From Light to Dark

by Irene L. Pynn

  Caer screamed and dashed to the other end of the room. She crouched low with her hands over her face.

  Eref ran toward Caer, gripping the Moonstone tightly in his hand. But before he reached her, another blast came at him. He backed up and dropped to the ground, rolling underneath the stream of fire to get to Caer.

  “Eref!” she cried. “Is Vul safe? I can’t see anything!”

  The room had filled with smoke, and some parts of the wall crawled with fiery embers.

  “I don’t know,” he called out. “Vul! Can you hear me?”

  “My face!” Vul shouted back. “They’ve burned my face!”

  “I’m with her!” the Exile shouted. “We have to get out of here! Caer, come to us!”

  Another flaming shot came directly at Caer this time, and Eref tugged her out of the way. She bumped her head against the wall and collapsed against his body. In the chaos, he forgot his purpose for a split second and thought only of keeping Caer alive.

  They rolled under the fire and hid in the farthest part of the room, where the least smoke had traveled.

  Eref held Caer close to him. Her head lolled slightly to the side, and he gripped her tightly with both hands. “Caer, stay with me.” He shook her gently. “Caer, talk to me. Are you all right?”

  “I think so,” she said, opening her eyes. Then her jaw dropped in horror. “Eref. Oh, no.”

  All at once, the overwhelming calm and joy in his body faded. He looked at his body and saw it becoming solid once again.

  “No,” he said.

  But it was true. Both of his hands held Caer. And nothing else.

  “Look at this!” one of the soldiers called out from behind a mask that dulled his voice. “I’ve found the Moonstone ring!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Waiting to Die

  They’d taken his glasses. Everything was black again, and he was alone. Though he couldn’t see, Eref could imagine what his holding cell was like.

  He’d seen one before. In Light World.

  That was the place where people waited to be stoned to death.

  This was the place where people waited to burn.

  He fell to his knees and clutched the muddy ground beneath him. Leaves and twigs stuck to his hands, and he leaned forward into the mud. What did it matter if his face was covered in grime? His soul couldn’t feel any dirtier.

  Lying on the ground, he cried out and beat his fists into the mud.

  They’d taken her. He hadn’t protected her.

  In the chaos, all he had seen was Caer’s face when the soldiers had yanked her arm and torn her away. She’d called out to him, “Let me go! Eref! Help!”

  But he’d had a soldier on him, too, and flamethrowers were aimed at both their heads.

  So Eref had just watched, his heart breaking, while the soldiers had dragged Caer away.

  What was more, the Moonstone was back in the Governors’ office. At least they couldn’t use it for the life transfer, he told himself. They needed the Exile to do that, but the Exile and Vul had gotten away through another door.

  But the Exile couldn’t have much time left in him, and Vul had been injured by the flames.

  All their efforts had been in vain because Eref hadn’t held on.

  He clawed the ground and willed himself to disappear. If he could have dug his own grave right there, he would have.

  But the murky ground was hard-packed beneath the slime, and he had no chance of tunneling out or even burying himself.

  Dark World and Light World had one clear thing in common: they were both determined to watch him die.

  Surrounded by at least ten soldiers, he’d been transferred from a dungeon in the Shade several miles through the jungle to a smaller cell that smelled like sulfur. It must have been a hidden prison beneath the Pyre.

  Nearby, several guards whispered to each other.

  Thankfully, he couldn’t have much time left before the execution. The act of living put him through too much misery to endure.

  Then he remembered—the execution. If Dark World’s killings were carried out the same way as Light World’s, then an executioner would light the fire.

  That executioner would wear the Moonstone on a chain around his neck.

  Barely noticeable through his pain, a tiny hint of hope emerged. If he could get the executioner to come close…if he could get the ring in his hands…. it would be in danger in the fire…

  But how long could he actually hold it while burning?

  Even with the healing magic, Eref couldn’t possibly survive twenty minutes with his whole body on fire.

  It was useless. He had to accept reality: everyone had counted on him, and he had failed.

  “The spectators are nearly finished with the blindfolding,” a soldier muttered to someone outside. “How much longer until the show?”

  “Give it a few seconds,” another soldier answered. “We’ll pull him up soon.”

  On his knees, Eref bowed his head and thought of Caer. They would have performed the ceremony on her already, with her birthday so close. In his mind he told her how sorry he was. He thanked her for giving him a purpose. He asked her to live a happy life in Dark World.

  “Please don’t forget me,” he whispered, as another tear trickled down his chin.

  “Right. We’re ready,” said the soldier. “Bring him out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Liber

  It was worse than anyone could have imagined.

  Below Eref, angry voices shouted up at him and hurled dry sticks at his naked body.

  “Monster!”

  “Devil!”

  Everything was blackness. He couldn’t tell who stood to the side of him, or who tied his arms and legs to the stake. When he couldn’t see, his terror increased. The nauseating odor of previous burnings, the splinters of the wood, and the sound of the jeering crowd filled his mind.

  That wasn’t all. He might have been able to handle the fear, but the memory of everything he’d done wrong up to this point weighed him down more heavily than the mound of wood on his feet.

  “Tie some here,” a male voice said.

  Hands touched Eref’s thighs. They strapped splintery sticks to each leg.

  “And his arms.”

  The Dark People were paving a path for the fire to crawl up his body.

  Eref tried to take a steady breath and imagined what burning to death would be like.

  A man breathed into his ear. “You scared, Light Person?”

  He took another breath.

  “You should be. This is my eleventh execution. Don’t know how they do things in your world, but ours is so bad we can’t even watch it happen. As soon as the executioner gets here, I’m going to get down and put my blindfold on. Then we’ll listen to you scream.”

  For a moment, Eref wondered whether Caer or Vul would be in the audience. He hoped they wouldn’t watch this.

  “The screams go on for several minutes, too. You’ll feel the pain for a while before you go.” The man beside him slapped Eref hard on the back and laughed. Eref jerked forward, and the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight against the ropes that held him.

  “Done prepping yet, Tassinast? The executioner’s here.”

  “Yeah,” the man at his side said. “Here, watch what happens when you do this.” He whacked Eref again, and Eref jerked forward. The muscles in his arms fought against the tension of the ropes.

  Then something terrible happened.

  “Tassinast. Report immediately to the Shade. You will be reprimanded for mistreating the condemned.”

  If he had been dead already, Eref would still have recognized that voice.

  “I’m sorry, Madam Executioner,” the man said. “It’s just that he’s a Light Person, so—”

  “Go to the Shade.”

  Eref held his mouth shut. Should he call out to her? Should he say something?

  Tassinast stomped away to his left, and the softest hand in Dark World helped him upri
ght again.

  “Everyone else can prepare for the execution,” she said to the other soldiers. “Please climb down and blindfold yourselves. I will join you soon.”

  Eref heard the other people who had guarded and helped tie him walk past until only two people remained on the Pyre.

  Eref and Caer.

  The crowd continued its bellowing, cheering her on and screaming for justice.

  “Caer,” he whispered. They must have put her through the Eighteener Entrance. Was there any chance that she would still be herself?

  “Do not speak. We don’t grant final words.”

  “Caer. It’s me. It’s Eref. You remember me. You have to.”

  But she didn’t respond. Instead, Eref heard her flick a little switch in her hands. A miniature flamethrower? She flicked it again without result.

  He had no time. But he couldn’t say goodbye like this. She wouldn’t have wanted him to.

  “Caer, please. Even if it’s just for a second, please remember me.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say another word, Light Person. I have to concentrate.”

  “You don’t know how to use that weapon because this is your first execution,” Eref said. “But you didn’t always want this job.”

  She didn’t respond. His mind raced. He had to do something. He had to find a way.

  Tiny clicks came from the little flamethrower; Caer still struggled to make it light. Any second now she’d set him ablaze, and it would be over.

  “I love you, Caer.”

  She gasped. “What?”

  “I just wanted to say it,” he said, dropping his head. It was time to let go. “That’s all that matters.”

  The crowd had stopped shouting. Collective “Ooohs” and “Ohs” had taken the place of their angry curses. But they couldn’t have heard his words to Caer. What had happened?

  Suddenly, a rain of something soft and small landed on Eref’s face and shoulders, like a hundred pieces of thin velvet dropping all around him. They slid off and fluttered to the pile of wood at his feet.

  “Liber,” Caer breathed.

  “The flowers?”

  Caer flicked her torch again and again until finally he saw something.

  Fire blazed out of the end of her gun, and Eref found that Caer wore special glasses to allow her to see through the flame. Her tiny pink lips hung open in surprise. The strange light from her weapon allowed him to look at what was happening.

  Thousands of miniscule petals of all colors drifted around her face and his. It was a shower of pastel rainbows, and all around them Dark People peeked out from under their blindfolds to grab the petals. The Liber Flowers stuck to trees, people’s hair, Eref’s own arms. They almost tickled, but the petals had barely any weight at all. Each one felt like a tiny cloud resting on his body.

  The eerie jungle of Dark World had become a soft bed of pink, blue, yellow, white, lavender, and orange, like confetti that had been strewn across every person, every part of the land.

  Eref looked at Caer, the most beautiful creature in any world, now like a queen decorated in the Liber Flowers herself.

  For a second, their eyes met, and he could have sworn she remembered him.

  “These are the flowers you wanted to put in my ring,” he said.

  She thrust the flaming gun to the wood and sealed his fate.

  It was almost cold. Searing pain sizzled through his feet and ankles. He opened his mouth in a scream that must have echoed all the way up to Light World.

  He instinctively tugged his arms in their binds and pulled his legs, but the knots were too tight.

  A ghastly odor rose up to his nostrils and made him gag. That was his own flesh cooking.

  In the light of the flames, he saw everything around him. The people blindfolded below, many of them smiling. The Liber Flowers falling like soft rain. The smoke rising from his own body.

  And there was Caer with the Moonstone around her neck. She should have moved by now. The fire was too dangerous for her. But instead she stood still, a look of utter horror on her face.

  The fire crackled underneath Eref’s feet, and he struggled again to get free, already coughing on the smoke.

  “Eref,” she said.

  “Caer,” he shouted over the pain. “I’m so sorry, Caer.”

  “Eref, no. What did I do?”

  The fire licked his calves. He wondered if he would faint.

  “It’s not your fault,” he moaned. “Get down. Hurry! This isn’t safe!” He couldn’t believe it: her own memory had actually overpowered the implant.

  “I’ve been in a dream until I saw the flowers and—” She hesitated. “And then this.”

  It seemed she was still in a dream. She didn’t seem to understand how serious the situation was. If she didn’t go now, she’d be engulfed in flames herself.

  “Just get down!” He could barely bring himself to speak anymore. The pain was unbearable.

  “No,” she said, taking a step closer.

  “Stop,” he said through another smoky cough. “You have to get down.”

  She moved quickly, placing herself behind him. Her hands reached through the fire for the binds on his wrist. A tiny cry escaped her lips.

  “Caer. Run,” he said, half-conscious. “It’s too late.”

  “You need your hands,” she said, hastily tugging at the knots.

  In a fever of pain and breathlessness, Eref’s hands released to his sides.

  “Stay awake, Eref.” Caer was in front of him again. There was no way to untie his legs. Even if she tried, he wouldn’t be able to move. The fire had destroyed too many of his nerves and muscles. It was over.

  “Give me your hand,” she said, coughing a little. She reached through the fire again and lifted his arm. The fuzz on her body curled against the heat. Her silken hair singed at the ends.

  Then, with a swift motion, Caer yanked the chain off her neck and slid the Moonstone onto Eref’s finger.

  He shook his head. “There isn’t time,” he whispered.

  “The Exile told me in the cave he thought it would go faster if you protected someone else, too,” she said.

  “But you’ll die,” he coughed.

  She nodded.

  Through the heat, Eref squinted his eyes and looked at Caer. Neither of them could survive much longer on the Pyre, but maybe she was right. If he protected them both at the same time, he might reach his goal much faster than twenty minutes.

  But what would happen to Caer? Would she become the Safety, just as the Moonstone and Eref would? There was no way she could survive standing up here.

  Caer reached forward into the flames and held his hand. She gasped as the flames licked her arm once more.

  “Caer, no.” He coughed. A small glow already shone from the ring on his finger.

  “I’m ready,” she said. With that, Caer fell into Eref’s arms and held onto him.

  He held her tight, and she cried out in the blazing fire. Her lips brushed against his cheek.

  Light exploded around them. It penetrated the entire world, and Eref looked up to see Light World, high above, dimming to a shadow.

  He couldn’t feel the fire anymore, though the smell of his skin melting continued to rise with the smoke.

  Caer smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. Their bodies grew transparent, the process much more rapid than it had been in the Governors’ chamber. Their arms were already completely invisible, and pink and blue Liber Flowers fell right through Caer’s torso.

  On the ground, several Dark People called out to each other in confusion. They must have seen the strange light through their blindfolds.

  In the glow, Eref felt more and more confident, more and more powerful. No more pain. No more fear. This wasn’t death; it was a rebirth.

  Caer must have thought the same thing. She laughed out loud as their legs disappeared.

  Dark World seemed to be vanishing as well. The light penetrated every corner and washed out every shadow, a great,
cleansing wave. Nothing looked the same anymore.

  He turned back to Caer, whose eyes shone with happiness.

  All that remained were their faces.

  “Love you,” she said with a smile.

  “Love you, too.”

  They kissed softly. Little by little, their eyes, noses, and lips succumbed to the glowing light.

  And then they were gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Safety

  Miss U. leaned over and patted Fere on the shoulder. Fere squirmed.

  “Nice start at a Liber Flower,” Miss U. said, “but try to make them a little more rounded if you can. Cut it this way.” She pointed with her good hand at the jagged edges of Fere’s yellow construction paper.

  “I don’t get it,” Erac called out from the other side of the classroom, scratching his pale head.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve never seen a Liber Flower before. My mom told me they aren’t real,” the toddler said with a tiny scowl.

  Miss U. grinned. The skin on her face crackled as only one side of her mouth moved. Five or six kids stared at their construction paper. She knew they hated to look at their teacher too long, and not just because her skin was so different.

  Her body was covered in terrible scars.

  “Well, Erac,” Miss U. said, limping to his corner of the room, “Your mother’s right.”

  The seven year-old scrunched up his face and stiffened into his chair as if trying to keep his distance.

  Miss U. half-grinned again. She’d taught classes for children ever since the Safety had been recreated. The youngest students always feared her at first.

  “But if they don’t exist, then why are we cutting out pictures of them?” Erac spoke to his scissors.

  “Because I said so,” Miss U. said, getting a little kick out of his reaction to her. Every student in the room stared at them now, terrified that her condition was something they could catch, and Erac would soon lose the use of his left arm and part of his face. Any minute now, Erac would be covered in scaly burn scars, and his skin would become hairy and pale like Miss U.’s.