Mistress of the Night (The Priests) by Don Bassingthwaite & Dave Gross

Author:Don Bassingthwaite & Dave Gross [Bassingthwaite, Don]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786964246
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

“I’ve heard back from the various followers of Selûne who help us keep watch for Sharran activity around Yhaunn,” Julith said.

Feena glanced at her as they paced through the corridors of Moonshadow Hall. “And?” she asked.

“Nothing—not around the Stiltways, not anywhere. If there are Sharrans in the city, they’re keeping very, very quiet.”

Feena gave the younger priestess a faint smile and said, “I notice that you’re not ruling out their presence all together.”

“You saw what you saw,” Julith said, “and caution never hurts.” She returned Feena’s glance. “I discovered something else, though. After your encounter, Mifano never even bothered to check with the watchers.”

Feena pressed her lips together. “Too sure of his own assessment of the situation, I suspect. Did the watchers have anything to say about …” She grimaced. “Anything else?”

“The Stiltways are humming with stories of werewolves,” Julith replied. “The tales have spread a little bit into the city at large, but seem to be mostly dismissed as drunken ravings. No one except High Luck Shoondeep seems to have made any connection to you, though.”

“I hope it stays that way,” Feena said bitterly.

After her experience at the Cutter’s Dip three nights before, she had hastened back to Moonshadow Hall, sticking to Yhaunn’s more brightly lit streets. A quick leap over the kitchen wall had brought her back to safety once more—but it hadn’t been until she’d collapsed into a chair in Julith’s room that the harrowing danger had really hit her. She’d tracked the servants of Malar in Arch Wood, even fought vampires in Selgaunt, but a mob of unarmed drunks had almost brought her down. Feena had given fervent thanks to Selûne for her deliverance—even if it had been at the arrogant hands of Keph Thingoleir—and paid serious attention to Julith when she suggested that maybe another approach was needed.

Even if that approach failed to yield results, it was better than risking her furry skin chasing Sharrans that might or might not exist. Besides, with Julith to support her, there was more than enough to keep her busy around Moonshadow Hall.

They approached a door that opened onto the cloisters.

“Ready?” asked Julith.

Feena smoothed the simple pale blue gown that the seamstress had prepared for her and checked the silver web in her hair.

“Ready,” she said.

Julith pulled open the door. Feena walked through, passed across the shaded walkway, and stepped out into the golden light of afternoon that flooded the courtyard.

Around Selûne’s sacred pool, a group of about a dozen people were gathered: representatives of the city’s merchants, craft guilds, the Nessarch’s office, and the high priests and priestesses of the council of temples—even Colle Shoondeep. Velsinore and Mifano were there as well, Mifano making restrained conversation with various people while Velsinore kept a critical eye on the acolytes who moved among the group, offering chilled wine.

“Thank you all for coming,” Feena called.

Conversation stilled and faces turned toward her as she walked across the grass. The acolytes made a silent, graceful exit, except for one who quickly brought wine to Feena and Julith before departing.

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