Free Moonlight by Ann Hunter

thought if they were truly starving, it was because this one ate more than his ration.
    “Is this the elusive girl you’ve been ranting about all winter, Commander?”
    Xander smiled at Aowyn.
    The soldier bucked his head. “What’s your name?”
    Aowyn drank from her cup.
    Xander shook his head. “She cannot speak.”
    “Cannot speak? Did we cut out your tongue in one of our glorious pillages?” The soldier leaned toward Xander. “Please tell me we didn’t cut out her tongue.” He sat up straight again. “I’m sorry if we cut out your tongue.”
    Xander held up his hand. “We’ve had no glorious pillages, and no one cut out her tongue.”
    A breath of relief escaped the soldier. “She’s too pretty to cut a tongue from.”
    Aowyn’s nose wrinkled as she stuck out her tongue dubiously.
    Xander smiled.
    More soldiers joined them, and all begged for attention from their visitor. At one point Xander jokingly warned that they should be careful or the girl might literally beat them off with a stick, and quite capably. He showed them the red mark on his arm and brushed back his hair to reveal a smart bruise forming on his forehead. They agreed that such a spirited girl had been worth searching for.
    Aowyn could see their spirits lifting in her presence. Yet deep down she couldn’t help feel nagging resentment. These were the enemy. She had no reason to trust them. They had been trying to take her father’s kingdom away. The Summer Isle had not seen war for generations, save for civil bouts between Underlords. All Aowyn knew of war existed in history books and her own imagination: heroic men who gave their lives for king and country, not this ragtag bunch of blaggards. They were good men, even if they were led by a murderer.
    Aowyn knew she couldn’t think of Xander like that, though. She could see now that he had acted out of necessity. These men had so little. Xander had not seen Aowyn’s brother and shot him on sight— he had seen prey and acted accordingly. How unfortunate that the two, swan and brother, intertwined. Her heart still ached for her lost brothers, and for that she could not let go of the fact that Xander had indeed been cause of their demise. She knew if she wanted to avoid having it happen again, she would have to help them find food. That meant more than just pointing them in the right direction. It meant dealing with Ciatlllait.
     
    ***
    Ciatlllait prostrated herself before the Fomóraiġ and Sluagh shadows on the wall. Her fingers moved like spiders on the floor, hovering over the stone and dancing on fingertips. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her mouth opened. “A child.”
    She inhaled deeply and let out a hiss. “Give me a child.”
    The shadows gathered around a figure, pushing it forward. Ciatlllait raised her arms over her head then threw them behind her. Her chest heaved. Her body swayed.
    Sylas Mortas looked on from behind her. His teeth bore a pleasurable grin. “I will give you a child. One such the world has never seen. How terrible the creature!”
    Ciatlllait licked her lips. “Give me its name.”
    “Donestre.”
    “He shall have the heart of a lion.”
    Sylas slipped his yellow nails through Ciatlllait’s hair and pulled her head back. He brought his mouth to her ear. “Magic comes with a price, my love.”
    Ciatlllait writhed to the beat of the drums only she could hear.
    The form in the Fomóraiġ and Sluagh shadows took shape. It grew as tall as a man with a shaggy, square head. A lion’s roar filled the room. The form slashed through the demons, slicing off shadow heads, gobbling up shadow bodies, and weeping all the while.
    “He shall be our prince,” Sylas whispered.
    Ciatlllait began to moan and thrust her hips
    The Donestre form charged toward her. A shadow streaked between the wall and Ciatlllait until it overcame her. Ciatlllait moved beneath it as it slowly shrank away toward her belly.
    Sylas slithered over her and bit into her neck. “Loathe