Stormchild: Emeline and the Forest Mage

Rise of the Last Apprentice: Scum

Guys, forgive me for putting the author's note first. This story within a story will be part of the grand trilogy someday, possibly part of the first or second book. I have hoarded it and tweaked it for ages now, and finally decided to share it with you. Hope you enjoy.

'Black hearts, black blood, and black fate.

Black dreams, black deeds, and black death.

Black things come when the blood moon rises.'

~ A saying oft whispered around fires.

SCUM

Denirya sprinted down an alley in Skävia City, her coat flapping in the wind, her feet silent on the cool stones. Her breaths rushed in and out, and the wind whooshing past her ears dimmed the noise coming from the markets ahead. Somewhere past those markets, Tesh, the youngest in their posse, was entertaining a man intent on deflowering her. Denirya had to reach them before that happened, but she was running late. Yviä was gonna kill her! Tesh's virginity was obviously worth a lot, and their scheme for the night depended on Denirya reaching Tesh in time and taking care of the man.

She reached the South Markets and began to elbow her way through the crowd. Here, merchants sold their wares by lantern light and the Blood Moon's glow, and crowds gathered to celebrate the Festival of the Blood Moon. The Markets always brought a pang of jealousy and longing to her heart. Raised without a father and living in the Outskirts, she did not know the luxury of bartering for snacks and purchasing soft silks, or just enjoying the night's revelry and basking in the Blood Moon's red light with her family.

A slaver's voice drowned and resurfaced in the vacillating noise of the crowd. 'The best you've ever...clean teeth and a good...'

A man stepped in front of her, she dodged but slammed into his shoulder anyway.

'Hey, watch it.' He scowled. She mumbled an apology and tugged the cloak over her Moon Woman garb before he noticed it.

'Fresh treat for a sweet lass?' A merchant waved a honeyed meat stick at her face. She dodged it and frowned, then shoved at the woman blocking her path. 'Good price,' the merchant called after. Yeah, wasn't it always.

Infants cried, music blared, women and lovers talked and laughed. Drunkards toddled and danced, and amidst the revelry Denirya spotted men who'd come for other reasons, sharp-eyed men on the lookout for Moon Women. Men whose needs had lured her and the other girls into the city for a night, men like the man who'd paid for Tesh's company. Not men, targets. Opportunities.

When at last she left the press of the crowd, she ran again. Two turns to the right, one to the left. Up a flight of dilapidated stone steps, down the second alley to the right. There loomed the wall with six red doors. Tesh was in one of those rooms but she couldn't remember which one and the rooms weren't numbered. Beneath her cloak her tail flicked and tapped. Curses on the man who'd built Skävia all grey and uniform! The Blood Moon came four times a year, and by now she should have known which door to enter, but she didn't.

'Close your eyes and listen,' Mama's voice ghosted in her head. 'Can you hear the wind? It whispers just as the Desert Mother Sheia whispers to our hearts.'

Mama's voice had impeccable timing. Denirya put her ear against the first door and heard murmurs, clinking, and laughter. An average family likely sipping red wine and celebrating another season passed, another four months breathing. Curses on them too, for enjoying such lavishness while she crept in the shadows.

She pressed her ear to the next door. Nothing. This one? A sudden snort and rumble burst from inside, and she jerked back. This man slept already? On the Blood Moon Festival? For a moment she considered breaking in and robbing him out of sheer spite, but she didn't have time. She had to find Tesh or Yviä would spill her guts.