Mist of Midnight
an excerpt

Chapter 1 – The Mission of a Thief
“Andhra, stay here.”
“Stop, Dahey. Father told us to stay inside tonight.”
“Andhra, for once, please listen. Stay here and be quiet. No matter what, do not follow me.”
Dahey slipped outside before Andhra could respond. She swallowed a scathing retort instead of shouting her complaints. Arguments with her older brother seldom ended in her favor. She ran to their room instead and eased the shutter open to watch. The musky scent of a trampled field mixed with the heady aroma of wildflowers and filled the night air with memories of previous Hallownights. Andhra leaned out the window to breathe in the last scents of fall.
Ancient sentinels of maple, oak and sycamore stood as guardians cradling the outer edge Martiz cemetery. Many of the trees had carved faces overlooking the quartz headstones. Semi bare branches whispered a lullaby in the breeze. They deepened the dark graveyard creating broad shadows of stick men waltzing along the field. The headstones rose between the shadows gleaming like ghostly pearls in the starlight.
Andhra stared as the mist of the departed souls began to rise to complete the celebration of Hallownight. Dahey had disappeared within their embrace, encasing himself within the remembrance dance. Stealthily he moved from one shadow to the next until he became a part of the mist. He was now one with the droplets of souls. Andhra sighed in desperation with a longing to join him.
Focusing on the individual droplets, she forgave him this indiscretion while she searched for her mother. This year more than any other Andhra desperately wanted to commune with her mother’s spirit. Mom’s soul had never been this late before. Distracted, Andhra spoke intermittently with the souls hovering near the window while continuing her search. Nothing.
Absolutely nothing until the spirits began to swirl around the curved edge of a blade blackened as deep as a raven’s eye. Dahey held his dagger flush against the throat of a thief sneaking towards their bedroom window. Less than two paces away, Andhra could make out the red and blue-spiraled tattoos that marked him as a rank four master thief.
Andhra never expected to see anyone of his status at her home. He was one of the elite. She knew rank fours generally stole from the upper classes or occasionally the royal family, transferring riches from one merchant master to the next while lining their own pockets with tidbits acquired along the way. Who had hired him? What could he possibly hope to steal from the cottage of a rank two gravedigger?
The thumping of her heart felt as if it were pounding in tandem with the shutter of the cottage. Dahey removed the dagger. He followed the thief through the window. There was no longer a need for the blade. Everyone knew a thief was at the mercy of his captor until he fulfilled his captor’s desires. Escape attempts or harming his victims not only ensured personal disgrace, he also faced fines or possible expulsion from his guild.
The thief sat on Andhra’s bed as his eyes scanned the room. Other than the beds, the room held nothing except a couple of small clothes chests and one rickety nightstand with the stub of a candle in a chipped ceramic holder. Nothing to tempt the visit by a master thief. She turned back to the window to watch the spirits when she sensed a strange presence. Glancing briefly over her shoulder she discovered the thief staring at her. She stared back until he lowered his eyes.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” Dahey faced the thief, tossing his knife from hand to hand.
“Dahey…”
“Not now, Andhra.”
“Please, Dahey. The shadows are moving among the graveyard.”
“Andhra, I said not now. Besides those are the spirits dancing.”
“Dahey, I know spirits. I also know there is another stranger out there. How can you be so sure this thief came alone?”
“I was out there. I know.”
A scream from the direction of their father’s room broke the silence. Dahey tightened his grip on his dagger, raced from the room leaving Andhra alone with the thief.
She stepped towards the door. Then back again. Should she follow Dahey or guard the thief? Like she could guard anyone. As far as she knew, not many grown men were afraid of a twelve-year-old twig of a girl. It was easy to be brave when her older brother stood by her side. Alone, she did not stand a chance and she knew it.
She stared at the thief. He had not moved. Andhra knew pride and honor kept him from fleeing. At least she hoped it was nothing more than pride and honor. He licked his lips as he studied her, his hands twitching.
“Andhra, are you ready? If we leave now, your brother can track us down later.”
“Who are you? What do you want with me?”
“Me, I am nobody. I am only here to fulfill a mission.”
Andhra edged closer to the door. She picked up the candle. It was the only item in the room within easy reach, not that a candle was much of a weapon, not unless she planned to beat the thief into submission with the holder or set him on fire. She doubted that either of those were a possibility. With her back braced on the wall, she crept towards the hallway and freedom.
“You do not want to do that, Andhra. Come with me. I am the only one that can save you and your brother.”
The stranger wiped his arm across his sweaty forehead. The ink from the tattoo began running down his arm. It was a fake. This man was no thief. She had no idea who he was. What did he want with her? Andhra’s mind had crowded out everything except for the stranger that sat on her bed. She turned to run the last few steps towards the doorway and freedom at the same time he leapt from the bed and grabbed a handful of her hair.
“Dahey, help me, please help me!”
She had no sooner finished screaming when she saw Dahey racing down the hallway. He held his dagger tight. He pushed Andhra into the wall; tearing her hair out by the roots where the thief had grabbed ahold to keep her from escaping. He shoved the thief into the room where he landed with a thud on the floor. It was then that Andhra noticed his hands and the front of his nightshirt covered in blood.
“Dahey, what’s wrong? Where’s Papa?”
He did not answer. Instead, he held his dagger on the thief’s throat. The pressure from the blade indented but did not pierce through the skin. The blood coating the edge of the blade pooled into the curve of his throat.
“Who are you? What do you want from us?”
“Remove the blade and I will tell you.”
“You will tell me now or you will die. Your choice.”
“Dahey,”
“Andhra, be quiet.”
“But, Dahey, where is Papa? Why are you covered in blood?”
“Father is dead. This man killed him. If not him, then the one who came with him. He is going to tell me what I want to know or he will end up the same as his friend.”
“Listen to me, said the stranger. I am your friend. You should come with me now before you end up the same as your father, or worse.”
“My friend, you call yourself a friend? What kind of friend sneaks into another’s house? What kind of friend disguises his guild? Tell me, exactly what kind of friend are you?”
“The kind that is trying to save your life. Your life, your sisters. I would have saved your father if you had listened to me earlier. It is your fault he’s dead.”
Andhra stopped listening. She tried to comprehend the words father and dead. It could not be true. She edged her way closer to the door and slipped out while Dahey continued his argument with the stranger.
She crept down the hallway towards her Papa’s room. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she walked. This was Hallownight. The night of the midnight dance. All she wanted was to talk to her mother. Was her mother gone because she knew her spouse was going to join her on this night? She did not really believe that her Papa was gone. She did not really believe that he was still alive either. Not if the amount of blood covering Dahey was any indication.
The further she moved from their room, the darker the hallway became until she moved from instinct alone, one hand on the wall to guide, her feet gliding across the floor silently until her toe slammed into something squishy. Instinctively, she screamed.
“Andhra, where are you, called Dahey? Do not move, do not do anything, I am on my way.”
She leaned back on the wall, afraid to reach down to find out what had stopped her. She knew she just knew that it was her father. Her Papa. It could not be. Her Papa was fine. She only needed to reach him. She could make it all better. She could make this night right. Instead of waiting for Dahey, she pushed away from the wall and ran until she reached her father’s room.
Slants of light drifted in the windows. More shadows and light, streamers of shadows, streamers of light and in the middle of the streamers lay her Papa. If it were not for the blood on the sheets, he would have looked like he was sleeping.
“Papa, no please, Papa, no.” Andhra did not realize that she had moved across the floor and knelt at his side. She lifted his head, placing it gently in her lap and stroked his hair. She leaned over to kiss him on his forehead. Tears streamed down her cheeks, softly plopping onto her Papa’s face. She rocked as she continued to cradle his head until she heard a whisper.
“Papa, be still. You are going to be fine. You will see. I am going to make you better.”
“Andhra, listen. Not much time. Have Dahey prepare my soul. You help. Please.”
“No, Papa, I am going to make you better. Lie still and be silent.”
“No. Time is close. Get Dahey. Run. They found him. They found you. Promise me you will run tonight.”
“Papa,”
“Do it now, Andhra. I love you. Your mother loves you.”
“Why, Papa, why?”
Her father had fallen silent before Andhra received an answer. Before she could lay his head on his pillow, Dahey had entered the room with the thief. The thief that was not a thief. She did not know who he was but she did know that he was going to tell her. Dahey’s knife might not have worked. She knew a trick that would. Something so small that she thought she would never have a need to use it on a human. It was only something she discovered to pass the dull moments of time when she was alone.
She had overheard two forecasters, those who predicted a person’s future, talking the last time she had gone to market with Dahey. He had sent her in search of anise and lily of the valley oils. Papa used these herbs along with others when preparing for the release of a body’s soul. Most people did not realize that the soul stayed in contact with the body for three days after death. During those days, the soul could be treated with herbs and hymns to join those that already helped to form the mist.
Andhra knew. She knew more than Papa did or Dahey realized. The forecasters had caught her listening to their conversation. One of them looked like a regular person. Long dress layered with two aprons, braided hair that fell to her waist and a scarf tied round her neck. The other looked like a street urchin. Dirty and disheveled, her brown wrap was in tatters over a threadbare dress. Her sandals had more dust on them than the cobblestones. Still her eyes were a vivid shade of azure that matched the cloudless sky. Andhra should have walked away when they beckoned her into their tent.
She should have walked away and yet she did not. She was curious. One pence the lady said. Once pence so she could know what the future held for her. Andhra thought it would be fun. She did not believe that anyone could say what the future held. Not anyone alive anyway. She thought the spirits that danced during the mist of midnight knew more than they told. How else would her Mother have known about her falling out of the sycamore tree and breaking her arm last year?
The last thing her mother had told her the dance before was to be careful and to quit climbing trees like a boy. She had intended to ask her this year. She never had the chance. And now Mother was dancing the remembrance dance without her family. Did this mean that her spirit would leave? Would she rise to the top of the mountains in preparation for the next stage of her journey? She hoped that missing one dance was not enough to lose her Mother. She could not bear the thought of her being gone forever.
The forecaster, her name was Linde, had her sit on a three-legged stool. One of the legs wobbled when she sat. Linde lit a candle while the well-dressed woman closed the curtain. The musky aroma of deerstongue filled the small tent. Linde reached forward and took Andhra’s hand in hers. For a person that resembled a street urchin, her hands were surprisingly soft.
Palm up, she ran her forefinger along Andhra’s hand, studying the lines and the curve of her fingers. Andhra began to relax from her touch when she felt Linde finger stiffen. She could tell it had stiffened by the pressure on her palm. Her words were as committed to Andhra’s memory as those of the Song of Passing.
“The child, the lost child. No, the lost children. The other is close by. Their powers blind the sun and strike fire into the hearts of their enemies. Heart and mind, they have them both. They cannot be stopped until the kingdom lay in ruins. The kingdom. They shall rebuild the kingdom. Fire, they breathe fire. No. They will not die. Not until many years have passed. Enemies. Friends. Is there a difference? She, you will have to choose. Do you let him live? Do you destroy him with your mind? Your path, his path. They are the same and yet they are different. It is he that must learn. It is you that must trust. Be his mind. Learn now before fate intervenes.”
Linde slumped in her seat after she uttered those words. Behind her the other woman, Andhra never had learned her name, stood with her hand over her mouth, looking at Andhra as if she were a demon. Linde reached inside her cloak and pulled out a book. Its cover was the worn leather shade of the most ancient of books. The pages were thick, the writing faded.
“I did not think to live to see this day, said Linde. I had hoped to pass this to my daughter one day. I cannot. Legend says that this book belongs to you. Use it wisely, she said as she handed it to Andhra.”
“I cannot take this, Andhra had said, it is yours.”
“You can and you will. It belongs to you now. Now leave me please.”
Andhra had taken the book as Linde had requested. The book that now lay beneath her mattress of sedge grass. No one knew that she had it. No one other than Linde and the strange woman. Linde had called her and Dahey lost children. She had taken the book and read it. It was not what she had thought when she had read the title on the cover, The Secret of The Day. If she had not, was there a chance her Papa would still be alive?
It did not seem possible. The book was nothing more than a listing of myths that parents used to frighten their children, stories of demons that rode the wind and stole the lost souls. In the back of the book, a few loose pages were inserted. They were newer than the book. Delicate print covered thin vellum sheets of paper listing herbs complete with properties. Pictures drawn in the margins showed what they looked like. Details of where and when they grew were listed with the properties.
One day when Andhra was searching the forest for pine nuts for the pantry, she decided to take the book with her to read when she took a break for lunch. The story she had started the night before contained a spell to make animals tame and if used properly could make them talk. The book was filled with spells interwoven with the stories. Some were dark, dangerous spells. Others were lighthearted, the stories surrounding them funny and playful.
She studied one of the lighthearted spells in detail as she ate her lunch. When a squirrel ran down the side of the tree next to her, she decided she would see if it worked.
“Journey with me into my mind
Bind to me your every thought
You are now one with me
I now one with you
Unchain your soul
Free the past
Release.”
The squirrels; thoughts flooded Andhra’s mind. She saw acorns, trees, worries about gathering food for the coming winter. She witnessed the fear of predators lurking from the sky and from the ground. Being a squirrel was a dangerous life. A short life if one did not learn survival skills early.
Andhra spoke the one remaining word on the page to release the hold she had on this tiny creature. “Choose.”
Her thoughts were her own again. The squirrel scampered back the way he had come with the speed of one of Dahey’s arrows during practice. From that moment, Andhra had practiced this spell and a few of the others listed within the pages of the book. Only the spells from the good stories. The spells of the demons frightened her. She thought they might be true. She hoped that no one knew of the existence of this dark magic.
All of this ran through Andhra’s thoughts as Dahey tied the stranger, she no longer believed his guise of being a thief, to the post in the center of Papa’s room. Stroking her father’s hair one last time, whispering words of love and kissing him on his cheek, she laid his head gently down on his pillow and stood.
She walked to face the stranger and began to utter the spell beneath her breathe. Before she could finish, she heard her father whisper for her leave the stranger alone. As much as she wanted to continue, the need to obey her Papa was stronger. She stopped.
Dahey had apparently not heard her. Or Papa. Dahey seemed intent on gathering the oils for the last rites of passage. Her gaze bored into the strangers. He knew that she would be back. He stared back at her as if her were unafraid of what she could do. He would be soon though. He would fear her much more than he would Dahey’s dagger.
She stepped away and took the vial containing the lily of the valley essence from Dahey. Returning to her Papa, she leaned over, whispered the words of peace and began to rub his skin with the oil from the vial.
Dahey allowed her to finish before taking the vial from her hand and asking her to sit in silence while he completed the ritual. He began with the oil of anise; dipping his finger into the vial, he rubbed the oil in the sign of infinity on his father’s forehead before coating his lips with the sweet fragrance of eternity.
His father began to whisper again. His voice grew weaker. His strength waned with every passing moment.
“Dahey, I am sorry.”
It was now Dahey that had tears streaking his cheeks. He dropped to his father’s side so he could hear his words.
“Do not talk, Papa. I can save you if I can complete the ritual.”
“No, Dahey. Not enough time. Release me. I need to go.”
“Papa, I can save you. You told me I could save a person if I finished the ritual before the last breathe was breathed.”
“Dahey stop. You know. Now listen. Listen and accept.”
Dahey and Andhra both leaned closer so he would not have to strain to speak. She took hold of her Papa’s hand. Her fingers caressed his. Papa used part of his strength to squeeze her fingers.
“Dahey, Andhra, this is a lie. Your life is a lie. No time for details. I thought I could keep you safe. You are my children. You are your Mama’s children. No matter what you hear. You are mine. And I am yours.”
“Linde trusted me. Andhra gave no notice that she recognized the name. After all, Linde was a popular name. It may have nothing to do with the forecaster. I failed her. I failed you. Now you must run. Dahey, I told Andhra. Now I tell you. You must run. Tonight. Do not look back. Do not return home.”
“Papa, you are talking nonsense. Please let me finish, said Dahey.”
“No Dahey. You will finish. I want you to finish and then I want to join your Mama. Remember the midnight dance. We will find you, together again; Mama and I will find you. First, please promise me that you will run.”
“Yes Papa. Yes, we will run. Where shall we run?”
“For now, to the mountain crags, find the cave. Linde said you will find the cave.”
“The cave, what cave? Why the mountains? Why can we not go to the city?”
Instead of an answer, Martiz Orander, better known to Dahey and Andhra as Papa fell silent. The hand holding Andhra’s fell limp and dropped to the side of his bed. Dahey dropped to his knees, the tray holding the oils to prepare the souls falling to the floor beside him.
After a few minutes of stunned inactivity, Andhra reached over to take hold of Dahey’s hands.
“Finish, Dahey. You are now the master preparer. Do Papa proud.”
“Andhra, I’m sorry. I tried to save him. I tried.”
“I know. He did not want it. This was not to be his future. Prepare him so that we can honor him and do as he wished. He wants us to leave. I think he might be right.”
“We cannot leave. Not now, not until he has been interred.”
“We can, said Andhra finding strength from she knew not where. We can and we will. I will prepare us traveling packs. You finish with Papa.”
“No, we do everything together from now on. I cannot allow you to leave my sight until we know more.”
“Fine, I will wait while you work. Do him proud.”
Andhra turned back to the stranger. Papa was not here to stop her know and she would know why. She would know or she would squeeze the life from this stranger’s mind. She could do it. She knew she could even if the book had not explained how.
Whispering the words so that Dahey could not hear while he gathered the vials and chanted the ritual preparation songs, she seized control of the strangers mind. She was unprepared for the massive amount of thoughts that flooded hers. Until this moment, she had not attempted to control any animal larger or more civilized than a wildcat that roamed the chicken pens in there back yard.
The first and only thought she caught was his name, Quinn Cantos. After that, chaos. He fought her with a strength that frightened her and made her want to utter the final word. She refused. She needed to know and even without knowing how or why, she knew she was mentally stronger than her opponent was.
Andhra allowed her mind to search the gray haze of Quinn’s mind. It was a forest, a maze. No specific thoughts surfaced. No indication of why he had attacked. She moved closer to the center of his thoughts searching for one loose thread that she could grab. Once she had one thought, she knew she could use that to find others.
She stared into his eyes as she held onto his mind. They revealed nothing. If anything, they were laughing at her. He smirked at her. A tiny grin to say that she wasted her time. Andhra reached deeper than she had ever reached into a mind before not realizing that as she searched his mind, he was also searching hers.
She heard Dahey still chanting in the background. He had reached the song of Eternal Peace. She did not have much time left before he would finish and it would be time to leave. Because she had allowed her mind to wander for those few seconds, Quinn seized control. She turned her eyes back, startled and wide she fought to regain her position over him.
It was of no use. She could feel him rifling through her memories. He reached the point where she had talked to Linde and stopped.
“Choose, he said.”
The last word and still she was not free. What did she need to choose? She could no longer speak. She wanted to call out for Dahey. Trapped. Quinn had trapped her mind.
“Choose, now. Am I a friend? Am I an enemy?”
Friend and enemies, she fought to recall what Linde had told her about friends and enemies. She had not said anything other than to ask a question. Andhra thought was there a difference. Could her enemy be her friend? This man, this stranger that was responsible for killing her Papa could never be anything other than an enemy and yet she knew that if she did not choose wisely Dahey would be preparing her to lie beside her Papa.
“Friend, I choose friend, she thought.”
She felt the break, the releasing of the mind holds. His from hers and at the same time he expelled her from his. Her mind filled with pain and she fell to the floor. Maybe controlling a human was not as easy as controlling a wildcat.