| THE LORELEI SIGNAL |
.
| Written by Selena Thomason / Artwork by Holly Eddy |
| Moon Ransom |
Livon woke with a start. He scanned the room
for any hint of the threat he felt but couldn’t
name. It had been a nightmare, he realized.
Something about the ground splitting open. He
remembered falling into a jagged chasm,
desperately clawing at the edge, trying to pull
himself up. But it was just a dream.
Clutching the edge of the bed, Livon tried to
shake off the panic. In the dim moonlight the
room was exactly as he remembered; there
was no sign of danger or disruption. Livon took
comfort in the details of the known. Next to the
bed was his favorite chair. On it rested the robe
he had discarded upon retiring for the night. At
the other end of the room, moonlight reflected
from a mirror. Beneath it, Livon could just barely
make out the form of an oak dresser his father
had given him. A careless servant had chipped
the dresser during its move to the castle. Livon
had ordered the servant beaten, but stopped
short of having him killed. Livon was a merciful
master, after all.
Relieved to find all was as it should be, Livon
lay back down. He told himself he was just
nervous about the upcoming birth of his son.
The seers assured him nothing would go
wrong, but Livon couldn’t relax until he had an
heir.
Slumber continued to elude him. The barely
remembered nightmare refused to let go.
Beads of sweat rolled down his back. Finally,
Livon threw off the covers and got out of bed.
A breeze blew in from the balcony, fluttering the
curtains. The crisp air felt good on his face. Seeking the cool calm of night, Livon went to the parapet.
Livon looked down upon the rest of Telar City. His kingdom slept peacefully in the night. The peasants had no
worries, no intrigues to mar their slumber. Nor did the working class. Only the educated men knew an inkling
of Livon’s trepidation: the unease and complexity of his life, the inherent contradictions each day was full off,
the terrible choices he was called upon to make. They could never understand what it was like to be regent.
The moonlight grew dimmer and Livon looked to the sky to see what cloud had obscured which moon. The
two moons of Volk stared down at him. In a moment of confusion, Livon realized there should be three. He
looked around wildly, thinking that surely the third moon was hiding behind a cloud. But there was no cloud in
the sky. Stars dotted the firmament from horizon to horizon without interruption. Both Varta and Helan shone
their usual silver-blue light on Volk. Only the greenish glow of Silna was missing.
“I have taken it and placed it in my pocket.”
The voice came from behind Livon. He whirled to see a woman standing in the doorway. She had long, red
hair that danced in the breeze as if it were a thing possessed of its own will. The strange woman wore a
long, green dress with gold embroidery at the neck.
“Do you want it see it?” she asked. “Silna, I mean.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is not important. And even if it was, I wouldn’t tell the likes of you. You may call me Silna, if you
like.” She smiled like she had made a joke.
“I will call you Intruder. Don’t you know who I am?”
“Of course.” She walked past him, to the edge of the balcony. “You are Livon, regent of Telar City, ruling until
the true king returns from his adventures in the far lands.” She turned back to face Livon. “You are nobody of
any importance to me.”
“How dare you? I will summon my guards and order your death.”
“Go ahead and try. Your guards can do me no harm. Besides, if you threaten me, I’ll never return your
precious moon. I’ll keep it in my pocket and carry it with me as a toy, something to entertain myself with
whenever I become bored.”
“You can’t possibly have the moon Silna in your pocket.”
“Can’t I?” She pulled a greenish, glowing orb from her skirt and held it out for him to see.
“That’s not the moon.”
“Are you sure?”
“It is too small.”
“Perhaps I shrank it so it would be easier to carry.”
“You can’t have stolen the moon. It’s impossible.”
“Where is your precious moon, then? Where is the Emerald of the Night, the Fair Green Lady, the treasured
Silna Luna?”
“I don’t know. It’s a trick. An illusion.”
“Hmm, you think so, do you?” She put the orb away. “Ask your scientists in the morning. Or your fisherman.”
“The fisherman?” Livon scoffed.
“Yes, they will notice the changes sooner. It will take your scientists longer, for they are one step removed
from the nature they study. The fishermen, however, will know immediately when the sea is pulled from the
shore.”
“I will consult my scientists and leave the working men to their petty chores.”
“Very well, the learned men will be better at predicting what effects your missing moon will bring next. Tidal
waves, quakes, rampant madness—who knows? The world could end.”
Livon worked his hands on the lip of the parapet as if trying to strangle it.
“Silna’s disappearance could be just the beginning,” the woman continued. “Maybe Varta will vanish next. Or
maybe it will be the baby, Helan. Your people believe Helan breathes life into the little ones and makes them
grow. What will happen to this mighty kingdom of yours if your babies die? Or, worse, are never born at all?
Who will care for you in your old age? Who will succeed you when you are gone? Anyone?”
Livon lunged at the woman and grabbed the collar of her gown. “Who are you? What do you want?”
She merely smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Then she vanished, leaving Livon’s hand curled around only
the night air. For a moment, a green glow remained in her place. Then it disappeared as well.
~*~
Livon couldn’t sleep. He paced the balcony for the rest of the night. He didn’t want to make Silna’s
disappearance real by calling for his scientists or servants. He hoped it was all a hallucination, that Silna
would simply reappear. But it never did. Instead he watched both Helan and Varta set as the sun rose in the
north. Livon thought perhaps he should be comforted by the warm, orange-yellow rays of Gulda the Life-
Bringer. But he wasn’t. He knew what would come next.
A knock sounded on the door to his bedroom. He left the balcony and walked to the door.
“Master, Master,” his servant Melig called, “You must wake up; there is something terrible afoot!”
Livon opened the door. “I know. I haven’t slept in hours.” He stepped aside to make way for Melig to enter
the room. “I was awake when it happened.”
“Happened?”
“The disappearance of Silna. Isn’t that what you came to tell me?”
Melig shuffled uncomfortably, and ran a hand through the sparse hair at the back of his head. “Well, perhaps
it is. Your grace’s fishermen have been unable to begin their daily toils.”
“So there will be no fish for dinner. Tell the cooks I will have roast instead.”
“But, sire.” The man was plainly dismayed by his master’s response.
“Melig, just say it.”
“The fishermen report the tide has gone out further than they have ever seen it. All the boats are on dry land.
They are walking the boats out to the water, but it is over an hour’s walk. They don’t think they will be able to
get all of them out before Gulda reaches it zenith and the fish go to sleep on the bottom of the sea to avoid
the heat. They fear they won’t catch any fish at all today.”
“I told you, I will have roast instead.”
“I will tell the cooks, sir. But I fear the tide is only a symptom of a larger problem.”
“Of course it is.”
“The fisherman also report that when they woke, early before Gulda’s rising, Silna could not be found in the
sky.”
“As I said, Silna is missing.”
“But how can that be?”
Livon refused to answer.
“It is a conundrum that is beyond me, your grace.”
“Yes, it is. Now, bring me some breakfast. There is much to do and I cannot think on an empty stomach.”
“Of course.”
“And call the scientists together. I will meet with them after I’ve eaten.”
Melig nodded and rushed back into the hallway.
Livon still hoped it was all an illusion, some kind of mass delusion the strange woman had created. Maybe
Silna was there in the sky, but hidden from their eyes by means of sorcery. Maybe the receding tide was just
another deception.
“You wish,” her voice came from behind him.
Livon spun around but there was no one there, just a flicker of greenish light, then nothing.
“You will not win against me, witch!” Livon threatened the emptiness. He thought he heard laughter fading in
the distance.
~*~
Livon slammed his fists on the table. “You are all useless!” he told the assembled scientists, learned men, and
advisors. “I don’t need a litany of problems followed by an even longer list of dire predictions. I need
solutions.”
Silence consumed the room. Each man looked to another. A couple fiddled their fingers in apprehension.
A young man raised his hand in the air. “Sir, if I may,” he inquired meekly.
Livon turned his attention to the boy. “You, who are you?”
“My name is Geb. I am an apprentice astronomer under the illustrious Kelbin.” He indicated his mentor with a
slight incline of his head. The elder astronomer responded by shaking his head slowly in warning.
“What do know abut Silna’s disappearance?”
“There is a theoretical phenomenon that could remove a satellite from its orbit.”
Geb’s mentor placed a hand on his arm. “Geb,” he whispered. “It is not proven.”
“That is true, your grace.”
“What is it?”
“It is called a dark vortex. Its gravity is the most powerful force in the universe; anything that comes into its
range is pulled in. It is a sink hole of sorts in the fabric of space.”
“How do we get Silna back out of this vortex of yours?”
Geb’s mentor dropped his head to the table.
“Apprentice Geb?” Livon asked again.
“We don’t, your grace. What goes into a dark vortex never comes out.”
Livon grumbled. “Then, I do not like your theory at all.” He turned his attention to the full group. “You are
supposed to be experts on this sort of thing. I want a solution by tonight.” He stormed out of the room.
“They will not find an answer.”
Livon recognized the voice immediately and whirled to face the woman. “How do you know? My scientists are
the most educated, most brilliant of men.”
“But this problem is not one of science.”
“The stars and moons are certainly the purview of science.”
“Ah, but the disappearance of a moon, that is a matter of faith. Or, of magic. Your learned men will fail.”
“Your grace?” Melig’s voice interrupted their conversation and Livon turned away for a moment.
“What is it?” Livon snarled to his servant.
“Who is it you were speaking to just now?”
Livon gestured toward the woman but by then she was gone. “No one,” he answered. “What now?”
“Your wife is asking for you.”
“What does she want?”
“The midwife says the child will be born soon; they want you for the prayers to Helan, for the child’s—”
“I know what prayers to Helan are for.”
“Of course, your grace.”
“Tell her I will join her shortly.”
The servant returned to his mistress’s chambers to deliver the news.
“You don’t care for her at all, do you?”
Livon turned to see that the mysterious woman had returned.
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing. It only makes stealing your moon that much more satisfying.”
“Enough of this. Just tell me what you want.”
“I want your daughter.”
“I have no daughter.”
“But you will. Tomorrow, your wife will give birth to twins: first, a boy—as you so fervently hope—then
moments later, a girl. Do with the boy as you will, but give me the girl and I will replace your moon.”
“The doctors and seers all agree that it is only one child my wife is carrying, and that it is a boy.”
“And after your wife has given you the heir you seek, then you never have to see her again.”
Livon felt the indictment in her words but didn’t want to acknowledge any wrongdoing, not even to himself.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. I only care about the girl.”
“The seers say my son will be a great warrior whose name will be remembered throughout the ages.”
“He will also be a brutish fool who will only aid you in the destruction of this land. Either you give me your
daughter on the very day she is born, or Silna will never return to the sky above Telar City.”
“Maybe I don’t care whether or not Silna returns.”
“But you do. Your scientists are right when they tell you quakes will appear next. The ground beneath you will
splinter. Great chasms will crisscross your land.”
A flash from Livon’s nightmare made him shiver.
“Many lives will be lost,” the woman continued. “Both men and beasts will fall into the opened passageways
to the underworld. Is that what you want? Why not avoid the horrors to come and just give me the girl? You
don’t want a daughter anyway. All you care about is the son.”
“If you want the girl-child so much, why don’t you just take her? If you truly have the power to steal a moon
from the sky, surely you can take a babe from her crib.”
The woman was unruffled. “A moon is not a person. People may not be taken against their will. You must give
her into my keeping if she is to be of any use at all.”
“I will consider your offer.” Livon turned and walked away.
“Think carefully, regent,” she called after him, “for I have set my sights on Varta next.”
~*~
Livon slept fitfully. He woke many times in the night. Each time he wanted to go to the balcony to see if the
moons were still in their places, but he feared they would not be and so he stayed in bed.
Shortly before dawn, a knock rattled his door.
“Master, master, wake up, there is dreadful news.”
“Come in.” Livon sat up in bed as Melig hurried into the room.
“Varta has disappeared. Now only Helan remains in the night sky.”
“Well, at least we know she won’t take Helan, not if she wants her precious baby girl.”
“Who, your grace?” Concern etched Melig’s face. “Master, are you well?”
“No, I am not well.” Livon threw off the covers and got out of bed. He grabbed his robe from the chair and
headed to the balcony. Melig followed closely behind.
“How can I be well? My sky has only one moon. One tiny moon, and all it is good for is the birthing of babies.”
“Sire?”
“Nothing. I want to talk to the doctors and seers again. Send them to me right away.”
“Of course.”
“And have someone check on my wife. I want to make sure nothing goes wrong with the birth.”
“Yes, your grace.”
Melig retreated to the hallway, leaving Livon alone on the balcony.
“Fine, witch,” he called to the empty air. “You can have the baby girl.”
A voice sounded behind him. “I am no more witch than you are king.”
Livon turned to face the strange woman. “You are going to insult me as well as steal moons from my sky?”
“So it would seem.”
He noticed that a bluish glow emanated from her left side.
“Would you like to see your missing moon?” Slowly she pulled a silver-blue orb from the folds of her skirt.
Flecks of silver sparkled in the dim, remaining light of tiny Helan. “Victorious Varta, Arbiter of Fortune. What
will you do, regent, without Varta’s favor shining down upon you?”
“My fortune is not determined by the moon Varta.”
“Isn’t it?”
“That is superstitious nonsense. Only the peasants believe those old stories.”
“Then you won’t mind if I keep it? It’s rather lovely, I think.”
“No, you may not keep it. We have a deal. The child will be born today, by your own calculation. Once she is,
you can have her as long as you return the moons to their rightful places.”
“Agreed. I will come to claim her at moonrise. If you give her to me, then all three moons will rise. If you do
not, then I will carry all three moons with me as I leave this doomed land forever.”
The woman’s form became translucent. Livon could see the balcony wall through her fading body. She put the
bluish orb back in her pocket and smiled.
“Until then,” she said as the last of her form dissipated into the early morning air.
Livon turned to see the first rays of Gulda breaking from the horizon.
~*~
Livon waited in his wife’s outer chambers most of the day. He found the birthing business much too messy to
attend to personally. He would wait until the deed had been done, and the people and room cleaned up. Only
then would he enter and meet his son, and the daughter he was giving away.
Melig came through the double doors. “We are ready for you now, sire.”
“And my son? Do I have a son?” Livon headed through the door, toward the inner chamber.
“Yes, your grace. A fine son. And more. Your wife had twins: a boy and a girl.”
“But the boy was born first?”
“Yes.”
“And he is fine?”
“Yes. But there is something else.”
When Livon entered the room, he saw his wife lying on the bed, propped up by pillows. She looked
exhausted. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing strange. In her arms were two bundles that she seemed
barely aware of. The midwives stood closely by as if to catch the children should they fall from their mother’s
carelessness.
“Is she sleeping?” Livon asked.
“No, sir. That is what I was trying to tell you. Lady Sarja is not well. The birthing was very difficult. The doctors
don’t expect that she will live.”
“But the heir, my son?”
“He is healthy, sire. Your daughter is likewise.”
“Leave us,” Livon ordered. “All of you.”
The people scattered, leaving only Livon, his unresponsive wife, and two infants—one of whom had begun to
cry. He picked up the crying infant and searched its swaddling to determine if it was the boy or girl. It was the
boy.
“There, there, son,” he cooed to the boy. “There is nothing to cry about. One day you will be regent, the most
powerful man in the land.”
“Do you truly think the child cares now for your kingdom?”
Livon knew without looking that it was the witch come to claim his daughter.
“What do you know about sons?” he asked. “It’s the daughter you want.”
“True. But even I know that it is your wife he wants. The child is hungry. You think you don’t need your wife
anymore, that she has fulfilled her function, but you are wrong.”
“I will find a wet nurse for the boy.”
“I am sure you will.” She looked down at Sarja and placed a hand on her sweaty, cold forehead. “Fear not,
dear mother. Your daughter will be well taken care of, and your sacrifice will never be forgotten.” A weak sigh
escaped Sarja’s parched lips, then she moved no more.
“I have come for our agreed-upon price.” The woman reached for the girl who lay quietly at her dead mother’s
side.
“Take her. She is of no use to me.”
The moon-thief gently picked up the child and held her close. “You are wrong there as well. After you and your
son have ruined this land, your daughter will return to restore it.”
“What of the moons you stole?”
“You will find them as they were.” She turned and walked to the balcony.
Livon followed her, but when he reached the parapet she was gone. Livon was relieved to see three moons
now lit the sky.
“Come on, son, let’s get you fed. Much greatness awaits you.”
Livon tried to ignore the laughter he heard in the wind.
for any hint of the threat he felt but couldn’t
name. It had been a nightmare, he realized.
Something about the ground splitting open. He
remembered falling into a jagged chasm,
desperately clawing at the edge, trying to pull
himself up. But it was just a dream.
Clutching the edge of the bed, Livon tried to
shake off the panic. In the dim moonlight the
room was exactly as he remembered; there
was no sign of danger or disruption. Livon took
comfort in the details of the known. Next to the
bed was his favorite chair. On it rested the robe
he had discarded upon retiring for the night. At
the other end of the room, moonlight reflected
from a mirror. Beneath it, Livon could just barely
make out the form of an oak dresser his father
had given him. A careless servant had chipped
the dresser during its move to the castle. Livon
had ordered the servant beaten, but stopped
short of having him killed. Livon was a merciful
master, after all.
Relieved to find all was as it should be, Livon
lay back down. He told himself he was just
nervous about the upcoming birth of his son.
The seers assured him nothing would go
wrong, but Livon couldn’t relax until he had an
heir.
Slumber continued to elude him. The barely
remembered nightmare refused to let go.
Beads of sweat rolled down his back. Finally,
Livon threw off the covers and got out of bed.
A breeze blew in from the balcony, fluttering the
curtains. The crisp air felt good on his face. Seeking the cool calm of night, Livon went to the parapet.
Livon looked down upon the rest of Telar City. His kingdom slept peacefully in the night. The peasants had no
worries, no intrigues to mar their slumber. Nor did the working class. Only the educated men knew an inkling
of Livon’s trepidation: the unease and complexity of his life, the inherent contradictions each day was full off,
the terrible choices he was called upon to make. They could never understand what it was like to be regent.
The moonlight grew dimmer and Livon looked to the sky to see what cloud had obscured which moon. The
two moons of Volk stared down at him. In a moment of confusion, Livon realized there should be three. He
looked around wildly, thinking that surely the third moon was hiding behind a cloud. But there was no cloud in
the sky. Stars dotted the firmament from horizon to horizon without interruption. Both Varta and Helan shone
their usual silver-blue light on Volk. Only the greenish glow of Silna was missing.
“I have taken it and placed it in my pocket.”
The voice came from behind Livon. He whirled to see a woman standing in the doorway. She had long, red
hair that danced in the breeze as if it were a thing possessed of its own will. The strange woman wore a
long, green dress with gold embroidery at the neck.
“Do you want it see it?” she asked. “Silna, I mean.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is not important. And even if it was, I wouldn’t tell the likes of you. You may call me Silna, if you
like.” She smiled like she had made a joke.
“I will call you Intruder. Don’t you know who I am?”
“Of course.” She walked past him, to the edge of the balcony. “You are Livon, regent of Telar City, ruling until
the true king returns from his adventures in the far lands.” She turned back to face Livon. “You are nobody of
any importance to me.”
“How dare you? I will summon my guards and order your death.”
“Go ahead and try. Your guards can do me no harm. Besides, if you threaten me, I’ll never return your
precious moon. I’ll keep it in my pocket and carry it with me as a toy, something to entertain myself with
whenever I become bored.”
“You can’t possibly have the moon Silna in your pocket.”
“Can’t I?” She pulled a greenish, glowing orb from her skirt and held it out for him to see.
“That’s not the moon.”
“Are you sure?”
“It is too small.”
“Perhaps I shrank it so it would be easier to carry.”
“You can’t have stolen the moon. It’s impossible.”
“Where is your precious moon, then? Where is the Emerald of the Night, the Fair Green Lady, the treasured
Silna Luna?”
“I don’t know. It’s a trick. An illusion.”
“Hmm, you think so, do you?” She put the orb away. “Ask your scientists in the morning. Or your fisherman.”
“The fisherman?” Livon scoffed.
“Yes, they will notice the changes sooner. It will take your scientists longer, for they are one step removed
from the nature they study. The fishermen, however, will know immediately when the sea is pulled from the
shore.”
“I will consult my scientists and leave the working men to their petty chores.”
“Very well, the learned men will be better at predicting what effects your missing moon will bring next. Tidal
waves, quakes, rampant madness—who knows? The world could end.”
Livon worked his hands on the lip of the parapet as if trying to strangle it.
“Silna’s disappearance could be just the beginning,” the woman continued. “Maybe Varta will vanish next. Or
maybe it will be the baby, Helan. Your people believe Helan breathes life into the little ones and makes them
grow. What will happen to this mighty kingdom of yours if your babies die? Or, worse, are never born at all?
Who will care for you in your old age? Who will succeed you when you are gone? Anyone?”
Livon lunged at the woman and grabbed the collar of her gown. “Who are you? What do you want?”
She merely smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Then she vanished, leaving Livon’s hand curled around only
the night air. For a moment, a green glow remained in her place. Then it disappeared as well.
~*~
Livon couldn’t sleep. He paced the balcony for the rest of the night. He didn’t want to make Silna’s
disappearance real by calling for his scientists or servants. He hoped it was all a hallucination, that Silna
would simply reappear. But it never did. Instead he watched both Helan and Varta set as the sun rose in the
north. Livon thought perhaps he should be comforted by the warm, orange-yellow rays of Gulda the Life-
Bringer. But he wasn’t. He knew what would come next.
A knock sounded on the door to his bedroom. He left the balcony and walked to the door.
“Master, Master,” his servant Melig called, “You must wake up; there is something terrible afoot!”
Livon opened the door. “I know. I haven’t slept in hours.” He stepped aside to make way for Melig to enter
the room. “I was awake when it happened.”
“Happened?”
“The disappearance of Silna. Isn’t that what you came to tell me?”
Melig shuffled uncomfortably, and ran a hand through the sparse hair at the back of his head. “Well, perhaps
it is. Your grace’s fishermen have been unable to begin their daily toils.”
“So there will be no fish for dinner. Tell the cooks I will have roast instead.”
“But, sire.” The man was plainly dismayed by his master’s response.
“Melig, just say it.”
“The fishermen report the tide has gone out further than they have ever seen it. All the boats are on dry land.
They are walking the boats out to the water, but it is over an hour’s walk. They don’t think they will be able to
get all of them out before Gulda reaches it zenith and the fish go to sleep on the bottom of the sea to avoid
the heat. They fear they won’t catch any fish at all today.”
“I told you, I will have roast instead.”
“I will tell the cooks, sir. But I fear the tide is only a symptom of a larger problem.”
“Of course it is.”
“The fisherman also report that when they woke, early before Gulda’s rising, Silna could not be found in the
sky.”
“As I said, Silna is missing.”
“But how can that be?”
Livon refused to answer.
“It is a conundrum that is beyond me, your grace.”
“Yes, it is. Now, bring me some breakfast. There is much to do and I cannot think on an empty stomach.”
“Of course.”
“And call the scientists together. I will meet with them after I’ve eaten.”
Melig nodded and rushed back into the hallway.
Livon still hoped it was all an illusion, some kind of mass delusion the strange woman had created. Maybe
Silna was there in the sky, but hidden from their eyes by means of sorcery. Maybe the receding tide was just
another deception.
“You wish,” her voice came from behind him.
Livon spun around but there was no one there, just a flicker of greenish light, then nothing.
“You will not win against me, witch!” Livon threatened the emptiness. He thought he heard laughter fading in
the distance.
~*~
Livon slammed his fists on the table. “You are all useless!” he told the assembled scientists, learned men, and
advisors. “I don’t need a litany of problems followed by an even longer list of dire predictions. I need
solutions.”
Silence consumed the room. Each man looked to another. A couple fiddled their fingers in apprehension.
A young man raised his hand in the air. “Sir, if I may,” he inquired meekly.
Livon turned his attention to the boy. “You, who are you?”
“My name is Geb. I am an apprentice astronomer under the illustrious Kelbin.” He indicated his mentor with a
slight incline of his head. The elder astronomer responded by shaking his head slowly in warning.
“What do know abut Silna’s disappearance?”
“There is a theoretical phenomenon that could remove a satellite from its orbit.”
Geb’s mentor placed a hand on his arm. “Geb,” he whispered. “It is not proven.”
“That is true, your grace.”
“What is it?”
“It is called a dark vortex. Its gravity is the most powerful force in the universe; anything that comes into its
range is pulled in. It is a sink hole of sorts in the fabric of space.”
“How do we get Silna back out of this vortex of yours?”
Geb’s mentor dropped his head to the table.
“Apprentice Geb?” Livon asked again.
“We don’t, your grace. What goes into a dark vortex never comes out.”
Livon grumbled. “Then, I do not like your theory at all.” He turned his attention to the full group. “You are
supposed to be experts on this sort of thing. I want a solution by tonight.” He stormed out of the room.
“They will not find an answer.”
Livon recognized the voice immediately and whirled to face the woman. “How do you know? My scientists are
the most educated, most brilliant of men.”
“But this problem is not one of science.”
“The stars and moons are certainly the purview of science.”
“Ah, but the disappearance of a moon, that is a matter of faith. Or, of magic. Your learned men will fail.”
“Your grace?” Melig’s voice interrupted their conversation and Livon turned away for a moment.
“What is it?” Livon snarled to his servant.
“Who is it you were speaking to just now?”
Livon gestured toward the woman but by then she was gone. “No one,” he answered. “What now?”
“Your wife is asking for you.”
“What does she want?”
“The midwife says the child will be born soon; they want you for the prayers to Helan, for the child’s—”
“I know what prayers to Helan are for.”
“Of course, your grace.”
“Tell her I will join her shortly.”
The servant returned to his mistress’s chambers to deliver the news.
“You don’t care for her at all, do you?”
Livon turned to see that the mysterious woman had returned.
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing. It only makes stealing your moon that much more satisfying.”
“Enough of this. Just tell me what you want.”
“I want your daughter.”
“I have no daughter.”
“But you will. Tomorrow, your wife will give birth to twins: first, a boy—as you so fervently hope—then
moments later, a girl. Do with the boy as you will, but give me the girl and I will replace your moon.”
“The doctors and seers all agree that it is only one child my wife is carrying, and that it is a boy.”
“And after your wife has given you the heir you seek, then you never have to see her again.”
Livon felt the indictment in her words but didn’t want to acknowledge any wrongdoing, not even to himself.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. I only care about the girl.”
“The seers say my son will be a great warrior whose name will be remembered throughout the ages.”
“He will also be a brutish fool who will only aid you in the destruction of this land. Either you give me your
daughter on the very day she is born, or Silna will never return to the sky above Telar City.”
“Maybe I don’t care whether or not Silna returns.”
“But you do. Your scientists are right when they tell you quakes will appear next. The ground beneath you will
splinter. Great chasms will crisscross your land.”
A flash from Livon’s nightmare made him shiver.
“Many lives will be lost,” the woman continued. “Both men and beasts will fall into the opened passageways
to the underworld. Is that what you want? Why not avoid the horrors to come and just give me the girl? You
don’t want a daughter anyway. All you care about is the son.”
“If you want the girl-child so much, why don’t you just take her? If you truly have the power to steal a moon
from the sky, surely you can take a babe from her crib.”
The woman was unruffled. “A moon is not a person. People may not be taken against their will. You must give
her into my keeping if she is to be of any use at all.”
“I will consider your offer.” Livon turned and walked away.
“Think carefully, regent,” she called after him, “for I have set my sights on Varta next.”
~*~
Livon slept fitfully. He woke many times in the night. Each time he wanted to go to the balcony to see if the
moons were still in their places, but he feared they would not be and so he stayed in bed.
Shortly before dawn, a knock rattled his door.
“Master, master, wake up, there is dreadful news.”
“Come in.” Livon sat up in bed as Melig hurried into the room.
“Varta has disappeared. Now only Helan remains in the night sky.”
“Well, at least we know she won’t take Helan, not if she wants her precious baby girl.”
“Who, your grace?” Concern etched Melig’s face. “Master, are you well?”
“No, I am not well.” Livon threw off the covers and got out of bed. He grabbed his robe from the chair and
headed to the balcony. Melig followed closely behind.
“How can I be well? My sky has only one moon. One tiny moon, and all it is good for is the birthing of babies.”
“Sire?”
“Nothing. I want to talk to the doctors and seers again. Send them to me right away.”
“Of course.”
“And have someone check on my wife. I want to make sure nothing goes wrong with the birth.”
“Yes, your grace.”
Melig retreated to the hallway, leaving Livon alone on the balcony.
“Fine, witch,” he called to the empty air. “You can have the baby girl.”
A voice sounded behind him. “I am no more witch than you are king.”
Livon turned to face the strange woman. “You are going to insult me as well as steal moons from my sky?”
“So it would seem.”
He noticed that a bluish glow emanated from her left side.
“Would you like to see your missing moon?” Slowly she pulled a silver-blue orb from the folds of her skirt.
Flecks of silver sparkled in the dim, remaining light of tiny Helan. “Victorious Varta, Arbiter of Fortune. What
will you do, regent, without Varta’s favor shining down upon you?”
“My fortune is not determined by the moon Varta.”
“Isn’t it?”
“That is superstitious nonsense. Only the peasants believe those old stories.”
“Then you won’t mind if I keep it? It’s rather lovely, I think.”
“No, you may not keep it. We have a deal. The child will be born today, by your own calculation. Once she is,
you can have her as long as you return the moons to their rightful places.”
“Agreed. I will come to claim her at moonrise. If you give her to me, then all three moons will rise. If you do
not, then I will carry all three moons with me as I leave this doomed land forever.”
The woman’s form became translucent. Livon could see the balcony wall through her fading body. She put the
bluish orb back in her pocket and smiled.
“Until then,” she said as the last of her form dissipated into the early morning air.
Livon turned to see the first rays of Gulda breaking from the horizon.
~*~
Livon waited in his wife’s outer chambers most of the day. He found the birthing business much too messy to
attend to personally. He would wait until the deed had been done, and the people and room cleaned up. Only
then would he enter and meet his son, and the daughter he was giving away.
Melig came through the double doors. “We are ready for you now, sire.”
“And my son? Do I have a son?” Livon headed through the door, toward the inner chamber.
“Yes, your grace. A fine son. And more. Your wife had twins: a boy and a girl.”
“But the boy was born first?”
“Yes.”
“And he is fine?”
“Yes. But there is something else.”
When Livon entered the room, he saw his wife lying on the bed, propped up by pillows. She looked
exhausted. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing strange. In her arms were two bundles that she seemed
barely aware of. The midwives stood closely by as if to catch the children should they fall from their mother’s
carelessness.
“Is she sleeping?” Livon asked.
“No, sir. That is what I was trying to tell you. Lady Sarja is not well. The birthing was very difficult. The doctors
don’t expect that she will live.”
“But the heir, my son?”
“He is healthy, sire. Your daughter is likewise.”
“Leave us,” Livon ordered. “All of you.”
The people scattered, leaving only Livon, his unresponsive wife, and two infants—one of whom had begun to
cry. He picked up the crying infant and searched its swaddling to determine if it was the boy or girl. It was the
boy.
“There, there, son,” he cooed to the boy. “There is nothing to cry about. One day you will be regent, the most
powerful man in the land.”
“Do you truly think the child cares now for your kingdom?”
Livon knew without looking that it was the witch come to claim his daughter.
“What do you know about sons?” he asked. “It’s the daughter you want.”
“True. But even I know that it is your wife he wants. The child is hungry. You think you don’t need your wife
anymore, that she has fulfilled her function, but you are wrong.”
“I will find a wet nurse for the boy.”
“I am sure you will.” She looked down at Sarja and placed a hand on her sweaty, cold forehead. “Fear not,
dear mother. Your daughter will be well taken care of, and your sacrifice will never be forgotten.” A weak sigh
escaped Sarja’s parched lips, then she moved no more.
“I have come for our agreed-upon price.” The woman reached for the girl who lay quietly at her dead mother’s
side.
“Take her. She is of no use to me.”
The moon-thief gently picked up the child and held her close. “You are wrong there as well. After you and your
son have ruined this land, your daughter will return to restore it.”
“What of the moons you stole?”
“You will find them as they were.” She turned and walked to the balcony.
Livon followed her, but when he reached the parapet she was gone. Livon was relieved to see three moons
now lit the sky.
“Come on, son, let’s get you fed. Much greatness awaits you.”
Livon tried to ignore the laughter he heard in the wind.
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Selena Thomason writes mostly science fiction, but sometimes
feels called to other genres.
She has had more than thirty stories published in magazines such
as The Lorelei Signal, bending spoons, Every Day Fiction,
Anathema, The Literary Bone, AlienSkin Magazine, and
VerbSap.
Selena is also Managing Editor of MindFlights magazine.
Her published works are available at http://selenathomason.com/.
feels called to other genres.
She has had more than thirty stories published in magazines such
as The Lorelei Signal, bending spoons, Every Day Fiction,
Anathema, The Literary Bone, AlienSkin Magazine, and
VerbSap.
Selena is also Managing Editor of MindFlights magazine.
Her published works are available at http://selenathomason.com/.
| Moon Ransom was previously published in the June/July 2008 issue of AlienSkin Magazine |
