Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [19]
It felt wonderful.
Keph sank down beside Jarull, the magesbane-contaminated jars in his satchel clanking together roughly. He turned his head to stare at his friend.
"You were never in Ravens Bluff at all, were you?" he asked. Jarull shook his head. Keph leaned back against the cool of the wall. "What's going on, Jarull?"
"I met a woman," murmured Jarull. He held up his hand and unfolded his fingers to reveal a symbol. Keph stared at it. A simple disk, painted black with a rim of deep purple.
The symbol of Shar, the Mistress of the Night, the Lady of Loss.
Fear shivered through Keph's guts. "Jarull…"
The big man clenched his fist around the disk, hiding it once more.
"I'm not taking it anymore, Keph," he said. "I've had it with my mother trying to control everything I do. I've had it with people looking down on me. I'm going to take what's mine." He glanced down at Keph. "You're sick of having your family and people like Lyraene walk all over you, aren't you, Keph? I know you are. We can do something about that."
He paused and cocked his head just a little bit. Keph looked away from his friend's too-bright eyes. Jarull was silent for a moment, then added, "I'll help you get rid of the last of that magesbane and I'll introduce you to some of my new friends. What do you think?"
He held out his fist, the one with the black and purple symbol wrapped inside. Keph stared at it. Shar…
But it had felt so good to bring down Roderio, at least a little bit.
He reached out and bashed his fist against Jarull's.
CHAPTER 3
Coolie Shoondeep, the chubby high priest of Tymora in Yhaunn, droned on and on about the great shame that came when temple competed with temple. Would it be a great shame, Feena wondered, if she were to stuff an apple from the nearby fruit bowl into his gaping mouth to shut him up? Glancing around the table, she was fairly certain that the leaders of Yhaunn's other major temples would support her. Their eyes were beginning to glaze over as well. He's dull, thought Feena, he's methodical-Moonmaiden's grace, has there ever been a more unlikely priest, of the bold goddess of good fortune?
Maybe not, a part of her responded, but is he any more unlikely a high priest than you are a high priestess?
She grimaced deeply. Mifano, seated just behind and to the right of her, leaned forward.
"What's wrong now?" he murmured in her ear.
"He's driving me crazy," Feena murmured back. "I can't even tell what he's complaining about!"
"The Lady Monstaed's late husband had leased several prime properties in the city to Ladysluck Tower," Mifano explained patiently. "Lady Monstaed recently rejected the renewal of those leases and transferred them, and the rents they provide, to another temple." He cleared his throat. "By the way, you have an appointment with Lady Monstaed tomorrow to thank her for her generosity."
Feena twisted around to stare at him in angry surprise. Her sudden, sharp movement drew the immediate attention of everyone else in the room. Colle broke off his tirade to scowl at her.
"Does the Moonmistress-Designate perhaps have an opinion on this matter?" he asked, eyebrow arched.
"I…" Feena fumbled for words-then shot a beseeching glance at Mifano. He sighed and leaned forward once more, whispering words that she repeated out loud. "I'm sorry to hear of your loss, High Luck. Our temples should stand as united in Yhaunn at large as they do within this council."
If Mifano had spoken the words himself, they would have emerged gracefully, an acknowledgement of Colle's complaint that was soothing without actually being an apology and thus a confession.
From Feena's mouth, they came out as wooden and stilted as a bad lie. Colle's face turned red with rage. Feena bit her tongue. Again. She had been doing it frequently for the past several days.
Dhauna Myritar had given no explanation for her actions at the Full Moon Blessing. She hadn't even spoken to Feena-or