The Dark Light (27 page)

“If you’re thinking we could intercept that delivery, then yes.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” I said. “Oh, and I got you a bottle of
Sour Soc.
”

I handed it over.

“Haven’t seen this stuff in years,” he said as he flipped the
bottle cap and took a sniff. He pulled away. “That’s nasty.”

“That isn’t what you’re supposed to say when someone offers you a gift.”

“You want it?” he asked, offering it to me.

I took a sniff before conceding his point. “It smells like feet.”

“Not yours, I hope.”

I thought of my old sneakers festering on Rusty’s backseat. “Course not.”

Sol held on to the bottle, and as we passed an old woman shaking a basket for change, he handed it to her. “For you,” he said.

The woman looked as if her birthday and Christmas had come all at once. The power of
Sour Soc
. It never failed to please.

“So Malone’s coming to town,” said Sol, when we moved on. “I knew the little worm couldn’t resist.”

He was in full stride mode. It was kind of hard to keep up. “I’m guessing you two have a history.”

“He’s a clawcurling snake.”

“You don’t have any claws.” I hesitated. “Do you?”

“Only on the full moon.” He must have caught the look on my face. “Joke.”

“You never can tell in these parts.”

Though I’d yet to fully catch my bearings, I was pretty sure we were headed away from Vermillion’s, not that I minded keeping Sol to myself. He pointed out landmarks as we walked.
The boarded-up building that had once housed the Magician’s Guild. Maslian Rock, a giant statue of the Freeman who’d discovered the caves where the people of Welkin’s Valley had hidden after the siege in Narlow. And the Evening Song Fountain with its breathtaking cascade of multicolored waters. But it wasn’t until we reached the Velanhall that we stopped.

The palace was larger than anything I’d ever seen. The row of cream-colored mansions adorned with flags and banners that faced the palace were far grander than the homes on Orion’s back streets. This was obviously where Orion’s powerful resided.

We crossed to the Velanhall’s steps, great marble monstrosities that led to the terraces above. I looked up, up, up to the towers, which rose like beacons against the deepening sunset. I shivered.

“They don’t hold people in those towers, Mia,” said Sol.

“Are you a mind reader?”

“Lucky guess.”

I traced the steps that spiraled the nearest tower’s outer wall and figured there had to be at least five hundred. A huge star was engraved in the stone near the top.

“It’s the Morningstar,” said Sol, catching the direction of my gaze. “It symbolizes hope. As the sun rises, it strikes the tower and the star shines for a few moments. It marks a fresh start, another chance on a new day.”

I stared at the Morningstar and wondered if Jay could see it too. “I wish he knew I was here,” I said. “That he’s not forgotten.”

“Kids are tough, Mia. If Jay’s anything like you, he’ll be fine.”

“Jay’s more resilient than I am.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Sol replied, softly.

I turned my back on the Velanhall and sank onto the bottom step. “Ever since Jay came to Crownsville, I think he’s been dreaming of this place. He remembers his mother, you know. He said they took her.”

“Not having parents must have been hard for both of you,” said Sol.

“It was harder for Jay,” I replied. “He’d play games with swords and magic. I just thought it was something that boys did. But I wonder if he remembered all along that he was from here.”

“Mia, he couldn’t have known much.”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I think this place has always been inside him.”

I watched sentinels patrolling, remembering the horrific chase through the woods surrounding Bordertown.

“Sol, about the plan,” I said.

He sat at my side, his legs close to mine, his presence once again a comfort. “What about it?”

I felt the Velanhall looming behind me, its huge towers symbols of its impenetrable power, with Jay captive somewhere inside.

“I think we should get Jay first,” I said.

Sol tilted his head as he listened—he
was
listening, I could see it all over his face. “Mia, getting into this place won’t be easy.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Once we have the Solenetta, you’re going to want to get it out of Orion. No one’s gonna stay to help Jay.” I put my hand on his knee. “Sol, please don’t get the Solenetta back and then bail on me.”

My words clearly shocked him, and I felt bad for thinking he might do that after everything we’d be through.

“Why would you even say that?” he asked.

I took a deep breath. “It’s like the Solenetta is all anybody cares about! I can’t leave without him. I won’t.”

Sol took my hands before I could pull away, his grip strong. “Mia,” he said, his expression serious, his eyes filled with assurance. “I promised. And I’ll promise again. We’ll get Jay out.”

“You swear. Like on a blood rite?”

“I’d swear on anything,” he said, squeezing my hands. I could almost feel the power of his promise passing from his hands into mine. “I’d cut out one of Delane’s hearts and swear on that if it would make you trust me.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “He wouldn’t be too happy about that.”

“He can get by with one. Mia, you can’t ever believe that I’d leave your brother in the hands of that animal.”

“No,” I said, and I meant it. “But I could believe that you’d try and get me and the Solenetta out, then worry about Jay later.”

From the sudden change in his look, it was clear I was closer to the mark. “It’s dangerous for you here, Mia.”

“And more so for Jay. He’s all alone, Sol. He doesn’t have you looking out for him.”

“Mia, believe me,” he said. “He does.”

He released my hands. The switch had flicked. All the control, all the restrain was back. He was wound so tight I could almost feel him pulsating beside me.

“Mia, there’s something I have to tell you.”

I braced myself. With this kind of buildup, the news was sure to be huge. Or bad. Or both. There were no ribbons and rainbows when Sol was struck with this mood.

“About Jay?” My voice was shaky.

“About me.”

He looked uncertain. He was
nervous
. My heart raced.

“I should have told you before,” he said. “I meant to. I wanted to, but . . .”

He frowned, struggling for the right words.

“What is it?” I asked. “Sol?”

Still he fought against whatever it was he had to say. I reached for his arm, desperate to urge him on. “Sol?”

Nothing.

“Solandun.”

He turned. The light from the sunset caught in his eyes. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“I guess,” I replied. “I never really thought about it.”

“It’s just a name, right?”

“Of course.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he said, almost to himself.

I scowled. “Okay, now you’re freaking me out.”

I looked away, hoping a little personal space might help him open up. It didn’t. Hating the silence, I was ready to speak, but stopped as my gaze caught a figure sprinting across the square.

“Is that Delane?” I asked. “It’s Delane.”

Sol saw him too, for he got to his feet and protectively reached for my hand, the moment forgotten. “This doesn’t look good.”

Delane skidded to a stop in front of us. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” he said, panting. “Vermillion said you were at the hideout.”

“We took a detour,” said Sol. “What’s happened?”

Delane glanced at Sol, then licked his lips and looked at me, clearly uneasy. “It’s Bromasta,” he said. “He’s here.”

I
’d once sworn that when I finally saw my father, I’d slap his stupid face. But I couldn’t. He didn’t have a stupid face. He had a handsome face, worn, but handsome. He was dark in the hair and eyes and, at the moment, in need of a shower and a shave.

He sat in Vermillion’s kitchen in a long black coat, much like Old Man Crowley’s. Flakes of dry, crusty mud covered the sleeves. When he got to his feet, his presence loomed, tall and broad.

I’d always wondered how we might meet, but I’d never dreamed it would be in Brakaland. And my father had never looked like this in those dreams, more like the guy who’d sold me
the bottle of
Sour Soc
. The scenes I’d imagined usually involved me burning with rage, demanding the apology that, deep down, I believed Jay and I were owed, and then showing him the door as he had done to us. That was how it was supposed to be. I never once imagined that it would feel this surreal.

The house was empty, except for us and Sol, who hung back in the doorway, arms folded. He nodded when I looked back to him, reminding me that I probably needed to speak.

“We came through the valley,” I said, hesitantly. “I saw the house.”

It wasn’t much of a start. What was I supposed to do? Throw myself into his arms and squeal,
I love you, Dad!

“I’m relieved it still stands,” my father replied.

“You haven’t been back?”

“I doubt I could ever go back,” he said.

He pointed to the bench on the opposite side of the table. I sat, back straight, chin up, feeling a little like when I’d interviewed for my job at Mickey’s.
Here’s a resume of my life, Dad. Sorry you’re not in it, but you were busy with other things.
But I didn’t want to talk about me.

“You know your son is here,” I said. “That Elias, or whatever his name is, took him and six other boys.”

My father’s gaze never once left my face. “It’s why I came,” he replied. “I received a message not long after it happened and
I immediately set out. I have been traveling night and day.”

What did he want? A Boy Scout badge?

“A message from whom?” I asked.

“From your uncle, Petraeus.”

Petraeus?
“You mean
Pete
? But Pete’s in Crownsville.”

He took from his pocket a palm-sized stone, sapphire in color and highly polished. He placed it on the table between us. I snatched it up. “I’ve seen this before! On the living room shelf.”

“It’s a parler stone,” said Bromasta, still watching me intently. “A communication device. This is one of a pair. Your uncle holds the other.”

“So you’ve been checking up on us.”

“More regularly than you know.”

I ran my finger across the surface and caught my face reflected back. My frown was so deep it reminded me of Oscar the Grouch. I pictured Pete alone at the house. I saw the blue stone on the bookshelf. Crownsville had never seemed so close. “We should call him.”

Bromasta took the stone from my hand and laid it back on the table. “There’s nothing Petraeus can do to help.”

“But he might care to know that I’m still alive!” I caught the accusation in my tone as soon as I’d said the words. I paused. This wasn’t about Pete and polished stones. “What are you doing here?”

“I came for you and Jaylan.”

“His name’s
Jay
. And you’ve had years to do that. Why now?”

“Because everything your mother and I’d planned for you has unraveled.”

My heart kicked as soon as he said “mother.” This was going to be harder than I thought. He was holding back, almost as much as I was. You could see it in the tension around his mouth, the deep ridges on his forehead, and the white knuckles of his clasped hands.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“She is gone.”

“Gone? Or dead?”

He failed to reply. It didn’t take a genius to put it together. “It’s because of what she did, isn’t it?” I said. “She stole the necklace.”

It was only when Bromasta looked to the doorway that I remembered that Sol was there. “How much does she know?” he asked him.

“Not much,” replied Sol. He turned away, clearly wanting no part in the conversation. “I’ll be outside if you need me, Mia.” He closed the door behind him.

“Why did you leave us?” I asked, as soon as we were alone. “I can look after myself, but
Jay
? He’s just a kid.”

“We had no choice,” said Bromasta. He shifted in his seat and the scent of horse and sweat rose from his coat.

“I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Giving you up was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I wouldn’t have done it differently. If I’d had my way, you would never have come back here.”

At least he was honest.

“Too late now,” I said. “Why did they kill her?”

It was clear we were cut from the same cloth; he kept his emotions almost as tightly reined as me. But that one question finally made a crack in his businesslike facade.

“Because of who she was,” he said.

“And who was that?”

Pain entered his eyes—deep, heartfelt pain, more physical than emotional, and right away I knew that he’d loved her.

“Your mother was the rightful keeper of the Solenetta.”

It took a couple of seconds for that to sink in. I’d spent so many years profiling a woman I’d never known, a thief, or worse, languishing in jail, serving time as she deserved. My father’s declaration turned the entire theory on its head. All these years, I’d thought my mother was the worst kind of scum and she’d done nothing wrong? The Solenetta had been rightfully hers?

“Your mother’s name was Ilalia,” he continued. “She was Balian. Born of the bloodline descended from the creators of the Barrier. They, and only they, have the power to manipulate the solens and create a true and lasting Equinox.” He’d
regained his calm manner. It suited me fine. I could handle calm and collected.

“Then how come other people can use grains?” I asked.

He nodded slowly. Was that a trace of a smile?

“You’re sharp, Mia. Tell me what you know.”

“Not much,” I replied. “A solen grain is in an orb, the orb contains a spell, the spell allows the grain to open the Barrier. But there’s no spell strong enough to harness the power of a complete solen. Right?”

“That’s right.”

“But you said someone with Balian blood doesn’t need the spell. That they can open the Barrier using only a solen. So even if Elias finds a solen, it’s worthless without one of that bloodline to use it?”