Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light (10 page)

“I think I’ll walk, Father,” Dayn said. Maybe
getting his blood pumping would help clear his head.

Gorman snapped the reins and the horse began
the slow descent. Alicine settled back on her perch, her body
swaying to the movement of the wagon. The wind ballooned her skirt,
and she pushed it down with one hand while battling wayward curls
with the other.

Dayn followed behind and eyed her warily. She
looked especially pretty dressed in her festive best, or would have
were it not for the suspicious scowl planted on her face, a scowl
no doubt placed there for his benefit.

At last they reached the cluster of wagons
parked on the south side of the festival grounds. Their clan always
started their festival days there. That was where the Aeries met to
catch up on the various comings and goings, to discuss the weather,
the crops, and any other topic they hadn’t touched on since their
last visit. Living closer to Kiradyn than the rest of them, Dayn’s
immediate family rarely saw the other members of their clan,
especially since Gorman was determined his children would acclimate
more to Kiradyn ways. But still, Dayn’s family hadn’t given up
their clan ties entirely, and always made a point of reacquainting
themselves with them at the festivals.

Dayn lingered by the wagon and watched his
father embrace his older brother, Nort, a burly man with handsome
features much like Gorman’s. Both had their long black hair pulled
into the popular single braid, and both wore tunics of forest
green, the identifying color of their clan. From a distance Dayn
could barely tell the two of them apart, they looked so similar. As
he glanced around the crowd of people that milled about the wagons,
some family, some fellow clansmen, it occurred to him that they all
looked the same: same hair, same skin color, same style of
clothing. For a moment, the realization took him by surprise. He
was almost bored looking at all the sameness, and yet, more than
anything he longed to be just like them.

“Dayn.”

Dayn glanced over to see Haskel, his least
favorite uncle, heading his way.

“We haven’t seen ye in months,” Haskel said
upon reaching him. He arched a dark brow. “Have ye been hidin’ out?
Ah well, I suppose it’s fer the best.”

“No, Uncle. I’ve been busy.”

Haskel looked Dayn up and down and frowned.
“Ye’ve grown taller, boy. Didn’t think it possible.” He shook his
head. “I suppose ye can’t help what ye look like; it’s not like ye
chose it.”

Dayn winced and nodded. He didn’t appreciate
the reference to his height, but with Haskel he knew to expect
nothing less. The man had never been one for courtesies, but who
could blame him. He and his wife Vania were not skilled when it
came to social protocols. For too many years they had lived in
backwards isolation at their farm, caring for a son who wasn’t
quite right. How the boy “wasn’t quite right” was not clear to
Dayn; he had never been allowed to meet his cousin. But it was
common knowledge that Eyan was dangerous, and no one dared breach
the subject whenever Haskel or Vania were around.

“Dayn, Dayn, Dayn! My goodness, what a
handsome young man ye’ve become!” Aunt Vania wrapped her short,
chubby arms around his waist and squeezed him so tight he thought
the contents of his stomach would squish into his throat. He
grimaced at the pressure to his gut, but hugged her back without
complaint.

After the family exchanged greetings and
gossip, they dispersed and made their way in small groups toward
the tents beyond. Dayn was grateful for their departures. If he’d
had to lift one more little cousin ‘higher, Dayn, higher’, he was
certain his arms would drop from their sockets.

Alicine shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“Hurry up, I’ve got to get to the Pavilion,” she said. “The
crowning is one of the first events scheduled and I have to get
ready. My hair’s a mess.”

“You look fine,” Dayn said.

“Oh, what would you know. You’re a boy,” she
said. The smile playing across her lips revealed she knew she
looked fine. She just needed the reassurances of a mirror, that was
all. Obviously a brother wasn’t quite the same thing.

Dayn laughed. “Fine. What do I know? By the
way, your hair is
always
a mess.”

Alicine slugged him, making sure the knuckle
of her middle finger was extended. Dayn grabbed his arm in feigned
agony, twisting his mouth and rolling his eyes. Alicine’s face
reddened at his dramatic display, but he kept up the act, even
soliciting the aid of their mother against his sister’s cruel
assault. Morna scolded Alicine absentmindedly, but Alicine puffed
up nonetheless. Dayn grinned a victorious grin. The blow to his arm
hadn’t even hurt, at least not as much as Aunt Vania’s stomach
squeezing had, but it was so much fun seeing his sister riled.

“I’m sorry,” he said through the laughter
bursting from his throat. “Really, you look nice. And your punches
didn’t even hurt. You’re such a weakling.” He hooked his arm and
bowed, but he wasn’t being sarcastic. “I would be honored to escort
you to the Pavilion, oh beautiful Summer Maiden.”

Alicine smiled and looped her arm in his.
“And I would be honored to have you as my escort, handsome sir,”
she said through girlish giggles.

They walked arm in arm down the hill toward
the great tent known as the Pavilion. It was massive in size, ten
times the size of any tent on the grounds. Its color was a
brilliant blue and its roof would have faded into the nearly
identical sky had it not been decorated with red and green symbols
and its posts not been topped with snapping flags. Along its sides
were cracked and faded paintings that depicted scenes of the
Written Word, from Daghadar perched on a feather-like cloud, to a
flood of fire and rock swallowing a screaming, white-haired demon.
Dayn had seen these pictures on the Pavilion walls so many times in
his life that he seldom took notice of them anymore. But this time
he paused to look at the crudely depicted demon more carefully.

“Saying hello to your cousin?”

Dayn spun around and spotted Sheireadan
leaning against a nearby support post. The boy’s muscular arms were
folded across his chest and a cruel smirk was smeared across his
face.

Dayn’s first impulse was to run—that was
always his first impulse when he saw Sheireadan—but Alicine was on
his arm and his pride would not allow it.

“Leave him be, Sheireadan!” Alicine said.
“He’s done nothing to you.”

“He came here, didn’t he? That alone is
enough to make me want to puke,” Sheireadan said.

Alicine removed her arm from Dayn’s and took
a threatening step forward, her hands clenched.

Sheireadan curled his lip. “What are you
going to do? Hit me in front of all these people? Oh, that would be
grand. The Summer Maiden, picture of feminine beauty, fighting with
a boy.” He laughed.

“Come on, Alicine,” Dayn said. He took her by
the arm, attempting to usher her away, but she resisted and stared
Sheireadan hard in the eye. Dayn tightened his grip on her. “I
said, come on. There’ll be no fighting today.” He pulled her along
behind him and headed toward the flap that led to the back of the
Pavilion.

“You can’t hide, you know,” Sheireadan
shouted after him. “That would be impossible for someone who looks
like you, now wouldn’t it?” He laughed even louder than before, his
delight apparent.

Dayn gritted his teeth and muttered under his
breath, while Alicine twisted around to shout a select comment of
her own. He yanked her arm, then continued to drag her after
him.

“I can handle him, Alicine,” Dayn said,
stopping and jerking her to a halt. “You won’t fight him on my
account. Understand?”

“But Dayn—”

“No excuses! He’s my problem, not yours.” He
glared at Alicine with tempestuous eyes, determined to get his
point across. But then he spotted another problem, and it was
walking in their direction. The thought of flight returned to his
mind momentarily, but the fact that he was melting into a puddle
made it nearly impossible.

Dayn stared dumbly as Falyn headed their way.
The girl looked as though she were floating toward them on a soft,
dreamy cloud. The scenery behind her seemed to blur as strands of
nut-brown hair played in slow motion around her head. Her lavender
dress drifted around her body in hazy abandon, accentuating her
feminine curves. Dayn sucked in his breath as a quake of nerves
rippled through him. He suddenly felt shackled by his large
immobile feet. If he could just get them moving, there might still
be time for a graceful escape.

As Falyn drew nearer, Dayn noticed a strand
of hair whip across her face. She pushed it back, then reached both
hands up to secure the curls that had freed themselves from the
thick braid draped across her shoulder. A gust of wind grabbed the
ruffled hem of her skirt and floated it up, revealing bits of white
petticoat and shapely legs beneath. She pushed the sailing fabric
down and held it there.

Dayn felt his throat go dry as forbidden
thoughts rushed to his brain. He groaned, realizing his feelings
for her would soon be all too obvious. He stepped behind his
sister, but knew his sinfulness would not go unnoticed by the
Maker; Daghadar was surely planning a terrible punishment for him
at that very moment. Dayn crossed his arms and studied his boots.
Maybe if he and Alicine ignored the girl, she would simply walk on.
He glanced back up and felt his belly tighten. Alicine had stepped
aside and Falyn was now standing in front of him, looking straight
at him.

Dayn grinned sheepishly. Falyn was so
beautiful; he could not help but stare. His eyes followed the skin
that peeked over her collar to the thick braid cascading over her
breast. The sun danced off her hair, highlighting the rare and
subtle strands of copper that wound throughout the dark. He turned
his gaze to her face and lost himself in her eyes. The golden
specks within the brown seemed to sparkle like tiny autumn stars,
and for a moment he imagined they were sparkling for him.

“Dayn, where have you been?” Falyn said. “I
haven’t seen you in such a long time.” She reached out a hand and
touched him on the arm.

“I—buh—the—um—I.” God, he sounded like an
idiot.

Falyn laughed. “What did you say? I didn’t
quite catch that.”

Alicine nudged her brother in the ribs, then
leaned in toward Falyn, her brows raised. “Oh that’s just Dayn talk
for ‘I’m a stupid boy’,” she said.

The two girls burst into giggles. Dayn’s face
went hot.

“Oh, don’t pick on your brother so,” Falyn
said. She turned her gaze to Dayn who was eyeing her up and down.
“I know, I look silly in all this, don’t I?” she said, twisting her
body and twirling her skirt about her ankles.

“No! No, I—I think you look very—very nice,”
Dayn stammered. Why were the words so hard to get out of his
mouth?

Falyn blushed and looked down at her feet,
then up into his eyes. “Well, I am your sister’s handmaiden today,
so I had to look special.” Her lips parted in a genuine smile.

“You always look special,” Dayn said. He bit
his lip. Those words had come out easily enough. “No, I mean—”

“No? I
don’t
look special?”

“No—I mean—yes, you do look special. I mean,
you
usually
look special. Like now.” If only the earth would
open up and swallow him whole.

“Why, thank you, Dayn. I think,” Falyn said.
“You look very nice, too.” Then she smiled at him, the deep kind of
smile that goes beyond everyday courtesies, the kind that holds
special meaning, maybe even affection.

Dayn’s mind raced. What did she mean? What
was she saying? Was she just being nice? Did she really think he
looked good? Before his befuddled brain could form another
question, Alicine interrupted.

“We’d better get ready. It’s almost time,”
she said. She grabbed Falyn’s hand and pulled her toward the
dressing area that was draped for privacy behind the stage. The
girls waved back at Dayn as they made their way toward it. He
lifted a hand in weak response.

Dayn walked over to the flap to the right of
the stage and peeked inside. The stage was carpeted with cloths of
yellow and green and was decorated with massive bouquets. The air
was filled with a concoction of floral scents mixed with the aroma
of ginger cakes and spicy meats. People, all dressed in their
colorful finest, filled the massive tent. Some sat on cross-legged
stools, others on picnic blankets scattered along the grassy
auditorium floor. Still more stood against the back and sides of
the cavernous room. The wind billowed the Pavilion walls and roof
with low moans followed by quick snaps of canvas, but it could
barely be heard over the loud and excited voices of the crowd.

Dayn saw his parents sitting up front on a
blanket with Haskel and Vania. His mother spotted him and motioned
for him to join them. Dayn smiled and declined with a polite wave
of his hand.

A small group of musicians sitting to the
left of the stage plucked and strummed their instruments in
preparation for the upcoming performance. The crowd grew quiet as
the bandleader held up his hands, signaling that the ceremony was
about to begin. A ripple of nervous excitement made its way across
the room one final time, ending in hushed whispers.

The audience watched with rapt attention as
Eileis the Spirit Keeper, escorted by a young man who held her arm
in his, made her way up the plank steps to the stage. The young man
guided her to the center of the platform where he bowed and backed
away, leaving her to make her usual greeting to the crowd. Her
hands were clasped in front of her, and a smile was stretched
across her crinkled face. The sparkle in her eyes could be seen
even from the back of the enormous room. It was always the Spirit
Keeper’s role to introduce the girl who had been selected, and it
was apparent to everyone that she took particular delight in making
the introduction this year. Alicine had been her top student for
years, a rare thing for a girl from the clans, and her talent in
herbology was well known. It was Eileis who had recommended her for
Maiden.