Moonshadow (41 page)

“You talk as if Moonshadows are extinct.”

“They are,” Darien swiftly replied, as if to reassure himself of the fact. “The Great Moonshadow Purge saw to that. Not a single Moonshadow has appeared in over a thousand years.”

Darien’s words filled Diana with a fair amount of trepidation. She would like to think the Naphalei were above notions of mass genocide, but considering how most of them treated humans, she wasn’t all that surprised.

“Why would Morgana think that I was a Moonshadow?” she asked, wanting to know how Darien had justified the dead queen’s accusations.

“The Serpent’s Knight-Commanders were all Moonshadows—as was Arthur himself. When you asked about the Chalice, Morgana’s distraught shade most likely associated your humanity with her great Moonshadow enemies, who also coveted the sacred cup.”

As plausible as Darien’s explanation sounded, Diana wasn’t entirely convinced. She needed to know why Moonshadows were so hated, and if possible, gauge Darien’s reaction to the prospect that she could be a magical human.

“Too bad,” Diana said with disappointment in her voice. “I was hoping I could be a mage.”

“
Never
wish for such a thing.” Darien replied, deadly serious. “It would mean your swift and immediately death, and no amount of my pleading on your behalf could save you.”

“Why are Moonshadows treated like monsters that need to be eradicated? They’re not like the Melkafir.”

“I don’t need to explain to you how war and senseless destruction breeds fear, Diana. After the fall of Qir’Aflonas, the Shadow Edict was the natural conclusion. Each Moonshadow was to be hunted down and killed to insure that another Arthur Pendragon would never rise up. Regardless of how justified the law is, it remains just that—the law. Should a Moonshadow ever be discovered, they would be hunted down and killed before the ink was dry on the orders of execution.”

Whether from the possibility of death, or just the grave injustice of mass killings in the name of “peace”, Diana felt extremely uneasy, and angry, about it all. Not to mention Darien seemingly being alright with this Shadow Edict.

“Not every Moonshadow participated in Arthur’s wars, did they?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her bodice. “What about the innocent? Did they deserve to die? Would
I
, if I were a Moonshadow? Would I deserve to die?”

Darien sighed heavily. He apparently did not wish to have this conversation with her.

“Every Moonshadow was a walking cataclysm waiting to happen—and for many, a temptation too hard to resist.”

“Temptation?” she asked, finding Darien’s explanations for genocide perplexing.  “What is that supposed to mean?”

The hard pounding on the ancient wooden door caused her question to go unanswered and forgotten, replaced by one in need of a more immediate answer.

“What do we do?!” she asked in a panic. “There’s no way out.”

“Morgana’s scream must have alerted Ardeqai.” Darien said, turning to consider the door. He certainly didn’t seem as panicked as Diana felt. He was either hiding it very well, or had expected something like this to happen. “There is one way out,” he said quickly, but calmly, holding his hand out to her.

It didn’t take long for Diana to figure out exactly what he meant.

“You want to jump down the hole?” she asked, feeling apprehensive about falling into a gaping abyss. “We could end up in the Nightmare, for all we know!” Diana would almost rather face the wrath of the Ardeqai Inquisitors. The thought of willfully jumping into the swirling shadows of the Veil was insane.

The pounds on the door were replaced by the familiar sounds of chopping wood—the Ardeqai were forcing their way into the tomb.

It didn’t take long before the wood began to splinter and a bit of axe-head poked through the newly made hole in the massive door.

“No time to argue, my dear,” Darien said before he grabbed Diana’s hand and pulled her to his chest. Holding her in a tight embrace, securely, Darien plunged the both of them through the cold flowing water of the Spirit spring and into the gaping hole in the stone floor.

Diana buried her face in Darien’s chest, forcing herself not to scream in terror as they plummeted into the dark abyss, the swirling shadows reaching out to claim her soul.

Chapter 18

Arthur, my beloved King of Dragons,

Your great quest is finally at an end.

I am the Queen of the Blessed Chalice

And this Cup, blazing bright with sacred fire,

Is your boundless reward forevermore.

Falling. Spinning. Swimming—Diana had no way of describing the sensation she was feeling as the shadows took her into an almost-loving embrace. Her reality was darkness. Her sight, completely beyond physical senses.

In the vast nothing she saw a light; a small speck at first, but it continued to grow and pierce the shadows until Diana could see a silhouette in the distance. Something large, like a floating iceberg drifting in the ether, lay in the expanse beyond.

Diana’s descent stopped and she felt her heart being pulled as she lurched forward with an otherworldly speed that would have left a physical being a liquidated mess.

When the sensation passed she found herself directly above a floating mass of shimmering crystal, gazing down upon a vast open pit in its middle. Though powerful luminous energy shined around the mouth of the pit, the center descended into a great darkness that Diana could not fathom. Attached to the jagged crystal sides, six great chains of dark metal extended into the depths of the black abyss.

The Pit of Shadows, Daughter
, said
the silky voice of a woman, speaking within Diana’s heart. Though it was unfamiliar, she knew its bearer loved her.
In its dark depths, my brothers and sisters lie in chains as they wait for redemption.

Diana wanted to speak, to ask questions of the voice, but couldn’t. Deep within herself, she knew that she was being privileged to this vision and that her silent reflection was necessary.

Free them, Daughter. Seek that which Elberon blessed me to bear—my gift to Madaera’s Children. A New Dawn shall rise after this Darkest of Nights.

The luminous energies surrounding the mouth of the pit began to glow brighter until Diana’s vision was completely enveloped in the world-blinding light. In its silvery shining midst, she saw the outline of a woman in long flowing robes, reaching out with pleading arms.

Diana reached out to embrace the woman and her soul caught fire with the blinding light as it was pulled ever upwards.

—

As she slowly regained consciousness, Diana quickly became aware of the sharp discomfort in her back typical of lying on rocky ground. Confused by the sound of flowing water, she opened her eyes and the sudden vision of the real world jolted her hazy mind back to reality.

She was in an underground cavern, and lying—with her dress soaked through—next to a stream. The darkness surrounding Diana was penetrated by a single beam of moonlight shining down through a hole in the ground directly above her.

“You’ve opened your eyes,” Darien said in passionate relief. “Thank Elberon beyond.”

“What happened?” Diana asked while groggily propping herself up on her elbows. “The last thing I remember is falling into darkness.”

“Honestly, I am not entirely sure, myself,” Darien replied. “You must have lost consciousness some time during the fall. I feared you had hit your head when we plunged into the water.”

Diana recalled the fall, the swirling shadows, and then—the vision. The Veil had embraced her, showing her the Pit of Shadows, where the Fallen wait in their chains. Darien had mentioned something about the depths of the Temple containing a gateway into the Veil, and that the Fallen’s prison lay just beyond it. When she lost consciousness, Diana’s soul must have been taken straight to it.

Then she remembered the voice. It had spoken of freeing her brothers and sisters—could it have really been Udana? Did the Moon Keeper truly speak to Diana?
She called me Daughter.

Considering Darien’s earlier reaction to the subject of Moonshadows, Diana decided to keep the vision to herself—for now.

“So, we fell into an underground river?” she asked. “Where are we now?”

“I was fairly certain that the water from the Spirit spring flowed into some sort of drainage system, but wasn’t sure where it would lead. We weren’t adrift for very long, so we must still be within the area of Glastonbury.”

Diana gazed up at the moon through the hole in the roof of the cavern. The sight brought with it a strange sense of comfort.

“Why don’t you conjure us up a ladder or something so we can get out through there?”

Darien half smiled at her. “My, aren’t we bossy for someone who has just regained consciousness?”

“Cut your sass and just do it,” Diana ordered with mock authority.

“As my lady commands,” Darien replied with a playful bow of his head and stood up from the ground. He reached his hand out to Diana and she took it gratefully as he helped her to her feet.

Diana took a moment to wallow in the fact that she absolutely hated wearing wet clothes, and a completely soaked ball gown was a dreadful experience. She hoped she hadn’t ruined it over the course of their cave-diving escapade.

Darien approached the side of the cavern wall and touched it with both hands as he sent magical energies into the earth, causing it to ripple and contort. In moments, a makeshift ladder of dirt and stone led to the opening above.

“Not perfect,” Diana said, playfully inspecting the stone mage’s work. “But I guess it will do.”

“Not my best craftsmanship, I admit, but it’s the best I can do under the pressure of such a stern taskmaster.”

“Shut up and climb,” Diana said, poking him in the chest.

Darien complied quickly and began the ascent.

As she griped the stones, making her way to the opening, Diana’s soggy existence only worsened as the dirt clung to her wet dress and became a muddy mess. By the time they reached the surface, she’d be a filthy sight to behold.

Finally reaching to the top, they found a black metal grate covering the perfectly circular hole. Before Diana had a chance to ask what they were going to do about it, Darien used a bit of magic to pry the grate loose from the rock and lifted it open with the creak of old metal hinges.

In moments, he was out on the surface and extending a hand to Diana to help her out.

When she popped her head out of the strangely warm darkness of the cavern, Diana was immediately hit with a gust of frozen winter air that sent blessedly unmagical shivers up her spine. After the initial shock, Diana quickly recognized where they were—the Chalice Well Gardens; and they were steadily being covered in the white snows of a winter storm.

“How do you like that?” she exclaimed as she lifted her legs from out of the well—a considerable feat with the state of her skirts. “Does that mean we just went for a swim in elven toilet water?” Her teeth were beginning to chatter.

“I believe it does,” Darien replied with a smirk before his countenance turned grim at the sight of Diana’s quickly freezing person. “We need to get to shelter before you catch hypothermia.”

“What about you?” she asked through chattering teeth, gripping herself for warmth.

“Naphalei don’t freeze as easily as humans.”

Once Diana had given Darien the beguile ring, and they had switched out disguises, he pulled her to his side in an attempt to give her some of his body heat as they left the gardens. They tried to remain as stealthy as possible, considering it was still in the early hours of the morning. If Diana had to venture a guess, it was most likely somewhere close to 3AM, and the sight of a soaking wet couple in formal wear was likely to draw the attention of any police officer that happened to be driving by.

It wasn’t long before Diana felt so frozen that she could barely keep her wits. Darien’s body heat just wasn’t enough to keep hers from shivering itself to death as it steadily grew numb from the cold. Diana could feel her wet gown already beginning to freeze over and solidify. She just had to keep moving, she had no other choice.

In the distance, she could barely see the outline of the abbey ruins in the white flurries of snow and knew they were almost to the old town square. It wouldn’t be long before she could warm herself beside the cozy fires of the tavern—that thought alone gave Diana the drive to keep walking.

She took another shivering step and felt nothing as her foot gave out and she tumbled onto the frozen concrete of the sidewalk. Reflexively, she tried to right herself and stand back up but she couldn’t feel her feet. All that remained was the throbbing phantom of pain.

“I—I—can’t walk anymore,” Diana declared through shivers of cold and panic.

She could feel Darien’s alarm as he gazed on the sight of her freezing body and his overwhelming need to get her to the safety of a warm fire. With a renewed burst of energy, Darien scooped Diana up into his arms and began to run with reckless abandon.

“Stay with me, Diana,” Darien pleaded as he ran. “We’ll be there soon,” he said, his tone warm and assuring. “We just faced the wrath of my sister, the hunt of an Inquisitor, and the specter of Morgana—this little snow flurry is nothing.

Diana attempted to smile at his words but couldn’t tell if her mouth accomplished her mind’s goal.

Through the frozen haze she finally saw the swinging sign of
The Red Dragon Inn
and it might as well have been a shining lighthouse in a stormy sea. The sight of the beacon of hope was enough to fill Diana’s frozen heart with warmth.

Once inside the inn, Darien quickly procured a room, and in a matter of minutes, Diana was sitting in a chair before an empty fireplace with her nearly frost bitten feet in a bowl of hot water, steadily regaining circulation. She could already feel the stinging pain that signaled the return of sensation.

After several minutes of soaking, and Darien frantically pouring small amounts of magical energy into her limbs, Diana felt she could stand up on her own. As she was still shivering uncontrollably, oblivious to everything around her but the cold, all she wanted in life was to be out of her frozen gown.

Trembling and fumbling about, trying desperately to get out of a dress that she didn’t entirely know how she got into in the first place, Diana was in her own frozen hell.
I’ll never be warm again.

Quickly sensing her incapacity, Darien appeared at Diana’s side. “Here, let me help,” he said and then gently helped to untie, unbuckle, and unfasten whatever was keeping Diana trapped in the frozen dress.

When her icy straitjacket finally fell to the floor with a thud, Diana rushed to the bed to snag a brown fleece throw—that looked very warm and inviting—as Darien got the fireplace going with his magic.

Sitting on the bed, wrapped in the warm embrace of the blanket, Diana felt her life and wits returning to her.

Was it all finally over? Were they safe? Darien’s frantic words before had held a fair amount of truth. Over the course of their fairy tale evening they had dealt with Edea’s wrath, Inquisitor Turion’s chase, and then a nightmarish encounter with the ghost of Morgan Le Fey, only to plunge headfirst into the darkness below the Temple of the Fallen. And if that was not enough, Diana had almost frozen to death to make it to the safety of her family’s ancestral home.
Talk about one hell of a Zen’Naphalia.
Hopefully Christmas would be a much more pleasant holiday.

With the blanket still tightly wrapped around her shoulders, Diana stood from the bed to meet Darien by the fireplace. Only then, as she gazed upon him poking the fire while he imbued it with small amounts of energy, did she realize that he had shed his own frozen formal wear and thrown a rug of dark brown fur over his shoulders.

As she watched the light of the newly formed fire dance shadows and glisten across Darien’s wet skin, Diana immediately felt her face begin to flush with warmth, regardless of her nearly freezing to death.

Save for the fur around his shoulders, which covered him like the mantle of some barbarian chieftain, Darien was completely naked—as was she.

Continuing to gaze upon the lights and shadows that defined his muscles, Diana’s thoughts coursed like a river through her mind. On that now distant night in Charlotte’s room, she had been ready to give herself to Darien, only to be jolted by the sudden revelation that he would be forever bound to her if they were to be intimate. Since then, Diana had unconsciously forced the thoughts from her mind, not wishing to complicate matters further than they already were. She had remained in such a state of mind until the Melkafir attack, when—with her mortality immediately before her—Diana realized how much she truly loved Darien. She had almost told him as much after he had rescued her. Since then, she hadn’t found the right moment; they were always on the move.

Diana focused on one of two things that still adorned her person—the thrall ring around her wrist—and clutched it with her other hand, feeling the lily ornamentations.

This is such a mess.
It made Diana’s head spin to think that the enigmatic—and initially quite condescending—guy she’d ended up falling for turned out to be a magical elven lord who could be severely punished for loving her. There was absolutely no way the two of them could keep their relationship a secret forever; Edea had figured them out almost immediately, and sent Inquisitor Turion to kill her. Could the two of them be happy living such a life? Afraid and on the run, always looking over their shoulders?