Eyes of the Sun (Kilenya Series, 5)

by Andrea Pearson

  “I’ve got to find Early,” he said. “Take care of my dad.”

  “What’s going on inside?” Akeno asked.

  “Battling. They’re battling.”

  As soon as Akeno had sat down by Dad, Jacob opened the door and stepped inside. He could hear the fight going on upstairs—Ara Liese shrieking and Azuriah yelling—but he ignored it, searching the air and floor for his Minya.

  He found her on the stairs. She’d crawled to the edge—she couldn’t hold herself up enough to fly. Thank goodness she hadn’t passed out like usual! Her face lit when she saw him, and Jacob’s eyes watered. She’d love him regardless of what he did to her.

  “Oh, Early, I’m so sorry.”

  She didn’t respond, but smiled up at him, her dark curls falling away from her sheet-white face.

  Jacob got out the container, then held his hand in front of her. She crawled onto it. He put her in the container, then took it outside and handed it to Akeno. “Make sure nothing bumps her. I’m going back inside to help.”

  A cold sweat broke out across his back and chest when he thought about reentering that room. His breathing increased, making him lightheaded. He didn’t want to go in there ever again, but Azuriah needed him. Jacob pushed his feelings aside and took the stairs two at a time, ignoring his aching and exhausted muscles. He slowed when he reached the door, then looked inside. No sense jumping into the middle of the fight without knowing what was going on.

  The battle continued. Light shot from Azuriah’s eyes, blinding to look at. Likewise, darkness burst from the Lorkon’s eyes, meeting Azuriah’s light. Their entire bodies were intent on pushing their power forward. Azuriah’s pole lay forgotten next to him, but Jacob could tell the Shiengol’s arms would be useless with every bit of his willpower focused on his eyes.

  Jacob stepped into the room, standing against the wall, in a position where he could see both of them. Ara Liese looked just as freaky as before—the darkness of her face made Jacob cringe. But what concerned him even more was that she seemed to have a limitless supply of energy. Her body was lithe, able. Not weak and wearied like Azuriah’s.

  She was going to win.

  Jacob yanked on his hair. There had to be something he could do. He refused to watch his great-uncle get killed. But what could he do? He reached for Azuriah’s pole, but immediately dropped that idea—he was too inexperienced with it. Could he trip her? Push her over? Knock her out somehow? Jacob approached her, but as soon as he did, Azuriah shouted at him.

  “Go, Jacob! I can’t protect you and fight her!”

  Jacob knew that was true. But he had to help! A thought entered his mind and he bit his lip, considering it. He was part Shiengol. And Lorkon blood flowed through his veins. He should be able to enter the fight—touch the lightness and the darkness without getting hurt.

  Without thinking it through further, Jacob sprinted to a window and looked at the sun until he couldn’t stand it anymore—thirty seconds at least. He whirled, then instead of running to Azuriah’s side, he stepped toward the spot where the lightness and darkness met.

  Jacob reached both hands forward, putting them in the middle of the battling shades. With his teeth clenched and every muscle tensing, he separated the colors, pushing them toward their owners. His arms began shaking with the strain—it took all of his concentration not to lose his position.

  Azuriah and Ara Liese didn’t seem to notice Jacob’s intervention, and that was probably for the best. As soon as Jacob had the black and white separated as far as he could, he focused all of his remaining energy and light, adding it to Azuriah’s. Without the dark touching them, the two lights built together until the room was so bright, Jacob almost closed his eyes.

  Then, when he couldn’t hold it any longer, Jacob released both the black and the light. He pushed his at the queen, feeling Azuriah’s follow.

  The force of both their energies hit her so hard, she flew backward and slammed into the wall behind her. She fell to the ground, unconscious.

  Then she disappeared.

  Jacob gasped in shock, but Akeno laughed from the doorway. “I got her!”

  Azuriah stumbled forward, grabbing Jacob’s arm. “Thank you.”

  Jacob felt his heart grow—he was sure those words were foreign to his uncle, and he appreciated hearing them.

  Azuriah straightened. “Put her in the box.”

  “Already done,” Akeno said.

  The Shiengol nodded. “Let’s go.”

  The three met Dad on the porch. He sat against the wall, holding Early’s container. He smiled up at Jacob. Jacob smiled back and relief flooded over him so strong his eyes prickled. Boy, his eyes had been doing that a lot lately.

  Just then, Gallus and Mr. Coolidge rushed from the forest, followed by a bunch of humans.

  Gallus reached the porch first. He was breathing hard. “What happened?”

  “We could ask you the same thing,” Azuriah said.

  “We found the snakes, but were completely powerless,” Gallus said. “They took us to a cabin in the forest. It was full—and I mean full—of dead bodies.”

  Azuriah rubbed his chin. “That would make sense.” He looked at Jacob, then back to Gallus. “Anyone she didn’t want would end up there.” He frowned. “Why didn’t you return sooner?”

  “We couldn’t escape at first. Then suddenly, the door opened. Something triggered it.”

  Azuriah nodded. “Probably when Ara Liese was knocked unconscious.” He pointed at Dad. “Help Dmitri. We’ve got the Shiengol Lorkon, and it’s time to go.” He turned to Jacob again. “Take us to my fortress in the village.”

  Jacob opened the link, and he and Gallus helped Dad through. They slumped to the chairs in Azuriah’s library with relief. Pambri was there already, which surprised Jacob. He’d expected her to be gone for hours.

  “The Lorkon sent an army,” she said. “Molgs, Dusts, and humans again, along with human-like beings who could control fire.”

  “Ember Gods,” Jacob said.

  “Yes, well, we took care of them.” She put her hand on Azuriah’s arm. “We should be grateful the Lorkon themselves didn’t come.”

  Azuriah nodded, and not for the first time, Jacob wondered what would happen when a Lorkon and Shiengol fought. The battle he’d just witnessed didn’t count—Ara Liese was part Shiengol.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “We regroup,” Azuriah said. “We need time to rest and ready ourselves to fight Lirone.”

  Dad wiped his forehead. “When do we leave?”

  “First thing in the morning.”

  Jacob tilted his head, frowning, blinking past the haze that was trying to cover his eyes. “Don’t we want to go sooner than that? Won’t the Lorkon attack again?”

  Azuriah shrugged. “Perhaps.” He looked at Jacob skeptically. “But are you ready to go through what we just did for a second time today? It’ll be similar with Lirone—pushing with your eyes.”

  Jacob opened his mouth, then closed it. Azuriah was right. He hadn’t noticed the pain earlier, but it had built considerably since leaving the manor. It was like his eyes were straining to disappear inside his head and never be used again. He nodded. “Rest would be good.”

  Azuriah dismissed them, then said, “It’s a risk, but war carries risks.”

  Jacob, Dad, Akeno, and Gallus returned to Mendon. Gallus and his family were staying in Jacob’s family room, and Akeno slept in a tree not far from the house. Mom was excited to see them, and especially glad to hear they’d been successful. Everyone sat in the living room, talking.

  Jacob didn’t have the energy to stick around. He trudged up the stairs and to his room and checked on Early—she was sleeping. The moment his head hit his pillow, he was out.

  Chapter Sixteen: Eachan’s Own Mission

  Eachan paced the front room of the town hall. Something was wrong—something was definitely wrong. He hadn’t seen the Ember Gods for a couple of days—he always saw them at least twice a day. Sanso, w
ho seemed to be their leader, more often. And he hadn’t heard from Jacob’s group. He hadn’t even heard from the Lorkon.

  Eachan dabbed at the sweat on his forehead, wondering what he should do. Had the Lorkon attacked? Had they demolished Dmitri and his followers? His eyes lit up when that crossed his mind—it sure would solve a lot of problems.

  As soon as he realized what he’d just thought, he cursed. That wasn’t how he wanted this to end. He wanted Dmitri to win. He wanted the freedom which the country—no, the world—had previously enjoyed. Eachan leaned against the door when he realized that really was what he wanted. He no longer felt a sense of obligation to the Lorkon.

  He took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of it entering his lungs. Freedom. Previously, it was such a distant possibility. But, if Dmitri won, it was just around the corner.

  Speaking of around the corner . . . Eachan looked out the window. A few villagers wandered the streets, but not many. No Ember Gods anywhere. Something was wrong.

  He looked at the bag he’d packed. He wasn’t running—he couldn’t. But it was time to make a trip to the castle. And for once, without the Lorkon knowing.

  Eachan grabbed the bag and slung it over his shoulder. He had two purposes for going to the castle. First, to find out what the Lorkon were up to, and second, to figure out how they held him and the other villagers in place. He was tired of being tacked down. The experience last year of his insides stopping while his body tried to move forward was horrendous. He refused to go through that again.

  The invisible Lorkon barrier held all the Maivoryl City villagers in place, but Eachan had been granted access to the castle. The Lorkon used to have him report in person before they’d entrusted him with beetles.

  Eachan exited the town hall, locked it up behind him, and then walked through the deserted city. He passed the first barrier—the one that stopped the other villagers. His barrier was on the far side of the castle. He’d found it once before and learned not to try running away again.

  He paused several times to lean against trees and catch his breath. He had to rub his joints frequently, trying to get the pain to leave long enough for him to accomplish his little mission.

  Finally, he arrived at the castle’s outer walls. He stopped near the arch. There were Molgs everywhere. Since when had the Lorkon employed Molgs to guard their castle? And how would Eachan get in without them knowing?

  He couldn’t possibly enter the castle without a Molg seeing him. He’d have to talk to them. One of the Molgs was much bigger than the rest and commanded attention. Eachan approached him.

  “I have a delivery for the kitchens from Maivoryl City.”

  The Molg looked at him with disdain and only grunted in response. Eachan waited for some sort of permission to continue and when it didn’t come, he shrugged and walked past the beast. He stepped cautiously into the castle. No one stopped him. It occurred to him he wasn’t important enough for the Lorkon to pay attention to any longer.

  Eachan smiled bitterly. He’d make them regret that decision.

  He kept to the sides, avoiding contact with other people and creatures.

  His first destination was the room where the Lorkon kept their fire beetles. They still weren’t aware of the fact that Eachan knew the beetles were there. He’d seen Keitus through the open door once as the Lorkon delivered a message. They must hold other secrets in the room.

  Eachan reached the room, hugging the wall as he approached. It was unguarded. Why? And the door was unlocked. At first, he was suspicious. Was it a trap? Did they know he was coming? But again, he realized the Lorkon were arrogant. They didn’t expect him to turn against them. They felt their castle was perfectly safe from intruders.

  Idiots.

  Eachan slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him. The air was musty and smelled slightly acidic. It was lit by twin windows high in the stone wall. Eachan started searching, not wanting to spend too much time there.

  He found several glass jars and opened one, revealing the black beetles. They were three inches long, one inch wide, with two sets of antennae. Duana had hated them. Eachan pocketed several to use to contact Aloren’s group later.

  As he continued his search, he found a number of things of interest, including a paper listing all of the traps the Lorkon had created over the past several years. He scanned it quickly—he didn’t see anything about the hold on him and the other villagers, so he put it back. If he took it, he’d just draw suspicion to himself.

  Starting to the right of the door and making his way around, Eachan shuffled through books and drawers. He looked under the rug and moved desks and chairs, focusing on searching from the ground up.

  Finally, he started inspecting the walls, and felt like hitting himself for not starting there first.

  On one wall hung a huge board with several hundred vials tacked to it with twine around their necks. Some were nearly empty, others completely full. A few had been shattered. It took Eachan a moment to notice, but each vial had a name above it. He recognized the vials. He’d seen one when he’d first agreed to work for the Lorkon, and they’d taken a drop of his blood and put it in the little container.

  Eachan quickly located his. The thing was full of thick, brown liquid. He looked down—a small cupboard below contained liquids and powders, probably the ones needed to make the potions.

  Was this the physical representation of his contract with the Lorkon? If he destroyed his vial, would he be free?

  Eachan inspected the shattered vials, then drew his hand back when he recognized the names above. Myler was one of them. These were the people who’d left Maivoryl City. What had happened? Did the vial shatter when Jacob took the people away, or had the Lorkon known what Eachan was doing and destroyed the vials themselves?

  Regardless, Eachan wanted—needed—his freedom. He pulled his vial down and put it on the floor, then stepped on it as hard as he could. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg joints, he ground the glass into the stone.

  And then he felt his shoulders straighten, lighten. A feeling of optimism poured over him—such as he hadn’t felt in years. Had he just released himself? Feelings of happiness coursed through him. He closed his eyes and raised his face, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. The last shred of accountability to the Lorkon left.

  Eachan coughed several times, trying to regain control of his emotions. He couldn’t wipe the silly grin off his face, though, and he really didn’t want to. He was free! Oh, freedom, sweet freedom.

  Without a look back, he left the room.

  He didn’t forget, however, that he had other tasks to complete. As he neared Keitus’s throne room, he heard shouting.

  Eachan slipped into the room. He could have entered, screaming his arrival, and not been seen—Keitus and the other three Lorkon were arguing loudly and the wolves circled, barking and growling. The commotion in the room gave Eachan a sudden headache and he slipped behind one of the many curtains to watch, cradling the side of his head.

  Keitus threw a map down. “No, we will not attack in that direction! We will go straight through the broken barrier.”

  One of the Lorkon snorted. “They’ll be expecting that.”

  “Does it matter?” Keitus glared.

  The Lorkon shrugged.

  Eachan listened, staying motionless, as Keitus planned their next attack. They would amass an army at Fornchall and leave in a couple of weeks. Eachan patted his pocket where he felt the beetles squirming. He’d be able to inform Jacob and Aloren. They’d want advance notice, of course, and he’d do whatever he could to help them.

  Then the Lorkon started fighting again. They yelled at each other so loudly, Eachan couldn’t understand what any of them said. Wanting to save his head, he sneaked out of the room and down the hall, preparing to leave the castle. He had the information he needed.

  Eachan rounded the corner and ran into a Dust. He raised his hand, ready to strike—he couldn’t risk having the Lorkon know he’d been there
—but something about the Dust’s behavior made him pause.

  The creature was nervous, upset. It was mumbling and groaning. Then, when it saw Eachan, it became more distressed and started tugging on Eachan’s shirt, speaking so quickly that Eachan couldn’t follow.

  He brushed the creature away and whispered, “What are you trying to tell me?”

  The Dust wrung its hands. “Sanso—Ember God. Needs help.”

  Eachan rolled his eyes. “Right. Why should I help him?” He pointed to the scars on his arms and neck. “He gave these to me.”

  The Dust didn’t seem to hear or care. “Come. Please, come.”

  Eachan sighed. After everything the Ember God had done to him . . . he didn’t know why he was about to agree. It had to be because of the Dust’s urgency—the fact that the small creature seemed to care. “Fine. Show me the way.”

  The Dust raced down the hall, with Eachan struggling to keep up. His knees and hips fought him the entire way, sending sharp, pulsating pains with every step.

  The creature finally stopped outside a door and pushed it open, leading Eachan into an library. Sanso lay on the floor, moaning. Deep red stained his clothes and the carpet around him.

  “What happened?” Eachan asked.

  “Lorkon . . .” Sanso whispered.

  He said something else, but Eachan couldn’t understand it. Sanso’s eyes shut and he stopped moving.

  “Is he dead?” Eachan asked.

  “Not dead, not dead,” the Dust said. “Does all time. Almost to dead.” He looked at Eachan. “Please help?”

  Eachan nodded. He couldn’t understand why a Dust would be so loyal to an Ember God, but he decided to go along with it. Besides, he couldn’t help but feel curious. Why would the Lorkon punish Sanso?

  Chapter Seventeen: Eye Control

  Azuriah himself came to get everyone ready to take care of Lirone. Jacob scrambled to a sitting position, bed covers all around him, when the Shiengol stepped into his room.

  “What are you doing?” Jacob rubbed his eyes, trying to get them to focus.

  “Get up,” Azuriah said.