Mistress of the Night Read Online Free

wasn't dressed quite so fancifully as Mifano—she wore a simple high-collared robe of dove gray. The very simplicity of the robe, however, spoke of sophistication and authority. Feena's clothes, on the other hand, spoke of dirt, labor, and the country. A long crust of wolf spittle stained her skirt. She must have drooled during her travels. Angry, she wiped at the stain.
    Velsinore's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "So you've returned to Moonshadow Hall. Have you given up your mother's vendetta against the servants of Malar?"
    Feena flushed even deeper and said, "Do you mean 'have I stopped defending Arch Wood village against the predators of the Beastlord to fight the shadowy minions of Shar because Shar should be the only enemy that really matters to a priestess of Selune?'"
    "When you put it that way," said Velsinore, "yes."
    "No."
    "Ah," Velsinore said as she folded her hands. "Then why have you come back? I imagine Mifano was too busy flirting with you to ask."
    Mifano's eyes narrowed. "I was offering her hospitality."
    "Which is my responsibility," said Velsinore. She glanced at Feena. "We have space in the acolyte's common room, of course. You're welcome to it."
    "I don't think I'll be staying," Feena growled—at both of them. "I'm only here because Dhauna Myritar sent for me."
    Both Mifano and Velsinore stared at her. "She sent for you?" asked Velsinore. "A prayer carried on the Moonmaiden's beams," said Feena. She crossed her arms. "Do you doubt me?"
    Velsinore and Mifano exchanged a glance, then Mifano looked back to Feena and asked, "When?"
    Feena bit her tongue. "Recently," she said, evading. "Where is she? I'll talk to her and be on my way."
    "In her quarters, preparing for the Full Moon Blessing," Velsinore told her. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then gestured for the priestess who had remained with her. "Tam, take Feena to the High Moonmistress."
    Feena froze the younger priestess with a glare and said, "I know how to get there."
    She strode off along the cloister, leaving the startled priestess in her wake. A heartbeat later, rapid footsteps followed her.
    "Feena!" called Mifano. "Wait!"
    "Why?" Feena swung through another door and back into the interior of the temple. The ramp that led up to the second floor and the high priestess's quarters was just beyond.
    Mifano caught her hand. "You should know," he said hastily. "Dhauna has... things have changed at Moonshadow Hall. They're complicated."
    Feena pulled away. "Things never change," she said. "They're always... complicated."
----
    Feena raised her hand to knock on the carved wood of the High Moonmistress's quarters and was suddenly reminded of a precocious fifteen-year-old acolyte summoned before the high priestess of Moonshadow Hall for pummeling a silver:haired boy who had presented her with a collar and leash. She forced the memory aside. Some things did change. She rapped on the wood.
    When there was no immediate response, she knocked again.
    "Mother Dhauna, it's—"
    The door opened partway before she could finish. A young, dark-haired priestess peered out. She wore a harried expression.
    "Please," she said quickly, "this isn't a good time. Can you come back later?"
    Feena blinked. "I'd rather-"
    "Feena?" Dhauna's voice rose from somewhere inside. "Feena, is that you?"
    The dark-haired woman winced, but Feena raised her voice and called back, "It's me, Mother Dhauna!"
    "By Our Silver Lady!" The high priestess's voice was shrill and excited. "Finally! Let her in, Julith! Let her in!"
    The dark-haired woman—Julith—sighed and swung the door wide. "She's in her bedchamber," she whispered. "Please, try to keep her calm."
    Feena looked at Julith, but the other woman was already turning away. Feena stepped inside and shut the door. Dhauna's sitting room was cluttered with stacks of books and bundles of scrolls. Papers hid the desk. She stared at the mess in surprise as she passed on into the bedchamber.
    "Feena!" Seated in a chair before a dressing