The Mirror of the Moon (Revenant Wyrd Book 2) by Travis Simmons Page B

white stone, grassy banks, and mundane creatures.
    The evening seemed to pass incredibly fast. Angelica and Joya had been given the duty of picketing the horses for the night, which inevitably repeated Grace’s morning ritual. Jovian built the fire while Maeven provided the food, and Grace set up the beds.
    Before long, their bellies full and their bodies warm, they laid down to bed, Maeven and Jovian taking the first watch.

    As she began to fall asleep, Joya felt wyrd wrapping around her, wyrd so heavy and powerful that it felt tangible, as if her teacher was not only forming in her mind, but also in the very air of the camp itself. She knew that tonight would be different than anything she had ever experienced, and the idea made her both nervous and exhilarated. Finally her tiredness won and she sank irrevocably into sleep’s sweet embrace.

    Jovian found a spot and sat down, waiting for Maeven to join him. When he did, it was with two steaming mugs of tea. Jovian accepted his with a nod of gratitude; first watches were always hard for him to take, for that was when he seemed to be the most tired.
    “So, the son of a wealthy plantation owner,” Maeven commented as he sat beside Jovian, who gave him a strange look. This was the first time that Maeven had actually put forth an effort to get to know him, and at first Jovian was a little wary. Normally Jovian was the one to start conversation, though the topics never breached on anything regarding their pasts, though their experiences were often mentioned. “I have always been interested in how a lucrative plantation is run, especially after seeing how splendid your home was on the night of your birthday.”
    Jovian took a sip of the hot brew and shrugged nonchalantly. “There really isn’t much to say. I was only instructed in accounting and dealing with trade so far as covering if something ever happened to Amber, as were the rest of us. Amber is the firstborn and therefore is the rightful heir to the Neferis wealth. We trade in wheat and corn, though this year because of the horrible windstorm our crops were ruined, and there would be no income, which will not only be bad for our plantation, but also all those we trade with. I am afraid that our rivals will make a lot of money this year, and no doubt inflate their prices.”
    “I had heard about that windstorm; awful strange wasn’t it? Even more peculiar how it only battered your lands and none others.” Maeven looked at Jovian as if he was expecting an answer from the younger man, but when none was forthcoming he continued. “It is said that a hag is responsible for great storms like that. You might have heard of her in classes with Destra.”
    “That was a main subject she taught us when the storm was in progress. Yes, I know of whom you speak, if you are speaking of Baba Yaga.”
    “Indeed I am,” Maeven conceded, peering around them as if mentioning her would summon her wrath upon them. He took a sip of his tea with disinterest now that Jovian had caught on.
    “What makes you think she is so bad?” Jovian inquired.
    “There are countless tales of her treachery and punishment of those that did not sacrifice to her!” Maeven said, perplexed at how Jovian could not see what was clearly before him.
    “Sacrifices that have not been made in ages.”
    “And she destroyed your crops,” Maeven whispered, taking another drink.
    “If she had been mad, don’t you think that she would have done something more than just destroy the Neferis crops?” Jovian asked, raising an eyebrow. “Instead she would have decimated much more than that. Besides, books can be misleading, and I am sure that not all of what the majority says is really completely true. After all, legends are prone to fabrication, and people to fear and superstition. Did you know at one point in time she was thought of as a fairy?”
    Maeven did not answer and Jovian smiled inwardly wondering how they could go from civil conversation to near