Tag: demons

The Book of the New Moon Door: Chapter Eleven

Shell District

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.

Table of Contents

“Well, the evening is still young,” Berend says, rising from the table. “Shall we?”

The sun has set out of the range of the narrow window, but the sky is still light, a soft blue-gray tinged with fiery orange. Sailors and dockworkers are filling the bar, encroaching on the space around the corner table. They have a somber demeanor about them, besides the normal heaviness of a long day’s work, and their eyes dart warily across the room; word of the lighthouse keeper’s murder must have spread. 

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Chapter Ten

River District

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.

Table of Contents

There are, Berend knows, two establishments in the River District appropriate for the hushed exchange of information. One is a tavern, poorly lit and more poorly maintained, but adequately supplied with good liquor; the other could generously be called a coffeehouse though the substance it served was only tangentially related to coffee. He chooses the former, and leads Isabel through the growing crowds of returning sailors. 

The money from the Belisia job is heavy in his pocket. He’s done well for himself. Still, he trusts Lord Edwan about as far as he can throw the man, and he can’t shake the feeling that he’s just been paid to cover up the murder of the poor girl he saw in the light of Lucian Warder’s device. 

He tells himself he’s done what he can. He almost believes it.

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Chapter Seven

The Old Ghost

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.

Table of Contents

She’s starting to think of it as real, this demon of legend, like a living thing she’s searching for in the dark corners of the city. Isabel sits back on the heels of her well-worn travel boots, letting her skirts fall around her and bringing the arm not holding the lantern in toward her chest. It’s cold, and the wind blows freely through the open aperture of the lighthouse. On the positive side, however, the temperature keeps the body from reeking after what looks like a couple of hours since death. 

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Chapter Six

The Lighthouse

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.

Table of Contents

Lucian Warder. 

Isabel examines the record. The date beside Warder’s name is today’s, the twenty-first of Isra’s Moon. He must have gone to the library this morning, after word of the murder in the Shell District spread. Nothing unusual about that. Anyone would be curious—Isabel was, after all.

Still, it’s strange that she’s run into him twice in such a short time, and stranger still that he sought her out after everything that had happened last night. What did he say his device did? Banish restless spirits, rather like she does? What she does isn’t banishment, but that’s only the first of many problems she has with the concept of Warder’s device. 

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The Book of the New Moon Door: Chapter Two

Warder

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.

Table of Contents

Isabel sits at the small table across from Brother Risoven, her tea growing cold and a piece of bloody-colored fungus lying on a scrap of paper beside it. It’s stained the paper a wet reddish brown, and it’s shriveled a bit, but otherwise it hasn’t changed noticeably from when she pulled it off the side of a shack in the Shell District last night. In the thin early morning light from the high, narrow windows of the chapel’s living quarters, it looks rather like a severed finger, dark and twisted from putrefaction. 

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