Page 133 of Moon Chosen

Sora shook her head and looked like she was close to taking her walking stick and hitting Nik with it. Mari quickly said, “I’m ready, Sora.”

Sora led the way through the brambles. She only hesitated twice, and both times chose the correct path before Mari had to remind her. Mari was surprised at how good the girl had gotten at finding her way through the mazelike thicket, and made a mental note to tell her so—later.

It was slow going and they had to rest often, but they made it up to the clearing where Mari led Nik to the Goddess statue and helped him take a seat on the thick grass carpeting the ground in front of it. She untied his blindfold and while he was blinking and rubbing his eyes, she took the mug of tea laced with cannabis and juice of the poppy from Sora.

“Okay, Nik. Drink this and then make yourself comfortable.”

Nik reached for the mug, but stopped as his vision cleared. He stared around them, wide, blurry eyes taking in the neat little clearing, the bramble walls, and the Goddess image that seemed to be emerging gracefully from the ground.

“Am I dreaming?”

“Yes, you are,” Sora said.

“Can Rigel be part of my dream?”

Mari frowned at Sora, but answered Nik. “Yes, he can.” Without her having to say anything to him, the young canine padded to Nik and lay down beside him. The man smiled and rested a hand on the pup’s soft coat. Mari felt a little unexpected jolt at the picture they made together. In the moonlight Nik didn’t look so pale and sick. His blond hair was mussed and fell over one of his eyes. He tried to brush it away—unsuccessfully—and then he sighed heavily, reminding Mari of a young boy—a very handsome young boy. She mentally shook herself. “Drink the tea, please, Nik,” she said.

Blinking hard, Nik looked from Rigel to Mari. “Rigel trusts you. I trust you,” he finally said. “I’ll drink anything you give me.” Then he took the mug from her and gulped the bitter potion. He lay back, looking up at the Goddess and petting Rigel slowly. “Beautiful,” he said in a dreamy voice that was oddly free of slurring. “She’s so beautiful. Reminds me of you, Mari. Solid. Trustworthy. But strange. Very strange…” His voice trailed off as his hand stilled, his eyes closed, and his breathing deepened to soft snores.

Sora walked up to him and poked his foot with her walking stick. When he didn’t react, she smiled at Mari. “That was really fast. How much of that stuff did you give him?”

“Enough to make sure he won’t wake up in the middle of us drawing down the moon.” Mari wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her sleeve. “He’s a lot heavier than he looks.”

“Yes, he is. Also, he’s got a thing for you,” Sora said.

“He does not! He’s sick, in massive pain, and I’ve filled him full of drugs. Nothing he said means anything.”

Sora snorted.

“Are you ready to do this?” Mari asked.

“If it gets him out of our burrow—yes. I’m more than ready.”

“All right.” Mari went to Nik and sat beside him, close to Rigel’s warmth. Gently, she turned Nik so that she could press her hand against the poulticed and bandaged spear wound. The other hand she held up for Sora to take. “Let’s start.”

“But you should be here and I should be where you are,” Sora said.

Mari smiled at her. “You can do this. Just like with the fern, only imagine that I’m the fern and you’re drawing down the moon to flow through you and pool into me. I’ll take it from there and send it into Nik.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t—”

“I’m sure you can do it. Just like you can pick your way through a forest of brambles and lead us up here. I believe in you, Sora.”

Sora blinked quickly and looked away from Mari. Mari thought she saw the sheen of tears in the girl’s gray eyes, but when she looked back at her Sora was smiling. “I’m ready. And I can do this.”

Sora clasped Mari’s hand and began the incantation. Mari closed her eyes, listening with pleasure to Sora’s steady voice. She didn’t falter one time. She’d memorized the entire drawing-down spell. As Sora repeated the familiar words, Mari deepened her breathing. Easily slipping into her imagination, she drew within her mind a scene that showed silver moonlight cascading like a magnificent waterfall into Sora’s raised palm. She sketched Sora glowing with light and then made that light pour into herself, Washing through her body as well, to pool within Nik so that he was illuminated with the moon’s majesty. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, seeing in her mind the wound on Nik’s back turning from putrid and rotting to healing pink flesh. Then, keeping her eyes closed and maintaining the drawing in her mind, she walked her hand down Nik’s body, from the wound on his back to the wound on his leg. She pressed her palm to it, imagining it, too, healing.

Mari had no idea how long the three of them stayed like that, connected through touch and power and imagination. She only knew when Sora sank to her knees beside her and pried their hands apart.

“It’s done. I can’t hold it anymore,” Sora said quietly, sounding utterly exhausted.

Mari opened her eyes, coming back to herself. She was ravenous and thirsty. Her gaze went to Nik. He was sound asleep.

“Do you think it worked?” Sora asked.

“Let’s drag him back to the burrow and see.”

“I’m so glad you said drag,” Sora said. “I’m not taking his head, though. I don’t like being close to his face.”