Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light (12 page)

“Ask my brother? What does he—”

Alicine spun around and planted her hands on
her hips. “What does he ever have to do with it, Falyn?”

Falyn took a startled step back, her eyes
wide, but then they resumed their normal cat-like shape. “Don’t
play word games with me, Alicine,” she said. “What did Sheireadan
do to Dayn?”

“What do you care?” Alicine said. “You never
cared what your brother did to him before. Why trouble yourself
with it now?”

Falyn scanned the crowd, then grabbed Alicine
by the arm. “We need to talk. Privately.”

Alicine felt herself pulled and pushed toward
the stage and the makeshift curtain that hung at its side. She
would have protested had she not been so startled by the urgency of
Falyn’s voice and surprisingly strong grip.

“Now, tell me what happened between Dayn and
Sheireadan,” Falyn ordered.

Alicine shrugged her arm free. “All I know is
I saw them over by the exit during the ceremony. I could just see
them between the break in the flap, and they were having words. I
couldn’t hear them over the music, thank goodness. If I had, then
everybody else would have, too, and once again Dayn would have
ended up taking the brunt of it. He’s had enough of that in his
lifetime, don’t you think?” She shot Falyn a penetrating glare,
determined to drive her point home.

“Of course he has. You make it sound as if I
don’t . . .” Falyn glanced around. “What do you think they were
talking about?”

“I don’t know, but from the expressions on
both their faces it looked bad. What was really strange was that it
was Sheireadan who ran off this time, not Dayn.”

“So why are you looking for Dayn if he wasn’t
the one who ran away?”

“Because of the way he looked at me. He
didn’t have to say a word. I could see it in his face; he was
leaving.”

“You make it sound like—”

“Like maybe he’s going away forever or
something? Why do you even care, Falyn? You barely ever paid him
any attention, even when . . .” Alicine paused. She knew she should
not speak for her brother, but perhaps it was time it was said.

Falyn stepped in closer. “Even when
what?”

“Even when he was trying so hard to make you
like him.”

“What?” Falyn asked, drawing the simple word
out slowly. “But he never had to try. I always liked him.”

“Too bad you never bothered to tell him.”

“How could I? I mean, I’m not allowed.” Falyn
turned her eyes to her feet, clearly shamed.

“I don’t know why you’re not allowed, but I
tell you this, you’ll never be the cause of Dayn’s grief again. Not
you, not Sheireadan. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go look
for my brother.”

Alicine turned and took a step, but Falyn
yanked her back. “You make this out to be all my fault. You know
full well why I’m not allowed.”

“I know no such thing,” Alicine said.

“Yes, you do. You know it’s my father. That
it’s all the fathers. You know they’re afraid of Dayn fraternizing
with their daughters. You’ve heard the talk. There’s no way you
couldn’t have.”

“That sort of talk is too ridiculous to be
taken seriously,” Alicine said.

“Listen, Alicine, I know it’s hard, but you
need to take it seriously. Most people have a part in them that
tolerates Dayn, but it’s the fear of him that stays utmost on their
minds. He’s not a child anymore. He’ll soon be of the age to court,
and folks aren’t going to risk him fathering more of his kind.
Can’t you understand that?”

Alicine clenched her shaking hands at her
side. She would have knocked the girl into the dirt right then and
there had her heart not reminded her that Falyn was only telling
the truth.

“I’ve heard the gossip,” Alicine said, “but
after hearing it most of my life, I’ve learned to ignore it.”

“Well, maybe this time you shouldn’t have
ignored it,” Falyn said.

Alicine folded her arms and rolled her
eyes.

“You can act all high and mighty if you want,
Alicine, but isn’t it possible you just wanted it to go away? That
you didn’t want it interfering with your life anymore? Didn’t you
feel some sense of relief when Dayn avoided town these past several
months? Wasn’t it nice not to have to worry about him for a
change?”

“How dare you say that to me.”

“You think I don’t know how it is? You think
I don’t know what it’s like to live in the shadow of a brother’s
reputation? Turning a blind eye will do you no good. Trust me, I
know.”

“You’re one to talk about turning a blind
eye, Falyn. I don’t recall ever seeing you stand up to Sheireadan.
Where were you all those times he was beating up my brother?”

“If I’d defended Dayn it would have only made
things worse for him. I couldn’t bear to see him hurt any more than
he already was. If I’d defended him, Father would have found out,
then he would have suspected that . . . You know Father is a member
of the Vestry.”

“A word from you to your father, just a word
might have—”

“You don’t have to live with the man,
Alicine. You have no idea what it’s like. Why didn’t your father
ever go to mine about it, or to any of the other fathers for that
matter? Why didn’t anyone? Why didn’t you? I don’t recall hearing
you complain about the talk recently. Maybe you were too busy with
your Summer Maiden ambitions to be bothered.”

Alicine gasped, stung by the words.

“You knew it would come to this,” Falyn said,
eyeing Alicine’s stricken face. “That one day Dayn would be forced
to realize he’ll never fit in, no matter how hard he tries. That
people will always say he’s—”

“Don’t you dare say it!”

“That he’s a demon. You know that’s what they
say.”

“And what do you say, Falyn?”

Falyn glanced around, then bent her head
close to Alicine’s ear. “I say he’s the nicest boy I ever met,” she
whispered. “Even though I’m not supposed to say it.”

“But you’re saying it now.”

“Yes, I’m saying it now. But only to you. The
truth is, I like Dayn. I’ve always liked him. Very much.” Pink
rushed to Falyn’s cheeks, revealing more than her words had
said.

Alicine stared for a stupefied moment then
sputtered, “You mean . . . you . . . care for him?”

“Sshhhh! Please, this is between us.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“Of course not! I couldn’t tell him. I
couldn’t tell anyone.”

“So why did you risk speaking with him this
morning? What made you so brave all of a sudden?”

“I hadn’t seen him in so long. I couldn’t
help it. I thought since you were with him it might go unnoticed. I
had to see him, but now this has happened and all because of
me.”

Alicine studied Falyn’s pained expression,
and for the first time realized that Dayn wasn’t the only one
suffering. “I’m sorry, Falyn. I’m just scared. What if something
happens to him?”

Falyn grabbed Alicine’s hand in hers. “We’ll
find him. Come on.”

They rushed toward the exit and made their
way out into the blinding daylight. They didn’t expect to find Dayn
quickly, but it was clear that word of him had spread throughout
the crowd. Patches of twittering patrons dotted the grounds, voices
all aflutter with the latest gossip about the strange white-haired
boy. Eyes, some dancing with delight, others dark and threatening,
turned in their direction. Swells of excited voices rose and fell.
“Dayn . . . demon . . . attacked . . .” Words Alicine could hear
all too clearly now. She and Falyn froze in their tracks, aware of
the stares now aimed in their direction.

Alicine clenched the fabric of her skirt to
keep her hands from trembling. In the distance she could see
Sheireadan, his face contorted and his arms gesturing in the air.
The crowd of spectators around him
oohed
and
awed
,
entranced by the animated, and no doubt exaggerated, tale he was
spinning. Sheireadan looked at Alicine and mouthed an
indecipherable comment. He pointed a shaky finger in her direction
and all heads turned. Clearly Sheireadan’s encounter with Dayn had
involved more than just hurt feelings.

“My god, Dayn,” Alicine whispered. “What did
you do?” She and Falyn looked at each other, their mouths
agape.

“Alicine!” a voice called.

Alicine’s heart leaped. It was her mother,
calling for her through the bustling crowd at her back.

“Alicine!”

“Here, mother! Here!” She turned and rushed
toward her mother’s voice, then threw herself into her arms.

“Child, what is it?” Morna asked. “Are you
all right? Where’s your brother?”

“I don’t know where he is, Mother, and people
are saying things. I don’t know exactly, but I think he’s run
away.”

“Run away?” Morna exclaimed. “But he was just
watching you get crowned, wasn’t he? Didn’t you see him?”

“No, Mother, he didn’t see me get crowned.
Sheireadan came and—”

Morna stiffened. “Sheireadan?” She glanced
toward the boy ranting in the background, then took Alicine by the
shoulders and stared into her face. “What happened, Alicine? What
did Sheireadan do? Tell me!”

“I—I’m not sure. It was hard to tell from
where I was. But Dayn looked strange, like he was going to hit
Sheireadan or something. He didn’t, but Sheireadan ran off
anyway.”

“Dayn looked strange? How? How did he look
strange?”

“I don’t know, his face, twisted or
something. Like he was someone else, not himself. But I told you, I
couldn’t see it all that well.”

“You say Sheireadan ran away. That doesn’t
sound like him.”

“I think Dayn’s left the festival, Mother. He
looked at me odd, then waved goodbye. The next thing I knew he was
gone, but there was no way I could stop him. I was up on that
stupid stage.” Alicine yanked the circlet off of her head and threw
it to the ground. “I never should have made him come today.”

“There’s no time for laying blame,” Morna
said. “We have to find him. But first we must find your father.”
She ushered Alicine in front of her, then briefly turned to address
Falyn. “Falyn dear,” she said, “you’d best be getting back to your
family. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

Falyn nodded, then said, “Alicine, if you
see, I mean,
when
you see Dayn, please tell him—”

“Don’t worry,” Alicine said, “you’ll see him
soon, I promise. Then you can tell him yourself.” She smiled, and
Falyn smiled back.

Alicine and Morna made their way through the
crowd as swiftly as they could, casually greeting pedestrians so as
not to draw unwanted attention.

“There’s your father!” Morna said, pointing
in his direction.

Gorman could be seen storming toward them,
his face ashen. He reached them in an instant and grabbed them both
by their elbows, then spun them in the opposite direction. “We’re
leaving. Now,” he said and pushed them forward.

“But Father, what about Dayn?” Alicine
asked.

“I don’t think Dayn’s here,” Gorman said.

“But, where—” Morna started to say.

“No questions. Just get to the wagon.” Gorman
guided them between two tents, away from the crowded main corridor,
and toward the hill beyond.

“But where are we going? Do you think he’s
headed home?”

“We’re going to see Eileis,” Gorman said.

“Isn’t Eileis here at the festival?” Morna
asked.

“No. She took ill and went home.” Gorman
continued to usher them toward the cluster of wagons.

Morna rushed to keep pace. “But if she’s ill,
should we bother her?”

“Good god, woman! Dayn knows! We have to find
him!”

Morna let out a startled cry but was not
allowed to break stride. “He knows?” she cried. “He knows?”

“Knows what?” Alicine asked. But there was no
reply. “Knows
what
?”

“I said no questions,” Gorman barked as he
steered them through the maze of rigs.

“There!” He let go his grip on their arms and
took off in a dead run, abandoning them entirely. Upon reaching the
wagon, he leaned over the side and fumbled around, tossing
blankets, bags of sundries, and baskets of food aside. Pulling out
Dayn’s jacket, he smiled and held it up as if it were a prize.

“He hasn’t been here,” he said. His face
looked cautiously hopeful. “See? His coat, it’s still here. Surely
the boy would not plan a trek to the mountains without his coat.”
He scanned the hillside and the festival grounds below.

“Gorman, you know Dayn always forgets his
coat,” Morna said.

Gorman’s face fell. He looked into the wagon
at the bags of lunch and bottles of water still sitting within it.
“Get in the wagon. Now.”

Alicine lifted her skirt and scrambled into
the back, tripping over the supplies scattered about. Morna
hurriedly took her place up front, while Gorman leapt into the
driver’s seat and snapped the reins. The horse leaped forward,
jerking the wagon as well as its passengers up the bumpy hillside
toward the road. Alicine clung to her perch for one precarious
moment, then slid off and lowered herself to her knees. She grabbed
the side of the wagon and hung on.

The Spirit Keeper did not live far from the
festival grounds, and they soon arrived at her tiny dwelling
located at the edge of the forest. Gorman barely waited for the
horse to come to a complete halt before he jumped from the wagon
and ran around it to help Morna down. His hands shook as he held
them out to his equally shaky wife.

Alicine rose from the lopsided pile of
sundries in the back and stepped toward the end of the wagon’s
bed.

“No, Alicine, you stay,” Gorman said.

“But, Father . . .”

“You heard me. No arguments.”

Alicine scowled and crossed her arms, glaring
at her parents’ backs as they raced toward the house of the Spirit
Keeper.

Gorman leapt over the single plank step that
led to the porch and rushed to the door. He banged his fist upon
it. “Eileis!” he shouted. “Eileis, open up!” He pounded again more
feverishly. “I know you’re in there woman! Open this door!” But he
didn’t wait for a response and kicked the door open with his
foot.