Shadow on the Moon (28 page)

"Queen Persephone," she
chanted next, the water fairly flowing from her fingers now. "Defeat the
foul god Pluto, and you, Shakti, bring rebirth to my love."

Finally she got to Fenris.
"Oh, Fenris-wolf," she cried, bestowing holy water between his
glowing eyes. "Rise and fight all who would oppose our quest."

Instead of dipping his head like
the others, Fenris arched back and emitted a long howl. Dana stood in front of
him while the cry rebounded off the rock walls and obelisks. Finally it faded.

When all was silent, she returned
to the bundle and took out seven split logs, which she carried to the fire pit.
The scratchy bark stung her chilled fingertips, making it harder to stack them
precisely as directed. One fell away from the complex arrangement and she stifled
a curse.

The uncertainty she'd felt since
leaving the cabin came back in a rush. Would Morgan come? What if he'd been
seriously hurt in his fight with the other wolf? Even killed?

She couldn't let a single doubt
intrude. He was bigger and stronger than the other one. As surely as the sun
would set, he would come. Holding that thought close to her heart, she reset
the final log. Next, she gathered kindling. When she'd arranged it around the
logs, she struck a match and dropped it in the pit. The damp twigs and leaves
smoldered, went out. She lit and dropped another match. Several attempts later,
the logs caught fire and she held her icy hands over the flame, trying to warm
them up.

Beyond the trees, rivaling the
dancing reds and oranges in the pit, was the sky. Dazzling pinks, incomparable
blues, and brilliant silvers streaked through the billowing cloud cover. Then
the colors faded and the sky began to dim.

Just then, she heard a terrible
roar. A mountainous form came sailing down from the air above her. Dana whirled
and leaped into the circle, praying its protection wouldn't fail.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The tremendous form thudded to a
landing just behind the sitting dogs. Fire reflected in its savage eyes,
glinted off a fang. Dana's nerves exploded. She screamed repeatedly. The dogs
shuffled, began to whine entreatingly, and still she screamed.

"Quiet, Dana!" The
mountainous shape moved closer and stroked Aphrodite's head. Immediately, the
pack calmed down. "You're scaring the hell out of the dogs."

Her next cry died painfully in her
throat and her knees grew weak. It was only Morgan. He had come. She was safe.
She rushed from the circle and wrapped her arms as far as she could around his
huge chest, burying her face in his smooth coat.

"Oh, Morgan, you came. I was
so afraid you'd been hurt."

"Get back in the circle!"

Stunned by his harshness, Dana
stepped back. "Why? There's still daylight left."

Ignoring her protests, Morgan
lifted her, then dropped her in the circle so quickly she had to struggle to
stay on her feet. He staggered from the ring's perimeter, his body jerking
several times. After regaining his footing, he fixed her with a stare.

"Never trust me on a night
such as this! And look away."

"But the moon hasn't risen
yet.”

"A little knowledge is a
dangerous thing," he mumbled irritably, bending down for one of the fur
robes Dana had carried her things in. He tossed it to her. "Wrap up! Then
explain why you must always defy me."

Dana hadn't taken time to imagine
Morgan's reaction when he realized she'd prepared for the ceremony, but this
certainly wasn't what she'd pictured. Her lower lip began to tremble. She bit
it fiercely.

"If you have to ask . ."
She knew she should be terrified, but all she felt was a deep and terrible
hurt. If he loved her as she loved him . . .

She turned her back, spoke into the
empty, darkening night. "So we can be together. I love you, Morgan."

"Dana." The rough timbre
left his voice.

Dana glanced up and saw him
standing naked in the firelight. He'd alchemized to human form while she'd been
staring into the dark, and now looked so gloriously fierce that Dana's love
burst anew. She turned, about the leave the circle once more.

Morgan put up a warning hand.
"It's because I love you, too, that I tried to prevent this."

He glanced up. Dana's eyes moved in
tandem with his and she saw pale twilight overhead. Gloom was nearly upon them.

He shivered and she did, too.
"Wrap up," he said again, more kindly, then moved to pick up the
second robe. "The cold is bitter."

Pulling the fur close to his neck,
he gazed around. Dana saw him take in the carefully laid fire, the precise
circle on the ground, the meticulously arranged dogs. Finally his eyes came to
rest on the small bottle hanging from her neck.

"You've done well, Dana."
He lowered himself agilely near the edge of the circle and sat tailor-fashion.
"Now we have to talk."

The crease on his forehead had
deepened so much his eyebrows seemed to touch. Dana's heart sank. After all
this, he would still send her away. Pulling her skirts into the protection of
the fur, she sank to the ground, eyes downcast, dreading what she knew would
come.

"If anyone can survive this
night," Morgan said, "we can."

Dana jerked her head up and smiled
tremulously. "You mean it?"

Morgan's face softened. A small
smile played around his lips and he didn't try to smother it. "How can I
refuse so brave a lady?" He looked up, saw the sun sinking in the
darkening sky. "Our lives are in the hands of Venus."

Dana nodded gravely. Morgan could
still see a glimmer of green in her beautiful eyes. But not for long. Soon all
would be shades of gray. Even then, though, she would fill his soul with light
and color.

"You really do love me,"
he whispered, so softly he saw she strained to hear.

"With all my heart."

"I love you just as deeply,
Dana. Please believe I do."

"I know." Her eyes
brimmed with tears. "And love will protect us."

"We can only hope." He
reached into the circle and brushed a trickling tear off Dana's cheek. This
time he felt no repulsing shock. In human form he could pass through the
sanctified line as he wished. But later, thank the heavens, it would keep her
safe from him. Unless she failed to . . .

"Some warnings," he said
sternly, desperately wanting Dana to follow every last instruction. "When
the moon rises, I'll instinctively alchemize. Although I know I have less
control of my impulses during a full moon, I'm not sure how much less. I've
chained myself on nights such as this to keep from finding out. Most of the
time, I fall into a haze, and when I awake I remember little of what
happens."

Pausing briefly, he got lost in
watching the firelight dance in Dana's green eyes. He might lose her tonight,
and the possibility chilled him so thoroughly he dared not think a bout it.
Dana waited expectantly until he continued.

"Perhaps I'll have more
control than I think I will, but we can't count on it. I may fall into the
darkest side of myself. If so, I'll . . ." He looked away. "I'll try
to kill you. I know you've read the ceremony, so please remember the most
important part. Don't ever meet my eyes. I might beg you to look at me, to
invite me into the circle." He drew a hand along the line in the dirt.
"It's the only way I can cross."

He went on to remind her not to
leave the circle, no matter what happened, describing in graphic terms how
capable he was of ripping her to shreds. Darkness fell while he spoke, and soon
the fire was their only light. Occasionally it popped or one of the dogs
stirred. Otherwise, all was unnaturally quiet.

So was Dana. But more than once he
saw her cringe, and he kept up his litany of warnings, wanting to frighten her
so badly she wouldn't dare disobey.

Then he asked her to repeat the
ceremonial words.

Dana rolled her eyes, but Morgan
had seen the terror there and knew her action came from bravado.

"Do you think I'd be here if I
didn’t already know them?"

"Indulge me."

She made an annoyed sound, then
began.

"Yealanay, cawfanay, nayfanay,
may. Yealanay, cawfanay, nayfanay, may. The power of love triumphs this
day."

Morgan smiled approvingly, and Dana
picked up her tempo, moving through the remaining stanzas without once
faltering.

"What a woman!"

She laughed weakly. "What a
man!"

"One more thing." Morgan
leaned forward soberly, felt a rock jab at his backside. His knuckles were growing
raw from the cold. "I've blocked the opening to Lily and Jorje's den, but
I'm sure they have a second exit. Maybe the whelp believed me when I said we
wouldn't do the ceremony, but Lily surely won't. They'll come." He paused,
intentionally being dramatic. "Whatever happens, don't pull a trick like
you did up there in the meadow. You cannot defeat a werewolf. Don't even
try."

"What if they hurt you?"

"They won't. At least not
mortally." He stood up. "Trust me on this, Dana, for once. Never
forget that I am your greatest enemy tonight. The love that protects us also
makes you vulnerable."

She stared into the flames.
"I'm afraid, Morgan."

"So am I."

The wind picked up, blowing under
the edges of his fur blanket like a freezer blast. Morgan's testicles retreated
deep into his body; gooseflesh rose on his legs. But the discomfort would soon
be over, for him at least.

"The moon is rising," he
said ominously, seeing the pale disk peek over the canyon wall. His muscles
flexed, stretched, screamed from the effort. Hair appeared on his arms. He
plucked the cloak from his shoulders and tossed it into the ring.

"Put it on," he ordered
in a thickening voice. "The night will be long and cold."

"But, Morgan, the book says
I'm to have only one."

"It will do us little good if
you freeze to death before morning."

He turned and fixed his gaze on
her. She turned away, but still picked up the fur and obediently draped it over
her head.

"And Dana?" Morgan could
scarcely see her answering nod through his glazing eyes. "The ritual has
begun. Remember, I'm your enemy. Don't meet my eyes again."

Then he fell to the dirt and rolled
into a ball of pain.

* *
*

"Yealanay, cawfanay, nayfanay,
may," Dana cried, stretching her arms to the moon. She was supposed to
repeat this until his alchemization was over, wasn't she? Dear God, she'd
memorized it so completely she thought she could never forget.

But now, with Morgan writhing in
the dirt, hearing his screams, seeing his skin actually split apart, her mind
had turned to mush. She drove her hands deep into her windswept curls, pressing
them against her skull, willing memory to return.

"Yealanay, cawfanay, nayfanay,
may. Yealanay, cawfanay, nayfanay, may."

The moon moved up, deepening in
color. Dana reached higher, repeating the phrase over and over until her tongue
grew numb, her mouth grew stiff. The wind heightened, howling around her,
whipping tendrils of hair into her eyes. The dogs arched their necks and let
out endless howls. And still Dana chanted.

What horrors he had endured through
all these years. She'd heard him cry in pain, of course, but never in her
wildest dreams had she imagined such tearing and wrenching of bone and sinew
and muscle. His screams tore her heart like his changes tore his body. And to
think she'd begged to be like him. What a fool he must have thought her.

For just a heartbeat, she thought
to rush outside the circle, drop beside him, and hold him to her heaving
breasts until his agony passed. Then reason returned. Not self-preservation,
but the knowledge that if she weakened, she would doom Morgan to suffer this
forevermore.

Her head cleared. The words came
back. She continued chanting. Soon Morgan's pained moans diminished. He lifted
his head, leered at her with wolfish avarice.

"Da-a-na-a-a," he
crooned. "Please he-el-lp me. Let me in."

Dana shook her head furiously, kept
her eyes fixed firmly on the craters of the moon. She was supposed to say the
next line now. What was it? Dear heaven, what was it?

"The power of love will
triumph this night."

She sensed more than saw Morgan's
head drop. The sound of terrible weeping reached her ears. She must not look.
Oh, she must not look.

The next stanza . . . please, let
the words come . . .

"Lady moon in her great
fullness trines sweet Venus now.

Yet fickle Lady waits for none and
soon moves on."

A howl sounded in the distance,
different from the ones the dogs had been endlessly repeating. Another
followed, deep and baleful and horrible. Dana shuddered. Still, the words
flowed from her tongue.

"Oh, spirits of
transcendent love arise and heed my cry.

We need your light to vanquish
those dark foes who curse this man."

Time passed. She completed the
verse, began again.

"
Yealanay, cawfanay,
nayfanay, may
,"

The dogs howled more furiously.
Morgan scrambled to his feet, hunkered over, gaping savagely at Dana. His arms
were bent and lifted, curled fingers dripping with long claws. He drooled and
snarled, and several times Dana's eyes drifted down. He'd never looked more
abhorrent. For a moment, her love quavered.

"Let she who loves him ."

I love him, thought Dana. Love him
more than I love my own life.

She tore her eyes from Morgan,
reached higher for the moon, wanting to also touch benevolent Venus, who she
prayed would fulfill her promise.

"Let she who loves him
plead for grace this night.