Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (3 page)

As Dayn and Alicine slowly made their way
through, an uneasy silence surrounded them. There was no sign of
life, no birds or insects, no song of the wind, no fluttering of
leaves in the trees, not even the dry ones. They glanced nervously
at the towering walls of stone on either side of them. Perhaps it
was just as well there were no sounds. The slightest vibration
seemed as if it could bring the mountain down on top of them.

A landslide of pebbles trickled down the
slope, bouncing and echoing off the larger rocks below. The horses
responded with nervous neighs and dancing hooves.

“We need to get out of here,” Dayn whispered.
“This place gives me the chills.”

“Do you think it’ll be like this back home?”
Alicine asked in a worried tone.

“I hope not, but let’s not talk about it now.
I’m afraid anymore noise might bring something unpleasant down on
us…like that,” he said, motioning to an overhang of granite above
their heads.

They continued on as quickly and quietly as
the terrain would allow, and before too long the scenery changed
from that of potential entombment to a place to soar and breath
free. They paused atop an embankment and stared at the forest that
stretched down the mountainside. They had finally reached
it—Kirador—the place Alicine called home, but that Dayn no longer
could.

“We’re there, Dayn,” Alicine exclaimed.
“We’re finally in Kirador!”

But Dayn remained silent. He was happy for
his sister, but couldn’t bring himself to share in it.

“I can’t believe you actually got us here,”
Alicine said. “You did it!” She began to laugh, then cry, then
leaned over to Dayn and threw her arms around him, almost tumbling
from her horse.

“Whoa, hold on there girl,” Dayn said,
straightening her onto the saddle.

“Why the face?” Alicine asked, realizing her
brother’s gloomy expression. “Can’t you be happy at all? Surely
there’s room in your heart for the happier memories. You do have
some, don’t you?”

Dayn focused his eyes on nothing as he
contemplated an answer to her question. Then he said, “Well I
remember it felt pretty good to sleep in a real bed. I do look
forward to that.”

“That’s it? That’s all you can say? This is
your home. You grew up here for goodness sakes!”

“No, I grew up in Tearia.” Dayn searched her
face for a hint of understanding. To his surprise, he found it.

“I guess we both did,” she said. “Come on,
let’s go.”

Dayn forced a smile. “You’re right; we still
have a long way to go. No sense sitting here arguing about whether
I’m happy or not. I promised I’d get you home to Mother and Father,
and that I’ll do. At least
that
will make me happy.”

****

It took two days for their surroundings to
appear more familiar. As Dayn surveyed the peaks growing distant at
their backs, he began to chart in his mind approximately how much
further they had to travel. He had spent most of his life looking
up at the mountains. Now he just had to look at things from a
different perspective.

The cabin of their childhoods would be
nestled just below the high forests of the clan lands. Only
affluent citizens were allowed to own property in the fertile
bottomlands or live near the thriving coastal city of Kiradyn. It
was there that the Vestry council met, and it was there that the
political and religious powers of Kirador were firmly
entrenched.

Located on the southwestern border of Aerie
territory, their family’s cabin was closer to the thriving city
than the others of their clan. They visited Kiradyn frequently; his
mother’s healing potions were popular, and his sister had been one
of the few chosen by the Spirit Keeper for private tutoring.
Unfortunately, Dayn was frequently forced to tag along. More than
anything his parents wanted him to be accepted in spite of his
differences, so had worked hard to assimilate their ways with
Kiradyn customs and speech. But though Dayn may have sounded like a
Kiradyn, he would never look like one. As Dayn thought on it now,
he was grateful his parents had never moved closer to the city.
Though the rocky soil of their homestead had caused them nothing
but grief, at least he and Alicine wouldn’t have to pass any
Kiradyn homes to reach their own now, and there was little chance
of running into anyone other than a fellow clansman along the
way.

They continued their descent through a
seemingly endless landscape of firs and aspens and pines. Dayn had
expected them to reach home by late afternoon, but the bright
autumn sun had turned dim with a thin layer of clouds moving in
from the north, slowing their pace with the arrival of an early
season cold front.

The wind picked up, sending a rush of frigid
air whipping through the branches. Dayn tightened his collar around
his neck.

“I’m freezing,” he muttered.

“You’ve grown weak,” Alicine said.

“I suppose I have,” he replied. “Well, Mother
will have the fire going, and I plan to plop down in Father’s chair
whether he likes it or not and plant my feet right down in front of
that hearth.”

“Oh, so you think Father will give up his
chair for his run-away son? I don’t know…you might not have a
backside to sit on when he gets finished with you.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Dayn grumbled.

****

They did not reach the house as soon as they
had hoped. A veil of mist had descended upon them, followed by
storm clouds that ushered in stinging rain. They sat hunched on the
horses, their bedrolls wrapped around their shoulders, praying they
wouldn’t have to sleep another night on the blankets that were now
soaked through. But night was upon them before they knew it, and
they found themselves huddled against the cold bark of a tree, wet
blankets wrapped around them, their bodies seeking one another’s
for warmth.

In the morning they plodded on, stiff from
the dampness that penetrated their bones, their moods as dreary as
the weather that surrounded them. The horses slowly lumbered
through the woods, barely needing guidance. It was as if the
animals knew where they were going, or maybe they sensed a nice,
warm barn up ahead.

Dayn gazed through the mist. The landscape
would have seemed dismal had it not been spotted here and there
with bright orange leaves clinging to branches and blanketing the
dark forest floor. A sudden opening in the trees caught Dayn’s
attention. “There it is,” he said, unable to disguise his
excitement. “The house—there—through the trees!”

Alicine jerked her head up, her eyes wide.
“We’re there. We’re really there!” she said. She kicked in her
heels and urged the horse forward.

Dayn followed behind her, but realized she
was getting too far ahead. “Wait,” he called.

Alicine stopped and twisted around to face
him. “Wait for what? I’ve waited long enough! Come on. You’re too
slow.”

Dayn caught up to her. “Are you planning on
running through the door with me still back in the woods
somewhere?” he said. “Don’t you think we should ease into this a
bit? I mean, Mother will keel right over if we just barrel in.
She’s probably going to keel over anyway, but…”

Alicine sighed, but resumed her place by his
side as they rode toward the house.

When they reached the edge of the clearing,
Dayn sensed that she was about to take off again. But then he
realized something was wrong. He threw out a hand. “Stop,” he
ordered.

“What do you mean stop?” Alicine said with
indignation.

“Something’s not right. It’s too quiet. Where
are the chimes?” Dayn’s eyes darted back and forth along the eaves
of the front porch. There had always been chimes there, dozens of
them in all shapes and sizes. Their mother had placed them there to
ward off demons. All Kiradyns did.

“Why would Mother have taken them down?”
Alicine asked, scrutinizing the house.

“I don’t know,” Dayn replied. “And you know
that nice warm fire I was looking forward to? Well, there’s no
smoke coming from the chimney. Mother and Father always have a
fire.”

Suddenly the house did not seem inviting at
all. Was this the home they had left all those months ago? Once it
had been a place full of light, but now it was dark, like a shadow
of its former self. Dayn shivered. He thought he had gotten his
sister home, but now he wasn’t so sure. “I’ll go first,” he said.
“You stay here while I take a look.”

“No,” Alicine said. “We go together.”

Dayn frowned, then nodded. There was no sense
in ordering his sister to stay. She wouldn’t do it anyway.

The closer they got, the greater the knot in
Dayn’s stomach became. The front door was ajar, like a mouth
howling the wind whipping the eaves. The windows were opaque with
fog, and the gray mist made the structure’s cedar appear dark and
ominous. Memories of summers sitting on that porch swept through
Dayn’s mind. Happier times. No, he hadn’t forgotten.

Dayn dismounted and glanced up at Alicine.
She no longer looked as if she would leap off and run to the door
with excitement. Her lips were compressed and her brow was furrowed
with worry.

He reached up to lift her from the horse.
“Come on,” he said. “We have to go in sometime.”

Alicine allowed him to help her down, and
together they made their way toward the house. They hesitated at
the doorway, staring at the portal as though it would swallow them
whole. Then they entered, and any thoughts they had of returning to
what they had left evaporated.

Back to ToC

Chapter 3: Darkening Shadows

Dayn and Alicine walked across the
floorboards of the cabin, their footsteps echoing the emptiness of
it. The place felt spiritless, as if the life-force of their family
had been drained out of it. Most of the furniture was missing, the
few remaining pieces either warped by dampness or scattered about
in pieces. Kitchen cabinets were left ajar, dangling on their
hinges, contents raked out. Flour-sodden debris mixed with shards
of glass blanketed the floor. The wind whistled through a
kaleidoscope of broken windowpanes; rain-stained curtains slapped
against their frames.

Dayn could read the anxiety on Alicine’s
face. “I’m sure Mother and Father are all right,” he said
assuringly.

“How do you know?” Alicine asked, her voice
rising. “Where are they? And just look at this place! Mother would
never—”

“They’ve probably gone to stay with
relatives.”

Alicine crunched across the kitchen floor and
opened the pantry closet. A broom sat propped in the corner, along
with a pail and a few cleaning utensils. “You’re right,” she said.
“They probably just left for a while, until the mountain settles
down. They’re coming back…definitely coming back.”

She pulled out the broom and began to sweep,
slowly at first, then more vigorously. Glass mixed with dirt
scraped across the floor. “Mother would have a fit if she saw the
state her kitchen is in. Dayn, why don’t you get those windows
boarded up and—”

“It doesn’t look like they’ve been here in a
long time,” Dayn noted. “And why did they take so much furniture? I
mean, what if they’re not coming back?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course they’re
coming back.”

Dayn looked at the fireplace that spanned the
wall, longing for the heat that should have been radiating from it.
The hearth was empty, the memory of its once cozy embrace
evaporating with the air moaning through the half-open damper. He
recalled the last time he had gazed into that hearth. There had
been flames in it then, and mounds of white-hot logs that looked
like imaginary mountains. That day he had been sitting in his
father’s high-backed chair, dreading the Summer Fires Festival,
wondering if the charred landscape in the fireplace was like that
where the demons lived. And wondering if he could live with the
knowledge that he was one.

“What if they didn’t leave because of the
mountain?” he asked hesitantly. “What if it was because of
something else?”

“Like what?”

Dayn turned evasively. “Nothing…you’re right.
Maybe we should look around some more, before we come to any rash
conclusions.”

Alicine leaned the broom in a corner, then
nervously wiped her palms down her skirt. Her attention shifted
toward their parents’ bedroom door located on the opposite side of
the living area. Taking her cue, Dayn headed in that direction. He
pushed the door open a crack and peeked inside. His nerves were
beginning to take over his common sense, and he didn’t want Alicine
to witness the worst-case scenarios that were playing in his
head.

“The room’s empty,” he said with relief.

Alicine poked her head beneath his arm. “The
wardrobe’s gone. If they were coming back, why didn’t they just
take their clothes?”

“Speaking of clothes, I sure could do with a
change,” Dayn said. “Let’s check our room. Maybe something was left
behind.”

Dayn moved to the bottom of the stairwell and
lifted his eyes toward the darkness at the top. “I’ll go up first,”
he said.

“Why?” Alicine asked.

“I have a funny feeling, that’s all.” But the
feeling really wasn’t so funny; he had never told Alicine about the
threat that Sheireadan, the neighborhood bully, had made against
their family at the Summer Fires Festival. It was a threat made
when Dayn attacked Sheireadan over a remark the boy had made about
Alicine. And it was a threat made when Dayn revealed himself as a
demon to get his point across.

“What
aren’t
you telling me, Dayn?”
Alicine demanded. Her brows arched, a clear indication she expected
an honest answer.

“Nothing, I—”

Alicine planted her feet on the step above
him and thrust her hands to her hips. “We’ve been through too much
for you not to be upfront with me.”