Crystal Moon (29 page)

home. She would tell Kyne of the child growing within her and

trust him to keep them safe. With her decision came a sense of

peace.

Next to her Zoa stirred and poked her head from under the

cloak. “Who is singing?”

“It is just the wind.” Sianna crawled beneath the cloak and

tucked it securely around them. Meager warmth crept over

her. “Now, go to sleep.”

“They sound like angels.” Zoa’s voice trailed away into

slumber.

Beneath the wail of the wind, voices filled the air with a

beguiling song. Sianna strained to decipher the words, but though

the sound was clear, the meaning was not. Purity rang in those

sweet voices, wrapping her in a sense of peace and comfort.

Surely the singers would help Zoa and her. Cold and fear

forgotten, she stood and followed the sound into the darkness.

***

“Saddle Hakan!” Fear lent strength to Kyne’s roar.

His cloak flying like the wings of some great bird of prey

preparing to pounce, he stormed across the great hall. People

scattered. He pushed past a woman serving last meal. Her

tray tipped. Plates clattered to the floor. Food splattered. Etam

darted out to do Kyne’s bidding.

Katya chased him into the courtyard and grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?”

He whirled around. “Sianna’s run off. I found Warda in my

chamber. Drugged. I’m after her.”

“In this weather? Alone?” Katya matched his long strides

toward the stables. “By the moons! She must have heard us

talking. Where would she go?”

Feet dancing over the snow-covered cobblestones, Hakan

emerged from the spangles of white filling the air. He snorted

and shook his head, throwing a shower of snow from his already

dusted hide. At his side, Etam struggled to hold the beast.

“To her death.” Kyne leapt into the saddle. He sawed the

reins, forcing Hakan’s head around, and prepared to kick him

into a gallop.

Katya snatched Hakan’s bridle. “Kyne, wait!”

“Let loose.” The thick mantle of falling snow muffled his

shout.

“Which way will you search? It’s near dark. You can’t

chance the trail. The snow will have erased her tracks. Why

not wait until morning?”

“There’s no time.”

“Then I’ll go with you. Etam, saddle Deju.”

“No.” Katya’s rational words calmed his first rush of panic,

but nothing could ease the fear eating away at his heart. Because

of his rash words, Sianna wandered the mountainside, frightened

and alone, easy prey to predators and elements.

Why would she flee? Not for fear of marriage to Prince

Timon. By her own admission she was resigned to her father’s

plans for her. Only a babe growing in her womb could send her

fleeing into the night. With her knowledge of healing she could

easily rid herself of a babe. Instead, to protect that babe—his

babe—she had dashed headlong into danger.

He pulled Hakan’s head free of Katya’s grip. “Come first

light organize a rescue party and search the downward trails.

Rouse Warda if you can. He can track her. Tonight I’ll head

upward as far as a woman afoot could travel in a day. If I don’t

find her, I’ll turn back and meet you along the trails.”

Common sense suggested Sianna would head down the

mountain. Few people ventured higher into the Azul Mountains,

and even fewer returned. Danger lurked around each bend for

the careless or unwary. Death hid in the sharp claws of a hungry

sardak, a fall of loose rock, a misstep over a steep cliff. With

each thought, he whispered a prayer for Sianna’s safety. Still,

something urged him toward the craggy peaks. He remembered

well her fascination with his stories of the mythical Andacor.

Katya nodded and stepped back. “Take care. And find her.”

Calling on childhood memories of his mother’s tales and

his own adventuresome nature, Kyne guided Hakan up the little

used path. As though he knew what was at stake should he

hesitate, Hakan sprang forward.

Hours passed, and the storm intensified. The wind howled

around Kyne, turning the gentle fall of snow into a swirling

gale. He squinted against the sting of icy pellets and watched

the trail for sign of Sianna’s passage. The higher he climbed

the thicker the downfall. Drifts soon slowed them to a walk.

The steep trail exposed them to the raging elements. Eyes

slitted, Kyne hunched forward over Hakan’s neck. Moisture

froze on his cheeks. His fingers grew numb. The quinar’s rear

hooves slid off the ice-crusted trail. For a moment he floundered

on the edge of oblivion, then with a mighty surge he staggered

forward. Sides heaving, Hakan lowered his head and stood

trembling.

His own heart racing, after a moment Kyne nudged the

beast into the leeward side of a large boulder. Until the storm

broke they could travel no further. He could only pray that

Sianna too had sought shelter.

As he dismounted, the faint scent of wood smoke teased

his nose. His foot disturbed the remains of a fire. He knelt.

Smothered by snow, green wood still smoldered, but cast no

heat or light. Sianna had been here. Where was she now? Kyne

looked up.

A few feet away, huddled against the boulder was a small,

snow-covered mound. Heart pounding, he reached out and

brushed away the white blanket. In the snow lit darkness, he

could just make out the brown of a travel cloak. Frightened by

what he might find below, he lifted the edge.

Dark, sleepy eyes blinked up at him.

“Zoa?” In a glance he took in the child, wrapped in Sianna’s

his cloak. But where was Sianna?

“Father. You came. I told Sianna you’d come.” Zoa’s thin

arms reached out for him.

Kyne shook the snow off the cloak and rewrapped her in

it. “Where is Sianna?” Fear tightened his vocal cords.

Zoa yawned and snuggled into his embrace. “We heard

voices. Singing. She followed them. I’m hungry. Can we go

home now?”

“How long ago? Zoa? How long?”

Her small head flopped against his shoulder, and her eyes

fell shut. Asleep, she didn’t answer.

He eased the child back into the shelter of the boulder and

stood. Hours or minutes, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t track her.

No footprints marred the smooth expanse of snow. Even his

and Hakan’s footprints were filling rapidly.

Wind whistling through the rocks could resemble muted

voices singing in the distance. Befuddled by cold, dressed in

naught but her tunic, did she search for a chimera of sound?

He turned in circles. Which way had she gone? He had to

find her? But how? And what of Zoa? He couldn’t leave her

alone. Nor could he drag her further into the storm.

“Sianna! Where are you? Come back!” The wind snatched

his words and whirled them back at him, but gave no answer.

Like twin beasts of prey, guilt and grief clawed his heart.

Because of him Sianna would die on this mountain. He lifted

his head and howled his anguish.

Seventeen

While the storm continued to rage, Zoa slept, curled warm

and lax in Kyne’s lap. He found no such escape. Sorrow

haunted his dreams. Guilt devoured his heart.

Sianna was out there somewhere. Alive? Dead? Either

way, he vowed to find her, but duty demanded he first see Zoa

safely returned to the castle.

The storm cleared, and the sun inched up into a placid blue

sky to glint off a blanket of white. Sparkling like silver crystal in

the early morning light, rivulets of melting snow streamed down

the trail. The tinkle of water coursing over rock provided a

soothing sound that didn’t touch Kyne’s pain.

He eased Zoa from his lap and stood, preparing to return

her to the castle then continue his search for Sianna. The child

slept on.

A few steps away, a mound of white gave a mighty heave

upward and shook. Snow flew. Through the storm, the quinar’s

bulk had provided a living barricade against the cutting wind.

Now he snorted and stamped his feet. Clumps of snow clung

to his furry hide.

The deep baying howl of a hound pierced the tranquility.

Warda! Kyne recognized the beast’s voice.

“Rauk!” Hakan rasped in answer.

Kyne stepped out onto the trail as the clatter of hooves

against rock echoed in the quiet. Led by Warda, two riders

approached. Katya and Graham. The quinars’ sweat-lathered

coats steamed in the cold.

“Rul Cathor!”

“Kyne!”

Graham and Katya shouted together.

Graham sat his quinar awkwardly, his splinted legs sticking

straight down and slightly outward. Deep lines of pain bracketed

his mouth and, despite the crisp mountain air, sweat beaded his

pale skin. Katya rode just behind, her gaze darting from Graham

to Kyne then back.

Warda raced ahead. He halted at Kyne’s side, snuffed at

Zoa, then head down, he crisscrossed the ground around the

boulder. Catching a scent, he gave an anxious whine and dashed

away, only to pause head up, as if waiting for Kyne to follow.

Hope flickered in Kyne. Would Warda respond so if he

smelled death? Kyne wasted no time. As Graham and Katya

rode up, he leapt into Hakan’s saddle. “Katya, take Zoa home.

And this crazy man as well.” He turned toward Graham. “Sianna

will tear a strip from your hide for your foolishness.” If she

survived her own.

“I’m fine.” Graham gripped his saddle with white-knuckled

fingers and looked around. “Where is she?”

“She wandered off in the storm before I arrived.”

Katya’s gasp of dismay reflected Kyne’s own fears. She

slid from Deju’s back and picked up Zoa. He chafed against

this small delay.

“Want Sianna.” Zoa muttered a sleepy protest.

Sianna’s name came out sounding like mama. Kyne’s heart

lurched at the thought of a babe, his babe, in Sianna’s arms.

Had his quest for vengeance driven her to her death?

Katya handed Zoa to Graham and strode over to Kyne.

“What of Prince Timon’s command? Clearly Sianna carries

Aubin’s child. Why else would she flee into the night?” Katya’s

tone and look conveyed her contempt for his actions and its

consequences. “She cannot marry the prince. Nor is it safe for

her to return to Castle Vareck. The prince’s messenger leaked

word of Sianna’s parentage. Though she has friends who rise

to her defense, tempers run hot over her deception. What will

you do?”

“I will find her.” A sudden surety came over him. With

every breath he took, he felt Sianna’s living presence, her heart

beating in time with his.

“And then?” Graham asked. “You have nine days until

DiSanti carries out his threat to kill the queen and princess.

Dramon hovers on the brink of civil war. DiSanti will push the

country into chaos with his madness.”

“Let him,” Katya shouted. “You can’t sacrifice Sianna or

Aubin’s child to his lust for power.”

“But....”

Kyne stopped Graham’s objection. “Katya is right. Sianna’s

pregnancy changes everything. Her death on the spike would

throw the country into turmoil as surely as the deaths of the

queen and princess. There’s naught we can do to prevent war.

Go back to Castle Vareck and send messages to the rebel

leaders to prepare. When I find Sianna, I will return and join

the battle.”

“What do we tell Prince Timon?”

Graham’s quiet question nearly shattered Kyne’s resolve.

He knew well the pain of losing one’s family. How could he

stand by and do nothing to save Timon’s? His own queen and

princess? Yet what could he do?

Kyne met Graham’s gaze. “I hope you are better than you

look, my friend. I need your help.”

Graham’s back straightened. “I am well enough to ride. I

can do whatever you require.”

“And I, what he cannot,” Katya added.

“Good. Take a small troop of men and infiltrate DiSanti’s

siege. Seek out his weaknesses. Find where he holds the queen

and princess.” With growing impatience to be off, Kyne relayed

the rest of his hasty plan. “Go. I’ll see you in nine days.”

He turned Hakan and started up the trail. Warda trotted

alongside. For an hour they pushed upward through melting

drifts of snow. Then he saw her.

Like warmed wine, relief flowed through Kyne’s frozen

veins. Body poised, arms outstretched as if to embrace an

approaching lover, Sianna stood at the edge of a cliff, her slender

body outlined against the sky. Snow dusted her dark hair and

dampened her tunic until it clung like a second skin, but she

was oblivious to the cold, her gaze focused inward. One step,

and she would tumble into a vast chasm.

“Sianna.” She gave no indication she heard him.

Warda started toward her.

“Warda. No.” The hound stopped and gave a reluctant

whine. Kyne dismounted. Beneath his feet the snow-covered

ground groaned. Hakan snorted in fear. Kyne dropped the reins,

and the quinar shuffled backward. Step by cautious step, Kyne

crept closer until an arm’s length separated them. “Sianna?”

She turned her head to him and smiled, her gaze still