"But Maleva said-"
"Maleva said it would control your shapechanging for seven moons."
"Right."
"But only if you worship Selune."
"Yes, that was the deal."
"It wasn't a deal, Talbot. Mind if I call you Tal?" She was sipping on her wine now, but her cheeks were already pleasantly flushed. "She was explaining how it works. It suppresses the call of the moon if you are a worshiper of Selune."
"Oh," said Tal. "That's not exactly the way she put it."
"That is exactly the way she put it," said Dhauna. "It's just not exactly the way you heard it. Drink some wine. You look confused."
"Thank you," he said, following her example and draining half his glass in one smooth draught. He frowned to think he'd come all this way only to hear the high priestess of Selune tell him the same thing Maleva had already told him.
"Now you look sad. I like you the other way better. Drink some more."
At that, Tal laughed softly. Dhauna's banter took the edge off his disappointment far better than more wine could ever do.
"You're welcome among the faithful," she said in a less frivolous tone. "You truly are, and not just because the ratio of women to men is approaching eight to one. In fact, I think you will find eventually that your place is among us."
Tal shook his head gently, but she spoke again before he could comment.
"Just not yet," she said gently, reaching over to pat him on the knee. The gesture seemed far more friendly than patronizing.
"No," Tal agreed. "It's not that I mean any disrespect."
"I know," said Dhauna. "You're just a bit of a hot-head, a little too young, a little too wild. Our job is to see that you have a chance to grow out of it."
Tal wasn't sure whether he liked the sound of "our job," but he already knew he liked Dhauna Myritar and wanted to hear what she had to say. He had not done a particularly good job of listening to advice from Maleva and Feena.
"I do need help," said Tal.
"Then I'll send you someone," said Dhauna. "It will take some tune to arrange, but soon. In return, you must provide room and board, and you must listen and take what she says seriously."
"She?"
"One of our initiates," said Dhauna. "As you might have noticed, most of our clergy are women."
"Chaney would like it here," said Tal.
"So would you," said Dhauna. Before he could protest, she added, "Just not yet."
They smiled at each other.
"There is one thing that Maleva didn't tell me," he said as she sipped some more wine. "I overheard her daughter say something about a Black Wolf heresy."
Wine spurted from Dhauna's nose. She caught most of it in the glass, which she set aside.
"Your grace, I didn't mean-"
"It's all right," she said, mopping her chin with a handkerchief drawn from her sleeve. "I should have expected that. Just don't mention it openly, not here. After all, it is a heresy."
"Of course."
"You know what heresy means? It means it's untrue. Still, it's a big lie that comes from some little truths. Did you tell Maleva when you were born?"
"Yes, she asked me that. The time, too."
"Were you born during a new moon?"
"I don't know. She didn't say anything more about it."
Dhauna sighed.
"What does that mean?"
"Well, it means either you were born under a black moon or you weren't. We don't know, since Maleva enjoys being mysterious. That works well with the people where she lives, but it's annoying to civilized people like you and me."
Tal chuckled.
"That wasn't a joke," she said, frowning.
Tal wiped the smile from his face, but he felt a blush rise to his cheeks.
"But that was," said Dhauna, shaking her head mirthfully. "Don't be so gullible."
"You don't seem very much like a high priestess," said Tal.
"You don't seem very much like a werewolf," she replied. "Not tonight, at any rate."
"About the Black… thing… business," he prompted.
"If you were born during a black moon, a new moon, then it might be easier for you to learn how to ride the moon. That's our poetic and mysterious way of saying, learn how to control the change."
"Why didn't Maleva tell me about that?"
"Well," said Dhauna, "perhaps she was trying too hard to persuade you to join the temple."
"That can't be it. She was really trying to help me. I can't believe she would just leave out telling me that I can control the change."
"You haven't proven that you can," said Dhauna. "Not everyone succeeds at it, especially those bitten by wolves, boars, and the other savage beasts. Those who suffer the benign lycanthropy have it much easier."
"Benign lycanthropy?"
"Werebears, for instance," said Dhauna. "They are not as susceptible to the call of the Huntmaster."
"You mean Malar, don't you?"
She nodded.
"He's also called the Black Wolf, isn't he?"
"Sometimes my attendants listen at the door," she said. "Don't embarrass me."
"Sorry."
"The temple of Selune does not actively oppose the Beastlord," she said. "We're not friendly with his followers, and some of our clerics take it upon themselves to defend folk against lycanthropes-with our blessing, naturally- but we concern ourselves primarily with other evils."
"Like Shar and Mask," suggested Tal. He had read that the clerics of Selune were especial enemies of the goddess of darkness and the god of thieves.
"Exactly," she agreed. "There are so many dark gods, and we of Selune's faithful must devote our energies to thwarting the minions of her foes."
"And Malar is not one of her foes."
"No," said Dhauna. "Not in the same way."
Tal had a glimmer of insight, a half-formed idea that dissolved even as he tried to make it take shape. Somehow he realized that he had almost grasped a hidden truth, but it had slipped away. Its passing left another, lesser question.
"Maleva is not in good standing with the temple, is she?"
"No," allowed Dhauna. "Even though we are old friends, she has chosen a different path."
"Because she wants to oppose Malar."
This time Dhauna's sigh was full of weary resignation. 'The matter is more complicated than you know, for reasons that I won't share with you."
Tal thought about what she had said. "You said Svon't.' "
"I did."
"One of the Old Chauncel-the old families who run Selgaunt-one of them would have said 'can't.' "
"But that would have been a lie, Tal."
He smiled. Perhaps he had not found all the answers he had hoped for, but he trusted this Dhauna Myritar, and through her he trusted Maleva more than ever, despite her mysterious ways.
"Thank you," he said, standing up to bow to the cleric. "May I visit you again some day?"
She rose and offered him her hand, raising one sly eyebrow. "Are you already considering joining us?"
"No," he said, "but perhaps we could sit and drink some wine."
Chapter 7
Tarsakh, 1371 DR
Darrow turned the key and paused to listen. He heard nothing from the other side of the door, so he carefully pushed it open.
Inside, shafts of daylight slanted from the ceiling thirty feet above. The intervening floors had been torn away except for a wide ledge on each side, forming a crude double balcony in the vast room. Perhaps once these had been receiving halls and parlors, bedchambers and libraries. Long ago, the Malveens lived here. Since then, it had been cut open to serve as a catacomb for unwanted cargo.
The upper ledges were filled with shipping crates and pallets of barrels, as was most of the ground floor, where they formed a twisting maze. Built upon the huge central beam was a peculiar double crane for raising and lowering the stores.