tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance (12 page)

I followed my cousins and Janessa down the stairs and out through the kitchen. So it seemed they, too, understood this was the best way to slip from the castle without being noticed. At first I hung back, certain that if I made enough noise, they would realize someone tagged along behind them, but they only looked forward and seemed to take no real note of their surroundings.

This allowed me to move somewhat more freely as we left the shelter of the castle and headed out through the moonlit fields, the grasses rustling under our trailing skirts. As I had thought they might, the little group went unerringly toward the ford in the stream, then followed the bank along the other side and on up to the place where they might pass into the darkness of the forest.

At this point, I quailed slightly, wishing again that I had brought a lantern with me. Surely if they had not noticed someone following them this whole time, then there was a very good chance they would not notice a lantern, either. But I had not thought to bring one, and besides, since the moon was quite bright, only a few days from being full, I knew I should see well enough.

Besides, it was not as if I hadn’t gone this way just the night before.

They led me deeper into the woods, their gowns ghostly blurs of white in the darkness. If any wild animals watched, they made no move to attack, although certainly all of the girls would have been easy prey in their current state. Perhaps the mage was keeping the beasts of the forest at bay with a different spell.

At length we reached the same clearing where I had first seen them dancing. Here, I hung back, for I knew I would be far too conspicuous if I followed them any further. Instead, I hid myself behind the thick trunk of an ancient oak, and settled myself in to watch.

The four of them took up the same positions as they had the previous night. At the time, I had been too flustered by the uncanny sight to attempt to see any rhyme or reason in what they were doing, but now I thought they had arranged themselves so they stood at the four points of the compass, with Adalynn taking north and Janessa south, and Carella and Theranne occupying west and east, respectively.

Once again, they reached out to join hands and began to move slowly in a circle, going clockwise, as before. The night wind rose, fluttering at the hems of their gowns and pressing the thin fabric against their bodies. Although their hair had been braided for the night, the breeze was brisk enough that it tugged strands loose so they blew into their eyes, but none of them blinked. Not even once.

A fierce whisper. “I told you not to come back here!”

Although I had hoped he would return, I could not help startling slightly at the sound of his voice. Then I gathered myself and turned back toward him, even as I tightened the shawl around my shoulders. Watching my cousins and Janessa dance had told me just how much our nightgowns could reveal.

His silver eyes were narrowed and fierce, and his hands were planted on his hips. The previous night I had been so preoccupied with his unusual looks that I had not paid much attention to what he wore. Now I saw that he had on a plain dark doublet and breeches and high boots. An unadorned belt with a dagger in an equally plain scabbard hung at his waist. The clothes were completely ordinary, and yet they somehow served to draw even more attention to his face, to the bright silver of his eyes and the smooth pallor of his skin. If he was able to grow any kind of a beard, I could see no sign of it in the dark-dappled moonlight.

“You did,” I said calmly. “But you are not my lord and master, and since this forest belongs to the crown, I have just as much a right to be here as anyone else.”

“Foolish, stubborn girl!” he shot back. “You have no idea what you are dealing with!”

I chose to ignore the insult. In an echo of his own posture, I set my hands on my hips and stared back at him, willing myself to forget that I stood before him wearing only a nightgown and a shawl. “No, I do not, for you refuse to tell me. But those are my cousins over there, and I deserve answers.”

To my relief, his eyes remained fixed on my face. If he had taken note of my dishabille, he gave no sign of it. “You would return here, when I have already told you of the danger you bring upon yourself by ignoring my warnings?”

“Yes,” I said. “You called me stubborn, and I suppose that is nothing more than I deserve. I would debate you on ‘foolish,’ though. Foolhardy…perhaps.”

For just the barest instant, I thought I saw his mouth quirk, as if what I had said amused him, despite everything. But his voice was stern enough as he returned, “Did I not tell you that they would return unharmed? Did I lie?”

“No,” I admitted. “They did return to the castle, and seemed well enough, if somewhat wearied by what they had experienced during the night, even though they recalled nothing of it. But I still know nothing of why they are here. Can you not tell me that at least?”

A certain tautness overtook his features then, and he glanced away from me, as if looking to see that we were still alone. I recalled the tumult in the sky the night before, how he had told me that something dark and dangerous was approaching. The woods around us still seemed calm enough, however, and so I guessed that the “he” the stranger had referenced the night before was not yet about to make an appearance.

“I cannot,” he said. “It would change nothing, save to put you in even greater danger.”

I did not like the sound of that. But, because I was stubborn, I said next, “Then can you at least tell me your name?”

He hesitated. A slight lift of his shoulders, as if he had debated with himself and decided he could allow me that trifle at least. “I am called Reynar.”

“Reynar…what?” For everyone I had ever heard of or met had some sort of family name.

“Only Reynar. And now that you have that particular piece of information, will you go?”

“Why? Is
he
coming?”

A long pause. Reynar looked past me, to the clearing where the girls danced, graceful ghosts in the moonlight. My gaze followed his, and once again I thought I could see that strange luminescence, as if some sort of light or energy flowed from them and around them. If I looked too closely, however, it disappeared at once, as if it had never been.

“No,” Reynar replied, somewhat begrudgingly, as if loath to tell the truth but also not wishing to tell a lie. “Not yet, at any rate. There is time for you to go in a more sedate manner than you did last night.”

“Well, then,” I said. “Last night you seemed puzzled that the spell did not affect me. Have you thought on that any more? For I must confess that I am curious as to why I am not out there dancing with the rest of them.”

His gaze moved from the quartet in the clearing back to me, and for some reason I could feel hot color move into my cheeks. In that moment, I was glad of the gloom, glad that he probably would not be able to tell I had blushed.

“I did think on it,” he said. “As did he. But neither of us could think of what the reason might be. As far as either of us are able to tell, you are an ordinary enough girl.”

“Why, thank you,” I said with some acid. “This is the first time I have found value in being
ordinary
.”

He blinked, then shook his head. “That is not what I meant. I am sure many think you a most exceptional young woman.”

This piece of backtracking did little to mollify me. I lifted my chin at him and said, “So which is it? Am I ordinary…or exceptional? I find it hard to believe that I can be both.”

“Oh, for all the gods’ sakes….” The words trailed off, and he seemed to set his jaw as he stared down at me. “You are exceptionally stubborn, and quite lovely, and so I suppose those qualities must make you more than ordinary. But at the same time, you are a young woman of quite normal birth, and no peculiar abilities. You are no user of magic, or anything of that ilk, are you?”

“No,” I responded, even as a strange, warm little tingle went over me at the same time. He had said I was quite lovely. So despite his apparent focus on far more important matters, he had still noticed something about my appearance. “No, if that is your definition of ‘ordinary,’ then I suppose I am quite ordinary indeed. But still there must be something different about me, some reason why I am able to resist the spell, or you and I would not be standing here and talking like this.”

For a second or two, he did not speak. I did not know him well enough to clearly read his expressions, and yet I would say he was feeling somewhat flummoxed. “My lady,” he said formally. “It is a puzzle, true, and one I have not yet worked out. I suppose I will discover the answer at some point…or
he
will.”

“Who is
he?
” I asked, for that was yet another question that had been preying on my mind. “For one would have thought we would have heard something, if such a very great mage was living somewhere near my uncle’s lands.”

Real fear flared in those silver eyes and was just as quickly gone. Indeed, that sudden flash of fright disappeared so swiftly, I was not quite sure I had not imagined it. “It is forbidden to say his name. Pray you never hear it. As for the rest….” Again there came one of those furtive glances upward, as if Reynar was not quite sure that his master was not about to descend upon us. “How do you think all the mage-born have been able to survive into these latter days? Through stealth, through cunning, through being able to hide their true natures. You could have one living very near and yet have no idea that he possessed any of those gifts.”

I shivered then. Perhaps the night wind had picked up…perhaps not. But as much as I wished to argue, I knew I could not. My own brother-in-law had lived for many years in the crowded capital of my land, and no one had known that he was a mage. They had all thought he was only Tobyn Slade, master goldsmith, a man who hid his face because of scarring from a terrible bout of smallpox he had suffered many years before. And if he could hide himself in plain sight, why not others who had been born with the forbidden magical abilities?

“Perhaps you are right,” I said. “I will admit that I know very little about how such things might be accomplished. But still…how is it that you came to be his apprentice? For that is what you are, is it not?”

Reynar’s fine features became clouded, and he would not meet my gaze. “That is a long story, and not one you have the leisure to hear right now. But yes, if it satisfies some of that misbegotten curiosity of yours, I am his apprentice. I am here to watch over them, to make sure they are safe until the spell has built to its height.”

“And then…?” I asked, wondering deep within if I really wished to hear the answer.

“And then he will reap what he has sown, and they will go home, with no recollection of where they have been.”

My voice dropped to a shaky whisper. “What is he sowing?”

“Nothing that hurts them. You have my promise on that.”

I hesitated. For I had seen my cousins return, more or less unharmed. They were tired, true, but that was only to be expected from someone who had been out wandering around in the middle of the night. Their bodies knew they had expended that effort, even if their minds had forgotten.

And yet…I had heard that no magic could be worked, no spell cast, without some kind of cost. The strange dance that had my cousins and Janessa moving in that slow, stately circle was creating some kind of energy; I was almost sure of it. But to what purpose?

I could ask again, but I knew I would only be wasting my breath. Reynar had told me a good deal, true, but mysteries still existed that he had no desire to explain to me. If I pressed him, he would only become closed off and silent.

“And what happens when Adalynn goes away?” I asked then.

His silvery head tilted to one side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that she is to be married the day after tomorrow. After the wedding, her new husband will take her away to dwell in his castle, on his lands. Will the spell work with only three women remaining?”

“It will work. Not as efficiently as it does now, perhaps. And he will also look for a new opportunity, another place where he might work the spell.”

That reply relieved me somewhat. For not only would this unknown mage make no effort to prevent Adalynn from going, but he would actually move on to work his magic somewhere else. We would be left alone. No matter what Reynar had said about the magic not harming my cousins, I could not prevent myself from thinking that it had to hurt them in the long run, if only because of all the sleep they would lose.

He went on, his tone somewhat gentler, “I know you worry for them, but there is no need. However, you have tarried here long enough. Will you please go now, before you must hurry away and possibly harm yourself?”

I hesitated. But then I looked up into his face and saw true concern reflected there. He did not want me to flee in terror as I had the night before. A measured exit would remove me from the orbit of this strange, unknown mage, and would prevent me from tripping and falling.

“I will,” I replied, noting the relief that passed over his features. “As long as you do not try to make me promise that I will not return.”

“Oh, I know better than to ask that.” He hesitated then before adding, “I must confess that it is pleasant to speak with someone other than my master.”

Warmth went through me at those words. Just before, he had said he thought I was lovely, and now he was admitting that he enjoyed our conversations. That seemed like worthy progress, even if he still had a fearsome master to contend with.

“You see no one else? Only your master?”

Reynar spread his hands and sent a self-deprecating glance downward at himself. “As you might have noticed, I am certain to draw attention wherever I go. So I do not venture forth from his holdings very often, save for these nocturnal expeditions.”

I did not bother to contradict him, for of course he was right — he would stand out dreadfully wherever he went. Even I tended to attract my own amount of attention, for golden hair such as I possessed was not very common in Purth. But still my heart was wrung as I thought of what must be a very solitary existence. We were certainly not acquainted enough for me to put a reassuring hand on his arm, or to twine my fingers with his, and so I only nodded and said, “Well, then, I am glad that we can speak here, even if this is the only place where we might do so freely.” I stopped there and glanced over at my cousins and Janessa, all of whom still moved in their silent circle, dancing to music apparently only they could hear. They would do so until the spell was wrought, but then they would be sent home. I did not need to worry about them…even though I knew I would. “And I will go now. Thank you, Reynar — thank you for telling me as much as you have.”