HM01 Moonspeaker Read online

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  HAEMAS blinked.

  Between one breath and the next, the warm dining hall had gone cold as the winter-wrapped mountains outside—and silent, so mind-numbingly silent. The crackling fire in the great stone hearth had burned down into red coals and the platters heaped with roast ebari and baked whiteroot were mysteriously half-emptied. Two of the delicate green crystal goblets had tipped over and red wine stained the tablecloth like blood.

  She saw her father’s ornately carved chair tumbled on its side, and an icy knot of fear formed in her stomach. Only a second ago, she had been sitting across the table from her stepmother and cousin, half-listening as they discussed the boring details of last night’s gathering at Rald’ayn. She slid out of her seat, confused, then stopped as her toe bumped something soft and yielding.

  She looked down; her father sprawled at the foot of the table on the plush maroon rug, one gnarled finger grazing her boot. Her throat ached. She wanted to run, to scream, to do anything but just stand there, gazing down at his white and empty face.

  “What’s the matter, skivit?” her cousin Jarid asked from behind her. “Having second thoughts?”

  She tried to turn around, but her body wouldn’t answer.

  Jarid walked into her field of vision and nudged her father’s shoulder with his boot. The gray-haired head rolled loosely. “Going after your own father like that . . .” He crossed his arms and smiled his familiar crooked smile, as always, in perfect control. “And at such a tender age, too, only fifteen. Not even properly Named. Whatever will the Council say?”

  Every muscle in her body ached with her effort to move. “I don’t understand.” Her voice was only a hoarse whisper. “What’s wrong with him? What—what happened?”

  Jarid arched a golden eyebrow. “You killed him, of course. I always knew it would come to this.”

  A drop of ice-cold sweat trickled down her temple as she fought to move and failed. He must have a mindlock on her motor centers. “Let me go!”

  “Before the Council arrives?” His voice was mocking. “I think not, my girl.”

  She closed her eyes and reached for every bit of psionic strength she possessed, trying to break Jarid’s hold. Time blurred as she hurled herself against her cousin’s will, but he was so much older and better trained, she found herself lost in a red haze of pain.

  “Damnation!” She heard his voice from a great distance away. “Who would have thought it?”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  Alyssa, Haemas thought, sliding down a long blackness that was her stepmother’s voice.

  Jarid answered, but she could not make out the words.

  “Then do it!” Alyssa’s voice was also fading. “Let the Barrier k . . . her, the sooner, the bet . . .”

  * * *

  The Desalayan mountainside, littered with jagged gray rock, sloped sharply down from Haemas’s feet. Her boot slipped and the falling chaff echoed hollowly across the mountains. Her startled breath puffed white in the chill air. Shivering, she hunched against an exposed rock-face and stared about with bewildered eyes.

  The orange sun hung low in the west, the sky a riot of rose and gold. She thought she recognized the rolling, soft green valley far below. She must be about halfway down the outward face of Kith Shiene, the sheltering mountain that stood between the Highlands and the outside world, but only a second ago, she had been in the dining hall with Jarid. She tried to remember how she had come here, but a fevered pounding began behind her eyes and the details retreated behind an impenetrable curtain. She felt sick, dizzy, unreal. Then, out of the confusion, one compelling certainty leaped at her: she must get away. When the Council learned she had killed her father, the punishment would be death!

  Below, oversized pale-blue psi-active ilsera crystals had been embedded into the mountainside, each one as big as the head of a full-grown man. Since the first handful of Kashi had realized what their developing Talents meant and seeded themselves into these mountains in order to remain apart and stabilize their gene pool, the non-Talented chierra had remained below, breeding themselves randomly and overrunning the land. The Barrier had been erected to prevent the chierras’ superior numbers from invading the Highlands.

  The crystals shimmered as she approached, triggered by her brainwaves, and her heart began to pound. She had entered the Barrier once before, several years ago, as part of her training, but it had been a wrenching experience.

  She clenched her hands and edged into the pulsing blueness, trying to shield her mind from the Barrier-generated pain as she had been taught. At the first touch of the light, though, she doubled over and struggled for breath. A raw, scalding agony burned through her body, relentless as an avalanche. She clenched her hands and fought against the pain, but it was as though she’d never learned to shield, as though she weren’t Kashi at all.

  Her breath came in aching gasps as she inched downward, focusing on the need to keep moving above everything else. The frigid mountain wind blasted through her thin indoor clothing, but she was quickly drenched in sweat. With each step, the pain thickened until a red haze swirled behind her eyes. Every comfort she had ever known in her life, every affection, every certainty, seemed distant and unreal.

  Her foot slipped. She lost her balance, slid, then tumbled several yards over dirt and loose rock, her right shoulder coming up hard on a jagged outcropping. Throbbing and bloody, she clung to it until her sight cleared slightly, then, taking a ragged breath, lurched back onto her feet and stumbled on. When she finally reached the far edge of the blue shimmer, the false agony gradually faded, but the pain in her wrenched shoulder remained.

  Shivering, she edged ever downwards.

  * * *

  Ten hours now, Jarid thought, and still the Lord of Tal’ayn lingered on that indistinct sill between life and death. His aunt by marriage, the Lady Alyssa, had sent for the best healers from every High House, but they said nothing more could be done.

  Jarid watched as the remaining eleven High Lords stood around his uncle’s bedside in tense silence, their bent heads ranging from sun-bright gold to the palest silver.

  “And you say the seneschal is dead, my Lady?” Lord Rald turned to the young white-faced mistress of Tal’ayn.

  Alyssa nodded, her golden eyes narrowed with anger. “Jarid found the body in the same room, not even cold, and my husband was as you see him.” She reached down a trembling hand and brushed the cheek of the unconscious gray-haired man in the great-canopied bed.

  Lord Senn patted the woman’s slender shoulder. “What of his daughter, the Lady Haemas?”

  “Gone.” Alyssa’s bitter voice choked. “I have Searched for her myself, but she seems to have fled Outside.”

  “You’re sure it was her?” Rald leaned one arm against the mantel and shook his head. “If I remember correctly, the child is only fourteen or fifteen.”

  “She’s fifteen.” Aaren Killian’s pale gold eyes met Jarid’s for a heart-stopping second, then turned away, dismissing him. “Tal and I have already agreed on a marriage contract. She will marry my oldest son, Kimbrel, as soon as she’s Named in a few weeks.”

  His oldest son. Jarid’s jaw tightened. Someday he would make Killian regret refusing to acknowledge his birth. He shoved through the onlookers to Alyssa’s side and took her arm. “What difference does it make how old my wretched cousin is? I saw her do it!”

  “Jarid Tal Ketral, isn’t it?” Rald nodded at him. “I remember you from the Council’s last Temporal Conclave. You were quite promising, if I recall correctly.”

  So the old fool had noticed him, Jarid thought
behind his tightly woven screens. He was careful not to let the inner smile reach his lips. The rest of these old fossils had better learn to pay attention to him as well or he’d displace the whole lot.

  Rald drew his ebari-leather gloves out of his belt and thrust his right hand into one. “Well, of course she must be found. I’m sure we’re all agreed on that. We can’t afford to have even a half-trained traitor of that age running wild among the Lowland chierra. Who knows what ideas might get into their heads? It could even breed rebellion. They’re barely kept in check as it is.”

  The others nodded. Senn turned back to the younger man. “Then we will trust you, Jarid, to look after things here at Tal’ayn.” He hesitated, gazing down at the ashen face of the injured man. “Both of your uncle’s brothers are dead and the line has thinned out so much in recent generations that, with the girl missing, the question of succession is unclear. In spite of everything, you might even have a claim on the estate yourself.”

  Jarid’s face burned. He felt the simmering rage that rose to the surface every time the question of his parentage came up. His mother, Danih, had been a weak, sentimental fool and it seemed the whole Highlands knew how she had cuckolded her husband, then foisted an unwanted Killian bastard on her brother, before having the sense to die.

  He glanced at the bold profile of the Lord of Killian’ayn. Killian was tall and angular, with piercing pale gold eyes, much the same shade as Jarid’s. The other man peered intently down at the still figure on the bed, seeming not to even notice Jarid.

  Alyssa held out her hands to Lord Senn and bent her head to be kissed.

  “You have my blessing in this time of sorrow, Granddaughter,” Senn said softly. “I grieve that such tragedy comes so soon after your marriage into this fine old House.” He pressed his old lips to her smooth forehead. “Twenty-three is terribly young to be widowed.”

  Alyssa tightened her fingers over his hands. “Perhaps, the Light willing, that will not come, Grandfather.”

  Senn looked around the circle of powerful men, all fellow Househeads. “A Searcher must be sent to the Lowlands to bring back the girl.”

  Again the heads nodded. Jarid watched them closely without detecting the least shade of suspicion in their surface thoughts.

  The Council filed out, Senn waiting until last. He touched Alyssa’s cheek. “I’ll contact Shael’donn and arrange for the Search,” he said quietly. “You just tend to your husband.”

  She nodded, seeming to swallow back her tears, and gave him a wan smile.

  Senn nodded. “It will be all right.” He opened the door and followed the rest. Jarid walked beside him up the main stairs to the family courtyard.

  The mountain wind drove chill raindrops into their faces as, one by one, each Council member stepped onto the covered platform, inset above and below and on the four midpoints with pale-blue ilsera crystals, wrenched the energies into alignment with their destination and disappeared.

  Jarid turned around and saw Alyssa’s green-gold eyes staring at him from the open doorway.

  “They knew!” She drew her thick black silsha-fur cloak closer around her body as he approached.

  He took her shoulders in his hands and drew her back into the covered stairwell. “They did not know.” He pushed a lock of burnished-gold hair out of his face. “And watch what you say out here. You know the walls have ears.”

  Alyssa jerked away from his hands and glided down the worn stone stairs. Chierra ears, her voice said in his mind. Those can be quite easily taken care of.

  Don’t take them so lightly, Aunt.” Jarid followed, his heavy outdoor boots echoing hollowly down the long stairwell. It was chierra ears, after all, that spoiled our plan. He held the door open at the base of the stairs and she brushed past into the main house.

  A chierra serving woman, stooped over her scrubbing, moved hastily out of their way, bowing her head as the two Kashi passed.

  Jarid caught sight of her reddened eyes. It was old Jayna, Pascar’s wife. Still mourning her husband, the seneschal, he supposed.

  Alyssa jerked off the heavy cloak, threw it across the wall rack, and swept by the old woman without even noticing.

  He followed Alyssa’s black-clad back along the corridors to the family wing. Inside the spacious apartment, he cast his mind about for other presences, but there was only Alyssa and himself, if one didn’t count old Tal and the chierra nurse in the main bedchamber.

  Alyssa gripped her fingers together and glared at him. I told you this would never work! She paced to the window and looked out into the growing dusk. They could read us—they know!

  Don’t be such a coward! Jarid walked into her private bedchamber, then threw himself backwards on the rich, gold-worked spread. Are you sure you’re really a Senn?

  Lineage is your problem, my dear, not mine! She followed him inside, locking the heavy door, then pressed her back against it, watching him like a bavval on the hunt.

  Blood pounded in his temples, but he held onto his anger, hiding it deep inside. Alyssa was an idiot, but he couldn’t afford to let go, not yet, not with so much at stake. He took a steadying breath. They didn’t know. On my part, I radiated shock and outrage, and you, of course, were properly subdued and grief-stricken. He folded his hands behind his bright hair and smiled. In a little while, we can send Uncle on to the Light, and then I will simply make myself indispensable running this great House and all its lands.

  And our marriage? She fingered the embroidered red flowers on the collar of her black gown. Her golden eyes, shot through with green streaks, narrowed, following his every move.

  In time, he replied, after my uncle has been properly mourned. He reached up and seized her wrist, pressing his lips to her warm white skin. Now, my boots, wench!

  She resisted his strength for a moment, then collapsed against his broad chest, laughing and knocking him back across the wide bed.

  He laid a finger across her soft red lips. Although we must be careful for now, we can still enjoy ourselves.

  She stood and braced herself, tugging on one of his gleaming black boots. And the brat?

  Lying back, Jarid sighed as the boot slipped off. He wriggled his liberated toes. My sweet cousin? Don’t worry about her.

  Alyssa dropped the boot to the floor, then took hold of his other foot and strained backwards, stumbling as the second boot gave. She threw it to the floor beside its mate.

  Jarid pulled his long legs back up on the bed. We’ll make certain to find her before the Searcher and then she’ll meet with an unfortunate accident too. Such a sad story. He stretched and settled comfortably on the pillows.

  Alyssa sat on the bedside looking down into his face. Then she leaned over and snuggled against his chest.

  Jarid took her shoulders and flipped her roughly over on her back. His eyes, pale as newly drifted sand, bored down into her more golden ones. Everything is going as planned.

  * * *

  Hunched on the downward side of a scraggly, wind-stunted tree, Haemas tried to think. Her shoulder still throbbed and her right arm was all but useless. She pressed her cheek against the tree’s rough bark and told herself she had to go on.

  Far below, a tiny glittering ribbon of silver threaded the broad valley floor. A river, she thought, trying to imagine it something like the rushing mountain streams she knew, only much wider. The darker blue-green of trees dominated the sloping sides of the valley, with the valley’s center a patchwork of bare brown fields and green pastures.

  Her eyes drifted shut as she tried to imagine the people down there. They would look like the chierra who had served her all her life, but these would be free, paying tribute to the Kashi Mountain Lords, but not service. They would be uniformly dark, none of them possessing golden eyes and hair, the genetic tag heralding the presence of Talent in her kind. Their eyes would be brown, unreadable chierra eyes.
They would have only five fingers and five toes, not six like the People of the Light, and they would be both head-deaf and head-blind, as she seemed to be now.

  Left-handedly, she pulled herself onto her feet and started downward again. Before her, the early evening sky was a creamy gray-green, the suspended sun orange and huge. Through the pain in her shoulder, the air already seemed warmer, but she thought she might just be imagining that.

  Far above she suddenly heard the sharp crack of falling rock. Glancing upwards, she saw nothing, but quickened her pace. The darkness thickened as she picked her way down. Scattered stars pierced the night sky, cool and disinterested.

  Then she felt just the slightest feathery brush against her thoughts. Heedless of the rocks, Haemas hurled her aching body to the ground, stretching out in the chill dirt and grass, trying to blank her mind, thinking only of dirt and rock and the cold evening air, trying not to remember her father’s still white face.

  Somewhere up above in the Highlands, someone was casting a mental net for her, but she dared not look. She could only press against the cold ground in the darkness until, at some point, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  Fear . . . pain . . . wrenching sorrow. Summerstone drifted on the cool night breeze through the forest, reaching for the faraway traces of strongly broadcast thought. There! She located the source far away on the side of the mountain, a small one of power, such as never came down into the lower altitudes alone. And it felt young, still malleable, perhaps enough so that they could make it understand the coming danger before it was too late.

  Listen, she said to her sister. Do you hear?

  Windsign coalesced her scattered body and steadied herself against a gray-blue trunk. Her smooth green head cocked. Yes, but it is so far away. We will never get there before the males take it back to the high places.