Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) (41 page)

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Authors: Sharon Shinn

BOOK: Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses)
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The freighter was squinting up at the sky and wearing an expression of concern. “Be dark in an hour or two,” he said. “We got such a late start—not a chance we’ll make it out of the forest by nightfall.”
 
 
He handed Ellynor a heavy, shifting bag. Dried beans, maybe. She altered her grip on it, pretending she didn’t have a secure hold, and then set it on the ground and adjusted her robes. She wanted to hear the rest of this conversation.
 
 
“You afraid of traveling in the dark, Jenkins?” one of the convent guards asked, sounding amused. “Even when the moon’s practically whole?”
 
 
“Damn it, I am!” Jenkins replied, a little ruefully. “Almost got killed by a wolf one night—three, four years back—ever since, I just don’t care for journeying by moonlight.”
 
 
“Room in the barracks,” the other guard said thoughtfully. “You couldn’t go roaming, though.”
 
 
“No, no, we’d stay put,” Jenkins said.
 
 
“Well, you could step outside the building, maybe as far as the training yard. No farther.”
 
 
“You sure about this?” the first guard objected. “Don’t recall that we’ve housed visitors before.”
 
 
“Oh, sure. Mostly in winter, when the roads are bad and daylight’s so short. You can check with Koban first if you want, though.”
 
 
“I think I’d better.” He hurried off toward the back of the compound where the barracks and the training yard could be found.
 
 
“Don’t worry,” the remaining guard said nonchalantly. “You can stay the night.”
 
 
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Jenkins glanced at Justin. “That do for you? Do you need to hurry home? Forgot to ask.”
 
 
Justin shook his head. “I’m clear. Not expected back till tomorrow afternoon.”
 
 
Ellynor thought she didn’t draw a single breath during the next fifteen minutes, as she and the other girls carried bundles into the kitchen, then went back outside for more, and everyone waited for final word on whether the visitors could spend the night. Finally, finally, the first guard came jogging up, his expression relieved.
 
 
“Koban says they can stay,” he reported. “Bunk in the barracks. Eat with us, too.”
 
 
“Good news,” the freighter said. “Damn, it’ll be dark in an hour! I hate winter. Don’t mind the cold so much, but I can’t stand the dark.”
 
 
Ellynor, who all this time had helped Jenkins unload his packhorses, now turned casually toward Justin’s string and watched as he hauled down a package wrapped in brown paper. It was solid but not too heavy; a round of cheese, she thought. She held her arms out for it and he carefully handed it over.
 
 
She allowed her eyes to lift to his face for just a second, knowing he would be watching her, waiting for her signal.
Midnight
, she mouthed. He nodded infinitesimally and turned instantly away, pulling out something else from his saddle-bags. Ellynor carried the cheese into the kitchen and stood there a moment, shaking. If her heart were to beat any faster, any harder, it would hammer its way out past her ribs and she would die of fear right here, right now.
 
 
Fear. And excitement.
 
 
IT was a simple matter for Ellynor to leave the courtyard with all the other novices who had formed the moon shape— tonight, just a sliver past full—and step inside the building with the rest of them. Simple for her to mention that she was hungry and head on back toward the kitchen while the others turned for the stairs. Any number of people were still awake in the convent at midnight. They were, after all, women who worshipped a night goddess. Some of their prayers and rituals could only be performed in the darkest hours. The Lestra, it was said, often stayed awake the whole night through, scribbling in her study or wandering the grounds under the direct eye of the Silver Lady. Surely Ellynor did not want to run into
her
.
 
 
So she cloaked herself in a veil of secrecy, the Black Mother’s gift, and drifted through the hallways like an only slightly corporeal shadow. Now and then she heard voices, a few rooms back, and footsteps from overhead or down another hallway, but she did not encounter anyone. The kitchen was empty and the door yielded silently to her hand. No one stood in the denuded garden, breathing in the star-chilled air. No one lurked along the pathways that connected the great hulking structure of the convent proper to the scattering of buildings in the back of the compound, where the guards were housed and the horses were kept.
 
 
Where novices were not supposed to go.
 
 
Justin would not have strayed far from the barracks, a long, low, utilitarian building that looked out over the training yard. If he had managed to win free at all, which he might not have, he would have stuck close to the territory outlined for him as permissible. This was hardly the time and place to go exploring, no matter how curious he might be about his surroundings. If a guard came across him, outdoors at this hour, he would have to appear as innocent as possible.
 
 
But he might not have been able to creep out. He might have been too closely watched—he might not have the skills of stealth that came so naturally to her. He might not be there at all.
 
 
But he was.
 
 
She saw him before he saw her, even though she was moving and he was standing still. He was leaning against the slat-tedfence that enclosed the training yard, staying as close to the stables as he could to take advantage of what cover the building afforded. He was in profile to her, so that half his attention could be on the barracks in case anyone was searching for him, and half of it could go toward listening for her approach. She paused a moment, just to take the chance to truly look at him, drink in the sight of the face that she had been so certain she would never see again. Sweet Mother, when had he become so dear to her? When had she fallen in love with him?
 
 
She moved closer, silently, she thought, but he turned his head as if a sound had caught his notice. She could see his eyes scanning all approaches—he even looked straight at her—but the goddess’s power was stronger than human eyesight. He could not see her. Ellynor stepped closer, even more daintily, and saw a frown cross his face. He was concentrating so hard that he could hear her slippered feet in the brown grass, or her breathing, or her heartbeat. He knew she was near.
 
 
But she was still invisible to him as she placed a hand on his arm and spoke his name. She had thought to startle him, but she guessed wrong. His hand closed over hers and he drew her against him so swiftly she didn’t even have time to gasp. She loosed and reformed her night-dark cloak, and now he was standing inside it with her, both of them safe from the eyes of outsiders, sheltered in the arms of the goddess.
 
 
“Ellynor,” Justin said, and bent in to kiss her.
 
 
She couldn’t help herself; she pressed herself into that kiss as if he was light and air and she had been deprived of both for a lifetime. Only for a moment. She pulled back, hard, her hands against his chest. He caught her by the shoulders before she could move too far away.
 
 
“Justin, what are you
doing
here?” she demanded in a furious whisper. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is?”
 
 
“Dangerous how?” he shot back, raising his chin and showing every evidence of stubbornness. “A man asks if he can hire me to help deliver goods, and I accept on good faith, and I do my part of the job. I’m here, and no one cares that I’m here. What’s wrong with that?”
 
 
She stared at him in the dark. His face was as clear to her as if they were standing under a noon sun. “Don’t pretend,” she whispered. “You came here to see
me
. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
 
 
He grinned. “Well, of course. Wouldn’t have taken the job if you weren’t here. But I didn’t do any harm by coming.”
 
 
She wanted to hit him, or shake him, or scream out her fear and fury. But the first two options wouldn’t have budged him, and the last would have had dire consequences. “Justin.
You can’t come here to see me
. You can’t. You have to stay away from me. You have to stay away from the convent.”
 
 
He shrugged. “Well, I won’t. I want to see you. I want to know you’re all right. You don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to meet me in the middle of the night. Just stand in the window or the courtyard or the kitchen garden and let me get a look at you, make sure you’re still breathing and you’ve got no broken bones. And I’ll deliver my goods, and mount back up on my horse, and ride on out.”
 
 
He would, too. She could tell by the set of his mouth, his obdurate stance. This was a man it was impossible to turn aside once he had decided on a course of action.
 
 
What would he do, what would he say, when she told him she could never see him again?
 
 
She could not have that conversation, now, tonight, on the convent grounds, with so many hostile parties so close and probably wakeful. She could not warn him away, she could not lie to him, she could not make him believe that she did not love him.
 
 
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said, but now her voice was gentle, full of some of the wonder she felt. That he would come so far just for a glimpse of her, just to assure himself that she was safe. “Whoever you are, I can’t rid myself of the feeling that you are no friend to the Lestra, and that she and her men would do something terrible to you if they found you inside this compound.”
 
 
Now his face showed amusement. “I was here once before, and they didn’t like me much then,” he admitted. “But I’m being more careful this time.”
 
 
“You can’t come back.”
 
 
“Then you have to come to Neft.”
 
 
She shook her head. “I have no control over that.”
 
 
“Then I’ll be here again. Look for me.”
 
 
“Justin—” she said, having absolutely no idea how to finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to. He pulled her back into his embrace and kissed her, and she lost any interest in forming a coherent sentence. Nothing mattered except his arms around her body, his lips against her mouth. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, nothing lived, except the two of them in their dark and secret circle.
 
 
Eventually they broke apart, just a little—pulling back just enough to watch each other’s face—it was cold enough that they actually needed each other’s body heat to stay warm. Idly, they began to talk, sharing the tales of their recent days. More friends of Justin’s had passed through Neft, and he was careful not to use their names, for some reason, but she got the impression one of them was a woman. Oddly, she didn’t feel the same hot jealousy she had felt when he mentioned the beautiful Kirra. Maybe he had a different relationship with this particular woman—or maybe Ellynor no longer worried that Justin’s heart was bestowed elsewhere.
 
 
She told him about Rosurie and her unnerving desire to offer a sacrifice to the Pale Mother. “Is she the kind of person who just talks about things and never does anything, or is she the kind who follows through?” he wanted to know.
 
 
“Follows through. Usually in the most dramatic fashion possible.”
 
 
“Then nothing you say is going to be able to stop her. Just step back. Don’t let her drag you with her into whatever conflagration she starts.”
 
 
Better advice than she had been able to give herself, and she was comforted by his practical words. Imagine how restful it would be to always rely on Justin to help her solve problems big and little. “I’ll hope that this time it’s a small and personal fire,” she said, joking.
 
 
He had loosened her braid so that her hair fell free all the way past her waist, and now he was stroking his hands slowly, rhythmically, down her back, allowing plaits of hair to slip through his spread fingers. He had done the same thing back in Neft; he seemed fascinated by the feel and texture and pattern of her hair. “It doesn’t sound to me like she’s going to be ready to leave the convent anytime soon,” he said, his voice as slow and deliberate as his caress. “Would you be willing to leave without her? If you decided you wanted to? If you became uneasy enough about unfolding events?”

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