Stealing the Dark Moon

The True Lost Treasure

"What's your name?" she asked in a gruff tone.

"Foxkit," he said. "But my friends call me Kit."

Selene rolled her eye as if amused. "My little brother's full name is Stolen Moon. It's a bad name. Our mother died giving birth to him under an eclipse. All twelve of his litter mates were stillborn, and each death left a black mark on his paws. The Chief said Moony was ill luck for the pack, but I wouldn't let Gorefang kill him."

Kit started as her claws raked deep ruts into the ground inches from his feet.

"Moony's been nothing but trouble for me since he was a mouthful of fur," Selene growled. "Maybe I should've put him down—the lump head's my one, constant weakness! Forces me to be an outcast from my own pack . . . ."

Perhaps her life would be easier without Stolen Moon, but as Kit gazed at the majestic silver wolf by the creek he was glad that such a creature existed. He wished his own family had given him the same chance that Selene gave her brother.

Kit shrugged. "I think you're strong. You were strong enough to stand beside your brother when no one else dared—I don't think that's weakness."

Selene squinted at him through her lone eye. "You're a fool, Foxkit. But I'm the greater fool because I owe you a favor now." Rising, Selene shook her coat and powerful muscles rippled under her fur. "Come on, Moony," she said. "We'll catch a rabbit in the south glen."

Moony's ears perked up. "Rabbit? I like rabbit." His huge blue eyes fastened on Kit as he whispered in a low rumble. "Thanks, Kit."

Kit was startled as he realized that Moony had been following their conversation, after all. The two wolves melted into the forest like twin phantoms of light and darkness just as the sun broke through the trees. Kit blinked as the rays dazzled his eyes. Stupid sunbeams! He was lost, alone, miles from Mt. Galefang all because of this annoyingly cheerful sunrise. Pulling himself onto his feet and leaning on his crutch, Kit sighed as he wondered how many chances he had of making it back to the cavern alive. He could probably fit them all on a single hand, maybe even one finger.

But he'd barely taken one step towards the looming shadow of the mountainside when the brush rustled and Sheen strode into the meadow. She carried a reed basket of chestnuts and her cheeks bulged with a generous mouthful.

"What are you doing here?" she mumbled, spitting a nutshell from her mouth.

It wasn't really a question the way she said it; more of an invitation to leave now. Kit decided to inform her that the Galefang was just as much his home as hers—but he never got the chance.

The basket fell from her arms as Sheen surveyed the trampled meadow and scattered armor of the Hollow Knight. "Sweet clover!" she cried, agony wrenching her voice. "What's happened to all my incense charms?" Falling onto her hands and knees, she combed through the grass and gathered up smashed bundles of dried herbs and flowers. "My tracking spells are completely ruined," she seethed.

"Sorry," Kit said. He didn't understand her obsession with the palm-sized packets, but he guiltily moved his crutch aside as he noticed that it had impaled one of her precious bundles straight through the middle. He reached down to pick it up when Sheen slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch!" Sheen snapped, "or you'll contaminate it with your grubby peasant . . . gold?" Dropping her bundles, she seized his fingers, eying the gold dust rimming his nails and dusting his skin. The hair on Kit's skin prickled as Sheen suddenly shoved her head close and sniffed him. "You reek of dragon!"