Mistress of the Night - Don Bassingthwaite [96]
It vanished down the cross-corridor. The wolf-voice guiding her gave a short, commanding bark: Keep moving!
Feena moved on. The whispers faded again and after a moment Feena realized that even if she couldn't see or smell the wolf guiding her, she could hear it. Nails clicked in rapid rhythm ahead of her-and behind her! Two sets behind her, in fact. Feena twisted her neck to look past her flanks. Two wolves were pacing after her, one light gray and lean, the other white and heavier, with the bright eyes of a young animal.
Her racing heart stuttered. She had never seen these wolves before, yet she knew their names:
Niree Swifthands.
Brant Hallower.
The black wolf that had defended her: Rade.
The voice that called her, the gray tail she'd first glimpsed, was Tyver the Peacemaker.
It was the last of the New Moon Pact, She stumbled, and Niree darted forward and nipped at her legs. Feena jumped forward. The corridor gave one last twist and opened up.
She was back at the reading table. The moon glow of the paperweight had returned, though, and the paperweight itself was sitting on the table once more. The gouged floor and the shattered bookshelf had been restored. Everything was exactly the way it had been.
Except that two women-Enshu Venerun and Qualise Domo, she knew intuitively-and a man stood waiting for her by the table. Feena slid to a sharp stop, her paws scrabbling against the floor. The man, Tyver in his human form, crouched down to face her. He took her hand-abruptly she was human again-and helped her stand. His grip was cold but firm.
"Have faith and be strong, Feena Archwood," he said, "for Selune is with you."
Feena gasped with sudden certainty. "Dhauna's dreams-they were real! They were warnings!"
"They are real," said Qualise. "They're your dreams now, High Moonmistress."
"I'm not-" Feena began to protest, but her voice froze. The rite had been performed. Dhauna had named her successor-and with her death, the mantle of leadership passed on.
Feena swallowed and said, "Moonmaiden grant me strength."
"The strength is in you," said Qualise. "Understand that and you understand much."
She stepped aside so that Feena could see the table. The great white book that detailed the pact's trial was gone. In its place was another, slim and elegant instead of bloated and thick. Feena stared at it in wonder. The new book was bound in fine black leather with Selune's phases set in silver down the center of the cover. Where other representations of the phases began with a crescent and grew through half and gibbous to the full moon's bright disk before returning to a crescent, the black book turned that order inside out. On its cover, the full moon shone at the top, shrinking to gibbous, then to the half moon, then to a crescent. In the center of the cover, a hair-thin ring of silver made an empty circle-the new moon.
Somewhere close, the tide of whispers was growing again. She twisted around. Rade had joined Niree and Brant. All three wolves faced outward, a growling wall of fangs and muscle. Feena spun back to the other members of the vanished pact.
"What is the darkness?" she asked. "Was Dhauna right? Is it heresy? Does Selune really want the New Moon Pact reborn to fight heresy in her faith?"
"Yes and no," said Tyver. "No and yes," said Qualise.
"All things come," said Enshu, "in their proper time." Feena looked at her. She was a stout woman with a strong face crossed by a scar. She reached out thick hands and drew Feena forward, guiding her to the chair beside the table. "Dhauna Myritar tried to move too fast. Now your time is too short."
"I don't understand," Feena gasped.
The whispers pressed in on all sides. The New Moon Pact was pulling together to make a circle around her. A look of urgency crossed Enshu's face.
"Some things should never be understood," she snarled- and shoved Feena hard back into the chair.
Feena woke to voices. Real voices.
All thought of the dream vanished. Someone was at the door of the archives. No-more than just someone.