Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [83]
"You can do that." Feena stretched out her arm, and Keph gave her the bottle. "Wouldn't Mifano and Velsinore love to see this? As if they didn't have enough to turn against me, I'm sitting and drinking wine with a Sharran."
Keph snorted and said, "Just this morning, I wouldn't have even thought about having wine with a Selunite. Let alone the werewolf who killed Cyrume."
Feena growled under her breath and bared her teeth.
"The Sharran at the well in the Stiltways?" she said. "I didn't kill him."
Keph looked at her, surprised.
"But everyone says-"
"If I'd had to," Feena said. "I would have. He was going to poison that well." She drank from the bottle. "But I didn't have to. He killed himself rather than face me. He died with Shar's name on his lips. I didn't touch him. But Moonmaiden's grace, I'd like to know who did! It's almost as if I were being set up." She took another sip and set the bottle aside. "Why would this Cyrume try to poison the well anyway?"
"As an act of devotion to Shar, I suppose," Keph said sourly. "We-" His face twisted. "Sharrans are supposed perform a dark deed at least once every tenday. Jarull said poisoning the well was Variance's idea. Apparently the cult was smaller and a lot less aggressive before she came along."
"That would probably explain why Moonshadow Hall had no idea they were in the city." Feena stared back at the stain of Yhaunn. "Where did she come from?"
"Jarull says the Temple of Old Night beneath Calimport."
Feena's eyes narrowed. "I've heard rumors about that place. It's supposed to be the ancient seat of Sharran power, the oldest of Shar's temples."
"Bolan and Jarull never said much about it. They just went really quiet whenever they mentioned it."
"Jarull…" Feena glanced at Keph. "Your friend seems to have taken to his conversion zealously."
"I guess he has," Keph said. "What am I going to do, Feena? Have I damned myself over stupid revenge?"
Feena sighed again and rubbed her medallion between her fingers.
"I don't really know," she said. "I'm no philosopher. For what it's worth, I don't think you did anything wrong. Think about the initiation Bolan put you through. You swore no oaths. The sacrifice you made was only an illusion. And you're repentant. There's hope, I think." "And what I did to Lyraene?"
Feena said, "That you'll have to live with, Keph. It was no noble act. You'll carry the stain of it for the rest of your life."
"I guess I have to expect that," Keph replied. He stared out at the distant, dark horizon. "But what about the orison? I felt Shar's power, and I channeled it…"
"You couldn't have." Feena scowled. "A priest has to take oaths and training. It sounds too easy, too convenient. It must have been some trick. There's a spell that lets a priestess share the power of her faith with someone else. If Variance worked that on you, it might have felt like you were casting an orison when it was really Variance's magic." She closed her eyes and scrubbed her knuckles against her forehead. "The thing you have to fear is Shar's cult, not the goddess herself."
The young man blinked. "I shouldn't be running?"
"Oh, you should be running," Feena said. She opened her eyes again and gave him a long look. "They've gone to a lot of trouble to seduce you. They're up to something, and like you say, I don't think they'll give up easily."
Keph exhaled slowly and shuddered. He leaned back, stretching out on the grass and staring up at the star-speckled sky.
"What if I came to Arch Wood with you?" he asked after a moment. "Just for a little while. The Sharrans won't think to look for me there, will they?"
Feena groaned, "Oh, aye. That should cause some talk. I go aWay and come back with a man ten years younger than me and a price on my head in Yhaunn…" She looked at him and asked, "Are you so sure you want to travel with a werewolf who'll tear into her oldest friends?"
For a moment, Keph was silent, then he rolled over onto his side to look into her eyes.
"For what it's worth," he said, "I don't think you did