Mistress of the Night

CHAPTER 6

Your lies have given the boy confidence," Bolan observed.

Variance turned from watching the tunnel down which Keph and the other cultists had departed. Keph was laughing and joking with the cultists he knew, the ones Jarull had introduced him to. The energy within the young man was raw. He would do something dark that night and call it an honor to Shar. She felt a certain pride.

"Which bothers you more, Bolan?" she asked. "His confidence or my lies?

"His confidence," the alchemist said promptly. "It's unseemly. Shar teaches hopelessness and desperation. 'Never follow hope or turn to success, for such things are doomed. Do not strive to better yourself or plan for the future, for the future shall be bleak.'"

Variance looked down at the squat man and said, "That self-defeating dogma is suitable for devotees, but not for priests. If we didn't seek to better ourselves, of what service would we be to Shar? If we can't hope for success, why bother trying?"

Bolan's face betrayed nothing.

"Your lies, then," he said after a moment.

"If lies truly bother you, you have no business being a priest."

Variance walked back toward the altar Bolan had constructed. For a makeshift temple, his creation was actually respectable. The darkness of Shar was true in him.

"It's not the lies as such that bother me," Bolan said as he stomped after her. "His faith is hollow." "His faith is real, Bolan."

"He spoke no oath. You should at least have allowed me that!" He caught her arm, turned her around, looked her in the eye, and said, "And he cast no spell. That was your doing. I could sense it. He can no more work divine magic than he can arcane."

Variance shrugged. "I wasn't lying when I said his will was strong. With time, maybe he could enter Shar's priesthood. But for now" she gave the stunted man the faintest of smiles" he is unmarked. Keph is with Shar, but not o/Shar. He can do things we can't, yet we have a hold over him."

Bolan bent and scooped up the velvet altar cloth.

"It seems to me," he replied as he folded the cloth, "that you're the one with a hold over him. Keph and Jarull both. Every time I meet with that orc-blood Jarull, all I can see in his eyes is you."

Variance raised an eyebrow. Bolan's mouth twitched, the most expression she had ever seen break through his flawless face. He looked away.

"It is your prerogative, Mother Night," he mumbled.

He laid the cloth on the altar and murmured a prayer to Sharnot magical, simply devotional. When he bowed to the altar, Variance bowed as well.

Bolan straightened and began covering the braziers that had illuminated the ceremony. The smell of dying coals and hot metal filled the air. The darkness in the temple deepened.

"I still think we should have had someone who was truly bound to Shar," he said. "Someone to take Cyrume's place." His stained fingers clenched on the lid of a brazier. "I'd like some time alone in my laboratory with that Selunite monster who killed him."

"His remains were scarcely identifiable when I found him," lied Variance. She folded her hands and added sadly, "Shar will bless himhe died in her service. A shame he wasn't able to complete his mission before the Selunite caught him."

She kept her face as expressionless as Bolan's.

The alchemist nodded and said, "The cultists are saying it was an entire pack that took Cyrume down. His martyrdom grows in the telling."

"The better to inspire others," Variance said.

He returned her nod and turned it into an obeisance. "I thank the day that the Temple of Old Night sent you to me, Variance. Together we'll bring Moonshadow Hall low."

Variance smiled and said, "Thank you, Brother Night."

Bolan lit a candle from the embers of the last brazier before he covered it, then turned toward one of the many patches of deep shadow that cloaked his temple. To human eyes, perhaps, the shadow was impenetrable. Variance, however, saw through it easily enough. Beyond lay the narrow passage that Bolanand Variance as well-used to enter and leave the tunnels. The priest probably thought he had a few more secret exits hidden from her. Variance was willing to allow him that delusion.

She followed him through the shadow and into the passage beyond, walking with surefooted ease where Bolan stumbled by flickering candlelight. If he'd guessed over the tendays since she had arrived in Yhaunn and presented herself to him that her confidence in the darkness was anything more than the blessing of Shar, he said nothing.

As they reached the end of the passage, however, he said, "I think Shar has held her hand over us, Variance. We've been lucky."

"How so?"

"The Selunites must have figured out what Cyrume intended, but they haven't taken any action against us. They didn't even tell the city guard."

Variance froze dead in the passage. Bolan continued on several paces before turning to look back at her.

"Mother Night?" he asked.

Variance forced herself to remain calm.

"You know something you haven't told me," she said.

In spite of her best efforts, her anger must have been clear. Bolan shook his head sharply.

"I only just found out myself, Mother Night!" His voice cracked with poorly concealed fear. "I have a client, a devotee of Selune, who comes to my shop to buy tinctures and medicines for Moonshadow Hall. She gossips, though I'm certain she has no idea who she gossips to. She says the guard interviewed the Selunite werewolf, but the werewolf claimed an alibi. The beast must have taken Cyrume's holy symbol too, because the guard has no idea that he was a Sharran or what he intended to do. Only the Selunites know. And we've been watching for signs of reprisal, but there are none. From what my client says, the Selunites are more concerned with some internal matter than with us." He spread his hands and repeated, "We're lucky. Our own plans can proceed uninterrupted."

Variance bit back a curse.

Bolan must have interpreted her silence as anger, because he quickly added, "I can see if there's anything more we can learn"

"No need," she said. "You're not the only one with a source among the Selunites. I'm meeting mine tonight and he's considerably better placed than a servant devotee. I'll find out what's going on inside Moonshadow Hall."

"While it still stands," said Bolan. He sounded relieved and particularly zealous after having avoided her wrath.

"Of course," replied Variance.

She flicked her fingers and Bolan continued up the passage.

Feena stepped into the receiving room and closed the door.

"She's sleeping," she said.

"Good." Mifano sat at the room's table, in the same seat he had occupied the day before. The silver-haired priest was dressed to go outFeena could smell the scent he wore from across the room.

Velsinore, in contrast, still wore the ceremonial robe she had donned for moonrise. She stood on the far side of the table, arms clasped behind her back.

"What happened, Feena?" she asked.

"I don't know," Feena said. She stepped up to the table and settled her hands on the back of a chair. "Julith says she left Mother Dhauna reading at her desk and went to her own room. She responded to Dhauna's screams just the same as the rest of us. She doesn't know what happened. I don't know what happened."

But she could guess. Dhauna had nodded off over her booksand another dream had come upon her.

Moonmaiden, she prayed silently, what danger could be so dire that you would risk killing a faithful priestess with warnings?

Out loud, she said, "I think she'll be all right in the morning."

Mifano frowned and glanced at Velsinore. Her lips twitched as if in some shared communication. Mifano looked back at Feena.

"We're not that optimistic," he said.

Feena's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Mother Dhauna is going mad, Feena. We all know that. After tonight, I don't think we can deny it any longer."

"She's not mad," Feena replied.

"Then what do you call it?" Velsinore asked. "Tonight, a seizure. Yesterday she hit you in the courtyard." "She didn't mean it."

"But she did hit you. Half the temple saw it," said Velsinore, her face drawing tight. "She's been acting erratically for the last month. Julith has been trying to hide it, but she can't hide everything. Dhauna spends all her time now in her chambers or in the archives. When we do see her, she stares at us like we're up to something. She's paranoid, Feena."

"Maybe she has something to be paranoid about," Feena snapped. "Julith told me youboth of youwere pushing her to step aside."

"She should have stepped aside," growled Mifano. "To me or to Velsinore. Instead…"

He left his words hanging. Feena sucked in her breath.

"Instead she appointed a rough, back-country werewolf as her successor," she finished for him.

"If that isn't a sign of her madness, I don't know what is," Velsinore spat.

Feena ground her teeth.

"Dhauna isn't mad," she repeated.

"Explain her actions then!"

She had promised Dhauna not to tell anyone about the dreams. Feena hung her head.

Velsinore pursed her lips and muttered, "I thought so."

Mifano cleared his throat and said, "Feena, you should know that we've sent to the House of the Moon in Waterdeep for advice. If the high priestess there agrees with us, we'll seek out two othersand Dhauna Myritar will be forced to step aside." He met her eyes. "When she is, her recent decisions will also be questioned."

"And I'll be forced aside as well," said Feena.

"You keep saying you don't want this," Velsinore said. "The night of the full moon, when you first arrived, you couldn't wait to leave again."

There was a hint of cunning in Velsinore's voice. Feena glanced at her sharply, but it was Mifano who completed her suggestion.

"You want to get back to your village, don't you?" he said. "Your loyalty to Mother Dhauna does you credit, but you have to see that she's not herself anymore. You're suffering just like us." He leaned forward. "If you speak out, it will be easier to bring her down gracefully and for you to return home with dignity."

"You want me to betray her?" Feena snarled through clenched teeth.

Mifano waved his hands, palms down.

"No," he said. "We'd never ask that. But you need to take another look at the situation. Dhauna Myritar might truly believe that she's all right, but she can't go on like this. Neither can we. Neither can you." He sat back and added, "We've had nothing but chaos since you returned." -

"You know as well as we do that you're not meant to be a High Moonmistress," added Velsinore.

Maybe Velsinore was trying to be soothing as well. Maybe she had meant the words as an expression of sympathy for Feena's situation. They didn't come out that way. Feena whirled on her.

"Is that what you really think, Velsinore? Is it?" She glared at Mifano and asked, "What about you?"

Neither silver-haired priest nor tall priestess said anything.

"So," hissed Feena after a moment. She stepped back away from the table and spat on the floor. "All right then. Velsinore, you can run the temple and keep the numbers in your accounts. Mifano, you can make nice with the other priests of Yhaunn and carry on your petty seductions in pursuit of donations. I'll be standing by Dhauna when she needs me most."

She turned and flung open the door.

"Feena!" Mifano called.

Feena spun around and snapped her teeth at him.

He jerked away, color draining out of his face. Velsinore flinched and reached for her holy symbol.

Feena could feel the wolf pacing within her. When she looked down at her hands, they were huge and hairy, nails halfway to changing into claws. Her face… she could feel her nose and mouth pushing forward into a muzzle, her skin itching with a fine layer of fur. She bared long teeth at Mifano and Velsinore.

"Am I not blessed of Selune?* she growled awkwardly.

She pushed the wolf away, drawing back her anger, and stalked out of the room as a woman.

Julith was in Dhauna's sitting room, trying to restore the scattered books and scrolls to some kind of order. She looked up as Feena strode in. Like Velsinore and Mifano, she flinched back, but Feena could tell it was only from the violence of her expression.

"Feena," she asked, "what happened?"

"I had another talk with Mifano and Velsinore," Feena explained as she walked to the window and looked out over the courtyard. High overhead, the moon was fading toward a crescent. Feena raised her chin. "I need your help, Julith. You know things about Moonshadow Hall, about Yhaunn. What you did yesterday, coaching me into intimidating Colle and Manas…"

She turned back to the room. Julith was staring at her, an unraveled scroll clutched in her arms and a puzzled look on her face.

"Could you do it again?" Feena asked. "Could you show me how to be a proper high priestess?"

The Stiltways seemed especially lively that night-blazing with light and color, roaring with noise, and fiery with excitement. Or maybe, Keph thought, it was all just him.

Real or imagined, the night felt good around him.

The elation of the ceremony, of drawing on Shar's power and channeling it into magic, still surged inside him. It felt like the night was a wave, carrying him along, or a great dark heart, driving his pulse. It felt as if there was nothing he couldn't do. He was invulnerable!

Keph swung his arms around the shoulders of Talisk and Starne, two of the Sharrans Jarull had first introduced him to. A third, Baret, swaggered along behind them. A few days before, the cultists' names had slid right out of Keph's headthey were Jarull's friends, not his. Since the ceremony, though, it seemed as if he'd known the three forever and they were his friends, too. They were close in age to Jarull and him, and moved in similar circles. Keph wondered if he'd seen them before at parties or at the Sky's Mantle. Why had they never met before?

Maybe because Strasus had kept him too tightly under his thumb?

That wasn't going to happen again. Hail to the Mistress of the Night, he thought.

"Will it be the Mantle or Cutter's Dip, boys?" he shouted over the noise of the street.

"Mantle!" roared Starne.

"Cutter's Dip!" yelled Talisk.

Keph twisted to look back at Baret.

"Mantle!" said the third man.

"Mantle it is!" Keph replied.

He planted his feet and hauled Talisk around so they all turned a corner toward a staircase that led to the highest level of the Stiltways.

Just coming down the staircase were Lyraene and her friends.

She hadn't seen them.

An idea burst into Keph's head. He leaped back, dragging Talisk and Starne with him. Baret only barely managed to jump away from the tangle of cursing bodies.

"Dark!" he spat. "What are you doing, Keph?"

Keph pulled himself free. "There's going to be a half-elf woman coming around the corner in a moment," he hissed. "You three scatter, but follow my lead." He clenched his fist. "I want to give Shar proper homage on the night of my initiation."

The three man glanced at each other then ducked away. Keph ground his teeth together and stepped around the corner.

Lyraene was only steps away. Her hand darted to her sword at his sudden appearanceand stayed there when she recognized him.

"Keph!" she snarled.

"Did you miss me, Lyraene?" Keph asked. He kept his hand close to Quick, but not on her hilt. Lyraene's friends had their eyes on him, but the half-elf s gaze was darting around suspiciously. "Looking for Jarull?" he asked her. "Don't waste your time. He isn't here."

"That's what I thought last time," she grunted. She focused on him again. "We've got unfinished business."

"Just what I was thinking." He flicked the fingers of his left hand, gesturing her to him. "You and me. You know about Quick. I know about your tricks. What do you thinka duel?"

He could tell that she was considering it, trying to guess if he was hiding something.

"Bring your friends if you're worried," he suggested.

There were four of themtwo men and two women. Talisk, Baret, and Starne would be able to handle them if they tried anything.

Lyraene's eyes narrowed, but she nodded and said, "Where?"

"Fanter's swaybridge," Keph said.

Her eyes narrowed even more, but then relaxed. "Now?"

Keph spread his arms wide and said, "There's no better time."

He spun around, boldly presenting his back to her, and started walking.

Fanter's was a tailor shop out near the edge of the Stiltways and up on the fourth level, a quiet and respectable area. Relatively few people went that way after dark. The swaybridge was a railed platform suspended from beams above and tied off to walkways at either end. No strangers would interrupt them and no allies could interfere without being spotted on the empty bridge. If either of them tried to run, there would be no escape in two directions. It was a long way down to the street from the sides of the bridge. Fanter's had also spent good coin having spells of light cast on the posts of the bridgethey burned with a cold, eternal flame. Keph and Lyraene would have good lighting for their fight, but anyone watching would be blind to whatever happened in the deeper shadows around them.

As Keph stepped onto the swaybridge, Baret peered out quickly from a hiding spot near its far end. His hand flashed in the flickering, magical firelighttwo fingers, pointing back the way Keph had come. Talisk and Starne would be hiding behind Lyraene and her friends. Keph gave no reaction, but just walked out to the middle of the bridge and turned. A moment later, Lyraene stepped onto the bridge as well.

A warm wind blowing through the canyon of the Stiltways stirred her blond hair. She drew her sword.

"Since you have a magic sword," she said, "I hope you don't mind if I even the odds a little."

She spoke a word and gestured with one hand. With her other, she stabbed the rapier up into the air. A pure, ringing note shimmered in the night as she cast the spell. The metal of the sword seemed to ripple faintly.

Keph smiled. "You're full of surprises, aren't you? Don't use up all your magic, though. You may need some later." He drew Quick and said, "Storm's lash!"

Lightning crackled up the blade and quickly subsided. Lyraene snorted as she walked out to meet him.

"I could just knock that out of your hand again," she said.

"You can try."

He held Quick up in a salute. Lyraene returned the gesturethen lunged.

Keph had been expecting it. He dodged back, then flicked Quick in a fast cut across her torso. Lyraene arched away from it, but only barely, and smacked her back against the railings of the bridge. The platform shook with the impact, but swayed no more than a couple of inches. The ties at the ends held it firmly. Lyraene rolled off the railings, turning to meet him again. Her eyes narrowed.

"Nice try," she spat.

She swung her sword. He parried.

Their weapons met with a shriek. Blue sparks spat off of Quick's blade. The magic in the rapier guided his hand as he pushed Lyraene's sword to the side and tried to thrust inside her guard while she was out of line. The half-elf was faster though. Her sword came back up and caught Quick. Brushing the rapier aside, Lyraene thrust at him.

Keph gave ground and surged back. Lyraene thrust and retreated. With each blow and step, the swaybridge shimmied.

When Lyraene turned to avoid a blow, he slid past her and threw an elbow into her stomach, then sprinted for the end of the bridge. Lyraene's cronies shouted in surprise and derision.

If they thought he was giving up the fight, they were going to be disappointed. At the end of the bridge, he reached down and slashed Quick at the thick ropes tying off the platform. Lightning crackled with the blow. The ropes parted.

The end of the bridge swung free.

Keph whirled back to Lyraene. She was clutching the rail with her free hand but the shock on her face was — already fading into an angry growl.

"I hope your balance is as good as you think it is!" she yelled.

Lyraene let go of the rail and charged straight along the swaying bridge.

Keph met her with a charge of his own, catching her blow on Quick Sparks showered down on them. Keph leaned against Lyraene, trying to force her back, but she was stronger than she looked She heaved up, forcing their locked weapons away and bringing their bodies closer together. For a moment, Keph could feel her breath on his face.

Her weight shifted as she raised a foot to kick him or stomp on his leg.

Keph stopped straining against her and folded backward, twisting with her weight as he fell. Lyraene gasped and stumbled, falling past him to hit the wood of the platform. She squirmed around, trying to raise her sword above herself in defense, but as soon as she let him go Keph was sprinting againto the other end of the bridge.

He swung Quick and lightning crackled again. The stink of burning rope puffed into the night wind. The whole bridge shook and swung.

"You crazy bastard!" yelled Lyraene.

Keph spun around. The half-elf was kneeling. She thrust her free hand at him and shouted a word of magic.

A shimmering bolt streaked from her hand. Out of instinct, he raised Quick, but it was no good. Magic blasted through his body and left him gasping and staggering. His free hand found a rail and he grabbed it for support. Bright spots of pain danced in his vision. He could see Lyraene, though. She was up stalking toward him, sword out and ready.

Throwing his arm around the rail, he flung the weight of his body backward.

Ropes creaked and groaned as the platform swung forward. Lyraene stumbled with the motionthen staggered and fell as the end of the bridge slammed hard against the walkway that had once anchored it. Her sword flew out of her grasp and slid across the wood.

Keph stepped forward and stopped it with his foot. He scooped it up and advanced slowly on Lyraene. She lifted her head, blond hair falling down around her face, to stare at him.

"Get up," he ordered her.

The half-elf rose cautiously. With Quick hovering at the ready, Keph held her sword out to her.

"Take that," he said, "and cast the cantrip you used at the Mantle on it."

Her eyes narrowed. At the end of the bridge, her cronies began making nasty sounds.

"Don't try anything or she doesn't get a second chance!" Keph yelled at them. He twitched the sword. "Cast the cantrip!"

Lyraene reached out and took it. She kept her eyes on him as she spoke the spell and wiped her fingers along the blade, leaving pale light behind. Keph raised Quick to her. She lifted her glowing swordand Keph swung Quick down hard and fast. Sparks flew and metal screeched.

The blow slapped Lyraene's sword out of her hand. Keph drew Quick back, then jabbed out with delicate precision. Lightning crackled and Lyraene staggered against the rail, gasping as she clutched at the neat, smoldering puncture in her left hip.

Lyraene's cronies were shouting again, but their shouts soon turned to cries of alarm. Out of the corner of his eye, Keph could see Talisk and Starne menacing them with slashes of their own swords. Bracing himself against the swaying of the bridge, Keph raised Quick once more.

"Remember that cantrip!" he screamed. "It's going to be the last spell you ever cast!"

He thrust Quick down into Lyraene's right armand held it there, the rapier piercing the flesh of her forearm and grating along the bone. Lyraene's shrieks almost drowned out the snap of lightning as it lashed through her. Her muscles twisted as they burned, warping her hand and wrist into a dreadful claw. Keph wrenched Quick free. Lyraene fell to the floor of the platform, twitching and screeching. Keph planted a foot on her shoulder to hold her still and took aim at her left arm.

"Halt!"

The command rolled over and through him like thunder, locking his arm and stopping his blow. Keph gasped and looked up.

A man in fine clothing was racing along the walkway toward the other end of the swaying bridge. In his hand he held a long, delicate sword that burned with cold white light. The magical illumination shimmered on his silvery-white hair and on the silver medallion he wore around his neck. Baret leaped out to confront him, but the man barely paused in his pace. His free hand thrust out, fingers spread wide.

"In Selune's name, I bid you go from this place!"

To Keph's eyes, the man seemed to shimmer with power. He could only guess what Baret saw. The cultist shrieked louder than Lyraene, turned on his heels, and fled in terror.

A priest of Selune! Keph cursed.

The silver-haired man's command was already fading and he could move again. He stumbled away from Lyraene, twitching Quick to point at the priest as the man paused before the end of the swaying bridge. Keph risked a fast glance over his shoulder. Lyraene's cronies had regained some of their bravado while Starne and Talisk were retreating, glancing uneasily between cronies and priest.

Keph whirled and fled toward them, vaulting from bridge to walkway with a hoarse shout. He crashed into two of Lyraene's friends, sending them sprawling, then scrambled to his feet. As the other two spun around in surprise, Starne and Talisk turned and fled. Keph sprinted after them, lashing Quick at the cronies to drive them back.

There were stairs down to the depths of the Stiltways nearby. They raced down them and down the next set, too. Only when they were two levels and a full street away from the vengeful priest did they stop.

"Dark," panted Talisk. "What happened? Where did he come from?"

"It doesn't matter," Keph replied. He held up Quick. Lyraene's blood was still smoking on the metal. He kissed the blade. "Hail Shar, Mistress of the Night," he murmured, his voice thick with rapture. "Thank you."

– — ‹§) The old woman seated alone at a table for two pressed her hands to her cheeks as Mifano crossed the terrace of the Sky's Mantle.

"My dear," she gasped, "I was angry that you were so late, but I see that you must have reason!" She reached out and touched his doublet. "Is that blood?"

"Not mine, madam."

He sat down wearily and reached across the table for the decanter of wine. It was almost half empty and he gave the old woman a disapproving look.

"You are very late, Mifano," she said.

He shook his head and poured wine into a goblet.

"I was late when I left Moonshadow Hall," he explained, "and a good thing, tooI took a shortcut and ended up interrupting a duel." He gulped wine and shook his head again. "No," he corrected himself, "not a duel. Something closer to torture. I was able to offer the victim healing and she may recover the use of her arm."

"My poor, silver-haired dear!" The woman reached out and wrapped her fingers around his free hand. "You're a hero!"

"It was nothing more than my duty," he said, but smiled anyway and set the wineglass down. "And a terrible duty it is to keep me a moment longer than necessary from the company of the charming Lady Monstaed!" He raised her hands and kissed them, then smiled again. "And I must compliment you again on your fine new ring. So many other women of your station disdain amethyst as gaudy, but you wear it so well."

"Oh, you tremendous flirt," laughed Variance. She smiled with wrinkled lips. "But tell me, what kept you at Moonshadow Hall? What has been happening there since we spoke last?"