Mistress of the Night by Don Bassingthwaite; Dave Gross

Author:Don Bassingthwaite; Dave Gross
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy fiction, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Fiction, Fantasy, American, General, Forgotten realms (Imaginary place)
ISBN: 9780786933464
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 2004-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Full night had finally fallen. Moonshadow Hall had slipped, if not into slumber, then at least into the uncomfortable quiet that followed in the wake of horror. Through her window, Feena could hear Dhauna's intermittent shrieks and inarticulate curses as they echoed up from the infirmary and across the inner courtyard.

She closed her eyes for a moment and murmured, "Forgive me."

Feena crossed to the door of her chamber-old sandals making no noise on the floor, homespun skirt and linen blouse whispering around her body-and opened the door.

Outside, Jhezzail started. Feena bit back a wince. She'd expected there would be someone watching her door. She'd hoped it wouldn't be someone she liked.

"Be at ease," she said.

One hand made a sign. The other touched her medallion. Jhezzail's eyes widened for a moment as Selune's magic took hold of her, then drooped and softened, her fear washed away. Her arms fell down to her sides. She didn't move as Feena approached, but her eyes followed her closely.

"Velsinore commanded me to watch your door and summon her if you came out," the acolyte said with utter calm.

"I guessed that," Feena replied. "What's been happening in the temple?"

"I don't know. I've been here all evening. I think Velsinore and Mifano have been in the infirmary with Mother Dhauna."

"And Julith?"

"They shut her out. She's waiting in the winter chapel." A spark glimmered in Jhezzail's placid eyes and she added, "She asked me to let her know if you came out."

Of course, Feena thought. Julith would do that.

Feena raised her chin and said, "Thank you, Jhezzail. I'm sorry I have to do this." Before the acolyte could react, she thrust out her fingers once more. "Bright Lady of Night," she prayed, "hold her fast!"

The calm in Jhezzail's eyes flashed in alarm, but it was too late. The power of the spell locked her muscles and joints, paralyzing her. Feena acted swiftly, darting back into her room and emerging with the patiently torn strips that had been her bed linens. The calming spell had been necessary to draw information out of the acolyte, but neither it nor the spell of holding would last long. Feena gagged Jhezzail first, then swiftly lashed her arms to her body. Grasping her tightly, she dismissed the magic. Jhezzail's muscles sagged.

The girl struggled, but Feena hoisted her over one shoulder and carried her quickly into her chamber. She dumped her on the bed, then grabbed her legs, forcing them together so she could bind them. Behind her gag, Jhezzail was screaming. The torn cloth turned the wails into a high-pitched whine.

"I'm sorry, Jhezzail," Feena apologized. "I truly am. I admire your faith. Please tell Julith that I think you'll be a great priestess someday."

Long strips of fabric bound the acolyte to the bed frame so she couldn't roll off. Jhezzail's eyes were wild with fear. Feena turned away to avoid meeting them.

She shut the door of the chamber but didn't try to lock or block it. When other acolytes or clergy realized Jhezzail was gone from her post, it would be easy enough for them to rescue her.

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