Read Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn Online
Authors: Tracy A. Akers
Tags: #teen, #sword sorcery, #young adult, #epic, #slavery, #labeling, #superstition, #coming of age, #fantasy, #royalty, #romance, #quest, #adventure, #social conflict, #mysticism, #prejudice, #prophecy, #mythology
He had left home pre-dawn to search for Dayn.
No one in the household had realized Dayn was missing until well
past midnight, something even Eyan felt guilty for. Since beginning
his search, he had visited every location the two of them had ever
hunted together, but there was still no sign of him.
As Eyan crouched in the shrubbery, he held
his bow and arrow ready. Though he had not left home with the
intention of hunting game, there was no sense in letting an
opportunity pass. Moments before, he had spotted what appeared to
be a fox near the stream, and though a fox would not make good
eating, it would certainly provide a fine pelt.
Eyan crept cautiously toward the flash of red
he had spotted on the opposite bank of the stream. As he drew
closer, he realized the creature, though still barely visible, was
much larger than a fox. He also realized there was more brown to
its coat than red. A buck perhaps? Eyan's mouth watered. He had not
come across one of those in months. Now that would be a catch!
He notched the arrow and eased through the
branches. As the leaves parted before him, he took aim, prepared to
fire the instant the animal was clearly in his sights.
Nearly
there
, he whispered to himself.
Steady now
.
He took a step closer, keeping his eyes
trained on the far bank of the stream. With arrow notched, he
pushed aside the last branch and prepared to shoot, but in that
instant he realized the animal was no buck. It was a horse, and
next to it was—
A creature that looked barely human rose to
face him, its glowing eyes turned in Eyan’s direction. A beam of
sunlight broke through the trees, igniting its hair into fiery
tendrils of red.
Eyan took a startled step back. It could be
only one thing—demon!
The beast moved toward him, its clawed hand
extended. “Wait,” it growled.
But Eyan did not wait. The moment the
creature spoke, Eyan felt the arrow leave his bow and sail through
the air. It hit its mark and the demon tumbled, and Eyan,
horrified, turned and crashed through the woods in the opposite
direction.
****
Eyan slammed open the door and tore into the
house. “Demon!” he screamed. “There—there’s a demon in the woods!”
Vania and Morna leapt up from their places at the table. Beside
them Falyn rose, gasping at the sight of the young man who had just
exploded into the room.
Eyan gawked in Falyn’s direction. “Wha—what’s
she—”
Vania rushed toward him. “What? A
demon
? Where!”
Eyan swung his attention from Falyn to his
mother. He gulped a breath into his rasping lungs. “In—in the
woods, near the stream. I shot it.”
Vania did a double-take. “You
what
?”
Eyan looked frantically around the room.
“Where’s Father; is he back? It—it might not be dead!”
Vania hurried to retrieve her cloak. “Your
father’s not home,” she said, fastening the clasp beneath her chin.
She grabbed up an ax that was kept by the door. “Take me to it,”
she commanded.
“Bu—but mother,” Eyan stammered. “Ye
can’t!”
“Of course I can. Now go.” Vania stepped
through the exit, ax in hand, then paused to address Morna and
Falyn. “You two stay here,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t
worry. We won’t be long.”
“Vania, please,” Morna said. “It’s too
dangerous.”
“We’ll be fine,” Vania insisted. “Ye want to
be here when Dayn gets back, don’t ye?”
Morna blinked. “Yes, when Dayn gets back,”
she said. But her words sounded as if they had been spoken in a
trance.
Falyn moved to Morna’s side. “I’ll look after
her,” she said. “Go. We’ll be fine.”
Eyan looked at Morna and Falyn with
confusion, something was definitely going on, but before he could
ask a single question, his mother was hustling him off the porch
and toward the woods.
It did not take long for them to reach the
area where Eyan had seen the demon. As they approached, they slowed
their pace, Vania with ax at the ready, Eyan with arrow notched.
Eyan nodded toward the shore. “There,” he whispered. Vania gripped
the ax more tightly, then slowly stepped in that direction.
Upon the opposite shoreline, a brown horse
with a black mane stood, staring at the two of them as if daring
them to come closer. At its feet lay a bundle of what appeared to
be leathers, but from where Eyan and Vania stood, it was hard to
tell exactly what it was. One of Eyan’s arrows, however, was
clearly imbedded in it.
Vania narrowed her eyes. “Are ye sure it was
a demon?” she asked suspiciously. “I never heard of a demon ridin’
a horse before, and a saddled one at that.”
Eyan felt doubt rumble in his belly. Had he
been too hasty?
“But—but its hair was on
fire
,
Mother,” he insisted. “And its eyes—”
“Well, we won’t find out standin’ here, now
will we?” Vania waded into the stream, and with Eyan at her side,
picked her way over the rocks and rushing waters. Her long skirts
swirled around her ankles, then billowed on the surface as the
water rose to her calves. Eyan stayed close as they slogged to the
opposite shore.
The horse was but feet from them now,
standing protectively between them and the demon on the ground. The
horse snorted and stomped a hoof.
“There there, girl,” Vania said gently.
“We’re only here t’ help.”
The horse eyed her warily, keeping itself
between the strangers and its injured master. Vania laid the ax
upon the ground, then held up her hands. “Ye see, girl? No harm.”
She reached out, then stroked the horse’s velvety nose. The horse
calmed, but its eyes remained on Eyan.
Eyan stepped toward the victim that was lying
on the other side of the horse, but he kept his distance, deciding
to stand at the demon’s feet so as not to be ensorcelled by its
eyes. Vania, on the other hand, seemed to have no fear of the
thing. She rounded the horse and moved toward the demon’s head,
then knelt down beside it.
“Not so close,” Eyan warned.
“Shush!” Vania said. She leaned in closer to
the demon, examining it, then grunted. “On fire, ye say?” She
brushed the long red hair away from the demon’s face. “Looks like a
boy with red hair to me.”
Eyan gaped at the unconscious stranger. “I
swear, Mother. He looked like a demon.”
Vania clucked her disapproval as she examined
the arrow protruding from the boy’s cape. She breathed a sigh.
“Just grazed his shoulder,” she said with relief. She lifted the
edge of her skirt, still wet from being dragged through the stream,
and dabbed the wound. The laceration was bleeding, but it wasn’t
deep, definitely not life-threatening.
The boy moaned and raised a hand to his
shoulder.
Eyan jumped at the sight of the scarred hand
that Vania was now swatting away from the wound. As Eyan stared at
the mottled fingers, he realized the hand wasn’t a claw as he had
first imagined. It had obviously been burned.
Recognition smacked him in the face. “Ye
don’t suppose this is—”
“Reiv,” Vania said.
The strange boy’s eyes fluttered open. They
were violet—just like Dayn and Alicine had described—just like the
image of the boy in the cave that—
The boy blinked up at them, then at the arrow
embedded in the ground next to him. “Gods, are you trying to kill
me?” he groused. He struggled to rise, but Vania pressed him back
down.
“I’m sorry,” Eyan said. “I thought ye were a
demon.”
The boy glared. “What is with you people?” he
muttered.
“Not to worry, Reiv,” Vania said. “We’ll have
ye mended in no time.”
The boy’s face took on a look of surprise.
“You know me?”
“Only of ye. Dayn and Alicine—”
“Dayn and Alicine?” Reiv scrambled to his
feet. Eyan grabbed his elbow to steady him.
“Lands, child,” Vania said, taking Reiv by
the other arm. “Ye need to stay put.”
But Reiv ignored her. “They are here?” he
asked anxiously. “Tell me!”
“Aye,” Eyan said, feeling his own excitement
rise. “They’re—”
“Relatives,” Vania added hastily. “You’ll see
‘em soon enough. Let’s get ye to the house and tend that shoulder
of yours first.” She guided him to the horse. “Eyan, help him up,
will ye?”
“It is only a scratch, and I am perfectly
capable of mounting a horse,” Reiv said. “It is not like your boy
there has much skill with a bow.”
Eyan’s spirits fell. For some reason he
wanted Reiv to like him. And his skills as a hunter were about the
only thing he had going for him. “I’m usually much more accurate,”
he said defensively.
“Is that so,” Reiv replied. “Well thank the
gods this time you were not.”
Vania shook her head. “Alicine said ye had a
pride about ye.”
“She should know,” he said with a laugh.
“Well, pride or no pride, I’d rather ye let
Eyan help ye,” Vania said. “Ye hit your head when ye fell; might be
dizzy for a spell.”
Reiv acquiesced, too muddled to argue the
point, and moved to mount the horse. “Oh, my things,” he said,
turning toward the hillside at their backs. “I left them up there,
beneath an overhang. The storm—”
“I’ll get ‘em,” Eyan said.
Eyan bent over and cupped his hands for Reiv
to step into, then hoisted him up and into the saddle. Once Reiv
was settled, Eyan darted up the hillside to gather the rest of the
belongings. But when he arrived, he realized there wasn’t much to
retrieve. There was one ratty bedroll and a leather bag with a few
oily rags, but very little food. As for tools and weapons, there
was a dirk tucked beneath the blanket and that was it.
He must
be starvin'
, he thought. He turned his gaze down the hillside
toward the proud young man sitting on the horse.
Someday I’ll
prove to ye my aim’s not so bad,
Eyan decided.
Ye’ll
see.
D
ayn lay curled up
in the darkness, shivering. His clothes were still damp from the
drenching they had received earlier, and he had been given neither
blanket nor cloak to help keep him warm. He could not imagine how
long he had been lying there; there were no windows to help him
judge the time by sunlight or moonlight, or for that matter, any
other light. Still, it seemed as though he had been there a very
long time.
The door creaked open, sending a stab of
light to his eyes. He raised a hand to shield them, then squinted
up at the light. He quickly realized a lantern was entering the
room, and behind it was the dark shape of Lorcan.
Dayn scrambled up from the floor. He clenched
his fists at his side. “You can’t keep me here,” he said. “I’ve
done nothing wrong.”
“Oh, you will not be here for long,” Lorcan
said smugly. “As for the other, a verdict has already been
reached.”
“What do you mean, verdict?”
“The one determined at your trial, of
course.”
Dayn’s jaw dropped. “
Trial
? Should I
not have been allowed to speak in my own defense?”
Lorcan set the lantern on a nearby barrel,
then pulled up a crate. “Sit, Dayn,” he said. “Let us discuss your
sentence.”
Dayn felt his legs begin to shake. “Sentence?
What sentence?”
“Sit, if you wish to hear it,” Lorcan
replied. “If you’re lucky, I might even make you an offer.”
Dayn sank down onto the crate. He knew he was
about to hear some terrible news, and wished he had the courage to
hear it standing on his feet.
“You are to be executed at high sun,” Lorcan
said matter-of-factly. He watched Dayn closely, hoping to relish a
response, but Dayn found himself unable to give one.
“Do you wish to know the method?” Lorcan
continued.
“I assume it will be at the stake,” Dayn
said. For some reason he felt no panic; his mind had moved him into
a temporary state of denial.
“I regret your death is to be so painful,”
Lorcan said with feigned sympathy, “but you do realize there is no
other way. Evil can only be purged by fire.”
“So I understand,” Dayn replied. “Will you be
joining me there?”
Lorcan’s eyes flashed with hatred, then he
calmed, though with obvious effort. “I mentioned earlier that I
might be willing to make you an offer. Will you listen?”
For a moment Dayn’s hopes lifted, but then he
realized any offer Lorcan made would probably not be worth the
taking. Still, he could not help but ask, “What sort of offer?”
“First, give me the names of all those you
have corrupted. Second, free my son and daughter from your spells.
If you do, I will see to it that your heart stops before the flames
lick your boots. ”
Dayn jerked his head in bafflement.
“
What
?” he said.
Lorcan stepped toward him threateningly. “No
point denying it. You know as well as I do that you ensorcelled
them. Why else would Falyn agree to go with you? Why else would my
son be what he is?”
Dayn stood to face him. “What makes you think
I won’t ensorcel you right now?”
Lorcan scoffed. “I’m immune to your black
magic, boy. Do your best. You’ll not work your spells on me.”
“You’re right,” Dayn shot back. “Because I
don’t know how to.”
“Oh, but you do.” Lorcan’s eyes narrowed.
“Now, as I said, tell me the names.”
“There are no names!”
Lorcan grabbed Dayn by the front of his tunic
and shoved him against the nearest wall. In the blink of an eye he
had whipped a blade beneath Dayn’s chin.
Dayn froze, his survival instincts sapping
all ability to move.
“Have you ever seen someone die at the stake,
Dayn?” Lorcan asked. “No? Well let me enlighten you. First you will
be tied to a post atop the pyre for all to see. The square will be
filled with spectators: men, women…even children. Some will pelt
you with rotted fruit, others will taunt and laugh at you. At first
you will feel only humiliation. After all, the pyre is not yet lit;
your flesh is not suffering; you still harbor an element of hope.
But soon the executioner will arrive with the torch. It is then
that you will realize true terror. Your eyes will search for
rescue. But alas, there will be none.