The Mirror of the Moon (Revenant Wyrd Book 2) (38 page)

Through the glass Maeven thought he spied something moving, but he was not sure.

“What now?” Maeven asked as they all walked toward one another. A door leading out to the gardens sat opposite the entrance doors.

“I don’t know,” Jovian was saying, but stopped short as they all ran into a force field separating the right corridor from the left, and consequently Maeven from Angelica and Jovian.

“Looks like
some
one already had a plan,” Angelica said.

“Yeah, and guess who she wants to get to?” Maeven said.

“This could work to our advantage,” Jovian said. “We have two sisters to find, and now we are split up. Maeven, you check that side, we will check this one.”

None of them asked what would happen if any of them found Porillon.

“Sounds like we now have a plan,” Maeven joked, and they all smiled nervously though none of them felt the humor.

As they reached the end of the corridor, and just before turning to the right, Jovian tapped Angelica’s arm pointing toward a shadowed part of the corner where she could barely make out a rough blackened door that, despite the light radiating up from the floor, resembled nothing more than a part of the wall.

 “Should we look up there?” Jovian asked.

“We should look everywhere, but Joya or Amber being hid this close to the entrance is highly unlikely.”

“Very true,” Jovian said. The door didn’t open easy, and after persuading it with his shoulder, and then his boot, the door finally gave.

“What do you think is up here?” Angelica asked. Her mind swayed as she became aware of a presence that was kin to hers but not exactly the same. She shook her head to clear it.

“You felt it too?” he asked as they passed a tall window cut into the side of the bell tower.

“I must go,”
the voice came, echoing seemingly out of the past. The voice sounded hollow, as if they were not hearing the actual voice but a replica of what had been. After slight pause they realized it was Amber.
“I must leave here and …”
The voice trailed off as if she were about to say where she needed to go but then stopped before revealing too much.

Then something else stole Jovian and Angelica’s attention. Glancing at each other, then around them, they recognized another presence here, and as Angelica and Jovian raced up the last few stares to burst into a ransacked, cold room they realized this had been their sisters’ room while staying with Porillon. So she had escaped?

From the look of the bed, it had been recently used, as it was one of the only surfaces not clotted with dirt and grime. She had indeed been here not too long ago. The rest of the room had been searched violently; tables and chairs upturned viciously, some smashed, others merely broken. The bed had also been searched, the blankets laying in tattered clumps on the torn down mattress.

“I have to leave here while the moon is dark and they can’t see.
Amber spoke to their minds again. While the moon was dark? And who? While
who
couldn’t see? Surely she was not just talking about Porillon. While the moon was dark – that would have been about two weeks ago.

“So we are hearing glimpses of the past now?” Angelica asked, and even as she said it they saw the indistinct image of their sister, her amber eyes flashing wildly as she threw a tattered wool cloak about her shoulders and raced for the doorway in which they stood. She vanished before she touched them, and they figured it was then she had run down the stairs.

“If the moon was dark,” she continued. “There is a good chance Joya was not yet here when she left.”

The answer of who wouldn’t see came to them in fleeting images out of the corner of their eyes. The reoccurring image was of a tall white creature, completely bald with slightly monstrous features, wearing a heavy black robe.

“Beckindal,”
they heard a commanding voice say, and they watched as Porillon stepped out of the shadows. The markings on her face writhed lividly, as if marking her anger. Her hazy image gathered at the back of the room as if conjured out of the past.

“Leave the other be. I think she is close to breaking; my wyrd can do the rest now that she is so weak and away from the others. Track the amber-eyed one; I need the medallion she carries.”

“I guess that means Amber did not leave with Joya,” Angelica said.

“It also means that …” Jovian stopped short. There was no doubt Porillon was still within the Mirror of the Moon. He would, in fact, bet his very life that she was still lurking deep within some shadowy depth, and if she was here, there was an even better chance that her ears were everywhere. So it was that he finished the rest of what he was about to say mentally.
It also means that she left the medallion here somewhere, and Porillon does not know about it. Thank the Goddess we only have her to worry about and not Beckindal too.

Wait, what about that boy Maeven knew – Astanel, wasn’t it?
Angelica asked, and her look became intent as she stared about the room.

Angie, I don’t think what you seek is here. There are many rooms within the temple. I am sure we will stumble across the one that is his.

You are right; let’s finish up here and go on. We are not helping anyone looking at the past.

I think we had best look through this room before moving on. There is no telling where Amber hid the medallion.

Good point.
There was, between them, a silent understanding that from now on they would be communicating mentally with one another so that Porillon would not over hear what they did not want her to, unless there was some way for her to intrude on their minds.

A quick inspection of the room found them just as empty-handed as they were when they entered.

So Beckindal is following Amber and there is no trace of Astanel?
Angelica asked.

Yes, but what worries me more is Joya, Porillon did make mention of the other one that was nearly broken – to me that would be Joya, which doesn’t bode well.

Angelica could only sadly agree.

Once out of the tower they continued the path they had started to the next room.

Angelica looked at Jovian, and she reached for the doorknob. Surprisingly it opened without hesitation.

“But she is weeping,”
a young boy protested, and their vision was flooded with a tall blond youth with eyes gazing up at the ceiling of his musty, tattered room. He didn’t have a bed as Amber had, but instead a tangle of blankets that even now lay holey and dirty on the floor.
“I want to go to her,”
he was saying, but no sooner had he said it then he reached to his throat, his eyes going wide like they had the night Porillon attacked them.

It wasn’t until he removed his hand from his throat that they saw the green snake twined around his neck.

“I understand,”
was all he said before coiling his length onto the blankets and rocking himself to sleep.

There were no more visions for them within the room, which looked like it had at one time had been a shrine to the saints. The meager room size was minimized by the countless small tables arranged against the walls. Discarded candles sat at odd angles in the holders, dusty and broken. Some of the tables were in disrepair as the legs were broken off leaving jagged shards and chips of wood laying around the room. Other tables were upended as if the room had been ransacked.

The medallion wasn’t in this room either.

Where is it?
Angelica asked.

That is a question I think only Amber can answer,
Jovian commented as they closed the door and moved on down the pulsing white hall.

The next room, though large, was completely empty, devoid even of furniture. The only thing that occupied, they found upon inspection, was years worth of dust. They rummaged through the room quickly. Having no trappings or evidence of concealed cubbies for the medallion to hide in, they decided Amber had not been in this room at all. In point of fact, they figured no one had been in this room for some time as the dust had not been disturbed until they had entered.

Their hopes crumbled around them as they closed the door and moved on to the last door.

This one looked important as if it were the central place of worship within the temple. This was the place, they knew, that postulants would come to for prayer and scripture. The door sat in the opposite side of the Lunimara from the entrance doors. The doors to the chamber were as grand as those they had passed through on their way into the temple with the difference that they were not locked with wyrded silver vines.

Resolutely Jovian turned the great silver latch shaped like an upside-down crescent moon, the points facing up, and pushed on the door, which whisked open with neither noise nor opposition. Silently they peered into the dark room.

At that very moment another door was being opened within the Mirror of the Moon, this one leading out into the gardens. Maeven had searched the other side of the temple, not finding the well-concealed door to the bell tower designated for Fire and the south. Even if he had found the doorway, it was highly unlikely that he would have found anything in the room above anyway.

From the moment he stepped into the Mirror of the Moon, Maeven knew precisely where he needed to go, for he did have one advantage that the others did not. He was an expert tracker, able to tell what laid down a certain path. This he used tonight, allowing him to find where he needed to go and ultimately Joya.

He veiled his eyes momentarily and let his mind race down the path before him. It was not so much that he was able to instinctively know about the way before him, but more like a part of his mind separated from his body to scout out the route he desired, and with mental eyes he would know what lay the way he wished to go.

He had, not long after having left the company of Angelica and Jovian, saw a glowing silver light through the vine-clotted windows of the central garden.

The light, understandably, drew his attention so that all other rooms and doors passed his vision and only one thing did he focus on: the strange silver light that pulsed within the embrace of those vines, the same light that quickly winked out of existence as he approached the entrance to the grand garden.

The door opened with some difficulty, but with persistence he was able to finally push it open enough to squeeze through. On the far side he glimpsed a figure, one that he recognized, yet was almost beyond recognition.

It was obvious, upon closer inspection, that Joya LaFaye had been beaten rather badly.

As he approached she recognized his wyrd on the air, and she raised her head to smile at him, though it was obvious the effort caused her pain.

“Maeven,” Joya croaked. “If that is truly you, you are a most welcome sight.” Maeven was instantly concerned at the sight of her cheek muscle twitching.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said drawing his boot knife and cutting the bonds at wrist and ankle. Though once standing she had to lean against the wall as half of her body twitched.

“Sorry, I must apologize for my current state of disrepair on account of a crazy white monster making my brain all willy-nilly.” Her statement shut Maeven up instantly and he stared at her hard.

“You were touched by the Verax-Acis?” he asked menacingly.

“I am afraid so,” and if it was not for the dark shape that wheeled out of the sky landing behind Maeven she would have lost her composure.