Dark Breaks the Dawn

by Sara B. Larson

  Each day also brought an earlier dawn and a later sunset, so that they were running the majority of the time, with only a few hours of rest under the cover of night. By the time they reached the border, the wear of the grueling task she’d set them had increased to the point that the moment she finally halted at the edge of their kingdom, Evelayn’s muscles cramped in painful protest.

  “Hopefully the message reached the priestesses in time,” Tanvir commented, the first time he’d spoken in hours, as he pulled one foot back and stretched with a grimace.

  “The wards are to prevent Draíolon from coming in to Éadrolan. Not to keep them from going out,” Kel reminded them.

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Evelayn finally cut in. “I can get us back in if the wards are still up when we return.”

  Tanvir and Kel both turned to her with eyebrows lifted. She smiled confidently at them though inside she was a mess of fear and uncertainty. The truth was that she didn’t have a clue how to get past the wards. She could only hope the priestesses got the message in time—and that she and her companions made it to the lair and back in time to come through the gap that would only be opened for the brief window she had calculated they would need. And they were already taking longer than she’d anticipated.

  They would have to make up time somehow.

  There was a marked difference between the two kingdoms—making the border easy to recognize. Éadrolan was a riot of color: jeweled flowers and bursts of sunlight, emerald grasses and jade trees. Dorjhalon was just as lush, but it was shadowed, even in summer. The trees grew close, evergreen needles weaving together into a nearly impenetrable wall at times, blocking much of the brightness of the sun. Even the bushes crowded in on one another. There were flowers, but they were muted compared to those in Éadrolan. Palest of pinks and deep, rich purple. Dusky whites that bordered on gray. And Evelayn’s favorite—the wild black roses that grew in clumps throughout the Dorjhalon forests, with the crimson corollas at the center of the petals that looked like pricks of blood on velvet. Her father used to bring her bouquets of them as a child when he would visit Dorjhalon. Back when there had been peace and free travel between the two kingdoms.

  Evelayn stared into the shadows of King Bain’s kingdom and took a deep breath. They didn’t have time to waste on apprehension. Her only option was to press forward. She closed her eyes as she stepped across the border into Dorjhalon, bracing for—she wasn’t sure what. A shock? A wave of debilitating pain?

  But nothing came. When she opened her eyes, she stood on Dorjhalon soil for the first time in her life.

  Kel and Tanvir quickly followed. She turned to them and gestured. They nodded in unspoken agreement, and the trio took off running toward the east. It seemed dangerous to speak now, to risk alerting any Dark Draíolon to their presence.

  They had to travel quickly. And silently.

  The sun had set, throwing the forest into even darker shadow, when Kel finally spoke from behind Evelayn.

  “We should stop. It’ll be too dark to see soon.”

  But she ignored him—and the burn of her muscles—and kept going.

  “Your Majesty,” Kel’s voice was strained. “Please.”

  But Evelayn pressed on. If they ran through the night, they could reach the lair by dawn. They could still negotiate for the silk and possibly get back to the border in time before the priestesses closed the gap.

  Darkness fell faster in Dorjhalon, and it felt all-encompassing. Evelayn almost had to squint, sharpening her vision as much as possible, to keep from getting hit by wayward branches or tripping over roots. She’d heard that Dark Draíolon could see better at night than Light Draíolon could, which she supposed made sense, since it was the power of the darkness they wielded. Just as the brightness of the sun didn’t bother her at all, but irritated the Dark Draíolon’s eyes.

  She felt someone closing in on her from behind and she kicked her heels up, pushing herself even faster. But whoever it was didn’t give up. He grabbed her elbow and yanked them both to an abrupt halt.

  Evelayn whirled to face Tanvir, who still gripped her arm.

  A wave of anger rose, drawing with it a surge of power, making her stone burn hot in her sternum.

  “We have to stop before someone gets hurt.” Tanvir spoke quietly but urgently. “Or worse.” He gestured behind them and Evelayn looked past his sweat-streaked face to see Kel quite a distance away, leaning against a tree.

  Her heart sank. If she’d pushed him too hard—

  She shook off Tanvir’s hand and sprinted back the way she’d come, skidding to a halt beside the general who had come to mean so much to her after her father’s death, and hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder.

  He didn’t react, not so much as a flinch or a glance in her direction. He merely kept his forehead pressed into the arm he had lifted against the bark of the trunk, breathing in and out. In and out. A sound that was much more labored than it should have been.

  “I’m sorry, Kel,” Evelayn whispered.

  He finally turned to look at her, his face flushed. She’d barely ever seen him break a sweat before. “No, my queen. It is I who am sorry. For failing you. For not being up to the task.”

  Evelayn shook her head, a strangling sense of despair choking back a response.

  She felt more than heard Tanvir drawing closer to them.

  “I’ll start setting up camp,” he offered softly.

  They were silent for a long moment, the only sounds that of Tanvir preparing a place to sleep and Kel’s still-harsh breathing. Finally, she managed to say, “You haven’t failed me. It was foolish of me to think I could do this at all, let alone so quickly. I’ve pushed us too hard and we still won’t make it back in time.” She paused and her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I don’t know how to get through the wards. Even if I am somehow successful at bargaining for the silk, we may very well be stuck in Dorjhalon. Rather than helping my people, I may have just served myself on a platter to Bain.”

  At that Kel looked directly at her. “Don’t you dare give up. I followed you here because I could see the determination in your eyes, I could feel your certainty that this would work. True, we aren’t going to make it back to the border in time, but you are the queen. You have access to all the Light Power in Éadrolan—including that which the priestesses wield. You have passed every test thrown at you so far, and I know you will get us through this one, as well.” Kel straightened, pushing away from the tree to stand at his full height—a good three or four inches taller than Evelayn. “I apologize for my moment of weakness. It won’t happen again, Your Majesty. Perhaps if we sleep for just a few hours, we can begin again before the sun rises?”

  Evelayn merely nodded, too overcome to speak. Kel bowed to her and turned to help Tanvir prepare a meager dinner from what was left of the supplies they’d brought.

  They didn’t dare light a fire, so it was dried fruits and hard cheese to help stave off the hunger that gnawed at their bellies and sapped their strength. They ate in silence.

  The distant cry of a hawk sent a shudder down Evelayn’s spine as they finished their small meal. She knew hawks were more plentiful in Dorjhalon, but it was an unfamiliar sound to her. The haunting call set her nerves on edge.

  “You two go to sleep. I’ll keep watch,” Tanvir said quietly.

  “But you need to sleep, too,” Evelayn pointed out.

  “I’ll switch with him,” Kel offered. “That way we can both get some rest.”

  “But you need—”

  “You need your strength the most, Your Majesty. For what lies ahead tomorrow.”

  Evelayn fell silent once more at the reminder of what she had to do in the morning—and who she had to face.

  “I’ll be fine,” Kel added. “I just needed a little rest. We don’t have far to go now.”

  Evelayn finally gave up arguing and lay down on the bedroll she’d already spread out. Besides being gloomier, it was
also colder at night in Dorjhalon than in Éadrolan, even in summer, and she couldn’t help but shiver as the blanket of darkness wiped the last smudge of light from the sky above them.

  “Here,” Tanvir murmured and gently laid his bedroll on top of her, blocking out some of the chill.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, but he didn’t respond.

  Even though she had been the one pressing to keep going, a bone-deep exhaustion washed over her, quickly pulling her down into the oblivion of sleep.

  She dreamt of being caught in a massive web, of spiders crawling all over her skin—in her hair, her ears, even beneath her clothes. She screamed and thrashed but only grew more entangled, trapped in the nearly unbreakable threads of the spider’s silk. When she reached for her power to blast her way free, there was nothing there. She was completely empty. And that’s when she realized her chest was cold, so very, very cold. Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong.

  “She knows the queen is coming.” A deep, unfamiliar voice came from somewhere near the web, a whisper that felt like a shout. “All is prepared.”

  What? What is prepared? Evelayn tried to speak, but no words came out of her mouth.

  “And you guarantee she will succeed.” Another voice, from the other side of the web. This one strangely familiar, but as was often the case in dreams, the name escaped her.

  One of you help me!

  Again the words remained stuck in her throat. And the spiders kept multiplying, covering her body, covering her face.

  “She will succeed,” the first voice promised, but it sounded farther away than before.

  No! Come back! Help me!

  But somehow she knew he was gone. Evelayn redoubled her efforts to escape. And finally—finally—the threads snapped. She fell out of the web, the spiders sluicing off her skin like water, as the wind whipped past her … but she never hit the ground. Instead she just continued to plummet, falling through an endless pit of darkness, the only sound the echo of her screams—

  Evelayn jerked awake to see Tanvir still sitting beside her, staring out into the dark forest, Kel lying on his side, snoring softly.

  Shaking off the lingering terror of the nightmare, Evelayn rolled over beneath the warmth of Tanvir’s bedroll and closed her eyes once more.

  EVELAYN GLANCED BELOW, BUT SHE COULD BARELY SEE Tanvir or Kel a ways down the treacherous, narrow path. They’d followed her along the first half, but after that she’d forced them to let her go alone. She wasn’t sure at what point they could be in danger from Máthair Damhán, and she didn’t dare risk it. However, the farther away they got and the closer she was to reaching the cave of the Ancient’s lair, the more she wished they were still by her side. Her blood pounded a beat of fear at the base of her throat.

  Stop it, she scolded herself, turning back to the rocky, slippery trail that snaked up the albino mountainside. You are a queen. Act like one.

  The lair was partway up the north face of the White Peak, the largest of the Sliabán Mountains. The entire mountain was white—hence its name—and barren of any vegetation other than the Immortal Tree, which lived deep within its bowels. Evelayn had never been to the Tree before, but she felt the well of power beneath her feet. It pulsed through the very ground, flickered in the air all around her. It was sacred ground she trod upon, ground that Máthair Damhán supposedly helped protect.

  The Sliabán Mountains stretched across both Éadrolan and Dorjhalon, creating a point where both kingdoms met—as well as the Undead Forest that constituted the eastern border of the Draíolon kingdoms. The White Peak was near the center of both Éadrolan and Dorjhalon, and it was considered neutral ground, the seat of power for both Light and Dark Draíolon. But the fastest way to reach the Ancient’s lair was through Dorjhalon. Evelayn couldn’t quell the sense of apprehension that coiled in her belly and sent a trickle of sweat slipping down her spine.

  Her steps slowed as she neared the ledge that marked the opening to Máthair Damhán’s cave. She’d heard stories and read accounts of the Ancient—what she looked like and what she did to her prey. But no one had ever been to see Máthair Damhán and lived to tell of it, at least not in Evelayn’s lifetime, or her mother’s before her.

  Evelayn’s hands were slick with sweat when she grabbed the ledge and hoisted herself up onto the large rocky expanse smoothed into a flat sheet by thousands of years of rain and snow. The mouth of the cave gaped before her, a giant, dark maw that threatened to swallow her up and never again let her see the light of day.

  Evelayn clenched her teeth against the terror that threatened to overwhelm her, and took off her knapsack to pull out the offering. She glanced down at Tanvir and Kel one last time and then turned to the cave and walked out of the sunlight into the darkness.

  The temperature immediately dropped at least ten degrees. Evelayn shivered but cautiously continued forward. At first the cave looked and smelled like she expected a normal cave would—craggy stone walls, a musty quality to the air, rich with the scent of dirt and rock. But as she slowly moved forward, the walls grew smoother, almost glistening in the darkness.

  Evelayn decided to risk summoning a small handful of Light. The instant the thought entered her mind, the conduit stone in her breastbone flared hot and the cavern exploded with light, nearly blinding her. She swallowed her scream and pulled back the power as quickly as possible, until she held just enough to see the space directly around herself more clearly. In the brief instant when the entire cave had been illuminated she’d glimpsed walls coated in slime and webbing, entrapping dozens of carcasses and even some skeletons. Not Máthair Damhán’s spider silk, which Evelayn had come to bargain for, but the webs of her kin. The small insects that lived throughout their world. Although, based on the size of some of the carcasses and skeletons trapped in the webs, the spiders who lived here were not small at all.

  Evelayn shuddered but forced herself to continue forward, to the tunnel she’d noticed at the back of the cavern. All around her she sensed the same pulsing power that flowed through the mountain, which she’d detected before; but now it was even stronger. Being this close to the source of her magic obviously strengthened her, based on what had happened with the Light Power moments earlier. She could barely even feel the constant ebb and flow of the draw from her people; the sense of the Immortal Tree being so close was all-consuming. But still, Evelayn could scarcely keep her hands from trembling as she cupped the Light with her left and clutched the offering with her right.

  She’d nearly reached the tunnel when some instinct, born of fear or deep-rooted, visceral knowledge, urged her to stop. The light she wielded flickered, and she wondered if she should douse it altogether. But the thought of standing at the mouth of the tunnel in utter blackness was too terrifying.

  Long moments passed, and Evelayn began to wonder if it had been nothing more than her own silly fears that had urged her to stop before descending into the tunnel. But then her heightened hearing caught the barest hint of sound—of soft legs scraping against stone. Many legs.

  “To what do I owe this singular honor?” A voice came from deep within the tunnel. It sounded female—to a degree. But the words were strangely clipped and accompanied by a faint clicking. “A queen of Éadrolan, come to see me.”

  Evelayn straightened her spine, standing as tall as possible as she faced the black tunnel. There was a peculiar scent wafting from the opening and growing stronger every moment. A scent that spoke of darkness and perseverance and avarice and of enduring years beyond measure. “I mean you no harm.”

  There was a hissing laugh. “Of course not, because harming me would make it rather difficult to obtain what you seek, would it not?”

  The scent was stronger than ever, but still Evelayn couldn’t see anything in the thick, inky darkness of the tunnel.

  “I offer you what no Draíolon has ever offered before in exchange for your revered silk, Máthair Damhán. I beseech you to help me—to help all of Lachalonia.” Evelayn extended her right han
d forward—the one that clutched the Solascás. The crystal vial flickered in the darkness with the glowing contents it held.

  “I have lived since before recollection, before the First King and Queen and will live beyond the last. What need have I for your worthless trinkets?”

  And Máthair Damhán finally appeared, not on the ground heading toward her as Evelayn had assumed, but scuttling toward her on the ceiling. Evelayn smothered a yelp of alarm and involuntarily jumped back a step. The Ancient paused, all six of her eyes trained on the young queen.

  To cover her increasing terror, Evelayn pressed, “The Solascás isn’t worthless. It is one of the vessels that contain the pure essence of Light Power, captured by the First Queen when she claimed her power, and kept for eons in our temple. There are only two left in existence.”

  “And yet, you only thought to offer me one.” Máthair Damhán suddenly dropped from the ceiling, flipping in midair to land on her eight legs.

  Evelayn flinched but held her ground, now standing only ten strides from the Ancient.

  She was grotesquely beautiful. The lower half of her face was almost that of a woman, a slender nose and jaw, full lips the color of ink, with elongated canines that curved into pincers peeking out. Her main eyes were nearly the same as Evelayn’s except larger, and entirely black. But above that her head became completely insectoid, with two other, smaller sets of eyes and thick, coiling ropes of black hair growing out of the ridges on the top of her skull. She had arms and hands, but instead of nails, she had long black talons, and her body was the bulbous torso of a spider, with all eight legs—each one longer than Evelayn—holding the Ancient up so that her head soared above her.

  “What is it that you want, Evelayn, Queen of Éadrolan?”

  Evelayn tried to hide her shock that Máthair Damhán not only knew who she was but also her name. “A skein of your silk.”

  “No, youngling. I’m well aware of why you came here. But what is it that you want?”