From Light to Dark (6 page)

“What’s happening to me?”

His body shuddered under the effort to stay upright. The light grew stronger. It blazed all around him. Light from Light World. Light from home.

The Dark World house faded from his eyes.

“
Come on, Balor! I think I’ve found some of shade!” Eref waved Balor over to where he squatted in the sand, his small sneakers coated with red clay and dirt.

“No way. Where?”

“Right over here! Climb down a few feet. It’s just under this stone.”

Balor peered over the rocky ledge. There it was. About the size of a fingernail, hidden under an overhanging rock, there was a dark space where the light didn’t shine. “Woah, a real shade! Have you touched it? Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Of course it is. Come on. Give me your hand.” Eref reached up.

He drew back. “I don’t know, Eref. In the Learning they say—”

“Who cares what they say? It’s really awesome. Come on. Touch the shadow before the Governors send someone to shine it out.”

“What does it feel like?”

Eref smiled. It was the reassuring look that one friend can give another to instill confidence like magic. “Here, you tell me.”

Sucking up all his courage, Balor stepped down and slid his hand under the rock, into the darkness of the shadow. “It’s so cold.”

“I know. Isn’t it great?” Eref beamed.

“I’ve never seen shade this close before.”

“Balor, when we grow up, we won’t be like everyone else. We’ll find a shady place like this and we’ll build a house in it. We’ll be roommates!
”

Light and darkness flashed in front of Balor’s eyes, and his headache returned at full power. He gripped the counter top, his knees buckling, the room spinning.

“Am I dying?”

No one answered him. The Dark World house was empty.

“Eref!”

“
Eref, we’d be arrested for that. They’d take us to the End.”

“Not if they can’t find us. We’ll live somewhere far away from the Center.”

Balor couldn’t tell whether Eref was kidding again. Was this another one of his jokes? He wanted to believe… “Do you think we can?”

“There has to be a way.”

“How?” Balor looked at the shade. It was almost comforting, hidden there in the light. “Like what Rinelest said about that place?”

Eref shook his head. “You mean the Safety? Rinelest was probably just crazy. But we’ll find somewhere. Just you wait. Now let’s get back before someone finds our magic shadow.”

“All right,” Balor said. And then a horrible thought occurred to him. “Hey, isn’t today Dewcres’s birthday?”

Eref looked up, his face suddenly as grave as Balor’s thoughts. “It’s today?”

“Yeah. He told us last week.”

A faraway expression clouded Eref’s face, as if a shadow had found its way to his eyes. “He’s so much older than we are.”

“I know.”

“He’ll be eighteen…”

“I know.” Balor almost didn’t want to ask the next part. What if Eref said something he didn’t want to hear? “Do… do you think he’ll still play with us?”

A second passed when Eref said nothing. But then, as if the shadows had been removed from his eyes, Eref brightened up and smiled again. “Dewcres? Nothing could change him. Stop looking so worried, Balor. Can you really imagine Dewcres like the other grownups?”

“No.”

“Exactly. He’ll be back here any minute, and we’ll get to hear all about the stupid Eighteener Entrance thing.”

The sound of feet crunching the sand echoed nearby.

“Here he comes now, Eref. Over the hill.”

“Come on! Let’s go see him.
”

“This…isn’t…real…,” Balor cried. These were just memories, creeping into his head, poisoning him, blocking his sight and his sanity.

He couldn’t hold himself up any longer. Strength dropped from his body like weights falling to the floor, and he felt light. Dizzy. Empty. The brightness took complete control. A blinding pain in his head forced him to close his eyes, and he collapsed to the floor.

Eref and Balor ran down the hill to meet Dewcres. The three of them had been friends ever since Balor could remember. Though he was eight years older, Dewcres had always played with them as if they were the same age.

“Dewcres!” Balor bounded down to meet his friend. Eref had renewed his confidence, once again. Everything would be fine. Dewcres would be fine.

Today Dewcres had been to the Eighteener Entrance, a ceremony that the older kids feared and the people Balor’s age only wondered about.

The kids called it a “brainwashing ceremony.” They said it could take anyone, even the nicest kid in Light World, and make him hard, prejudiced, and evil. No one knew how it worked, but it never failed, the kids said.

Nothing could prevent the Eighteener Entrance. The Governors sent for you at your house when the clock struck midnight on your eighteenth birthday. If you weren’t there, they drew up a warrant for your arrest. The ceremony was closed, and it took most of the day. By midafternoon on the person’s eighteenth birthday, he was a different person.

But not Dewcres. Eref was right. Dewcres would tell them all about the secret ceremony. Balor and Eref would learn the forbidden facts of the Eighteener Entrance that no other kid knew.

Then they’d show Dewcres the special shade they’d found under the stone.

“Dewcres!” Balor had reached the bottom of the hill, but Eref grabbed him around the waist.

“Wait, Balor.”

“What? Let’s go talk to Dewcres.”

“I don’t think we should.”

“Why not?”

But then Balor saw him. Their old friend, standing there, still as a statue in the sun. His eyes looked different. His clear pupils no longer gave off a twinkle. He just looked at them with a glazed, angry stare. Didn’t Dewcres recognize them?

“Dewcres.” Balor struggled free of Eref. “Happy birthday. How’d the ceremony go?” He walked up to his friend, confused by the unfamiliar look in his eye.

“Shouldn’t you children be at the Learning?”

This had to be a joke. Dewcres was just playing with them.

“Shut up. You know we’re on break this afternoon. Aren’t you going to tell us how it went?”

“If you aren’t at the Learning, then you should go to the Light to worship. That is what children are supposed to do.”

Definitely a joke. Balor laughed and looked at Eref for support. Eref stood, straight-faced.

But Balor wasn’t falling for it. “We never go there unless it’s a field trip at the Learning, Dewcres. Nobody goes there for fun. Come on. Let’s race!”

Dewcres didn’t dash in front of Balor to get a head start. He didn’t even move. It was creepy, how completely still his arms and legs remained. “Children should not have fun. Get to the Light before I report you to the police.”

“Come on, Dewcres,” Balor said, but Eref grabbed his hand.

“Let’s go, Balor. We’ve got to go to the Light. Happy birthday, Dewcres.”

They didn’t go to the Light. Eref tugged Balor along until they found their stone that cast a shade, half a mile away, hidden from Dewcres’ view. Balor fell down on his stomach and cried like an infant.

Eref didn’t speak while Balor sobbed into the sand. He just picked up the stone and played with the shadow in his palm, running his fingers through the darkness. Balor looked up and watched Eref through his tears.

“What are you thinking?”

“I never believed it before,” Eref said.

“Believed what?”

“The Eighteener Entrance. Dewcres’s the first person I’ve really known who went to it. I mean, the first person I’ve really cared about.”

Balor’s throat constricted. He coughed and wiped his eyes. “Eref,” he said in a whimper.

“What?” Eref didn’t look at Balor. He didn’t give him a reassuring smile. He just stared at the shade on his hand.

“I’m older than you.”

“Just by two months.”

“Someday I’m going to turn eighteen.”

“So what?”

Tears poured out of Balor’s eyes again. He couldn’t help it. “Eref, I’ll go away and I won’t know who you are anymore! What if I come back and try to turn you in to the police for playing? What if I don’t recognize you at all? I won’t know anyone. And Ellb. I won’t know her, either. I’ll be dead, just like Dewcres.”

Eref looked up. He put the stone back down and hid the shade. “Balor,” he said, his voice earnest. “Stop crying.”

“I can’t. Eref, I’m going to die. I’m going to try to hurt you.”

“Stop crying. I’m about to make you a promise.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Balor wept, and Eref grabbed his shoulders.

“This is a solemn promise. A best friend promise. You have to stop crying so I can swear.”

Balor held his breath for several seconds until the tears stopped. He wiped his eyes and bit his lip.

“A best friend promise is forever, you understand? We both have to concentrate really hard so that it’s official. Are you ready?”

“I guess….”

Eref picked up the stone again and looked down at the shade. “Give me your hand.”

Balor reached out, still shaking, and let Eref join hands with him in the tiny shadow.

Eref squeezed Balor’s hand tight and said, “By the magic of this sacred shade, I swear I will never let the Governors take you to the Eighteener Entrance.
”

The Pyre

Eref, Caer, and Vul approached the Pyre, and a familiar stench of burned flesh met Eref’s nostrils. Thinking back on it, he realized he hadn’t paid much attention to the negative things in Dark World when he had first landed. As far as he had known, it was a magical sanctuary of chirping birds and soft leaves. The smell of the Pyre had registered only in the back of his mind.

But now Eref concentrated on it. The closer they got, the more prominent the terrible odor became. He imagined Dark People standing on the Pyre, their arms and legs bound to planks of wood, fire scorching their feet.

Was it worse than stoning? Eref remembered the hundreds of stones, all sizes, crashing into him, piling on top of his body, cracking his bones.

He shuddered.

“Are you all right?” Caer touched his arm, guiding him onward in his blindness.

“Yes. Just thinking.”

“About the burnings?”

“And our stonings.”

“It’s awful,” Vul said. She walked on Eref’s other side.

“Have you ever seen a burning?”

“Heard one. We can’t watch because the light’s too bright. But we all had to go once on a field trip for school. The Governors can watch. They bring the Moonstone to help them, but we have to wear blindfolds.”

“Our world is like that, too,” Eref said. “Our Governors have a Moonstone that blesses the executioner. I was twelve when I first saw a stoning.”

He wondered at the similarities between their worlds. Could it possibly be mere coincidence?

Vul pushed what felt like a low-hanging branch out of the way. It brushed Eref’s shoulder, and its leaves crackled as it moved. “Did watching it give you nightmares?”

“No,” Eref said. “But I didn’t sleep for about four days. After that, I guess I never let myself think about it again.”

“Yeah,” Vul said. “It was months before I could get the screams out of my head. From then on, I always went with the kids to play here, even though we’re not allowed. It was sort of like a protest. We turned it into a playground so we wouldn’t have to be afraid of the screams.”

“Quiet,” Caer said. She pulled Eref down to the ground with her. “The guards are over there.”

“We’ll have to get a little closer,” Vul whispered. “I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

“What’s that they’re holding?”

“Flamethrowers. I told you.”

“They’re huge,” Caer breathed.

“Yeah. Lots of fire in those things.”

“How many guards are there?” Eref hated to have to ask. It had already made him self-conscious to have the others lead him through the jungle.

“I can’t see for sure, but it looks like about fifty all around the Pyre,” Vul said.

“This is worse than I thought. Maybe we should go.” Crouched down next to Eref, Caer rocked back and forth on her feet. She brushed against him, and he sensed her nervous movements.

“Go where? Your apartment? With the other Light Person? Come on,” Vul said. “We don’t have a choice now, so just calm down. Let’s move closer.”

Eref had been wondering who the other Light Person could be. The Executioner? One of the Governors? He’d never seen them in person before.

He, Caer, and Vul crawled through the marshy land toward the stench of the Pyre. Soon, voices became audible.

“Stop here,” Vul said. “Pull that Life Tree leaf down over us.”

Caer stood quickly and, after a soft rustling above their heads, covered them with a cool, moist leaf that felt roughly the size of three adult Light People.

“Now listen,” Vul instructed.

Two men talked in the distance. One sounded both young and nervous. The other spoke in a gruff monotone that sounded much older.

The younger voice asked, “Are they that dangerous?”

“We don’t know yet. But it’s always best to expect the worst.”

“What’s the worst?”

“Death. Torture. Hostage situations,” the older man said as if it were a normal thing.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m always serious.”