“How could he steal the Moonstone?”
“We’re not supposed to talk about it,” one of the voices told the other. They came closer, and someone turned the door handle.
“Yeah, but doesn’t the Moonstone keep our world dark? Doesn’t it create the power of the Eighteener Entrance?” The door swung open, and Balor ducked behind the operating table. He couldn’t hide here.
“So?”
“So what happens if they can’t get it back?” Feet tapped on the tile as they walked closer.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
Balor took another look at the altar. It bothered him on a strange, almost subconscious level, but it provided his only hiding place. Without drawing their attention, he hurried over to the largest statue he could find—a Light Person with a spear through his heart—and hid behind it.
“You’re starting to sound like a teenager yourself, Sunre. What’s with all the questions?”
“It’s just kind of scary to think that the Exile is powerful enough to steal something so important to us.”
“Do you trust the Governors?”
“Of course I do, Rodcot, but—”
“Then leave it up to them. We aren’t supposed to discuss it. And don’t you dare tell anyone on the staff that we had to use a reserve implant for this girl. You hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Those rumors about reserves being weaker implants are children’s lies.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
They were dressed in long, black coats that hung to their ankles. Their fuzzy skin was even whiter than Caer’s, so that, in their black coats, both men blended almost perfectly with the black and white checkered floor and walls.
Balor shivered.
For a moment, the men didn’t speak. They walked to the operating table where Balor had hidden seconds ago and began checking through the tools one by one. Their backs were to Balor.
“Everything is ready, Sunre. Call in the handler.”
Sunre left, and the other man turned to face the altar. He walked toward it.
Balor held his breath.
The Dark Person named Rotcod knelt in front of the sculpture of the Moonstone and bowed his head. He pressed his palms together in front of his chest, his elbows sticking out to the sides.
With low humming sounds coming from his throat, he meditated in front of the Moonstone. Balor recognized this behavior. It was the same ritual they went through every morning at the Light, before classes in the Learning.
There, Light People meditated in front of individual paintings of the Moonstone, and they mumbled the same mantra this Dark Person did now. Balor was so used to it, he almost instinctively sang along.
Clend miar. Clend miar. Noughts tho. Noughts tho. Clend miar. Noughts tho.
The Dark Person fell silent. Then he took a deep breath and stood.
A few seconds later, the other Dark Person came in, followed by a larger man carrying a girl who had to be Vul. Her handler clamped her mouth shut, but she wriggled and kicked like a rabid animal.
Balor peered around the spear in the statue, hoping for a better look. She had creamy skin that looked almost tan in this strange room. Her body was smaller than Caer’s, but her expression was one of pure fury. Oval eyes as black as Balor’s skin seemed to swear she’d tear her handler to pieces if she got the chance.
Balor smiled at her determination. Vul had to be terrified, but she clearly wouldn’t let them see it.
For a moment, Balor wondered how he’d acted during his own Eighteener Entrance. Had he cried? Probably.
“Bring her to the table,” Rodcot said.
Vul’s handler, a wide Dark Person dressed in the same black coat the others wore, waddled over to the operating table, fending off Vul’s kicks the entire way. Once he arrived at the center of the room, he dropped her on the table and let go of her mouth to strap her arms and legs down.
“You dirty coward! Untie me and see if you’re so tough then!” Vul spat in her handler’s eyes and struggled against the straps.
Even with a scowl on her face, she was clearly a pretty girl. Not the same ethereal beauty of Caer, but cute in a spunky way. Judging by the strength of her anger, she was definitely the kind of girl you’d want on your side in a fight.
The men ignored Vul’s shouting. They seemed used to dealing with outbursts on a regular basis.
Already, Balor had begun looking around the room for the best way out. First he needed to cause a distraction that would move the men away from her table. Then he needed to break through the heavy straps that held Vul down and get her out before they were captured.
Would it be possible?
“I hope you get eaten by a Peat Slug on your next lunch break, you evil piece of garbage!”
If Balor did manage to free her, he couldn’t let her attack that handler, or they’d both be caught. She’d have to keep her temper in check, at least. They would have to make a run for the door to the trunk of the Shade.
The door. Balor looked at the wall, but to his horror, he realized he couldn’t see the door anymore. No indentation, no cracks in the wall. It was as if it had never existed.
He adjusted his glasses on his face. It had to be there. Hidden, somehow. Blended in with the pattern. That was their only way out.
“We will begin the Moonstone prayer,” said Rodcot.
Sunre and the handler approached the altar.
“Screw your Moonstone prayer!” Vul shouted. “You think I give a damn about your little rituals? You think I’m going to sit here and be a good girl while you lunatics go over there and have a nice little conversation with the Moonstone about what you’re going to do to me?” She writhed and twisted so hard that the operating table rocked from side to side.
Sunre pulled a vial out of his coat pocket. Something liquid and yellow swirled around inside it.
“What’s that?” Vul craned her neck back and saw Sunre coming her way. “Trumpet Pollen? Wow, what a bunch of big, brave men. Gotta sedate the little girl and strap her down to get the job done. I’ll bet your bosses are proud of you. Let’s call the Governors in here and let them have a look at what it takes to control me!”
Sunre didn’t look fazed. He uncorked the vial and poured the yellow liquid all over Vul’s face. She squeezed her eyes and mouth shut as it slid down her nose, into her ears, and dripped on the table.
“Ready, Sunre?”
“Ready, Rodcot.”
The three men assembled at the altar. Balor hid himself as much as possible behind the statue and listened.
Vul had stopped yelling. Her table didn’t rock anymore. Whatever they had given her had worked quickly.
They began with the Moonstone mantra. Their three voices in unison sounded like a low, rumbling song.
“Clend miar. Clend miar. Noughts tho. Noughts tho. Clend miar. Noughts tho.”
“We are here today to turn this Dark Child into a Dark Adult,” Rodcot said. “Her body has been healed of the injuries of her youth, and she is ready to accept the gift of the Moonstone.”
Sunre bent down to the floor of the altar and grabbed a bowl of water from next to the incense, just inches from the Light Person statue. Balor clenched his fists and stayed absolutely still.
“With this water, we bless the Dark Child,” Rodcot said. All three men walked ceremoniously toward the operating table, and Balor dared to peer around the statue one more time.
There Vul lay, as still as if she were dead. Rodcot sprinkled drops of water on her forehead, her abdomen, and her feet.
Sunre had brought another bowl of incense, and he waved the smoke over her body while Rodcot worked.
Then the handler leaned in and unlatched her straps. He turned Vul onto her stomach and backed up.
Rodcot sprinkled water on the back of her neck, abdomen, and heels. Sunre waved incense over her.
It was amazing to watch. This ceremony that every child in Ligh
t World learned was a glorious, grand event was actually performed by three strange men and took place on an operating table.
Balor knew he’d been through this as well. He didn’t remember getting sedated, but he probably hadn’t fought as hard as Vul. This room brought back vague, horrible feelings of fear, discomfort, and a terrible pain at the base of his skull....
He took a sharp breath. They were about to implant the device in Vul’s neck!
“With this blade, we prepare the Dark Child,” Rodcot said. He picked up the razor and shaved a small section of Vul’s hair from the back of her neck. Little beige hairs floated to the floor below, and the handler immediately swept them up.
Balor’s breath quickened. He had to act soon. But how? He couldn’t overpower three healthy men.
“With this collet, we open the Dark Child.” The soft buzz of a drill in Rodcot’s hands made Balor’s eyes water. He remembered this.
Rodcot pushed the bit into the back of Vul’s head. She didn’t wake.
Balor remembered screaming in pain. The burning at the back of his head. The vibration of the drill in his skull.
He was glad Vul could be asleep.
The buzzing stopped. Balor chanced leaning further out from behind the statue to get a better view. So involved in their work, the men shouldn’t notice him.
Sunre dabbed at her neck with a white cloth that turned red in an instant. Rodcot slid a green leaf around the wound and nodded at Sunre, who put the bloody cloth back in his pocket.
Rodcot turned, and Balor pulled himself back in a flash. Had he seen him?
It appeared he hadn’t. Rodcot walked to the altar without looking at Balor’s statue and picked up a small white bolt from the floor. Balor hadn’t noticed it there before because it had blended in with the color of the room.
Sunre and the handler went to opposite ends of the altar and stood facing the table with their arms folded.
“With this implant, we renew the Dark Child.”
Balor took his chance. He sprang out from behind the statue and sent it crashing to the ground on his way.
“A spy!” Sunre jumped back, his hand on his chest.
“It’s the Light Person!” Rodcot ran toward Vul with the implant while the handler bent his knees and assumed a fighting stance.
Balor reached down to the cracked statue and gave a yank. The spear broke off, and Balor brandished it at the handler.
“Back!” he shouted. “Or you’re dead!”
The handler bounced from foot to foot, clearly trying to gauge Balor’s ability with a weapon.
But Balor didn’t have time for this. Just a few feet away, Rodcot held Vul’s implant in the slender tweezers, just inches above her neck. He positioned it for insertion.
“Gryaah!” Balor lunged at the handler and caught him off guard. The spear lodged itself in the middle of the man’s chest and bobbed there heavily.
Arms open wide, Vul’s handler looked down at the spear. His jaw fell slack.
“Murder!” Sunre yelled from across the room. “Guards! Come! Murder!”
Balor ignored Sunre’s cries and darted over to the operating table. Rodcot had the implant touching Vul’s skin. It would soon be inside, and her mind would be gone.
He took a sideways charge at Vul and tore her off the table, into his arms.
“Stop where you are, Light Person,” Rodcot said. “There is no way out. You will be sent to the Pyre while this child finishes the Eighteener Entrance.”
Perhaps twenty guards stormed into the room. Sunre ran behind them and pointed at Balor.
Balor swung the unconscious Vul over his shoulder and made for the wall.
Where are you, door? Don’t hide from me now.
For a moment, he thought he wouldn’t find the place where wall and door parted, but just when the guards neared, he felt something.
The guards stopped. “They will be killed!” one of them shouted.
“What are you doing, Light Person? That area is forbidden to all beings but the Governors! Entering the trunk will mean instant death!” Rodcot almost laughed.
Balor pushed, and the door swung open. Below him stretched miles of empty space and the long, spiraling staircase he had climbed to get here.
“Why take the child with you? You’d rather kill her than let her become an adult?”
What Rodcot said didn’t matter. These men had obviously been misled into superstitions just like everyone else. Good. Let them hide in their room with their false beliefs.
Vul dangled from his back, with Balor holding tight to her legs. In front of him, below him, was darkness. He didn’t have time to think.
He took a deep breath and jumped.
Chapter Nineteen
Reunion
“Please, Caer. You can’t come.” Eref paced the room of the cave.
“It’s not just Balor we’re saving. It’s Vul. It’s my friend, too. I thought you realized that.”
“Of course I do. But I also realize the amount of danger you’d be in if we got caught.”
“I just want to see her again,” Caer said. Her words exuded confidence, but her body language gave away her true feelings. For the past ten minutes, Caer had wrung her hands and taken deep breaths, seeming to hold back tears. Eref knew she couldn’t allow herself to admit that Vul might not come back.
“Let me come with you just as long as it takes to find Balor and Vul,” she said. “Then I’ll take her back to the cave, and you can keep going without me. I understand about my birthday. We’ll meet back here when you’re done.”
Eref didn’t know how to answer her. How could Balor possibly have managed to rescue Vul? Especially in his condition? Eref didn’t want to think about what had probably happened instead.
But even worse, Caer didn’t realize that, for Eref, there would be no meeting back at the cave.
He shook his head. “The soldiers are already looking for you.”
“And they aren’t looking for you? Eref, you can’t even see out there.”
That was a good point. He looked at the Exile, who had been standing to one side, letting them work things out alone.
“I can give you candles to light your way,” the Exile said, “but they will be easily spotted. Once you’re closer to civilization, you shouldn’t let the fire burn unless you have to.”
“See? You need me,” Caer said.
Eref sighed. Soon he’d go back to being a blind man. Yet another burden on Caer. How could he protect her if they ran into trouble?
The Exile put his bony hand on Eref’s shoulder. “I think you should let her come.”
“But you said—”
“Let her come as far as Balor,” the Exile said. “I expect you’ll find him along the path, one way or another. Then Caer can come back, and you should be able to continue from there on your own.”
Eref frowned. “One way or another” meant with Vul or without. After that, Eref could continue on his own with Balor’s dark-vision glasses. Which Balor would no longer need.
Because he’d be dead.
The knot in his throat made it hard to speak for a moment, so Eref only nodded.
“So it’s settled?” Caer looked at both Eref and the Exile.
Eref coughed and said, “When we meet with Balor, you have to promise to come back here.”
“Fine. I just need to help you travel and I need to bring Vul back to hiding.”
Things had moved along so quickly, Eref hadn’t had time to let it all sink in yet. He was heading off to die. Caer would leave him in the jungle and not know it was for the last time.
But he had to do it. For the memory of Balor. For the soul of Vul.
For Caer.
He gulped down the lump in his throat. This sacrifice would be worth it.
“One of our biggest problems is getting you into the Shade,” the Exile said, bringing Eref back to the moment.
“How am I going to do it?”
“There is supposed to be a hidden entrance
, but I’ve never found it. The Governors require that I go in through the back of the tree. There are always guards waiting at the door.”
“Will I have to fight them?”
“You may,” he said. “But that could be difficult. I’ll have to think about it.”
Eref hesitated. He’d rather this plan were better thought-out, but they were running out of time if they wanted to keep Vul and Caer safe.
“I will go with you both,” the Exile said. “To help Eref reach the Shade.”
“Are you up to it?” Eref looked uncertainly at the feeble old man leaning on his cane.
“It is worth it to help you get there.”
Caer nodded at Eref. He knew she appreciated the Exile coming with them in case another Bog Beetle attacked.
Their trip downhill turned out to be relatively smooth, though. Eref carried a small candle to light his way, while Caer and the Exile walked in front and back of him.
“Let me walk behind you,” the Exile had said.
“Why not in front?”
“I need to see what’s happening in case one of you gets hurt.”
Once, that almost happened. Eref was marveling at the thick, green jungle all around him, noting the brightly colored insects and flowers, when an enormous feathery bird swooped down and caught Caer’s dress in its claws.
The bird flapped its massive wings, apparently trying to take off with Caer.
She waved her arms to beat it away, but the bird remained unfazed. It actually started to lift Caer into the air.
Eref dropped his candle, and an odd distortion of light allowed him to see from the ground up. He grabbed one of the wings with both hands and pulled downward, heaving, trying to control the incredible power of the creature.
“Good, Eref!” called the Exile. “Hold him down so I can get a clear shot!”
Caer’s eyes widened—she couldn’t speak with the neck of her dress choking her. But Eref knew she feared that the Exile’s dagger might miss its target and strike her instead.
“Are you sure you can get it?”
“Just keep it still!” the Exile shouted over the bird’s screeching cries.
From Light to Dark Page 15
