Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (43 page)

Sheireadan stepped through the doorway and
stopped, startled to see her fast approaching.

“Hurry,” she said impatiently. “We don’t have
much time.”

“Time for what?” Sheireadan asked. “I’m
already packed.”

“Father is looking for you. And he’s
not
happy.”

Sheireadan flinched, but then he reached into
the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a package. “I got the
medicinal like you suggested. You told him to check the apothecary,
right?”

“Yes, but you know as well as I do where
he’ll look next if he doesn’t find you there. And if anyone saw you
with Caryl—”

“Well, nobody did,” Sheireadan said with
annoyance. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Falyn turned and headed back to her room.
Sheireadan followed at her heels.

“Get your bag,” she said over her shoulder.
“We need to be out of here before Father returns.” She shoved one
last piece of clothing into her satchel and secured it.

“What are you talking about?”

Falyn brushed past him and into the hallway,
suitcase in hand. “I’ll explain later,” she said, gesturing for him
to follow.

“What haven’t you told me?” Sheireadan
asked.

“I’ll tell you on the way,” she replied.

Sheireadan halted. “On the way to where?” he
demanded.

Falyn set her expression to firm, then turned
to face him. “We are going to meet Dayn.”

Sheireadan took a startled step back. “We’re
what
?”

“We’re going to the clan lands. Now get your
bag.”

“Have you lost your senses? We can’t
just—”

“Of course we can. It’s all been
arranged.”

Sheireadan threw his hands into the air.
“Arranged?” he cried. “By whom?”

“By Dayn. He has invited us to live with him.
I didn’t tell you sooner because I was afraid you’d do something
foolish.”

Sheireadan gaped at Falyn as if she had grown
a second head. “Is this some sort of joke?”

“No. We’re to meet him at the Well of Wishes
at high sun. He’ll escort us on to the clan lands from there.”

Sheireadan guffawed. “I’m not going anywhere
with that—that—”

Falyn slammed her bag to the ground. “Now you
listen to me,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger.
“If you love Caryl, you’ll do as I say. Because if you don’t, you
know what will happen.”

Sheireadan turned his attention toward the
front door. “I can’t just
leave
. Caryl would never
understand.”

“You’d be doing this for him as well as
yourself.”

“But Caryl wouldn’t know that!”

“Of course he would. He’s seen what happens
to those accused of the act the two of you have been stupid enough
to commit.”

Sheireadan huffed. “What makes you think
Father would risk anyone knowing? If Caryl went to trial, then I
would, too, wouldn’t I?”

“Not if Father found a way to keep your name
out of it. I wouldn’t put it past him to make an example of Caryl
anyway.”

Sheireadan’s nostrils flared. “Let him
try!”

“Watch your words or you just might find
yourself next to him on an execution pyre!” Falyn placed a
commanding hand on his arm. “You have to leave, Sheireadan. It’s
the only way.”

Sheireadan grew quiet as he worked to digest
her argument. At last he nodded, then blinked as if coming to his
senses. “No. Absolutely not. I’ll not have you giving yourself to a
demon to save my skin or anyone else’s.”

“I’m not giving myself to a demon—I’m giving
it to Dayn. Besides, I’m not just doing it for you. I’m doing it
for me.” Falyn turned her eyes to her feet, then back to her
brother. “I love him.”

Sheireadan’s eyes nearly bulged from his
skull. “You what?”

“Don’t you dare judge me,” Falyn snapped.

“
Judge
you?” Sheireadan said
sarcastically. “Why in the world would I judge you? After all,
you’ve only just told me you’re in love with a demon.”

“And you’re in love with a man!” Falyn
retorted. “At least my crime isn’t punishable by death. Yet.”

Sheireadan’s jaw dropped, but no sound
escaped.

Falyn lifted her chin. “So? Are you going to
get your bag or not?”

Sheireadan held his ground for a determined
moment more, then stomped to his room and grabbed his satchel off
the bed.

They walked toward the front door, Falyn
leading the way, but then she realized Sheireadan was no longer
following. She turned to see him staring at the floorboards.

“Sheireadan,” she said gently. “This doesn’t
mean you’ll never see Caryl again. Once we get settled, we can send
for him.”

Sheireadan shook his head. “You know as well
as I do that will never happen.”

Falyn stepped toward him and set her bag at
her feet. She took him by the shoulders and gave him a determined
shake. “No matter what happens, you will always have me. You are my
brother, and I love you.”

Sheireadan smiled painfully. “I know, but you
can’t give me the kind of love that I need. You’ll have Dayn. Who
will I have?”

Falyn did not know how to respond. She had no
way of knowing whether or not the clans would accept her brother
for what he was. For that matter, she didn’t know if Dayn would
either. Sheireadan had made Dayn’s life a misery for years, ever
since her father had caught her and Dayn talking over the fence
that ran along their front yard. From that moment on, it had been
Sheireadan’s assigned duty to keep Dayn away from her, and he had
done his duty well.

“I can’t make you any promises,” she said at
last. “We’re both going into the unknown. But isn’t that better
that living with what we
do
know—that I will be forced to
wed Zared and you will never be free of Father’s fist?”

Sheireadan’s eyes grew distant, as if he were
recalling all the times he had been bullied and abused by his
father. Lorcan had always been hard on him, but hard had turned to
cruel when Sheireadan had reached the age to court. His father had
introduced him to many prominent daughters, but after steadfastly
rejecting all of them, it soon became clear that Sheireadan’s
interests ran in a different direction. And for that, Lorcan hated
him.

“You’re right,” Sheireadan said. “I will
always be what I am, no matter how many times Father tries to beat
it out of me.”

Sheireadan picked up Falyn’s satchel and
handed it to her. “At least I won’t have to damage my knuckles on
Dayn’s face anymore.” His expression turned grim. “I’m no better
than Father, am I.”

“You’re nothing like Father, at least not on
the inside,” Falyn said. “Your actions toward Dayn, however, were
becoming a rather good imitation of him.”

Sheireadan smirked. “And what of your
imitation, that of the perfect daughter.”

“You’re right,” Falyn said. “I’ve gotten good
at hiding that part of myself I could not allow Father to see.”

“Which is?”

“The part that is in love with Dayn.” Falyn
smiled, then took Sheireadan by the hand, pulling him toward the
door. But in that instant the door burst open, stopping them both
in their tracks.

Lorcan grabbed Sheireadan by the front of his
tunic and shoved him against the nearby china cabinet. Dishes
toppled behind glass casements, some spinning, others crashing from
shelves being knocked from their brackets.

“What did I tell you about seeing that boy?”
Lorcan shouted, his face bulging with fury.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Sheireadan stammered.

Lorcan backhanded him across the face,
sending Sheireadan sprawling. “Don’t lie to me!”

Sheireadan gained his footing and scrambled
across the room. “I’m not lying, Father. I swear it!”

“Don’t you dare run from me, boy,” Lorcan
bellowed. He grabbed up the walking cane he kept propped by the
door. It was carved from dark wood, with a brass handle molded into
the shape of an elk’s head. But it was seldom used for walking.

Lorcan marched toward his son, chairs and
lamps flying as he swept them aside.

“Father, no!” Falyn screamed. She rushed
toward him, grappling for his arm, but he shoved her away.

“You’ll take what’s coming to you,” Lorcan
yelled. “And you’ll take it like the man I raised you to be.”

Sheireadan inched along the wall, his eyes
wide with terror. For a moment he looked more like a child than a
young man, but what else could he be when every ounce of
self-respect had been beaten out of him.

“Please, Father. I—I only went to the
apothecary, I swear!”

“Lies!”

Lorcan drew back the cane, then swept it
down. Sheireadan raised his arm to stop the blow, but it did no
good. Wood met bone, and Sheireadan fell, slumped against the wall,
cradling his elbow.

Falyn leapt toward him just as Lorcan was
raising the cane for another go. She planted herself in front of
her brother, positioning her body in a protective stance. “Don’t
you
dare
touch him again!” she threatened through her
teeth.

Lorcan froze, the cane still raised. For a
moment his eyes held a look of disbelief, but then they grew dark.
“Step aside, daughter, or you’ll be next.”

Falyn felt her body trembling and prayed her
father did not notice. But she could not remain silent. “If you’re
going to hit me, Father, then you had best get on with it. I’ll not
let you touch him again.”

Lorcan lowered the cane slowly, but Falyn
knew better than to let down her guard. Though her father might not
use the cane on her, he had other methods of keeping her in her
place.

Lorcan stared hard at her. “It is the Maker’s
will that children respect their parents,” he said firmly.

Falyn quailed at the speech she knew was
coming.

“The Written Word speaks of it,” Lorcan
continued, “in verse after verse. When I took your mother into my
bed, I did not take my duty as her husband lightly. And what did I
get for my devotion?” He turned his smoldering gaze to Sheireadan.
“A son corrupted by the worst of all possible sins.” Then to Falyn.
“And a daughter who condones it.”

He moved toward Falyn and shoved her aside,
the strength of his arm knocking her to the floor. With a sudden
grab he had Sheireadan by the hair and was yanking him to his feet.
Sheireadan grimaced as Lorcan shoved him toward the door, but he
made no attempt to escape. His arm was still cradled against his
chest, and his spirit was too damaged to run.

“No, Father!” Falyn cried.

“By all that is mighty, girl, I will cure
this family of its ills!” Lorcan bellowed. “It began with your
brother and it will end with him. If the threat of pyres and
eternal brimstone are not enough to cleanse his soul, then I will
purge it myself!”

Lorcan shoved open the door, and with
Sheireadan’s hair still in his hand dragged him through it. Falyn
scrambled up and ran after them, demanding that her father stop.
But Lorcan ignored her and continued toward the woods behind the
house.

It did not take long for them to reach the
pit. An odorous fog hovered over it, blanketing its long, jagged
opening. The crevice was not wide, but it was large enough for a
full-sized man to disappear into.

Lorcan yanked Sheireadan toward the edge,
forcing him to look down. “You see this, boy? The heat of this is
nothing compared to the flames that will be licking your boots if
you don’t mend your ways.” He jerked him closer. “How long were you
in here the last time?”

“A day and a night,” Sheireadan’s barely
audible voice said.

“Obviously not long enough.” Lorcan shoved
Sheireadan in.

Sheireadan cried out as he plunged into the
darkness.

“No!” Falyn rushed to the edge, gazing down
at the shadowy figure of her brother sprawled upon the rocks below.
She spun to face her father. “He won’t survive down there!”

Lorcan looked at her, his expression
strangely void of emotion. “He does not come out until he is
cleansed.”

“And if he can’t be cleansed?”

“Then he dies.” Lorcan turned away. “Come
daughter,” he said. “There are families awaiting our aid.”

But Falyn did not follow her father’s
instructions. She gathered her skirts and plowed past him, running
as fast as she could toward the house. She knew Lorcan would stroll
home, expecting to find her curled up on her bed, crying into her
pillow as she usually did. But this time would be different: her
bed would be empty, and so would the stall that housed her father’s
fastest horse.

****

Dayn paced by the well, nervously eyeing the
sky. A fast-moving bank of clouds was obscuring the sun, turning
its former brightness to a milky haze of gray. When he’d left home
that morning, the sky had been blue and the weather promising. He’d
gathered his bow and saddled his horse, casually announcing a
sudden desire to go hunting. Much to his surprise, there had been
no protests. Two weeks prior, his uncle would have strictly
forbidden him to go. Haskel had kept a close eye on Dayn ever since
learning of his earlier rendezvous with Falyn.

Since then, Dayn had worked hard to regain
his uncle’s trust. He’d accompanied Haskel to numerous homesteads,
helping those families who wished to leave, and preparing defenses
for those who wished to stay. Haskel’s homestead, being the closest
to Kiradyn, was the first in the line of defense should the Vestry
decide to attack, but even though it was at the greatest risk from
both the Vestry and the mountain, hundreds of clansmen had stayed
on after the Gathering to lend their support.

A gust of wind ruffled the branches of the
trees, sending a shower of leaves spiraling to the ground. Dayn
prayed a storm wasn’t brewing, but then a flash of lightning
flitted across the sky, followed by a long, deep rumble of thunder.
The air became noticeably cooler as the wind whipped through the
trees. Dayn pulled his collar around his neck and flicked a shock
of hair from his face. If only the rain would wait a while longer,
he lamented, at least until he and Falyn were safely on their way.
Another rumble sounded, but this time Dayn realized it wasn’t
thunder; it was the sound of pounding hooves.