CAUTION: SPOILERS!

(This page contains spoils for The Cursed Half Moon Book 1.)​

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Chapter 1

The Cloud

            The ground was strewn with the corpses of high elves. Hundreds of them.

I don’t know how long I stood there, staring open-mouthed as I took in the devastation.

            “What– happened?” Wren breathed.

            I looked back at her and saw tears filling my half-elf friend’s large, brown eyes. 

            These were her kin, I reminded myself, even if they did reject her.

            I was a half-elf too, but I was descended from wood elves instead of high elves.

            “There must have been a battle,” Gnombie said softly from where he sat on my black gelding, Tempest. The gnome didn’t have a horse of his own, but ever since he’d somehow brought Tempest back from the dead, I’d let him ride double with me.

            Tempest wasn’t quite the same as before, and I was still concerned about what dark ritual might have been used in his restoration. However, continuing our journey without a horse would have proved nearly impossible, so I hadn’t asked too many questions.

            “There wasn’t a battle,” Kraster, my half-brother, said. “There are no wounds on the bodies.”

            Kraster and I had the same father, a man who had stepped away from his family and into my mother’s arms just long enough to create me. I’d lived fifteen years in the same tiny town with him, his wife, and their dozen or so children. 

            Kraster, who was a few months younger than I, was the only one of my half-siblings to acknowledge my existence. He’d spent many years trying to befriend me when we were children, but I had resisted. Only once we found ourselves placed in the same army unit did I relent and allow my brother to become the first friend I’d ever had.

            Mentored by General Greyward, Kraster had risen steadily in the ranks of the Kempt army. He was one of the rare humans naturally gifted with magical abilities, which ensured that he was selected for special assignments and promotions.

            I’d spent my military career in his shadow, the only half-breed in the entire army.

            To be fair, it would have been much worse for me without him, because as my brother rose, he pulled me up with him. 

            For a while, our relationship was strained, but now I considered him my only true family. Even my mother was cold with resentment, as though it was my fault for being born an illegitimate half-breed.

            “What’s that stuff on their faces?” Wren asked, motioning toward the fallen high elves.

            Looking more carefully at the body on the ground before me, I could see a dark, purplish dust on his clothes and skin. The largest concentration of the substance was around the mouth and nose. As I studied it closely, some of it stirred, despite the lack of wind. For a moment, I thought the elf had returned to life; then I realized it was some sort of dark purple growth slowly emerging from his nose.

            Valor, Wren’s enormous chestnut horse, moved a step forward.

            “No!” I called out, backing away. “Don’t get any closer.”

            Wren gave me a look of confusion as I hurried back to Tempest and mounted in front of Gnombie. Quickly, I backed us away from the dead bodies. In my haste, we nearly bumped into Raspberry, Kraster’s bay warhorse.

            “They're dead, and we need to get out of here or we might be too,” I warned, steering Tempest away from the clearing filled with bodies. Thankfully, the others followed.

            I didn’t tell them what I had seen. We’d faced many terrors in the past few days. For all I knew, the moving growth could have been nothing but my mind creating fresh horrors that weren’t really there.

            In the late afternoon, we stopped in a meadow to give the horses a breather. I was looking back over the trees the way we’d come when a cry of surprise escaped my lips. Approaching steadily from behind was a gray cloud swirling with purple specks. The colors were the same shade as the dust I’d seen on the high elf’s corpse.

            “We need to move!” I cried, running to Tempest as the others hurried to their own mounts.

            At first, we pulled ahead of the cloud, but each time we slowed to let the horses walk, the gray and purple mist loomed closer. It felt like we were in a race against time, a race we were certain to lose.

            As we dashed through the trees, I felt a twinge of worry for Valor and Raspberry. Unlike Tempest, who no longer required rest or food, the pair were covered in lather and blowing hard. Both had been bred for long hours of toil, but we’d been on the road many days with little rest.

            Throughout the remainder of the afternoon, the cloud continued to advance. Even once it grew dark, we dared not stop our desperate flight. I had excellent night vision, a gift from my wood elf ancestors. Tempest also seemed to be able to see as well in the dark as if it had been sunhigh. With us in the lead, we continued on for many hours. Finally, we were forced to stop for fear one of the horses’ hearts might burst.

            We dismounted, and I checked Tempest. He showed no signs of fatigue and clearly could have continued. Feeling a slight chill, which I was getting used to, I stored the horse in my shadow. I didn’t know how it worked exactly, but Gnombie had said it was because of our bond. The strange creature would remain there, nothing but a cold prickle at the base of my skull, until I summoned him.

            An idea started forming in my mind. The only trouble was, we wouldn’t all fit on Tempest, and it would be very hard to pick from among my companions. 

            Kraster was my brother and more dear to me than any of the others, but Wren was the most necessary to our mission. She had been chosen specifically by Shal’eth, one of the great dragons of old. Wren also carried two of the eight stones we were seeking. Kraster had another, as did I, leaving us with four more to find and precious little idea of how to locate most of them.

            These thoughts churned chaotically in my mind while the others lay down to sleep. I knew there was no point in trying to join them. Instead, I paced among the trees, ears and eyes ever searching for signs that the cloud was closing in on us.

            Dawn found me still alert and watchful. I was about to rouse Kraster and Wren from where they lay when I realized I couldn’t see Gnombie. 

            Softly, I called his name. 

            “Yes?”

            I whipped around to find the gnome standing behind me.

            “There you are,” I sighed. “I was worried you’d wandered off and gotten lost.” 

            It wasn’t quite true, but it sounded plausible enough. Gnombie hadn't been part of our party from the beginning, and I sometimes questioned his reasons for coming with us.

            “It is not unusual for those of your height to overlook us small folk,” Gnombie said.

            I wasn’t sure if he was trying to make a joke or actually being serious. I never found out, because at that moment I heard the sound of ripping bark and cracking trunks.

            Both of us raced to the others.

            “Get up! Get up!” I yelled, shaking Wren awake as Kraster clambered to his feet.

            I glanced over my shoulder and saw that I was too late. The mist was less than thirty feet away from us. As the trees were engulfed, they began to erupt. Strange purplish gray growths, crystal-like in nature, broke through their trunks, each releasing a spray of spores.

            We had less than thirty seconds before we would be inside the cloud, leaving me almost no time to react. Mentally, I summoned Tempest, who was by my side in an instant. I was closest to Wren and, through sheer adrenaline, threw her onto the horse.

            “Kraster!” I screamed, turning and seizing his arm. “Get up behind her!”

            “But–”

            “There’s no time!” I cut him off. “Take this and go!”

            I fumbled in my pouch for the green stone I’d had for only a few short days.

            It didn’t matter what happened to me; I just wanted them to live! If any of us could complete our quest, it was Kraster and Wren. I might die here, but they would survive. They had to. The world needed them.

            The instant my fingers touched the stone, warmth washed over me. What’s more, a transparent green aura, fifteen feet in diameter, spread out around us. When the cloud of spores met it a second later, it did not penetrate the barrier.

            I stared in shock, then turned to look at the others. All of them appeared similarly confused.

            “Did you do that with the stone?” Wren asked breathlessly.

            “I think I may have,” I whispered, glancing down at where it glowed in my hand. This one was called The Heart of Jong and had the rune for life engraved on the top.

            “Whatever you are doing, don’t stop,” Kraster told me.

            I nodded, afraid to even draw breath lest the enchantment falter. The cloud had completely surrounded us. Every tree outside the bubble was afflicted by the crystalline growths.

            “What now?” Gnombie asked after a minute had passed, and the mist around us did not dissipate. If anything, it seemed to have gotten thicker.

            Carefully, I took one step forward. The ethereal walls surrounding us moved too, pushing the spores back. Several trees passed through. The purple growths on their trunks turned completely black and didn’t release any spores.

            “Get your horses,” I ordered. “We need to get out of here before this stone runs out of magic.”

            “I don’t think it will,” Wren said, sliding down from Tempest.

            “Why not?” Kraster asked. He was quickly saddling Raspberry.

            “It powered Jong for a long, long time,” Wren explained while tacking up Valor. “Then it kept the half-elf town under Morana’s spell for centuries. I seriously doubt it’ll stop working in the next few minutes.”

            “Well, it might take longer than that to get out of here,” I argued, wondering if I would have to stay awake the whole time. “And I don’t even know what the stone is doing exactly.”

            “It’s giving life,” Wren replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course, once she said that, it made perfect sense.

            We moved more slowly than yesterday. I didn’t dare let go of the stone and held it tightly clenched in my fist. Kraster and Wren kept their horses close to Tempest. Gnombie rode behind me as usual. He hadn’t said a word, and I hoped he wasn’t angry that I’d tried to save the others instead of him. 

            An hour after noon, I heard cries coming from ahead. I alerted the others and pushed Tempest into a trot. We emerged from the trees into a clearing. There were several high elves on the ground. As we drew near, the aura of the stone pushed the spores away from their bodies, and I saw that one of them was still alive.

            He was an adult, but young, probably less than fifty years old. I dismounted and approached cautiously. He’d been writhing but now lay still. When I was only a few feet away, he coughed up a mouthful of dark, clotted blood and opened his eyes. They were shot with black veins, and I knew we were too late.

            “How did this happen?” I breathed, not sure if he could answer. I knelt beside him and took his hand. It was as cold as death. I was vaguely aware of Wren and Kraster checking the others.

            “The tree,” the young elf croaked, black blood escaping his lips. “The Tree of Karradin– it started there, and– and the poison spread to the others. The cloud kept getting bigger– and more– potent.” 

            I glanced up at my brother, who had come to stand beside me. He shook his head solemnly, and I knew that none of the elf’s companions were still alive.

            “We fled. We ran all day and night– trying to catch the others, but– but they had horses, and we fell behind,” he choked. “We– we couldn’t escape.”

            “Wren, summon Puvva,” I ordered, realizing that there was a slight chance the genie might be able to save the elf’s life. 

            Puvva was some sort of water spirit who had been bound to a vessel long ago. Wren was her current master. She’d received possession of the genie from Shal’eth when he sent us to see The Oracle and begin searching for the stones.

            Wren nodded and raced to Valor’s saddlebags. She was by my side a moment later with Puvva’s vessel, which was a teapot. However, it was too late. The elf had gone still.

            “Do you think any of them survived?” Wren asked in a small voice. I knew she was thinking of Aki, the high elf who had helped us and might very well be Wren’s grandfather.

            “Many of the elves had magic, so there’s a good chance,” Kraster told her, then nodded to the elf on the ground. “He did say there were others ahead of him with horses.”

            “But if they were exposed–” Wren cut off, unable to say more. No one had any words to comfort her.

            We departed a few minutes later. My shoulders were heavy with sorrow and the fatigue of the last twenty-four hours. The horses were weary too but still managed to keep plodding forward.

            Just before nightfall, we made it to the edge of the forest. The land ahead was visible since the deadly mist ended at the treeline. It wasn’t until we had completely cleared the woods that I was able to take a deep breath and release the tension that had pressed down on me since the day before.

            I still waited until we’d put nearly a hundred yards between us and the forest before I unclenched my hand and returned The Heart of Jong to my pouch. As soon as I did, the green aura faded from around us, and I suddenly felt very cold.

            The evening was a blur as we unsaddled the horses and built a fire from the grass and scrub of the plain. As I was laying out my bedroll, I rested my head for a moment and fell asleep almost immediately.

            However, my slumber was short-lived.​​​​