Ignite the Sun

by Hanna Howard

  Linden and Yarrow have always known, though, whispered a small voice.

  But now that they saw what I was capable of, I thought, they would surely leave me. How could they not?

  I felt hands on my shoulders and looked wildly up. Linden had crossed the room and taken hold of me, looking down into my face with a fierce expression.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said, dark brows drawn sharply together. “Weedy, listen to me, it’s not your fault. It’s my fault, not yours.”

  His eyes sought mine, but all I could see was the charred handprint across his neck, the spidery lines of crusted skin where my fingers had burned him. I started to shake with deep, uncontrollable tremors. He tried to hug me, but I shoved him away and slid down the wall, folding my arms over my head.

  “Don’t touch me,” I said, gasping for breath with lungs that seemed to be shrinking. “I’ll just burn you again. No one can touch me. Back away, Linden, I’m a monster.”

  “Siria—”

  “No!” My voice was a ragged shriek, and I scrabbled back along the wall as he reached once more for my shoulders. The absurd gown caught at my feet, and I fell sideways onto my elbow. I curled myself into a ball on the floor before Linden could try and pull me up again.

  It was too much. All of it together was more than I knew how to hold inside my mind, more than I knew how to make sense of. Yesterday I had been an ordinary student at Gildenbrook School for Girls, preparing for a ball that might win me my parents’ favor and a life at court. Today I was a terrible being with no parents at all, on the run from the most powerful woman in the kingdom. And I was . . .

  I was the last sunchild in Terra-Volat.

  The giant truth finally solidified in my mind.

  And like a watch that keeps ticking simply because it has been wound, my brain plodded on with the information I had been given, even though I longed for it to stop.

  Iyzabel wanted me dead because she hated sunchildren . . . but surely that couldn’t be all. If she and her Darkness were supreme, why should she care if one stray sunchild survived her purge?

  Today I shall know at last who is the beast I must kill to ensure the everlasting glory of my kingdom of Darkness.

  Ensure the glory of the Darkness?

  Ensure?

  I knew now that I was a beast—Iyzabel had been right about that—but what was I capable of, and what did Yarrow and Linden and Merrall expect me to do? How much would they ask from me?

  With a slight shock, I realized there was a hand resting on my shoulder. Keeping as calm and controlled as I could so as not to release more harmful light, I raised my head again.

  It was Yarrow’s hand. He sat cross-legged on the floor beside me, deep grooves in his pale forehead, his eyes a soft, cloudy gray. Linden crouched behind him looking tortured, and Merrall watched from one of the small chairs at the table.

  “You haven’t told me everything,” I said with a conviction that surprised even me. At the table, Merrall’s thin eyebrows lifted.

  Yarrow peered at me for a long moment. “No,” he said at last, withdrawing his hand and shifting his legs with a grimace. “Not even close.”

  I nodded, glad he wasn’t trying to deny it. “You said Iyzabel wants me dead because I’m a threat to her magic. What exactly does everyone think I’m going to do?”

  Yarrow’s eyes narrowed behind his spectacles, and his chin wrinkled as he pressed his lips together. I could feel Linden’s gaze too, but I did not look at him. I didn’t want to be distracted from Yarrow’s answer.

  “We think,” he said slowly, “that you can bring back the sun. That you can overcome the Darkness. That you might reinstate the kingdom of Luminor.”

  I stared at him. When, after a few seconds, the information had not sent me into hysterics, I said, “I see,” though I didn’t. “And where are you taking me?”

  Yarrow eyed me warily, but to my surprise, he answered, “North. There’s a resistance group there. Has been since the overthrow. It’s past the mountains in the Northern Wilds, and in addition to its people being loyal to Luminor, there’s a place where the sun is sometimes truly visible. The Darkness tapers off significantly there—doesn’t even extend over the ocean. We think if we can get you there by the vernal equinox . . . well, we might stand a chance against Iyzabel. Your transformation won’t be complete until you’re exposed to direct sunlight.”

  I didn’t understand at all, but I wanted as much information as he would give me. I felt like a puppeteer trying to see how many strings she could hold without dropping them all. “And what’s a vernal equinox?”

  Again, though he was watching me like he might an unpredictable wild animal, Yarrow answered. “It’s the point in spring when the sun hits directly over the middle of the world, making the day and night equal. Sunchildren have old magic associated with that day. We think if you’re exposed to the light of the sun at midday, the burst of energy might make you more powerful than the Darkness.”

  I smiled, a wide, empty smile.

  Behind Yarrow, Linden was gripping his knees so hard that the tendons of his hands stood out like tree roots. Merrall had folded her arms on the table and buried her face in them, and her lank hair and the seaweed-like strips of her brown-and-green dress made her look like she was melting down the chair to the floor.

  The ridiculous image was what finally made me fumble all the strings, and a moment later my smile cracked into a howl of laughter that doubled me up on the dirt floor of the kitchen. I lay there, tears streaming in rivulets from my eyes as I cackled and hooted and crowed, until the hiccups of my laughter became the hiccups of sobs and I couldn’t breathe for crying.

  Yarrow and Linden both tried to gather me off the floor, but I flailed them away, terrified of burning them. “I don’t want—I can’t be this!” I choked, trying to yell, but thwarted by my own ragged weeping. “I don’t want to do any of these things! I’m not a hero or a leader. I’m not even brave! I’m a freak, Yarrow—even my parents think so. How do you expect me to—to—?” I broke off, exhausted by the attempt to translate my untamed, half-formed thoughts into words.

  “The only thing I expect you to do right now,” said Yarrow, very gently, “is to change out of that horrible wet dress, get some hot food in you, and have a good sleep. We can deal with the rest later.”

  My sobs shuddered gradually to a halt, and I glared at him through puffy, burning eyes. Slowly, I nodded. My anger with Yarrow was, after all, nothing compared with the disgust and horror I felt at myself, at what I could do.

  He helped me up, then explained there was a rucksack in the spare room, which he had packed for me. Folded on top of it I would find the thickest of my old woolen dresses, some stockings, and a pair of deer hide boots that had once been Linden’s.

  “Merrall?”

  The naiad raised her head and looked heavily at Yarrow.

  “Please help Siria out of this gown, and make sure she puts those things on. Beq?”

  I had completely forgotten the dwarf woman. She was standing beside the range, looking fretful.

  “You’re sure we’re secure here for the rest of the day? And you have our horses?”

  Beq nodded and scooped up a platter of tea things. “They’re tethered just inside the forest.”

  “Thank you,” said Yarrow. “We’ll sleep a few hours, then, and be on our way.”

  Merrall led me into a side chamber, which turned out to be a modest bedroom with a very short bed, a small desk, and a blazing fire. The bare walls were earthen and curved here as well.

  “Turn around,” said Merrall, her voice hoarse with exhaustion. I heard a metallic flick, a slicing sound, and the corset strings binding my bodice slackened and fell away with the bulk of the gown, leaving me in my damp linen shift.

  I struggled out of the wet silk, disentangling myself from layers of petticoats as Merrall gripped my arm to keep me from falling. A clean, dry shift went on first, then Merrall jerked the thick, brown wool dress over my head and
pulled my arms through the sleeves as though I were a child. The stockings and boots I did myself before draping my black fur-lined cloak over a chair before the fire to dry. I felt hypnotically warm, and comfortable for the first time since I had dressed to go to Umbraz.

  Merrall frowned at my shuddering yawn.

  Tea was steaming from four clay cups when we returned to the table, and Linden and Yarrow were spreading sassafras jam over lumpy biscuits. I sank into the empty chair beside Linden and pulled a mug toward me as Beq slid platters and tureens onto the table. The smell of smoked ham was so intoxicating it made me dizzy.

  Yarrow was talking again, but the words were directed at Linden now, to my relief. I listened without really hearing.

  “With any luck we’ll reach the pass by the middle of Second Month, and then we’ll have a good three or four weeks with the resistance before the equinox. Plenty of time, I think.”

  “If there’s any chance of missing it, though—any chance at all—we’ll have to find a quicker way. Are the eastern ports all guarded too?”

  “Of course they are, lad. There hasn’t been an unguarded port in this country since the overthrow, and even if there were, it would be just as slow. The quickest way to the pass is straight up the Queen’s Road, but that’d be suicide. The equinox is almost two months away. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  I looked up. “A month? We’ll be traveling on horseback for a month?” I had never traveled by horse for any real length of time before. There was no need when your family had a half dozen carriages.

  Linden gave me an encouraging smile and started to reply, but at that moment something sounded from the direction of the stairs. A shout, then a loud crack. I jerked around.

  The dwarf woman was standing in the doorway with a crossbow, which she raised with trembling hands and pointed at me.

  “If any of you moves so much as a hair,” she said quietly, “I swear I’ll kill the sunchild.”

  PART TWO

  “All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle”.

  ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI,

  THE LITTLE FLOWERS OF

  SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI

  17

  CHAPTER

  Another crack came from the door—this one louder than the last. Whoever was outside would smash their way into Beq’s house within moments.

  “Beq . . .” Yarrow began. His Runepiece was still a cane, leaning against the wall across the room.

  “They took my son,” Beq said, eyes darting between Yarrow and me. “I’m sorry, Yarrow, but they took him. They knew you’d been here, somehow. Knew you’d be back with the girl . . .” Her voice broke, and a tear glittered in the soft, golden light as it slipped down her cheek. “They said they would kill him. I’m sorry, but I have no choice.” She swallowed.

  No one moved, but I could see Beq’s hand quivering on the crossbow. I wondered if she might fire by accident, and tried to calculate whether I would have time to dive out of the way if so.

  Below the table, Linden’s hand found mine. His touch was like a stimulant, and my blood bounded at the sensation, jolting me as he squeezed my fingers. Almost inaudibly, I heard him whisper, “Duck.” Then, with a movement so quick it startled me, he leapt up, his chair crashing backward as he propelled himself over the table. At the same moment I hurled myself below it and heard a heavy thunk above me. Beq’s arrow shuddered as it stuck in the wall, directly behind the place my head had been.

  And now the room was in pandemonium. I clambered up to find Linden wresting the crossbow out of Beq’s hands, and Yarrow running toward her with his Runepiece raised. Merrall took the crossbow from Linden, who sprinted to the doorway and laid his palms flat against one of the walls, which immediately began to sprout pale, wormlike roots that wove together to form a dense barrier over the doorway.

  “Through the back room!” Yarrow bellowed, but Merrall had already dashed past Beq—who Yarrow seemed to be putting into some kind of enchanted sleep—into the bedroom where I had changed clothes.

  “Sunchild!” she yelled. “Now!”

  I followed at a run, scooping up my new rucksack and my damp cloak.

  Yarrow, who had dashed in with both his and Linden’s packs, stopped to face the far wall with his Runepiece raised. As I watched, a small hole began to grow in the packed earth. “Linden!” he roared.

  “Half a minute!” Linden shouted from the front room. “Just one more layer!”

  “Now, boy!”

  There was a sudden burst of green from the Runepiece, and the hole expanded before us like a tear in fabric, soil crumbling in great clumps to the floor. Merrall seized an unlit lantern from the desk, clambered into the hole, and began to crawl up the tunnel that had appeared beyond it.

  “In, Siria,” said Yarrow, who likewise had snatched a lantern from Beq’s house, though he blew it out as he gestured at me.

  I hesitated, but a moment later Linden skidded into the room, and Yarrow shoved him after me. I hiked up my skirt, clambered into the narrow hole, and began to crawl. After what seemed miles, I saw Merrall’s hands reaching through an opening, waiting to pull me out into the fresh, cold air.

  On my feet, I brushed clumps of dirt from my dress and peered around at the forest, which was darker than ever after the light in Beq’s burrow. I wondered how much distance separated us from her front door, and whether the soldiers outside it had yet made their way in. A moment later Linden climbed out of the tunnel, and then Yarrow, who sealed the hole at once.

  “What will happen to Beq?” I asked Yarrow.

  He grunted, and I bit my lip. She had betrayed us, but would I have done any different in her place?

  Merrall had already started into the blackness at a brisk jog. We caught up with her where the vague shapes of trees seemed to become denser, and I could just make out her figure turning in circles as she swore under her breath.

  “No horses?” guessed Yarrow. “Iyzabel’s men probably took them when they came for Beq’s son. We’ll have to go on foot, then.”

  “On foot?” Linden repeated with a hollow laugh. “We’ll be lucky to get there by the autumnal equinox, Yarrow.”

  “Pessimism’s never been a problem-solver, my boy. Hurry, you three—we’d best be hidden by the time those soldiers come out again. Linden, our tracks, please.”

  “The entire length of the kingdom on foot?” I said in disbelief. A month on horseback was bad enough; walking would take at least twice as long, and probably kill us all in the process. My voice grew shriller with every word. “Yarrow, we can’t possibly walk all the way to the Northern Wilds. Even if we don’t get murdered by soldiers or eaten by wild animals, we’ll freeze or starve to death, or—”

  With an abrupt movement, Merrall dropped her rucksack, marched toward me, and slapped me hard across the face.

  It was the first time anyone had ever deliberately hit me, and I was shocked at what it did to me. Instead of making me feel cowed or hurt, sending me sprawling or making me cry, it was as if someone had dumped oil on the smoldering ember of my internal flame. Blinding red rage tore through me from my belly up to my eyes, and I reeled back from the slap with another explosive blaze of gold light.

  Surprise registered on the naiad’s face, but her anger was equal to mine—if not stronger—and she flung a watery shield between us with one sweep of her hand, her skin blushing blue.

  “You do not want to find out what happens if you attack me, sunchild.” She hadn’t yet called any of us by name, I realized.

  “What the hell is the matter with you two?” Yarrow cried, looking incredulous.

  “She is the matter!” said Merrall, growing angrier by the moment. My fury was fading with the pain in my cheek, and I crossed my arms to glare at her. Though I tried not to show it, I was horrified by the intensity of my reaction.

  The naiad retracted her water shield, and it flew back into the skin of her palm even
as the blue glow dissipated. But she pointed at me as her eyebrows met above flashing aqua eyes. “She is a pampered princess who has known nothing but privilege and excess! All she has done since we left the city is whine and cry and feel sorry for herself. Never once has she stopped to consider that she might not be the only one here whose life is impacted by this mess. Never once has she considered that there are more important things at stake than her feelings.”

  “I am not a—” I began, outraged, but Linden was quicker.

  “Hold your tongue, siren,” he snarled.

  Yarrow held up his hands, furiously glaring furiously around at all of us. “Siria, put that light out. Anyone in these woods will see us a mile off.”

  As I had done on the bed of the canal, I imagined the light retracting, and this time it obeyed more quickly, though I felt an immediate sag in my energy as I withdrew it. Yarrow’s glare fell into shadow.

  “Squabbling and yelling?” he said quietly. “Fighting each other? You seem to think we’re somehow safer than we were in the city. Let me remind you we’re less than a mile from the edge of the forest, and there’s a mad queen behind us with an army none of us can fight. Siria, Merrall’s right. If you don’t get a grip on yourself, you’ll put us all at risk. And Merrall? I don’t care what you think of Siria. Hit her again and we’ll leave you in the next pond we find. Are we clear?”

  The dark outline of Merrall’s body flushed blue again, but she nodded.

  “Good. Now, we’ve got at least ten miles to go before we can rest. No lanterns yet, so watch your step. Follow me.”

  As the adrenaline seeped out of me, and the retraction of my new power left weariness in its place, it became impossible to fend off fatigue. I walked in a kind of stupor, my entire body sore and protesting, but committing every ounce of my concentration to the dark forest floor, scanning it for roots and rocks that might trip me. I stumbled twice in spite of this, and at some point was offered a hand to hold, though I pushed it away in fear I might burn it.