutes. I need a med-mage and Fiona there. Oh, and you better call Pinky.”

  “What’s going on?” Sam asked.

  “I’m not really sure, but it looks like Anya has been kidnapped. Farrah just showed up at my boat in hysterics. Just get everyone there, please.”

  “Got it,” Sam said, and the connection was severed.

  Jarrett flipped the leather case over the crystal and slipped the scry back in his pocket. Leaning over, he put his hand on the crying girl’s shoulder.

  “Farrah, sweetie,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m going to pick you up now. Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice weak and hoarse.

  Gently, he scooped her up into his arms. He wanted to run like he had the night before when Anya had been hurt and in his arms, but he didn’t dare. He’d known essentially how Anya was hurt, and had been careful not to jar her leg. He had no idea what might have been done to Farrah and didn’t want to risk further injury. He began walking as briskly as he could.

  “Jarrett,” Farrah said, hiccupping. “I’m not hurt. I don’t think I am. They drugged me. I’m crying because I’m mad. They took her and I couldn’t stop them, and I’m really angry.”

  Jarrett looked down at the red, tear-stained face and nearly laughed out loud. He could see the truth of her words reflected in her eyes. She had definitely fallen in with the right family. He didn’t know if she’d been like this before she’d been abducted by Bokor, but after six months living with Pinky and the Moon sisters, she couldn’t be more like them if she’d grown up there.

  “Okay, then. In that case, I’m going to run. Can you hang on tight?”

  “I’m a little weak, but I’ll do my best.”

  He gathered her a little tighter to him and took off. Weaving in and out of the late afternoon crowds, they made it to the headquarters building in just a few minutes. It wasn’t until he was standing in front of the lift he realized he was still in the cutoff shorts and old shirt he’d been painting in. He’d left his ID crystal, along with his weapons and long pants, back on The Minnow.

  “Can you stand?” he asked Farrah.

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  He set her on her feet in the lift, close to the wall so she could lean on it, and pulled his scry out.

  “Sam,” he said when the other man answered. “I’m in the lift, can you give me an override?”

  “Be right there.”

  Less than a minute after the crystal went dark, the lift began to move upwards. Sam and a healer—Jarrett was glad to see it wasn’t the one who had treated Anya—met them when the lift doors opened.

  “I’ve got her,” Jarrett said, and carried Farrah into Sam’s office.

  The healer was examining her when Fiona and Pinky arrived. Pinky immediately rushed to her side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  He didn’t ask about Anya, and Jarrett assumed Sam hadn’t told them Anya was missing. Before Farrah could answer, Jarrett asked the med-mage, “Is she okay to answer a few questions?”

  “Yes,” the healer said, “But I want to get her across the street to the hospital soon. It will take a while to completely remove the drug from her system, and she will need rest.”

  “Thank you, Healer Ramsey,” Sam said. “Please wait outside for a few minutes, and then we’ll let you take your patient.”

  The healer nodded and left, shutting the do
or behind him.

  The four of them sat, listening intently, as Farrah told them the story of how four men had ambushed them in the slums.

  “We were winning,” she said, a small note of pride evident in her voice. “Anya was really fighting, and I was using my power to throw rocks and dust in their faces. It wasn’t much, but it was working until one of them threw a dart at me. It was the weirdest feeling. I couldn’t feel anything, it was as if my entire body had disappeared. I fell to the ground.”

  “Where was Anya at that moment, Farrah? Do you remember?” Fiona asked.

  “Yeah. She had just knocked down both of her guys and was coming towards me, and then she just fell to the ground. That’s when one of them laid the scry on my stomach and told me I’d get feeling back in my body in half an hour.” She turned and looked at Jarrett. “He said I was to go directly to you, and they would be watching to know if I went to the guards instead. He told me to tell you that someone would contact you on that porta-scry after sundown.”

  “Did you see which way they went with Anya?” Sam asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I was lying on my back and couldn’t move. I know they picked her up, and one of them said to be careful with her or the boss wouldn’t be happy.”

  “That bodes well,” Sam said.

  Fiona walked over and put her hand on Farrah’s shoulder. “You did a good job, sweetie. Come on, I’ll take you out to wait with the healer for a moment, okay?”

  Farrah nodded and let Fiona pull her out of the chair and help her walk out to the hall.

  “What do we do first?” Pinky asked when Fiona was back in the office.

  “You take Farrah to the hospital and wait with her,” Fiona said. “This is her second trauma in six months, she could really use a friendly face.”

  Pinky glared. “No. Not till my little girl is back home.”

  Fiona returned his glare, not budging an inch. “Please, I’m as worried as you are right now, so I don’t want to fight with you. We can’t do much except theorize until Jarrett receives the call. After that, it will all be about strategy. You aren’t trained for this. I promise I’ll keep you updated, but the most helpful thing you can do right now is help keep Farrah and River calm.”