The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Seventeen

Warning

The Book of the New Moon Door cover image: A book with yellowing, wrinkled pages lies open on an old wooden desk, with a sprig of lavender lying in the center.

The young man stands slowly, rolling his shoulders, as though the somber temple of Ondir is a country park and he’s contemplating concluding his picnic and heading home. He walks unhurried to the end of the row and starts up the center aisle, his hands in the pockets of his fine trousers and his polished riding boots sending a slow rhythm to echo against the dome.

Berend stands, dragging Isabel up with him. His free hand goes first to his pistol—it’s empty, Isabel remembers, because he shot the animated corpse in the morgue and hasn’t had a chance to reload—and then to the hilt of his sword. His cloak hangs over his elbow, hiding the weapons from view.

She twists her wrist out of Berend’s grasp. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she whispers.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Sixteen

Friends

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Berend marches Isabel out of Father Pereth’s office. His grip on her arm is immovable as a rusted iron hinge. Isabel struggles, twisting her elbow and pulling against him, but it’s no use. Fear restricts her vision to the end of the hall, where the dome allows in a few thin beams of sunlight. She expects the chapel will be filled with constables, but she might still be able to get away, to disappear into the back corridors and out into the graveyard—if she could only get herself free of Berend.

She trusted him. She’d thought he cared enough about the state of the world, about protecting the people of Mondirra, that he would help her. He saw the same terrible vision in the nether that she did. She’d even thought he supported her against the high priest’s accusations, until he’d smiled and acquiesced and grabbed her by the elbow.

“I’m not going to the temple of Isra,” she snarls through her teeth. She doesn’t want to hurt him, but if she has to, she’ll drive the heel of her boot straight into the soft leather instep of his. It’ll have to be quick, and then she’ll have to run. He’s still injured. That will slow him down.

Instead, Berend lets go. He holds both hands out, spreading his fingers to show they’re empty. “I know.”

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Fifteen

Affliction

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The body breathes in dry, rattling sobs, forcing air through collapsed lungs and a desiccated throat. It lurches forward blindly, rather like a garden slug, the sheet tangling its legs and covering its sightless face. The one free arm gropes its way forward, long, bruised fingers grasping at nothing.

Berend draws his pistol, levels the barrel at where he’s pretty sure the back of the corpse’s skull pushes against its shroud, pulls back the hammer, and fires.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Fourteen

Trouble

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Dawn breaks over the city by the time they reach the gates. Berend is usually good at keeping track of time, always waking right before his watch is due to start, but the night seems to have passed by in just a few hours. He doesn’t like it.

Isabel is half a step ahead of him. Though she stops once more at the gate to make sure he’s following, she says nothing. She may have been weeping, silent and stone-faced, but it’s too dark still for Berend to tell.

We are in trouble.

Berend doesn’t want to have to be the reasonable one between the pair of them. His hands still itch as he pictures wrapping them around Arden Geray’s ghostly neck. It feels satisfying in his imagination, even though he’s aware that dead spirits don’t work that way. Failing that, he wants to go straight to the university hospital and shake Lucian Warder awake, his injuries be damned. Isabel is supposed to be preventing him from doing that, at least until she’s explained how best to not get himself killed in the process.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Thirteen

Fracture

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Berend stands under a sky filled with blinking, staring eyes, surrounded on all sides by the restless dead. A red star shoots overhead like a firework, disappearing below a distant horizon in a blaze of ruby light. The world shakes with a terrible shriek, and Berend falls into it, the sound tearing him apart from within, his vision turning black at the edges and a burning pain spreading from his heart to his fingertips.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Twelve

Revelations II

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Isabel closes her eyes. As she has no physical eyelids at the moment, it doesn’t do anything. Her vision is still filled with ghosts, crowding in around her, blocking all escape routes.

But they’re not coming for her. They’re moving past her, like an unending river of death across the fields. Their incorporeal steps sink into the ground as though they’re trudging through a mire, slowly and doggedly.

“Where am I?” asks the ghost of a young woman, a tattered shawl gathered around her head and trailing misty fibers. Tied around her chest is a sling to hold a young baby, but it is empty, lying flat against her swollen breasts.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Eleven

Revelations I

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Isabel falls quiet. There’s a long walk ahead of her, and a longer night after that. She has to conserve her strength. There have been more sleepless nights in the last week than she ever had to endure as an apprentice, and even then, young as she was, she had not endured them happily.

The wind blows cold, and it carries a smell of frost as it crosses dry, brown fields on its way to the sea. Isabel can just make out the shapes of cut rows on either side of the road. Harvest time is well under way, and winter will follow, bringing with it a slight relief from the walking dead. Spirits are no less angry in winter, but bodies without the breath of life cannot keep their limbs from freezing solid, and their decay slows along with their chance of spreading pestilence. Winter, as the old sayings go, is when Sentinels retreat to their cloisters to study the same dusty tomes they studied the year before, and the year before that, going all the way back to the first Sentinel Rainier.

With a sudden ache like a knife to her ribs, Isabel misses the library in Vernay. Her superiors will learn of her failings in a few short days, when Father Pereth’s request for her replacement reaches them. They will turn her away, or worse, allow her in and follow her through the halls with looks of pity and distrust, as though she’s a vagabond relying on their charity.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Ten

Theology

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“Well.” Berend shifts, the varnished wood uncomfortable under his still-sore legs, and moves himself closer to Isabel. “It can’t be all bad, can it?”

She gives him a look, her brows furrowed and her mouth twisted into a confused frown.

Try as he might, Berend can’t think of anything to tell her to lift her spirits. “The weather’s lovely,” he tries, but it falls flat even to his own ears.

Isabel folds her hands in her lap and looks over her shoulder. A lone petitioner, dressed in heavy black layers and a mourning veil, enters the cathedral and turns toward the priests’ offices. Her shoes echo a slow, steady rhythm under the dome. They sound expensive.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Nine

Temple

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“I’m afraid I have to leave tomorrow,” Berend says.

Lady Breckenridge’s brows go up in a dubious expression. She holds up Berend’s old bandage, stained pink with less blood than he expected. “I don’t think you’re in any shape to go anywhere.”

He groans, a little louder than might strictly be justified, and props himself up on an elbow. The luxurious feather mattress adjusts to his new position. He’s going to miss it. He’ll miss Lady Breckenridge more. “I know, but I’ll live. I can’t let the Belisias find me here.”

“Belisias?” She scowls. “They wouldn’t dare.”

The fresh bandages wrapped around Berend’s chest are clean and neat, indistinguishable from the job the nurses did at the hospital. He’s never asked if Lady Breckenridge ever did a stint at a temple of Isra. “They’ll dare quite a bit, as it turns out,” he says. “The younger son murdered a serving girl, and his father doesn’t want it to get out.”

“I always thought there was something wrong with that boy.” She gets up and washes her hands in the floral-patterned ceramic basin, folding the dirty bandages into a towel.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Part Two, Chapter Eight

Rest

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Berend has, indeed, noted that Herard Belisia only wanted to do right by the girl his brother murdered after being cut off from his inheritance, but he can’t fault the man. He is, after all, a mercenary. By definition, his loyalty can be bought. Herard is buying it with promises, at the moment, and Berend’s conscience is heavy enough that he doesn’t need more.

He can’t do anything for Bessa Kyne’s soul now. Not until Warder wakes up—and he will, Berend just has to believe it. His collection of incomplete, nonsensical, water-damaged notes crinkle and crunch under his arm.

He’s headed for the city center, and the Lady Breckenridge’s apartments. Dressed in borrowed clothes from the hospital, he’s inconspicuous, but he looks over his shoulder every few paces, just to make sure. His ribs ache with every breath, and his steps are short, but he can walk. It’s midday, and the sun is warm and the wind is cool, and the first yellowed leaves drift down from overhead and skitter across the pavement.

It’s a beautiful day, and he’s alive, after a second brush with death. He didn’t even lose an eye this time.

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