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

Revelations II

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.

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

Repent

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Once outside, Isabel takes a full breath for the first time in hours. Reder Angrove’s ghost remains, for the moment, inside the chapel, and the grip of his fear and grief releases. The air is cold, and it scrapes against her throat. Autumn has arrived in Mondirra.

“Did they ritually remove your brain as part of your training, Sentinel?” Geray demands in her ear, voice shaking with suppressed rage. “Take it out and put it back in the wrong way, perhaps?”

Isabel places her hat on her head and pulls the brim down over her eyes. She can still see Geray, trudging half a step behind her with his feet two inches above the ground. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it,” she says through her teeth.

“I had an easy solution,” Geray shrieks. “I practically served it to you on a platter!”

“Enough.” Isabel presses herself against the small kitchen’s exterior wall and cranes her neck to see out to the front of the building. Her uniform will hide her in the dark, but only if she’s careful.

Geray floats out in front of her. “Whatever happens in there is on your hands, then.”

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

Never

Table of Contents

Isabel turns to the door. Darkness has fallen over the chapel, and a black abyss stretches between her and where the constable, presumably, is trying to get in. The church is haunted. Maybe the incongruousness of a ghost on holy ground will delay the authorities’ realization of the fact, but the signs are obvious.

The knock of a heavy fist sounds again. Geray gets up and floats through the black, his form disappearing like a breath on a cold day. A howl of agony shakes the chapel.

There’s no way they can’t hear this. Isabel shelters her candle, the only light remaining in the church, with both hands. Her fingers ache with cold.

Geray reappears, accompanied by a chorus of distant screams, both animal and human. “They’re going to knock down your door if you don’t answer,” he says. “They have a battering ram and everything.”

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

Holy Ground

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“There is another ghost in this house.”

Isabel wakes with a start and sees nothing. It’s grown dark, which means she’s slept much longer than she planned, and she’s not entirely sure what day it is now. The translucent form of Arden Geray hovers beside her narrow bed, the sockets of his eyes as dark as the night outside.

For however many blissful, oblivious hours she was asleep, she had forgotten about him. She groans and pushes herself up. “What are you talking about?”

“A spirit,” he says, enunciating carefully as though he is speaking to a child. “It’s just arrived and it’s none too pleased. What are you going to do about it, Sentinel?”

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

Prodigal Son

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Berend takes a sudden, involuntary breath. Pain digs into his ribs. He kicks at the bedclothes, the ache moving down his legs, and tries to sit up.

The nurse’s hands on his shoulders are firm and heavy. “Be still,” she says. “It’s all right.”

It is most assuredly not all right. At best, there’s a member of the illustrious and unscrupulous Belisia family here to threaten his life, limbs, and everyone he cares about—a dwindling number, these days, and one he can count on one hand, but still. At worst, someone is here to kill him.

“My effects,” he says. Talking moves the pain up underneath his lungs. “Where are my things?” His pistol almost certainly isn’t loaded, and there’s no chance he could lift his saber in this state, but his mysterious visitor doesn’t know that.

“They’re locked away on the lower floor,” the nurse says, pushing him into the bed. “What’s wrong?” Her hand moves to his wrist, gentle but strong as a vise.

A shadow darkens the entrance to Berend’s curtained room. He looks up, his pulse pounding in his ears and under the nurse’s fingers. At least she’s here. There will be a witness.

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

Questions

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Everything hurts.

It’s a sure sign that Berend is alive. He’s never heard of Ondir’s realm being a painful one, though he’d have to ask the Sentinel to be certain. A high, shaky note rings in both ears. Beyond it, muffled voices and footsteps move in and out of his awareness. There is light, also, pressing against the lid of his good eye.

What a beautiful day it will be, he thinks, but when he opens his eye, pain shoots through his skull. The ringing in his ears reaches an agonizing crescendo. He closes both the eye and the empty socket, squeezing them shut, and the pain subsides to a dull throb.

All he can remember is Arden Geray—serial murderer, mad sorcerer, and destroyer of souls—and how Berend shot him in the chest and cut him down. After that, something had slammed into Berend’s body, and he must have lost consciousness. The brightness tells him that it must be broad daylight now, so he’s been out for several hours, at least.

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