Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn

by Tracy A. Akers

  “I’m not giving myself to a demon—I’m giving it to Dayn. Besides, I’m not just doing it for you. I’m doing it for me.” Falyn turned her eyes to her feet, then back to her brother. “I love him.”

  Sheireadan’s eyes nearly bulged from his skull. “You what?”

  “Don’t you dare judge me,” Falyn snapped.

  “Judge you?” Sheireadan said sarcastically. “Why in the world would I judge you? After all, you’ve only just told me you’re in love with a demon.”

  “And you’re in love with a man!” Falyn retorted. “At least my crime isn’t punishable by death. Yet.”

  Sheireadan’s jaw dropped, but no sound escaped.

  Falyn lifted her chin. “So? Are you going to get your bag or not?”

  Sheireadan held his ground for a determined moment more, then stomped to his room and grabbed his satchel off the bed.

  They walked toward the front door, Falyn leading the way, but then she realized Sheireadan was no longer following. She turned to see him staring at the floorboards.

  “Sheireadan,” she said gently. “This doesn’t mean you’ll never see Caryl again. Once we get settled, we can send for him.”

  Sheireadan shook his head. “You know as well as I do that will never happen.”

  Falyn stepped toward him and set her bag at her feet. She took him by the shoulders and gave him a determined shake. “No matter what happens, you will always have me. You are my brother, and I love you.”

  Sheireadan smiled painfully. “I know, but you can’t give me the kind of love that I need. You’ll have Dayn. Who will I have?”

  Falyn did not know how to respond. She had no way of knowing whether or not the clans would accept her brother for what he was. For that matter, she didn’t know if Dayn would either. Sheireadan had made Dayn’s life a misery for years, ever since her father had caught her and Dayn talking over the fence that ran along their front yard. From that moment on, it had been Sheireadan’s assigned duty to keep Dayn away from her, and he had done his duty well.

  “I can’t make you any promises,” she said at last. “We’re both going into the unknown. But isn’t that better that living with what we do know—that I will be forced to wed Zared and you will never be free of Father’s fist?”

  Sheireadan’s eyes grew distant, as if he were recalling all the times he had been bullied and abused by his father. Lorcan had always been hard on him, but hard had turned to cruel when Sheireadan had reached the age to court. His father had introduced him to many prominent daughters, but after steadfastly rejecting all of them, it soon became clear that Sheireadan’s interests ran in a different direction. And for that, Lorcan hated him.

  “You’re right,” Sheireadan said. “I will always be what I am, no matter how many times Father tries to beat it out of me.”

  Sheireadan picked up Falyn’s satchel and handed it to her. “At least I won’t have to damage my knuckles on Dayn’s face anymore.” His expression turned grim. “I’m no better than Father, am I.”

  “You’re nothing like Father, at least not on the inside,” Falyn said. “Your actions toward Dayn, however, were becoming a rather good imitation of him.”

  Sheireadan smirked. “And what of your imitation, that of the perfect daughter.”

  “You’re right,” Falyn said. “I’ve gotten good at hiding that part of myself I could not allow Father to see.”

  “Which is?”

  “The part that is in love with Dayn.” Falyn smiled, then took Sheireadan by the hand, pulling him toward the door. But in that instant the door burst open, stopping them both in their tracks.

  Lorcan grabbed Sheireadan by the front of his tunic and shoved him against the nearby china cabinet. Dishes toppled behind glass casements, some spinning, others crashing from shelves being knocked from their brackets.

  “What did I tell you about seeing that boy?” Lorcan shouted, his face bulging with fury.

  “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sheireadan stammered.

  Lorcan backhanded him across the face, sending Sheireadan sprawling. “Don’t lie to me!”

  Sheireadan gained his footing and scrambled across the room. “I’m not lying, Father. I swear it!”

  “Don’t you dare run from me, boy,” Lorcan bellowed. He grabbed up the walking cane he kept propped by the door. It was carved from dark wood, with a brass handle molded into the shape of an elk’s head. But it was seldom used for walking.

  Lorcan marched toward his son, chairs and lamps flying as he swept them aside.

  “Father, no!” Falyn screamed. She rushed toward him, grappling for his arm, but he shoved her away.

  “You’ll take what’s coming to you,” Lorcan yelled. “And you’ll take it like the man I raised you to be.”

  Sheireadan inched along the wall, his eyes wide with terror. For a moment he looked more like a child than a young man, but what else could he be when every ounce of self-respect had been beaten out of him.

  “Please, Father. I—I only went to the apothecary, I swear!”

  “Lies!”

  Lorcan drew back the cane, then swept it down. Sheireadan raised his arm to stop the blow, but it did no good. Wood met bone, and Sheireadan fell, slumped against the wall, cradling his elbow.

  Falyn leapt toward him just as Lorcan was raising the cane for another go. She planted herself in front of her brother, positioning her body in a protective stance. “Don’t you dare touch him again!” she threatened through her teeth.

  Lorcan froze, the cane still raised. For a moment his eyes held a look of disbelief, but then they grew dark. “Step aside, daughter, or you’ll be next.”

  Falyn felt her body trembling and prayed her father did not notice. But she could not remain silent. “If you’re going to hit me, Father, then you had best get on with it. I’ll not let you touch him again.”

  Lorcan lowered the cane slowly, but Falyn knew better than to let down her guard. Though her father might not use the cane on her, he had other methods of keeping her in her place.

  Lorcan stared hard at her. “It is the Maker’s will that children respect their parents,” he said firmly.

  Falyn quailed at the speech she knew was coming.

  “The Written Word speaks of it,” Lorcan continued, “in verse after verse. When I took your mother into my bed, I did not take my duty as her husband lightly. And what did I get for my devotion?” He turned his smoldering gaze to Sheireadan. “A son corrupted by the worst of all possible sins.” Then to Falyn. “And a daughter who condones it.”

  He moved toward Falyn and shoved her aside, the strength of his arm knocking her to the floor. With a sudden grab he had Sheireadan by the hair and was yanking him to his feet. Sheireadan grimaced as Lorcan shoved him toward the door, but he made no attempt to escape. His arm was still cradled against his chest, and his spirit was too damaged to run.

  “No, Father!” Falyn cried.

  “By all that is mighty, girl, I will cure this family of its ills!” Lorcan bellowed. “It began with your brother and it will end with him. If the threat of pyres and eternal brimstone are not enough to cleanse his soul, then I will purge it myself!”

  Lorcan shoved open the door, and with Sheireadan’s hair still in his hand dragged him through it. Falyn scrambled up and ran after them, demanding that her father stop. But Lorcan ignored her and continued toward the woods behind the house.

  It did not take long for them to reach the pit. An odorous fog hovered over it, blanketing its long, jagged opening. The crevice was not wide, but it was large enough for a full-sized man to disappear into.

  Lorcan yanked Sheireadan toward the edge, forcing him to look down. “You see this, boy? The heat of this is nothing compared to the flames that will be licking your boots if you don’t mend your ways.” He jerked him closer. “How long were you in here the last time?”

  “A day and a night,” Sheireadan’s barely audible voice said.

  “Obviously not long enough.” Lorca
n shoved Sheireadan in.

  Sheireadan cried out as he plunged into the darkness.

  “No!” Falyn rushed to the edge, gazing down at the shadowy figure of her brother sprawled upon the rocks below. She spun to face her father. “He won’t survive down there!”

  Lorcan looked at her, his expression strangely void of emotion. “He does not come out until he is cleansed.”

  “And if he can’t be cleansed?”

  “Then he dies.” Lorcan turned away. “Come daughter,” he said. “There are families awaiting our aid.”

  But Falyn did not follow her father’s instructions. She gathered her skirts and plowed past him, running as fast as she could toward the house. She knew Lorcan would stroll home, expecting to find her curled up on her bed, crying into her pillow as she usually did. But this time would be different: her bed would be empty, and so would the stall that housed her father’s fastest horse.

  ****

  Dayn paced by the well, nervously eyeing the sky. A fast-moving bank of clouds was obscuring the sun, turning its former brightness to a milky haze of gray. When he’d left home that morning, the sky had been blue and the weather promising. He’d gathered his bow and saddled his horse, casually announcing a sudden desire to go hunting. Much to his surprise, there had been no protests. Two weeks prior, his uncle would have strictly forbidden him to go. Haskel had kept a close eye on Dayn ever since learning of his earlier rendezvous with Falyn.

  Since then, Dayn had worked hard to regain his uncle’s trust. He’d accompanied Haskel to numerous homesteads, helping those families who wished to leave, and preparing defenses for those who wished to stay. Haskel’s homestead, being the closest to Kiradyn, was the first in the line of defense should the Vestry decide to attack, but even though it was at the greatest risk from both the Vestry and the mountain, hundreds of clansmen had stayed on after the Gathering to lend their support.

  A gust of wind ruffled the branches of the trees, sending a shower of leaves spiraling to the ground. Dayn prayed a storm wasn’t brewing, but then a flash of lightning flitted across the sky, followed by a long, deep rumble of thunder. The air became noticeably cooler as the wind whipped through the trees. Dayn pulled his collar around his neck and flicked a shock of hair from his face. If only the rain would wait a while longer, he lamented, at least until he and Falyn were safely on their way. Another rumble sounded, but this time Dayn realized it wasn’t thunder; it was the sound of pounding hooves.

  A horse and rider suddenly tore into the clearing. Dayn’s heart raced—it was Falyn, flying like a tempest toward him, her skirts and long, dark hair billowing at her back. Dayn stepped into the clearing, his hopes riding high. But they dropped like a stone when he saw the distress lining her face.

  Falyn leapt off the horse and ran toward him, her eyes swollen with tears. Dayn gathered her into his arms. “What is it?” he asked, praying she had not come to say goodbye.

  “Please, Dayn,” she sobbed. “You have to help me. Father cast him into the pit and—”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  Falyn wiped the tears from her face. “Father was angry at Sheireadan. He hit him and threw him into the pit.”

  “What do you mean, pit?”

  “A chasm, in the woods near our house.”

  Dayn’s eyes widened. “A chasm?”

  “Yes. It opened up a few months ago and—”

  “But why would your father throw Sheireadan into it?”

  “Father says it will purge Sheireadan’s sins.” Falyn grabbed Dayn’s arms. “Please. You have to help me get him out!”

  Dayn gulped, realizing the repercussions if they attempted rescue and were caught by Lorcan. He had every intention of telling her no, that it was too dangerous, but then the voice in his head reminded him that he couldn’t just leave Sheireadan to die. Falyn would never forgive him, and he would never forgive himself.

  “All right,” he said reluctantly. “But we leave for the valley right after. Agreed?”

  “The valley? I thought we were going to your aunt’s and uncle’s first.”

  Dayn frowned. “They told me I’m not allowed to see you. If I bring you there, they’ll probably take you and Sheireadan back to your father. Are you willing to risk that?”

  Falyn shook her head. “No.”

  “Then we get Sheireadan and head out of Kirador. No turning back. All right?”

  “All right.”

  Thunder exploded overhead, followed by a flash of lightning. Raindrops began to pelt the ground. Dayn grabbed Falyn’s hand in his. “Come on then,” he said. “Let’s go save your brother.”

  Back to ToC

  Chapter 34: Betrayal

  Dayn and Falyn dismounted their horses and tethered them far enough from the chasm so as not to be seen. Dayn grabbed the rope that was draped across the pommel of his saddle. He always carried it when he hunted; today would be no different. With caution he and Falyn worked their way through the woods and toward the rocks, careful not to snap a branch or make any noise that might announce their presence.

  Falyn stopped and put a commanding hand on Dayn’s arm, nodding her head toward the rocky hillside nearby. A billow of steam could be seen rising from the ground, dissipating into the cool, damp air.

  Dayn shivered, realizing how cold he was. He was soaked to the bone from the recent downpour, but at least the storm had moved on toward the east. Falyn was equally wet, her dress plastered against her body, her long hair coiled in wet tendrils down her back. Dayn could not help but run his eyes over her. Even wet as a fish she still looked beautiful.

  He turned his attention toward the chasm. “How deep do you think it is?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “I have a rope hidden in the rocks; I used it the last time to lower him food and water.”

  “You mean he’s been down there before?”

  “Yes. But the rope barely reached the bottom, and the pit looked so much deeper this time.”

  “We can tie it to this,” Dayn said, indicating the rope in his hand. “Hopefully that will give us the length we need.”

  Falyn nodded and guided him toward the rocks, the two of them ducking behind trees and bushes as they worked their way toward their destination. At last they reached a tumble of boulders. Falyn crouched down, then pulled a coil of rope from between them. Dayn squatted and tied the ropes together while Falyn kept watch.

  Dayn eased his gaze over the boulder. The pit was on the other side of the rocks, not far, but far enough that they would have to step into the open to rescue Sheireadan. No one else appeared to be in the area, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t show up.

  He ducked back down, pulling Falyn with him. “All right. When we get there, I’ll lower the rope and you stand behind me. It’ll take both of us to pull him up.”

  They slid from behind the rocks and crept toward the crevice, keeping their eyes and ears attuned. When they reached the pit, they stared into its depths, but could see nothing more than a dark, roiling haze of steam.

  “Are you sure he’s down there?” Dayn asked.

  “Yes. I saw Father push him in and I saw him lying on the bottom.”

  “Was he…” Dayn hesitated. “Was he conscious?”

  “No.” Falyn’s voice faltered. “He fell hard.”

  Dayn felt anger well in his breast. What sort of monster would do such a thing to his own son? It was then that Dayn realized how fortunate he had been to have a father like Gorman, regardless of the man’s lies. But Dayn also realized how fortunate Eyan was to have Haskel. Even though Haskel had hidden Eyan away all these years, at least it had been to protect him from monsters like Lorcan.

  “If Sheireadan is too injured to tie the rope around himself, we’ll have to secure it to something so I can climb down and help him,” Dayn said.

  “What? No, you can’t go down there. It’s too dangerous!”

  “Well, I’m sure not letting you go down there.”

  �
��And just how do you expect me to pull you both out?” Falyn asked.

  Dayn glanced toward the trees. “Listen, we could tie one end of the rope around me and the other to one of the horses. Then the horse could pull us both out.”

  Falyn bit her lip. “All right,” she said.

  “Let’s see if we can see him first,” Dayn said. “I’d hate to climb down only to discover he’s already made it out.” He got down on his knees and leaned over the edge, squinting his eyes to see through the steam. Falyn knelt beside him, her long hair dangling.

  “Come away, Falyn,” an unexpected voice commanded at their backs.

  Dayn and Falyn swiveled their heads, horrified to realize Lorcan was standing but steps away. Behind him stood a group of at least two dozen men. Some were dressed in dark brown robes and caps, members of the Vestry. But others were dressed in everyday attire, burly sorts, there to lend their muscle to whatever dirty work Lorcan had in mind.

  Dayn scrambled to his feet, pulling Falyn up with him. He wrapped a protective arm around her.

  Lorcan eyed Dayn’s hand upon his daughter with distain. “Get your hands off of her,” he ordered.

  Before Dayn could utter a word, Falyn was yanked from his hold. Hands grabbed him from both sides, catching him off guard. He had been so focused on Lorcan, he hadn’t noticed the goons approaching from the side. Dayn struggled to get free of them, but it was no use. The men were strong, and he was outnumbered.

  Lorcan’s lip curled into a snarl. “You see, citizens?” he said. “The demon was about to take my daughter into the fiery depths with him!”

  The men uttered their disgust.

  “That’s not true!” Dayn cried. “I was only trying to rescue Sheireadan from the pit that you threw him into!”

  Lorcan’s eyes widened with feigned surprise. “Surely you do not expect anyone here to believe such a tale,” he said. He turned to address the Vestry. “Do not be fooled by the trickery of his words, gentlemen. A demon wouldn’t know the truth if it reached out and bit him on the hand.”