Chapter One

Hurat

7^th of the Snow Moon

‘Have you seen it?’ They met at the crossroads. Jadewin’s breath clouded the crisp, cold air, catching the light from the lamp over a house’s locked door.

‘I caught a glimpse of her in Serrit Place.’ Alory shifted his feet, rubbing gloved hands up and down his arms.

‘It.’ Jadewin rebuked him. ‘You’ve seen it. Do not grant the thing more substance or reality than it has already gained.’

‘Of course.’  The young priest ducked his head, apologetic.

‘That will become second nature.’ Jadewin smiled to reassure him. ‘Lead on. This is your town’s recurrent phantasm.’

She followed Alory, huddled in her felted wool cape. The heavy cloth was as pale as the winter sun that was a token of the Goddess’s promise her blessed warmth would return with lengthening days. These couldn’t come soon enough for Jadewin.

The priestess walked cautiously on the treacherous cobbles. She had arrived here midway through the Ice Moon and learned that lesson the hard way as the days grew colder. Through the Wolf Moon following the Winter Solstice, the weak sunlight struggled to melt the trodden snow on Hurat’s narrow streets.

Wearing the black of a Moon God’s servant, bulky in a long-sleeved jerkin lined with sheepskin, Alory moved like a shadow ahead of her. Tall and broad-shouldered despite his youth, his heavy boots crunched on dark smears of ash strewn by householders mindful of Hurat’s by-laws.

They soon reached Serrit Place. The public fountain was dry, with its statue wrapped in sacking and straw to protect the finely carved stone from these months of shattering cold. Jadewin laid a gloved hand on Alory’s arm and pointed.

The figure on the far side of the square wasn’t someone returning late from revelry. Hurat’s townsfolk stayed close to their firesides in the depths of winter. These days, with rumours of horrors stalking the streets, no one went out after the shrine and temple bells marked the Sun Goddess’s rule over the day passing to the Moon God’s command of the night.

‘What do we do?’ Alory’s shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

Jadewin pushed back her hood. The waxing Snow Moon shone above them in a cloudless sky. Its light burnished threads of silver in her dark, coiled braids. ‘We take note, first of all. A phantasm’s form tells us about those whose fears and spite have spawned it. Where the thing goes and where it lingers will tell us more. We have to find this apparition’s source if we’re to extinguish it for good. I don’t propose to banish it tonight, to see it return tomorrow.’

Alory watched the phantasm walk back and forth across the square, like a dog casting for a scent.

When she had first seen the apparition, Jadewin could see the buildings behind it, as though she were looking through smoke. As it drew closer, the phantasm become more solid, more horribly real. The semblance of an age-withered woman approached; a short, hunched figure with toothless gums drawing its nose into a hook above a pointed jaw.

‘Someone fears growing old and poor, outliving husband and children or perhaps never marrying to have a family,’ the priestess observed calmly. ‘She needs reminding that solitary and destitute women will find shelter in the Sun Goddess’s almshouses.’

Alory didn’t say a word. Jadewin glanced at him and saw the Horned God’s young servant stare at the phantasm, wide-eyed.

‘This is no living soul,’ she said sharply. ‘Old women walk slowly and carefully, often with sticks and pain. This phantasm moves like a girl. It doesn’t fear slipping on ice-glazed cobbles. This is a vile mockery of life, and we will dispel it.’

Alory squared his shoulders.

Jadewin continued. She was here to teach the boy. ‘What can we learn from its clothing? A full-skirted sleeveless gown over a high necked under-dress is the latest fashion for the wealthy in Velasta. Whoever’s embittered dreams are dwelling on some grievance to call this phantasm forth, I’d say their family visits the capital regularly.’

‘That’s another sign.’ Alory cleared his throat. ‘No one real would venture outside in this chill without a cloak.’    

‘It might still attack, if we do something foolhardy to get its attention.’ Jadewin removed a glove and reached inside her cape. Her fingertips found her gold sunburst pendant on its chain around her neck.

‘Can it hurt us?’ the boy asked, apprehensive.

‘Not as long as our faith holds steady,’ the priestess assured him.

Moving with sudden purpose, the wandering apparition headed west.

‘Come on.’ Jadewin didn’t wait to see if Alory followed.

As it left the square, the phantasm studied the shuttered windows of the houses’ upper floors. Their glass-fronted balconies were thickly curtained against the cold. A short distance further on, it stalked towards a particular house.

Jadewin had been in and out of Hurat’s homes serving the goddess since she had arrived in this far-flung town. The dwelling’s heavy double doors would open into a flagstoned entrance hall which would store day-to-day deliveries, perhaps also a handcart, or a carrying chair if some elderly family member needed help to get from place to place. Stone steps on one side of the hall would go down to the cellars. A carved wooden staircase opposite would lead up to comfortably furnished rooms for socialising and dining, with bedchambers on the floors above.

The creature ran its hands over the painted doors. It was gaining a firmer foothold in this world. Jadewin could see its colourless talons; a manifestation of this recurring apparition’s name, whispered behind fearful hands. The Icicle Witch. The phantasm’s claws bit deep into the wood. Its triumphant hiss echoed in the empty street.

‘Alory, now!’ Jadewin drew her sunburst pendant out, its sudden radiance warming her hand.

The monster spun around, snarling, and strode toward the priestess. growing taller. It hissed louder, showing murderous fangs. Its clawed hands reached out to seize her.

Jadewin forced away thoughts of those talons tearing her clothing and digging into her flesh. ‘In the Golden Mother’s name, I deny you form and substance. I banish you to the unseen realm.’

She recalled the indistinct shadow she had seen on the far side of the fountain, spawned by a tissue of lies. The Icicle Witch was a spiteful story to scare children into a sham of good behaviour. A shaft of golden light from her pendant pierced the Icicle Witch like a sunbeam cutting through cloud.

‘You have no breath, no blood, no flesh,’ Jadewin declared. ‘You are not of this world.’

The phantasm froze. Alory stepped behind it, raising his hand. Moonlight coalesced into a long silver blade. The sword’s hilt formed as he closed his fingers. Alory slashed downwards, cutting deep into the apparition’s shoulder.

‘The peace of the night is the Moon God’s gift to the living,’ he said, furious. ‘You will not pollute his restful darkness with your terrors.’

The apparition shimmered, as translucent as clouded glass. Jadewin directed her pendant’s radiance into its snarling face. Alory hacked with his sword, again and again.  The phantasm’s clawed hands hung limp and useless. Any living creature would have collapsed, writhing in agony.

Jadewin stared into the phantasm’s inhuman eyes. She denied its right to exist with every beat of her heart. They had to rid Hurat of the monster before some householder was roused by their voices and opened a window’s shutters. If anyone glimpsed this walking nightmare, their efforts could be undone. ‘Return whence you came!’

The creature squirmed, trying to turn to attack Alory. Jadewin’s magic held it skewered. The young priest put his strength and faith into a two-handed stroke. The moon blade sliced through the phantasm’s midriff. The monster broke into fragments vanishing like leaves scattered by a wind.

~~~