He brushed himself off, then surveyed the alleyway. The stables were located at the far end of it, so he hobbled in that direction. He would get Gitta, the horse in his care, and ride out of there. But he needed some sort of plan. There would be guards posted at the gate, and he would be riding a horse that didn’t belong to him, with a sword he wasn’t supposed to have.
The stables were quiet as Reiv crept into them. His feet barely made a sound as they padded across the floor. The sweet smell of hay mixed with the pungent smell of horse filled his senses. He breathed it in deeply.
“Gitta,” he whispered as he rounded the wall to her stall. “There is my girl.” He opened the half-door and entered the enclosure. The horse whinnied and stomped her foot.
“Shhh, quiet now,” Reiv cajoled, stroking her velvety, black nose. “We are going on a little adventure. Would you like that?” The horse nodded as if to say “yes.” Reiv laughed and hugged her neck. “Of course you would, but you will have to play along now. I might have to do a bit of fibbing.”
Gitta snorted, blowing a wad of warm snot onto his arm. Reiv scowled and eyed her with playful contempt. “Oh, yes, like you have never fibbed about anything. I seem to recall a time when you acted like you had not been fed when in fact you had.” He pulled her ear affectionately.
He bridled the horse, but did not bother with a saddle. He rarely used one; he loved the feel of her muscled girth between his thighs when he rode. Grabbing a handful of mane, he leapt atop her back, then kicked his heels into her ribs. She trotted out of the stall and through the stable doors. Reiv reined the horse to a halt and scanned the street before him. Empty. He would have been grateful except for the fact that he knew it was because everyone was at the temple grounds, there to celebrate the wedding of Whyn and Cinnia.
Thoughts of their wedding night stirred the hostility in Reiv’s blood. The need for escape became all-consuming. He envisioned the horse, he on its back, streaking through the streets, crashing through the gates, carrying him to the fields then on to the forbidden mountains. He dug his heels into the horse’s ribs. “Hyahh!” he screamed.
The animal reared up on its hind legs and danced about for a moment, startled by the harshness of her master’s command, but equally thrilled by the promise of a swift run. She bolted forward, kicking dirt from beneath her hooves, and galloped down the narrow street.
They rounded the last corner full speed, Reiv leaning into the horse and clinging to the black mane that blew in such contrast to the long red one at his own back. They must have been an incredible sight, the two of them racing like a comet toward the gate.
Stupefied guards fell over themselves as they scrambled to swing open the gate for the approaching storm of horse and boy now screaming for them to make way. The men jumped out of their path, one falling onto his back, another with mud splattered across his startled face. The guards could only stare in disbelief as the cyclone of red, brown, and black sped past them.
Reiv whooped and hollered, delighted at how simple it had been to escape the city gates.
“Well, Gitta,” he shouted as though she could understand him over the sound of her thundering hooves, “we did not even have to fib, now did we?”
He felt quite pleased with himself and pushed all doubts from his mind. He was out of the apartment, he was out of the city, and he was free—for now.
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Chapter 9: No Turning Back
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Dayn shook his head and scowled at his once shiny boots. For two days now they had wrapped his feet in agony, and he couldn’t wait to peel them off. He limped to a rocky ledge alongside the river and eased his aching body down, but the cold of the rock quickly reached through his trousers, adding even more discomfort to his misery. He yanked at the boot straps and untied them, then pulled off his soggy boots and socks. His feet were in a terrible state: white and shriveled and covered with angry blisters. He glared at the boots, plotting a scheme for their disposal, but he knew he had no choice but to keep them, so turned his attention to his wounded feet instead.
He picked at a bit of blistered skin, then dabbed the blood that had begun to pool around it. He wiped the stickiness across his trousers. “I’m such an idiot,” he muttered. “Why didn’t I wear the old ones?” He heaved a sigh. “You know why, dolt; in case you saw her. A lot of good it did you. Now here you are, out in the middle of nowhere with injured feet, no coat, and no girl.”
He wiped again at the sore, but his efforts to clean it only succeeded in exposing more raw skin. He twisted his mouth in consideration of the numerous blisters that covered his toes. Perhaps if he soaked them for a while. He scooted down the rock and lowered his feet into the river, gasping at the frigidity of the water.
Dayn eased back and propped his hands behind his head. The sun peeked out from behind a smattering of clouds, bathing his face with warmth. He knew he should continue on, but he could not will his limbs to move. His eyes grew heavy as his mind drifted. Images of home began to float through his consciousness, tempting him to turn back from his folly . . . curled up in a nice warm bed, covered with fluffy blankets . . . or sitting by the fire . . . with clean, dry clothes . . . and a heaping plate of . . . of lamb and potatoes . . . and . . .
“Dayn! Dayn! Where are you? Daaayn!”
Dayn awoke with a start, the rhythm of his heart pulsating in his ears. For a moment he dared not move, but a faint voice echoed in his mind, reminding him of the reason he had awoken in the first place. He sat up and shook his foggy head, then glanced around. There was no one there. It must have been a dream.
He looked toward the bend where the river disappeared behind a cluster of trees. The mountains that peeked over them seemed closer now; surely the cave was not much further. He rose and stretched his body, forcing the stiffness from his muscles, then reached for the boots. Glancing between them and his blistered feet, he regarded them both warily. Perhaps his feet could do with a reprieve, he reasoned. He stuffed the socks into the boots, then tied the long leather straps together and swung them around his neck.
Dayn picked his way among the jutting stones of the shoreline, then turned toward the embankment. Surely the woods would be less painful than the rocks now forcing him into dances of pain. He reached the edge of the trees and stopped. There were vines and undergrowth as far as the eye could see.
“Dayn! Dayn!”
He swiveled toward the voice, his heart both leaping and sinking at the same time. So it had not been a dream after all; it was Alicine, making her way through the woods. A surge of joy coursed through his veins at the thought of rescue, but then he realized his sister would not be alone, so rescue might not be worth it. Their father would surely be with her, there to order him back to the farm.
Hide. Just hide until they leave. There’re plenty of places . . . But it was too late. Alicine spotted him and sprinted toward him, her Summer Maiden gown tearing through brambles as she fought her way through the thicket.
She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest and between the dangling boots. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she cried. “Oh Dayn. I was so afraid we’d lost you.”
But Dayn could only stand there, muted by the enormity of his sister’s sentiment and the realization that his father would soon be rounding the nearest tree to cuff him about the ears and drag him home. He pushed her away and took a step back. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What? I came looking for you, of course.” She looked at him with startled eyes, clearly caught off guard by his cool reception as well as his foolish question.
“Well, I didn’t need finding,” he said. “I’m fine.”
Alicine looked him up and down. “Yes, you certainly look fine.”
But Dayn knew he didn’t. His clothes were damp and smeared with dirt, and his hair was cluttered by bits of leaf and twig; his feet were covered with bleeding blisters, and his fingers and toes were noticeably blue. But he didn’t n
eed her sympathies or her help. “Go home,” he said.
“What?” she said, drawing out the word. “Go home?” Her eyes changed from the redness of happy tears to the scarlet of acute annoyance. “Fine, but you’re coming back with me.”
“Oh no I’m not.” Dayn turned to walk away, but she grabbed him by the back of his tunic and tugged, tearing the hem.
“Now look what you’ve done,” he said, twisting around to inspect the damage to his best shirt.
Alicine’s eyes widened in mortification, then she cupped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.
Dayn fingered the tear in the material. “Well you’re going to be the one to mend it,” he grumbled. But one glance in his sister’s amused direction and he was soon laughing along with her.
“What happened to your feet?” Alicine asked, her humor subsiding.
“Oh, these stupid boots,” Dayn said. “I should’ve worn the other ones.”
“I guess that proves you didn’t plan this adventure.”
Dayn’s face turned serious. “No. I decided at the festival.”
Alicine took him by the hand and pulled gently. “Please come home, Dayn. We can make things right. I know we can.”
Dayn removed his hand from hers. He crossed his arms and turned his eyes to his feet. “I can’t go back.”
“Of course you can. You just walk over to the horse, get yourself up on it, and ride home with me. It’s simple.”
“No. It’s not.”
“Dayn, listen, I know why you left. Sheireadan told you what the fathers have been saying, didn’t he? About not wanting you to court their daughters and all. But they could change their minds. They could. And Eileis could help.”
“It’s more than that. It’s . . .” Dayn paused. How in the world was he going to tell her? He gathered her hands in his. “It’s more than the issue of courting, Alicine. There’s something else. I overheard Father and Eileis, that night a year ago when she stayed at the house. The night I was attacked by Sheireadan on the path. Remember? Well, I heard them talking. Father said I wasn’t his son, that he’d gotten me from a demon-witch in the cave. Do you understand what that means? I’m demon-kind, Alicine. I’m not your real brother.”
“I know that’s what Father and Mother think,” she said, “but—”
Dayn threw her hands from his. “You knew? You knew all this time and said nothing?” He turned and stormed away.
“No! I didn’t know until just a couple of days ago! Please, Dayn, I only just found out!”
Alicine ran alongside him, clutching his arm, but he shrugged her off and kept his eyes averted, focusing them on the barely navigable path instead.
“After you left we went to Eileis,” Alicine continued as she struggled to keep pace with his long, determined strides. “Father told me to stay in the wagon, but I snuck up to the house and listened anyway. I heard them talking about how he took you from a woman. Father said she was a demon, but Eileis didn’t think she was. I don’t think she was either, Dayn. I think she was just a woman like any other, except—”
Dayn spun to face her. “Except she looked like a demon? And she just happened to be in the cave? Right, Alicine, she was a woman just like any other.”
“But Eileis doesn’t think she was a demon. And if you come back, maybe she can convince the others, too.”
“Did she manage to convince Father and Mother?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Well, if she can’t convince them, she sure won’t be able to convince anyone else, now will she? No. There’s no point in me going back with you. It’ll just be more of the same.”
A strange expression crossed Alicine’s face. Dayn cocked his head and eyed her suspiciously. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?” he asked, knowing full well there was.
“Yes,” she said. “Falyn.”
“Falyn?” Dayn felt his empty stomach wrench. “What about her?”
“I talked to her before we left the festival. She’s frantic with worry about you.”
Dayn laughed. “Oh, sure she is. She can’t get poor Dayn off her mind, now can she?” He turned to continue his retreat.
“A matter of fact—”
“Enough of this, Alicine! I’m not going back with you, do you hear? I’m going to the cave, back to where Father found me, or rescued me, or whatever it was he did.” He paused and scanned the woods around them. “Where is he anyway?”
“Home, I guess. I don’t know. I came alone.”
“Alone? You came here alone?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “Are you mad? What were you thinking?”
“I had to find you, to make you understand, to bring you home. Eileis was arguing with Father and Mother, something about them not coming after you. She thinks you are part of some . . .” Alicine chewed her lip. “She thought you just needed to work things out for yourself. That Daghadar would look after you. But Dayn, you didn’t even take your coat, or food, or anything.”
“Did you?” Dayn blurted, suddenly reminded of how long it had been since he’d eaten.
“Did I what?”
“Bring food or anything?”
“Of course, right over there. It’s with the—” Alicine’s face fell.
“Don’t tell me you’ve lost the horse.” Dayn groaned as hope for some food in his belly slipped away.
They ran to the spot where Alicine had left the animal and searched the ground for a sign of its tracks.
“There!” Alicine said. “It went that way!”
“Well, at least it’s headed in the right direction,” Dayn said, pleased to note the horse had gone in the direction of the mountains.
Alicine scowled. “Well, it will soon be going in the other direction.”
“No, it won’t,” Dayn said.
“Yes, it will.”
“No, it won’t.”
And so the argument continued as they picked their way along the primitive path that wound along the river toward the mountains.
The horse had wandered much further than they expected, surprisingly far for such an old animal. But they had no choice but to trudge after it, even if it took them away from the river. The animal did, after all, have the food with it, and Dayn would have followed the creature to the ends of Aredyrah for a bit of sustenance in his rumbling stomach.
Alicine spotted the horse grazing in a nearby clearing and she and Dayn took off running. When they reached it, she snatched hold of the reins, and with the other hand pulled down the bag that contained what was left of the food. “Here,” she said, handing the bag to Dayn.
He grabbed it and thrust in a hand, then pulled out an apple. He bit into it with the passion of a starving man. “Wad-els-iz-enhere?” he asked through a mouthful. He rummaged around in the sack, not caring what else was in there. Anything would do. Even beets, which he despised, would have been welcome at that point.
He gulped down another apple, a chunk of bread, and a bit of cheese before realizing he hadn’t offered his sister anything. Looking at her guiltily, he noticed she was watching him. He paused mid-chew, then looked down at the bag still clutched in one hand and the chunk of cheese in the other. He held the bag out to her. “Sorry, Alicine,” he mumbled.
She smiled and took it. “You’re going to make yourself sick, you know, wolfing your food down like that.”
Dayn glanced toward the horse and his eyes lit up—his coat! He stuffed the last bit of cheese into his mouth and wiped his dirty hands down his even dirtier pants.
“Oh, blessed coat,” he said, wrapping it around himself in grateful relief, “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I’d rather have you wrapped around me right now than Fal—” He froze, horrified by the wickedness of his thoughts, and turned his back to his sister, ashamed and praying she had not realized his words.
“You know, Dayn,” she said, “I never did get a chance to finish telling you about her.”
“Who?” Dayn asked stupidly.
&nbs
p; “You know who. When I said she was worried, I wasn’t lying.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dayn gazed toward a nearby clump of bushes, reminded of other bodily needs. “I’m very relieved to learn you weren’t lying, Alicine, but right now there’s something else I need to relieve.” He managed a feeble laugh, aware his attempt to change the subject was a weak one, then turned and excused himself to the shrubberies.
“You can’t evade the issue forever,” Alicine called after him.
“Oh, yes I can,” he shouted back.
Dayn made his way between the brambles and branches, but glanced back in Alicine’s direction. Though they had always shared a bedroom, matters such as emptying one’s bladder were kept strictly private, and he did not intend to change that custom now. He twisted through a vine that had latched onto his leg, then stopped midway down a sloping bank. He finished his business, worried Alicine might come looking for him, and turned to climb back up the hill. But a sudden moan, deep pitched like wind in a hollow, filled his ears. He paused, scanning his surroundings. He drew a sharp breath. Down the slope, barely visible through the underbrush, yawned the wide black mouth of a cave.
He scrambled up the embankment, through the undergrowth, and back to the clearing, screaming Alicine’s name the whole way back.
“There—the cave—over there—behind the—” he shouted between gulping breaths.
“No,” Alicine whispered.
“Yes! Just behind those trees! I saw it!” Dayn then realized the disappointment on his sister’s face. “Alicine, that’s why I’m here. I have to know what’s in there.”
“Please, let’s go home. What is there to know? The woman is surely no longer there. And if there are demons, why would you want to meet them, Dayn?”
“Because I’m one of them!”
Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light Page 11
