tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance (8 page)

“Well, then,” I said. “I am sure Lord Elwyn will bring his son a wonderful bow for his birthday. But we must keep it as our secret.”

“Oh, of course,” Janessa responded. “I wouldn’t think of spoiling his surprise. Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. But now I do wish to sleep.”

She murmured something that sounded like an apology, then rolled over on her side. I let out a breath and uttered a silent thank-you to the gods that she had not decided to press the matter further. Now I only wanted to sleep, and put this day behind me. That interview with Lord Elwyn had been more taxing than I’d thought.

Apparently my body judged it so as well, because I slipped away into slumber soon enough after that. Perhaps I dreamed, but if I did, nothing of what had passed through my mind lingered.

All I knew was that sometime later I awoke, eyes opening to the hazy moonlit chamber around me. Because a gibbous moon was visible through the window, I knew that not too much time could have passed — a few hours at most.

The night was still. This time I heard not even an owl, and the breeze which came through the open casement was so gentle that at first I could not be sure I had not imagined it. Something made me turn my head toward the bed where Janessa slept, and I went still.

She was gone. Again.

In that moment, it was as if the vague curtain obscuring my memories of the night before had been drawn back, and I recalled how I had awakened to find Janessa and my cousins all gone. True, wherever they had disappeared to, it could not have been terribly dangerous, for they were all back in their beds before sunrise, tired but certainly not harmed in any way.

But just because they were safe did not mean something very strange wasn’t going on.

I pushed back the covers and rose from my bed, then went across the corridor to check the room that Theranne and Carella shared. It was empty, and so, too, was the large chamber Adalynn had as her own. This time, I saw that their dressing gowns still lay draped across the foot of all their beds, although I noticed their slippers were missing.

Those footprints in the forest….

Suddenly determined, I returned to my own room and hurriedly retrieved my plainest, oldest dress from the wardrobe, then drew off my nightgown. Fingers fumbling a little in the dark — for of course I could not light a candle and reveal that I was up and about — I got dressed and put on my sturdiest shoes.

I doubted that anyone would come to check on us, for we were all young women grown, and not small children who needed to be tended to in the middle of the night. Even so, I took the pillows from my bed and slipped them under the covers, so it looked as if someone slept there, then did the same thing with Janessa’s bed. A few moments lost as I also created the same subterfuge in the other girls’ bedrooms, but it was not so very long afterward that I slipped down the hallway and headed for the staircase.

The castle was dark and quiet. Once or twice when I had first come here, I had gotten up and roamed through its halls while everyone else slept, fascinated by the size of the place and wanting to experience something of it when the rest of the household was abed. However, after one of the maids caught me and gave me a good scolding, I stayed in my room like a good girl. Now I could only hope that no one would be up tonight, save the guards who always watched over the castle gates.

Those gates were not the only way out, however. While my uncle made sure his holdings were protected, it was not as if we had to watch for invaders from a neighboring land, or even bandits grown bold enough to attack such a formidable keep. So there was a door that opened from the kitchen into the kitchen garden, and another door through the wall that led to the fields beyond.

Going this way could be tricky, though, as there was always the risk of bumping into one of the household staff, who might be wakeful on a warm summer night. But somehow my cousins and Janessa had gotten out the night before and returned without anyone catching them, and so I had to hope I would have similar luck.

I crept along, keeping my back to the wall. At least that way no one could come up behind me, although I had to admit such a posture would look rather suspicious to any onlookers.

Not that there were any such watchers. The kitchens — and the servants’ quarters which opened off that wing of the castle — were all silent and still. In the hearth, coals still glowed faintly red, banked down for the night, but their dull flicker was the only sign of life I was able to see. Hardly daring to breathe, I passed through the cavernous kitchen and to the door that opened on the gardens.

The latch lifted under my fingers, and in the next moment, I was outside, breathing in the cool night air. The scent of roses lingered, like a memory of the day’s warmth, although by that hour the temperature had dropped enough that I was almost chilled.

An easy remedy existed for that mild discomfort, of course. If I walked briskly, I certainly would not notice how much colder it was now than it had been during the daylight hours.

The large moon, Taleron, had begun to dip toward the west. I could not see the smaller Calendir, and guessed it had not yet risen. There was still enough light for me to make my way through the gardens, and then through the door in the wall, which should have been barred but somehow, curiously, was not.

Beyond lay the open fields where barley and rye grew tall and golden. I found the path that traveled between two of those fields, and followed it as it descended toward the creek and its border of dark, secret trees.

As I went, I had to wonder at myself, for I had no true evidence to tell me that my cousins and Janessa had passed this way. Yes, I had seen those footprints earlier, but the cottagers who worked the fields had daughters, and it could have been their footprints that marred the soft soil next to the creek. In truth, that seemed a far more rational reason for the prints I had seen.

But that explanation did not account for the inexplicable disappearance, and then reappearance, of the young women who dwelt in my uncle’s castle.

A few moments later, I had reached the stream. This time I did not take off my shoes and wade in the water, but rather picked my way along the rocky banks until I came to the spot where I had seen those prints in the sand. Although I had not brought a lantern with me, for fear of being discovered, my eyes had adjusted to the gloom well enough that I could see even more footprints now, many of them blurred, as if the older marks had been overlaid by newer, fresher ones.

For a long moment, I stood there, staring down at them. It seemed obvious enough to me that whoever had passed this way earlier must have been headed into the depths of the forest.

Daleskeld Forest, to be precise. The great woods took their name from the province where they lay. They began here as a pretty border for the creek, but then expanded to the north and east to become a large forest of pine and fir, of oak and elm and beech and sycamore. The hunting was good here, and there were men in the province who made it their livelihoods to go and retrieve pelts so that young women like my cousins could have winter mantles trimmed with fox and beaver and ermine.

But there were also, I’d been told, bears and wolves and badgers, none of whom could precisely be called friendly. Surely it was madness for a young woman to venture there at night, unarmed and unaccompanied, with not even the small comfort of a lantern to guide her way. I could feel the fear begin to rise within me, and I paused for a long moment, wondering if I should go back inside before I truly got myself in trouble.

No, I would not turn back now. If I had intended to allow doubts and fears to prevent me from seeking the reason for my cousins’ disappearance, I should have remained in my bed, eyes shut against the darkness, and sent prayers to the gods that those young women would come home safely.

Still I hesitated, staring into the gloomy woods, only faintly lit by the lowering gibbous moon. In a few more days, that moonlight would be much brighter, but I would have to make do for now. Here, the wind felt stronger, rustling in the trees. For the barest moment, it seemed almost as if I could hear whispered words in the sound of the leaves, words in an unknown language, sibilant and strangely beautiful.

A chill moved down my spine, but my resolve was unshaken. After taking in a breath to steady myself, I moved forward into the woods.

CHAPTER 5

Traversing the path was not as difficult as I had feared it might be. True, there was the occasional fallen branch or patch of weeds, but once I began walking, I found I followed a faint path that wound its way through the trees, taking me deeper and deeper into the forest. From time to time, I would hear a rustling off somewhere in the undergrowth and pause, certain that I was about to set upon by some fierce woodland animal. But nothing ever appeared, and I would make myself go on.

On several occasions an owl flew overhead, one time with the great night bird dipping so close to me that I could feel the rush of cool air as it went past, the great beating of its wings blowing stray strands of hair into my face. Each time I would stop, my heart hammering away in my chest, but of course the owls were not hunting me, but were intent on catching poor small creatures such as voles or mice or perhaps even rats.

And from time to time, the canopy of trees overhead would part just enough to allow more moonlight to flood down onto the path, and I would see those small footprints, leading me ever on into the heart of the forest.

Where in the world were they going? I’d been told that Daleskeld Forest had a number of clearings, and that nearly four miles from the borders of my uncle’s lands, surrounded by pines and firs, was a beautiful lake, almost circular in shape, where one could catch all manner of fish. But I’d also been told that the way there was treacherous, and we girls had never been allowed to venture that far, even if accompanied by some of the household’s guards.

Well, Adalynn and Carella and Theranne and Janessa certainly didn’t have guards with them now.

The ground sloped upward slightly, becoming rockier at the same time. More than once I stumbled, but I did not fall, and that was enough to keep me moving forward. I did wish I had a walking stick — and perhaps a dagger — but I found if I took my time and chose where I stepped, I could manage to keep my footing.

I could not say how long it took to cover that particular patch of ground. It felt interminable, although I guessed it really had not been that great a span of time — perhaps half an hour at most. At last the path leveled out again and became smoother, and I let out a relieved breath, resolving that if I should come this way again, I would bring a walking stick, or at the very least find a fallen branch that would serve the same purpose.

But then all such mundane concerns fled my mind, for the forest opened up into a clearing, and in that clearing were the missing girls.

They stood hand in hand in a circle. As I watched, they moved slowly clockwise, making a complete circuit of that circle, then reversed, going widdershins so they went back to whence they came. There they stopped, then let go of one another’s hands so each of them could spin in place, their nightgowns flowing ghost-like in the moonlight. After they each had spun around three times, they joined hands again and began moving once more in a circle.

All of this activity was accomplished in utter silence. There was something so odd, so eerie about their movements, that although I had intended to call out to them, some deep misgiving stopped me. Even at this distance, I could see the blank expression each of them wore. I had the uncomfortable sensation that even if their eyes should meet mine, I would see no recognition in their gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

An unfamiliar man’s voice, hushed and angry. I whirled, and was confronted by an apparition the likes of which I had never seen before.

My first impression was that he must be elderly, because of the silver-white hair which fell around his face and brushed the high collar of his doublet. But as I stared at the stranger who confronted me, I realized he was probably only a few years older than I, features clear and chiseled and untouched by age. His eyes were as silver-bright as his hair, and seemed to bore into me with a mixture of anger and fear.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, just like his.

He glanced past me to the little group out in the clearing, still performing their strange dance. “That does not matter. What matters is that you should not be here.”

“I do think I should be here,” I responded, moved to protest despite the strangeness of the situation. “Those are my three cousins out there, and Janessa, who is my aunt and uncle’s ward. I came here to see what had happened to them.”

Those silvery eyes narrowed. “How did you come here?”

“By following their footprints on the path,” I replied. “They are very accomplished young women, but they certainly do not possess sufficient woodcraft to cover their tracks.”

This explanation did not appear to do much to ingratiate me with the strange young man. His mouth — which I noted was beautifully sculpted — compressed, and he said, still in the same harsh whisper, “You have put yourself in a great deal of danger by coming here.”

“How? For I have seen no bears, nor wolves or foxes or badgers. The woods are quiet tonight.”

“Of course they are.
He
made sure that nothing would molest your cousins as they came here.”

“He who?” I asked, frankly curious.

Something like fear moved through the stranger’s eyes, and he shook his head. “That does not matter. You must go.”

“I will not,” I said, planting my hands on my hips. “For they are my cousins, and so I have a right to know what you have done to them. They are under some kind of spell, are they not?”

He said quickly, “There is no such thing as spells, or magic.”

But he would not quite look at me, and even though I had never met him before, nor ever seen anyone who shared his odd, fey appearance, I somehow could tell he was lying. I replied, “Oh, I must disagree with you on that, sir, for I have seen such things for myself, and know those who practice the forbidden arts. What else other than a spell would bring my cousins so far from their beds, and make it so they could not remember anything of such excursions the next day?”