Crystal Moon

by Elysa Hendricks

  decision. The burden of being a Rul, though a disposed one, lay

  heavy on Kyne’s shoulders. Would that he could pass this choice

  to another. No. The woman’s fate belonged to no other.

  He shook his head. “How can I waver in this? When she

  put pen to paper asking Aubin to meet her, then betrayed him to

  her father, she signed her own death warrant. Nothing she does

  now can change what went before. I will use her to lure her

  father from the safety of his fortress. They will stand trial for

  their crimes and die together.” The words tasted bitter. How

  much more so would be the act?

  The weight of Graham’s hand on his shoulder gave Kyne

  little comfort. “I don’t envy you your duty, my friend. But

  don’t be too quick to jump to judgement. Things are often not

  as they might first seem. If evil can disguise itself as innocence,

  perhaps innocence can be hidden by evil.

  “Je’al left after sunrise. It will be at least five days before

  we can expect DiSanti’s response. What will you do with her if

  he refuses the bait and abandons her?”

  What would he do? Nothing was clear anymore.

  “I wish I knew.”

  SIX

  Familiar, pungent scents surrounded Sianna as she carefully

  inventoried Althea’s dwindling store of herbs and medicines.

  Warda, his sensitive nose repelled by the strong odors, lay just

  outside the door to the castle’s herb room. Supplies ran

  desperately low.

  Alt root, used to relieve pain and swelling, was nearly gone,

  and only a handful of dried maca leaves for poultices remained.

  Other less critical herbs and medicines were depleted. Too old

  and kept too busy, Althea no longer scoured the mountainside

  and valley for her medicines, but instead made do with what

  was at hand. Sianna needed to restock or risk their patients’

  lives.

  This morning was perfect. The remaining sick and injured

  didn’t require her attention, and the weather was clear. Her

  decision to gather herbs made, she wasted no time. As she had

  no intention of fleeing, her promise not to leave the castle seemed

  irrelevant. Taking only a large cloth bag, a small knife and a

  digging tool, she headed out of the castle.

  Little note was made of her passing. People came and

  went throughout the day, going into the valley below to harvest

  what few crops they had managed to plant or to the woods to

  hunt. The gatekeeper waved her through with a smile.

  Despite the cool mountain air, the sun beat warm on her

  head and shoulders. Redolent of moist earth and pine, the crisp

  air cleared the odor of illness from her lungs. Like a minstrel’s

  multi-hued cloak, red, gold and brown foliage covered the

  mountainside, warning of the coming winter, but this day summer

  still held sway.

  Eyes alert, nose twitching, Warda ranged ahead, then

  behind, but ever vigilant, he never strayed far from her side.

  “We won’t find what we need following this well-worn

  trail. Come along,” she told the hound and cut across the open

  meadow surrounding the castle toward the steeper slopes. “Alt

  root prefers the higher reaches, just above the tree line, while

  maca trees favor the damp soil along streams. Perhaps we’ll

  find a patch of nika. If I’m careful, I might be able to dig some

  roots.”

  As if in response to her words, Warda lowered his head

  and growled.

  “Yes, I know how your master feels about nika, but don’t

  let his prejudices blind you to the plant’s benefits. Nika root is

  so much better for pain reduction than alt. Still, I doubt I’ll find

  a patch at this elevation, so don’t worry.”

  Though she knew the hound didn’t understand her words,

  she felt better for speaking them.

  Throughout the day she searched and gathered, her bag

  growing heavier. With only bird song and the breeze rustling

  through the trees to disturb the quiet, peace settled over Sianna.

  Engrossed in this well known and restful task, she moved up

  and over the next ridge, out of sight of the castle. In the shade

  of a towering maca tree, Warda kept watch while she worked.

  His presence reminded her of his enigmatic master—Rul Cathor.

  Pulling the last stubborn alt root from the ground, she leaned

  back on her heels and wiped the sweat from her face, leaving

  a moist brown streak.

  “Why can’t I read your master’s emotions?” she asked

  the hound. “Being near him makes me feel safe and warm, yet

  I know he despises me for being my father’s daughter. If he

  knew I’m not Laila, would he still hate me? Can what he believes

  of my father be true? I came home with so many hopes. If I

  thought Father sought to marry me to Prince Timon for my best

  interest, I would do so despite my doubts. But I fear Kyne may

  be right. My father thinks only of his needs. To my father I’m

  nothing more than a tool to further his own ends. Now I’ve

  become Kyne’s tool to use against him.”

  The Sisters of Light had loved and valued her for her

  contribution to their valetudinarian. Her father valued her for

  the power he could gain through her marriage. Kyne valued

  her as a way to exact vengeance. Would anyone ever value

  her as the person she was?

  Pain lanced across her shoulders as she stretched to remove

  the kinks from her back.

  Warda whined and nudged her. Only then did she notice

  the lengthening shadows. Her stomach reminded her she hadn’t

  stopped for mid-meal before leaving the castle, and the time

  for last meal approached rapidly.

  “I believe we should head home,” she told Warda. “Home.

  I like the sound of the word. Already the castle feels like home.

  The people, Zoa—Betha, and the others—welcome me as

  though I belong. Even Althea, quiet as she is, makes me feel

  wanted and needed. Would that my father had received me so.

  Laila welcomed me, but we had so little time to know each

  other.”

  Only Katya’s hostile attitude and Graham’s wary looks

  disturbed Sianna’s contentment, reminding her of her precarious

  situation. Her silent deception. She refused to consider what

  Kyne made her feel. What she wanted from him. Though selfish,

  she wished things could go on as they were forever.

  She looked around in confusion. Concentrating on locating

  the roots and herbs, she had paid little attention to where she

  wandered. The land around her looked unfamiliar. “I think we’re

  lost.” A shiver of apprehension coursed through her.

  Warda jumped to his feet and started away. With a relieved

  laugh, Sianna rose and followed. Of course, the hound would

  know the way.

  Pleased with her haul, she followed Warda, eager for

  Betha’s cooking and a soft bed. Bed. Her steps faltered. Last

  night after her bath, despite her exhaustion, she lay awake for

  hours waiting for Kyne to return to his chamber, but he never

  came. When she woke, only the rumpled covers gave any

/>   indication he’d lain beside her. Would he join her this night?

  What would he expect of her?

  Though innocent, Sianna’s work in the valetudinarian gave

  her knowledge of what went on between men and women.

  The thought of sharing her body with Kyne did not make her

  tremble in fear.

  Foolishness, she chided herself. Kyne hated who he thought

  she was. Why would he want to join his flesh with hers?

  At first the low rumble she heard sounded like distant

  thunder, but the sky with its streaks of pink and purple held no

  storm clouds. She stopped and listened. The ground vibrated

  beneath her feet.

  Warda gave a booming bark.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ahead, the trail curved through the trees. Sianna stood

  frozen as three quinar rounded the bend and barreled toward

  her. At the last moment, the animals slid to a stop in front of her,

  throwing up dust and bits of earth. She clutched her bag and

  cringed.

  “There she is!”

  Though she could see little through her watering eyes,

  Sianna recognized Katya’s caustic voice and the jumbled, hostile

  emotions emanating from the young woman.

  “I told you she’d try to escape, Kyne,” Katya continued.

  “Escape?” Sianna held up her bag. “I wasn’t trying to

  escape. I was collecting herbs.”

  Katya snorted her disbelief, her glare promising retribution.

  Infected by her mood, her quinar pranced restlessly beneath

  her.

  Kyne moved his quinar between Sianna and Katya in an

  unconsciously protective gesture. “You and Graham head back,

  I’ll bring the woman. She’ll not escape me.”

  His exasperated tone cut at Sianna’s pride. “I’m not so

  witless as to attempt to flee through unfamiliar mountains.”

  The three ignored her protest.

  Graham laughed. “Think you can handle the fugitive?”

  A balm to her spirit, Graham’s humor eased the bite of

  Katya’s accusation and Kyne’s annoyance.

  “Be gone, old man, before I handle you.” At Graham’s

  gentle teasing, some of the heat left Kyne’s voice.

  “As if you could, pup. We’ll see you back at the castle.

  Mind you don’t lose your way.”

  Graham and Katya turned their mounts and rode away,

  leaving Sianna to face Kyne. He dismounted and strode

  forward. She reached out to him empathetically, but beyond

  the temper building in his eyes, she sensed nothing. In the

  shadow of the trees she shivered, but not from the cooling air.

  Like a physical presence, fear and anger preceded him.

  He lifted his arm. Refusing to cower or plead, she straightened

  her shoulders and faced him. “Will you kill me now?”

  Surprise flickered across Kyne’s face.

  With a menacing growl, Warda moved in front of her and

  lowered his head. Hackles raised, he crouched, ready to spring.

  “Warda. No.” She gripped the hound’s ruff. No matter

  Kyne’s intent, she couldn’t let the hound harm him.

  Kyne stopped, stared at the hound, then threw back his

  head and laughed, the tension draining from his body. “Even

  you befriend her, Warda.” His laughter faded and he looked at

  her. “Are you a witch, little Daughter of Light, that all succumb

  to your appeal? Zoa and Etam speak of nothing but what Sianna

  says. Betha sings your praises. In only a day, order has come

  to Castle Vareck, and even I must admit it is by your doing.

  What spell have you cast over us?”

  Head high, shoulders back, she faced him. “I am no witch.

  Merely a woman. And I wasn’t trying to escape.”

  “I know. Why are you wandering about? Sardak and big

  cats call this forest home. You would make them a tasty snack.

  Even Warda is no match for a hungry sardak.”

  Sianna shuddered at the thought.

  Kyne’s gaze searched her face, and he trailed his fingertips

  across her cheek. “You have mud on you.”

  A shiver coursed through her body at his tantalizing touch.

  “I didn’t think. The medicinal herbs were running low. I

  only wanted to restock supplies.”

  “You didn’t lie when you claimed to be a healer, did you?”

  He gave her a look of troubled acceptance, as if he could not

  reconcile his beliefs about her with what his eyes told him.

  “I never lie...or I try never to lie,” she amended with a

  flash of guilt.

  His dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then you’re a better

  person than most. Lies come easier than truth to most people.”

  Bitterness laced his voice.

  His words told her someone had hurt him with their lies.

  Her skin still tingling from his touch, she prayed her lie would

  not.

  “Come. It grows dark. We must return to the castle. Next

  time you wish to hunt for herbs, tell me and I’ll arrange for an

  escort.” His voice low and gruff with some emotion she could

  not determine, he held out his hand.

  She hesitated. Unable to sense his emotions, she both feared

  and craved physical contact with this man—her captor, her

  protector. Only through touch would she see into his heart, but

  did she really want to know what lay there? Could she bear the

  pain if she discovered he hated her? Why did she care?

  She paused too long. A spasm of irritation crossed his face.

  He dropped his hand to his side and whirled about. With long,

  angry strides he moved to Hakan’s side and threw himself into

  the saddle. “Don’t dally. Sardak prefer to hunt at night.”

  In stunned disbelief, she watched him ride away. He’d left

  her. Where once she thought the forest a peaceful refuge, now

  the dusky shadows seemed to harbor unseen dangers. Warda

  whined anxiously and trotted forward a few steps before turning

  back to her.

  She stiffened, refusing to falter and allow him to cow her

  with unfounded fear. The forest held no more menace now

  than before. Only his dire warnings darkened the atmosphere

  around her. If his counsel had merit or if he mistrusted her

  intent to return, he would not leave her to find her way back

  alone. Would he? What lay in his heart that she could not see?

  Gripping the hound’s ruff for confidence, she said, “Let’s

  go home, Warda.”

  ***

  Just around the bend, Kyne pulled Hakan to a halt in a

  small clearing and waited. As much as he wished to avoid her

  company, he couldn’t leave the little witch to find her way home

  alone. Worse perils than big cats and sardak faced a lone

  woman. Though his people patrolled the area around the castle

  and guarded the passes, other less honorable men skulked in

  the rough terrain. They wouldn’t hesitate to take what they

  wanted from a woman and leave the rest for the four-legged

  scavengers.

  The thought of Sianna’s slim body used and broken sent a

  surge of fury through him. As Rul he alone must decide her

  fate, not leave it to chance. Until the time came to pass

  judgement, he would keep her safe.

  He leaned forward in eage
r anticipation and looked out

  over the valley, waiting for what would soon come. The setting

  sun cast a warm glow over the clearing and the valley below.

  Like a molten ball of gold crystal, the sun dipped lower. Birds,

  busy settling for the coming night, chirped and sang, a chorus

  of noise. Then it happened. The birds fell silent. A hush

  descended over the mountain. Nature seemed to hold its breath

  as the rays struck the blue crystal cliffs rising behind him.

  “Oh, my,” Sianna gasped in awe.

  Relieved at her presence, he looked down at her.

  Never taking her gaze from the scene spread out in front

  of them, she stepped to his side.

  A soft, blue glow enveloped the mountainside and valley,

  draining the brilliant hues of harvest color, leaving behind a world

  of shimmering azure. In the strange flash of light, trees, plants

  and even rocks became fragile crystal sculptures.

  “I didn’t know anything could be so beautiful.” Eyes

  sparkling with delight, lips parted in a gasp of pleasure, she

  gazed at the scene.

  Her awe loosened the tight knot within him. “Legend has it

  that if you’re pure of heart and follow the last of the blue rays

  of light, you’ll find the mythical land of Andacor hidden deep

  within the mountains.”

  “Andacor?” She turned her gaze to him.

  “When I was a lad, my mother would tell me tales of

  Andacor to lull me to sleep. A land of peace and love, where

  knowledge is sought for its own sake rather than to use against

  others for gain. She even claimed a blood kinship with the

  Andacorians through her mother.” Kyne laughed harshly. “My

  sweet, gentle mother was a fool. There is no such place.”

  “Is it foolish to wish for peace? To desire love? If I were

  pure of heart I would follow the light and count myself fortunate

  to be allowed to search. Whether or not Andacor is a place of

  substance or merely a dream, men should strive to find it.”

  In the blue dusk Sianna appeared ethereal, a delicate figure

  of spun crystal. Hardly a cold, hardhearted woman who calmly

  plotted with her father to murder her lover. Just who was she?

  Sianna, daughter of light, healer? Or Laila, born of the night,

  murderer?

  Desire blossomed in him. He wanted this woman with a

  longing that overcame his self disgust.