The Path to the Sun (The Fallen Shadows Trilogy)

by Kimberli Bindschatel

  After what seemed an eternity, the first man returned with Angei-Laina. She approached with a gentle smile. “What troubles you this morning, brother?”

  He couldn’t tell her. What would she think of him? She had been the one to tempt him, so that he might master control. No. Only the Guardian could forgive him. “I need to speak with the Guardian. And…” Tears came to his eyes. “I just need to speak to him.”

  “Everything will be all right, my brother,” she soothed, taking his hands in hers. “But the Guardian is not available right now. You can tell me. I’m sure I can help you.”

  “No, I will speak only to him!” He ripped his hands from her grasp, pushed past her, and raced toward the pavilion. He ran around the fountain and up the steps and across the platform toward the room behind. He must be there, Kiran thought. He had to speak to him. Now. He threw open the door.

  In one stunned moment, Kiran took it all in. Before him, the Guardian lay sprawled in his bed, naked, with three of his Angei, their robes tossed on the floor, soft pillows and blankets strewn about, platters of luscious, half-eaten fruits and meats and empty cups of the sour drink on the table, the air heavy with sweet perfume.

  One of the women on the bed glanced up at him with sleepy eyes.

  Kiran felt a rush of desire and instant shame. What kind of place is this? He took a step back, his hands dropping to cover himself.

  “What is the meaning of this?” the Guardian shouted, rising from the bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist. “What are you doing here?”

  Kiran’s mouth dropped open, but he had no words. In a blink of utter clarity, he saw the truth as he had never seen it before, twisted and warped out of form. A depraved man stood before him in an ugly stench of sweat. Bile stirred in Kiran’s stomach and rose to his throat. The man was nothing but a liar, hiding behind a mask of reverent humility.

  Kiran stood taller and looked the man straight in the eyes. It was like looking down a deep, dark well. But something—cold, calculating, threatening to strike—made him draw back, realizing all at once—he was staring into the eyes of a madman. The world shifted, like ice cracking in spring, then shattering beneath him. With those eyes, this man had beguiled and seduced his followers, manipulating them to serve his ego, with no feelings of remorse, no shame, no guilt. It was all a lie.

  The two guards burst into the room, their chests heaving, faces red.

  The Guardian frowned. “It’s about time you got here.” They seized Kiran, one gripping his shoulders while the other wrenched his arms behind his back. “Take him outside,” the Guardian said, reaching for his robe.

  The men whipped Kiran around and shoved him forward, into the pavilion. “Get down,” one grunted, forcing him to his knees.

  The Guardian stood over Kiran, peering down at him, his eyes blazing. “How dare you enter my private rooms!” he thundered. “For what purpose?”

  Kiran bit his lip, trying to get ahold of himself.

  “Speak!”

  The guard tightened his grip. Kiran winced. “I just needed your guidance.”

  “On what matter? What could be so urgent?” The Guardian’s jaw muscles were stretched taut.

  Through clenched teeth Kiran said, “I sought forgiveness.”

  The Guardian rocked back on his heels. His expression changed in an instant, and with a voice, now calm and controlled, he said, “You must learn patience. For only in time does Ani reveal everything.”

  Oh, everything has been revealed! Kiran thought, his gut churning.

  “Your brothers here will show you the way to cleanse your soul.” He motioned for the men to take Kiran away.

  Kiran’s eyes narrowed and he thrust his lower jaw forward. “But I haven’t even told you—”

  “Silence!” the guard shouted, shaking him. “You forget your place.”

  The Guardian leaned in close. “I know what you have done,” he hissed, a flame of warning in his eyes. “You are a lost soul. In darkness you shall atone.”

  Kiran stared back at him, expressionless, the same cold determination in his own eyes. The guards hauled him to his feet. The Guardian stood in the path, blocking his way, looking down on him, making no motion to move. Kiran sidestepped, leaving the path, never taking his eyes from the Guardian as he passed.

  The guards took Kiran over the bridge, back to the island, to a shack hidden in the jungle far from the trail. “Wait here,” the one grunted, shoving him down a dark stair into a cellar. The door slammed. Then the click of the bolt.

  Kiran pounded and kicked at the door. He fell back and hit a solid wall, slick with dampness. The cellar was the size of a closet and smelled of mold. At once, he felt the full weight of the day on his shoulders and it was more than he could carry. His knees buckled and he sank to the muddy floor, letting loose his tears. He curled in a ball and sobbed until every tear was spent and he could cry no more.

  Then he waited, listening for someone, anyone, aching for the silence to end. Kalindria had been right. Why hadn’t he listened to her? There had been days, long unconscious stretches of time, where he had pushed his doubt aside, had wallowed in the comfort of easy answers, had lost himself in the mind-numbing routine of daily life, of blind dedication, living solely for those moments when he could be in the presence of that man, and dreading being ripped away again. Then something would happen, like seeing Cartus’s painted-on smile, or the mindless heads nodding, that nearly got him questioning again. Then there were moments, times when he clearly knew things weren’t right, but immediately dismissed his suspicions. Out of what? Out of fear? Out of naivety? Out of denial? Out of some deep desire to have succeeded in the quest?

  He had been living in denial, grasping on to the Guardian’s words, using them to shield himself from uncertainty the way a child pulls his blanket over his eyes. All the while, the Guardian basked in adoration, putting on a show of piety, his self-delusion fueled by the faith of his followers.

  Why didn’t I see? Kiran slumped to the floor in the darkened silence.

  At last, he thought he heard someone outside the shack. His heart beat faster. A door creaked open and footsteps moved across the floor above. Kiran rapped on the door, beating his fists into the wood. “Let me out!” There was no response.

  Soon, there started a rhythmic pounding on the floor above him and the grunts of a man followed by raw moans of pleasure. Kiran slid to the floor and covered his ears. He tried to block it from his mind, but his body responded, tense and tingling, and all he could think of was emerald-green eyes and the scent of honeysuckle. With every thrust he heard, he envisioned her, in sweet agony, until his mind emptied of all thought and his body ached for release. Then, realization came flowing in. All at once, he understood how he had been manipulated. In the baths. At the banquet. He had been caught up in physical desire, riding on the wanton tides, all orchestrated by the Guardian.

  Kiran shook with anger. He felt violated, invaded, his soul tarnished. He felt like a fool.

  Kiran took a deep breath. He had to get to the others, to tell them. He went to the door and shook it, trying to knock it from the hinges. He pounded out his frustration on the door. But no one heard.

  The day passed into night before the guards returned. They took him through the darkness, back across the bridge, and down a path that ran along the river’s edge. Kiran scanned the woods and the trail. He had no idea where they were taking him. In all the time he had been in the Kingdom of the Kotari, he had only been on the island or at the pavilion. He knew nothing of the surrounding area, nothing of the world outside the confines of his daily routine. How had he let that happen? He clenched his jaw, angry with himself for being so complacent.

  Finally, they came to the opening of a cave. An old man with a toothless grin sat in a rocking chair just inside the entrance. The man pushed himself out of the chair, lit a torch, and handed it with a white cloth to Kiran and gestured for him to go further inside. Kiran hesitated, glancing back toward the cave entrance. The guar
ds stood there, hands on their hips.

  The light of his torch was swallowed by the darkness and he had the sensation the cavern was immense, at least ten times the size of the one he had stayed in with Bria. As he moved toward torches he could see in the distance, black winged creatures darted above his head, emitting high-pitched squeaks. The stale air was heavy with an acrid vapor. His eyes watered and his nostrils burned with each breath. He quickly realized the cloth was to cover his face. He tied it around his neck and adjusted it to cover his nose and mouth.

  Five men were at the back of the cave, their faces hidden behind white neckerchiefs.

  “What are we to do?” he asked.

  One shook his head, glancing toward the old man, a sign to remain silent, and gestured toward a mound of goo on the cave floor. The surface undulated with black beetles. The man handed him a shovel and a canvas bag.

  So this is where the fertilizer comes from, he thought.

  He soon realized he was standing on a massive pile of excrement. When he dug in with the shovel, the beetles skittered in every direction. The clicking of millions of tiny feet filled the cavern with a whirring buzz. They crawled up his pant legs, their little legs digging into his skin.

  There had to be a way to escape. He had to think of a way. He fought the impulse to run from the cave, run as far as his legs would take him. He knew the guards would just haul him back in. No. He would watch every movement, every procedure, learn their habits, their routine, and make a plan.

  At dawn, thousands upon thousands of the winged creatures returned to the cave. Kiran put down his shovel and watched in awe as they entered in a massive rush of fluttering wings.

  It was also the end of the night’s work. The men stowed their shovels and filed out. The guards were waiting. Kiran ripped the cloth from his face, gasping for fresh air. The guards forced the workers to keep their eyes straight ahead on the path back to the island where they were taken to separate quarters. Kiran was locked in the cellar. Alone. Again.

  On the second night, he was taken back to the cave. As the men filed to the back, the man in front of him stumbled and dropped his shovel. Kiran reached for the handle just as the man did and their eyes met.

  It was Roh.

  Chapter 22

  Kiran felt like hugging him he was so relieved, but Roh did not acknowledge him. Certainly he saw me, he thought. He followed Roh to the back of the cave and whispered, “We have to find a way out of here.”

  Roh glanced toward the old man and turned away.

  Kiran grabbed his arm. “Roh, listen to me.”

  “Silence!” yelled the old man.

  Roh yanked his arm from Kiran’s grasp, gave him a look of warning, and went to work with his shovel.

  Kiran stared after him, stunned. What have they done to him? He looked different somehow, more like a man. His arms bulged with muscles. But he had become a follower, like the others. Somehow, Kiran had to get through to him.

  When they filed into the cave the next night, Kiran watched for his opportunity. The moment came. The other men were several steps ahead. He maneuvered so his back was to the old man and Roh couldn’t avoid him. “It’s me. Kiran.”

  Roh grimaced. “I know. Now shut up.”

  Kiran glanced over his shoulder toward the old man. Roh brushed past him. “There are worse punishments than this cave.” Kiran’s eyes grew wide. He glanced toward the cave entrance and the guards he knew were there, then back to Roh. With a quick nod, he turned away. They’d have to be careful. Very careful.

  He kept his head down and shoveled, the blisters that formed on his palms the only proof of the passage of time.

  The guard swung open the cellar door. It was early evening. Too early to go to the cave. Kiran backed into the corner. Had they been found out? The guard grabbed Kiran by the arm. “You’re needed in the kitchen.”

  At the back door to the cookhouse, Kalindria was waiting. She dismissed the guard and Kiran followed her up the trail to the patio. Pel was there.

  Kalindria gestured for Kiran to come closer.

  “You were right,” he burst. “You won’t believe what I—”

  “Shhhh,” Pel hushed, glancing over his shoulder.

  Kiran dropped his voice to a whisper. “I saw. I went to the Guardian to…to talk to him. I saw. It’s all a lie. We have to get out of here.”

  Kalindria nodded. “We’ve been planning for some time. When you arrived with the raft, well, we knew that was our chance. Pel was able to hide it downriver and we’ve been stocking it with food, a little everyday. We were going to leave the night of the wedding, but…”

  Kiran looked to Pel. “But what?”

  “We want you to go with us.”

  “How?”

  Kalindria smiled. “We get off the island by telling the bridge guards we are taking you back to the cave.”

  “All right, but what about the others?”

  Pel shook his head emphatically. “We can’t take anyone else. This is our only chance.”

  Kiran crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving my friends here.”

  Pel huffed and turned to Kalindria.

  “Listen, Kiran,” she said. “It’s not that simple—”

  “Yes, yes it is. I’m not leaving without them. We go together.”

  Kalindria sighed and sat down on the bench. “We need to think this through.”

  Pel shuffled over to her. “It’s too risky. We’ve got to go now.”

  Kalindria looked up at Kiran. “How many?”

  “Roh’s in the cave. Then there’s Bria and Kail and Deke and Jandon. But I don’t even know where they are.”

  “I do,” Pel said. “But I can’t just go get them all. It will raise suspicion.”

  Kalindria stood up. “Get who you can. Bring them here. We’ll figure something out.”

  Pel sighed and turned and headed down the trail.

  “Let’s get a fire going,” Kalindria whispered. “In case someone comes by, we’ll look like we’re working.”

  Kiran nodded. As he made a pile of sticks, he ran through different possible scenarios.

  At last, Pel came up the trail with Deke and Jandon.

  Kiran ran to them. “I’m so glad to see you. We need to—”

  “Shhhh,” Jandon hushed. “You know we are not to speak without cause.”

  “Listen to me. The Guardian is not what you think. We have to get out of here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You have to trust me. I’ve seen the truth. We need to go.”

  Pel faced Deke and Jandon. “This might be our only chance to escape.”

  “Escape?” Jandon scoffed. “If you want to go, just say goodbye and leave the way you came.”

  “Just leave?” Pel said with a snort. “It doesn’t work that way. If you show any sign of defiance, the guards drag you off to work in the cave.” He turned to Kiran. “Tell him.”

  “It’s true. I’ve been there. And Roh.” He turned his hands up to show the blisters.

  “But we can’t just leave,” said Jandon. “We’d be banished to the eternal agony of the tormented souls. We are to stand witness on the Day of Thunder.”

  Kiran looked at his old friend. His eyes were puffy with fatigue, his shoulders slumping with weariness. “Jandon, don’t you see? There is no Day of Thunder. The Guardian made it all up.”

  Jandon stared at Kiran with blank eyes.

  “Listen,” Kiran said, putting his hand on Jandon’s shoulder. “I’m so tired, I can’t think most of the time. After we arrived, I lost all track of time. I feel like I’ve been living in a fog. I think the Guardian made our lives this way purposefully, so we wouldn’t question—”

  “We’re not supposed to question!”

  Deke spoke to Jandon then. “I think they might be right. I’ve, well, I’ve had my doubts.” He looked at Kiran and heaved a breath. “It’s like Roh said. This can’t be the dwelling place like the Script described. This isn’t the edge of the
world.”

  Jandon spun around. “But I thought… Why haven’t you said anything?”

  “I haven’t seen you until now.”

  “But why didn’t you find me? Why are we still here?”

  Deke gave a hint of a shrug and looked away.

  Kalindria was right, Kiran thought. If he hadn’t seen the lies of the Guardian with his own eyes, would he be ready to escape? The Kotari were like family, family he never had. And the time in the baths, with Angei-Laina and the other women. Blood rushed to his cheeks. “Have you been to the pools with Angei-Laina?”

  A revealing smile spread across Jandon’s face.

  Deke responded, his face red. “The Guardian has cast a spell. That’s the only explanation.”

  Kiran thought of Bria and cringed with guilt. Maybe Deke was right. Something had taken his mind. The power of his longing had been so intense. It all started when he took the drink. He looked at Kalindria and drew in a sharp breath. He exhaled. Somehow he knew it wasn’t her. But why else would he commit such a sin with Bria? He bit his lip. “Deke’s right. There must be some kind of spell.”

  Jandon glared at Kiran. “You always think someone has cast a spell. The witch, now the Guardian.”

  Kiran’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You swore you’d never mention the witch!”

  Kalindria stepped forward. “The Guardian is a master of deception. All he needs are words.”

  Pel piped up. “Listen. We don’t have much time.” He pointed to Deke. “You mentioned a dwelling place. Is that what you sought? No doubt he told you this was it, right? I was looking for a healing fountain,” he gestured toward his crooked leg, “for this. He told me it was here, but it was only for the worthy, that I needed to earn entrance by faith. That was over a year ago. Trust me. It’s just his way of drawing you in. He tells you what you want to hear. We feed his ego while we go hungry. Well, no more. I’m leaving.”

  Deke said, “We are with you. All of us. So what’s your plan?”

  “We go by raft, same way you got here.”

  “Raft? It took hours to build that raft. I don’t know how we could make another one with the kind of trees there are here. And in secret.”