The Path to the Sun (The Fallen Shadows Trilogy)

by Kimberli Bindschatel

  “Anyone with ears knows we’re here now,” Roh said. “We need to keep moving.”

  Kail slumped over onto her side. “I can't go on like this. We’ve been running all night and day.”

  Kiran hated to admit it, but he agreed with her. His back ached and his feet were blistered. He took off his boots and let his aching feet soak in the water.

  “The Great Father awaits,” said Deke. “As long as we have daylight, we travel.”

  “Fine. But which way? We need a plan,” said Roh.

  Deke looked Roh up and down. “There is no need for you to worry. The Great Father will guide us.”

  “And how will He do that?”

  Deke flashed a smile. “I will know. Just follow me.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “My father told me that I was to watch for the signs, that they would be clear.”

  Did he mention the scroll? Kiran wondered.

  “Your father?” Roh said. He stared at Deke, his face like stone.

  Deke stared right back. “We are pilgrims of the Great Father. We go where passion takes us.”

  Roh turned to Kiran. “So, we need a plan.”

  “That is our plan,” Deke hissed through clenched teeth.

  Deke and Roh glared at each other. Kiran looked at Roh, then back to Deke, wondering what was going on between them. He glanced at his pack. The scroll was in there. All the Elders must have known what wisdom it held, including Deke’s father. Watch for signs. Was that all it said?

  Deke sat down to put his boots back on. He squinted into the sun and gestured toward the brush. “We’ll head that way.”

  “Into the swamp?” Kiran said. “We’ll get lost in there.”

  Roh mumbled to Kiran, “We’re already lost.”

  Kiran stifled a grin. “If we follow the creek upstream, we can fill our waterskins and find a narrow spot to cross.”

  “No. We are to go this way. I’m sure of it. We will travel until nightfall and rest wherever we find ourselves.”

  Kail shook her head. “But it’s the full moon.”

  Bhau hoisted his pack to his back. “A warrior sleeps where he can, moonlight or no moonlight.” He turned to Jandon. “This is why girls aren’t warriors.”

  “This is not how things are supposed to be!” Kail wailed.

  Bhau put his hands on his hips. “Oh yeah, how are things supposed to be?”

  “We were supposed to be blessed before we left. We were supposed to receive guidance and preparation. And I am certainly not supposed to risk sleeping directly under the rays of the full moon!” Tears flowed down her rosy cheeks.

  Bhau snorted. “The Javinians will take more than the moon.”

  Kail burst with fury. “But our virtue!”

  Roh crouched next to Kail. “We’ll figure something out,” he whispered, then glanced back toward the woods, his eyebrows creased with concern. “But we have to get moving.”

  A raven called out a loud caw from deep in the woods. Kiran turned to Roh and saw concern in his dark eyes. Roh whispered to him, “I’d get my boots back on if I were you.”

  Kiran nodded in silent understanding. He slipped on his boots, then seeing that Roh had never taken off his pack, reached for his own.

  Sound erupted in the forest behind them. They all turned. Squawking ravens. Roh whispered, “We need to go. Now!”

  “Into the swamp!” urged Deke. He grabbed his pack and sprinted for the brush. Bhau was right behind him. Jandon jumped up, tried to get both his boots on at once, and fell back down. With one boot on and one in his hand, he grabbed his rucksack, and ran after Deke.

  Kiran looked to Roh in a moment of indecision, his heart pounding in his chest. Should they stay and fight, or flee? Roh hoisted Kail’s rucksack onto her back. “Follow Deke,” he said. “They can’t track us there. Go!” Kail plunged into the water, splashed across to the other side, and disappeared in the brush. Bria followed, dragging her pack as she ran.

  Kiran hesitated, still unsure.

  “There’s no honor in dying here,” Roh said and ran after them.

  Kiran nodded, slung his pack over one shoulder, and rushed across the marsh. Just as he entered the brush, the strap on his pack snapped and the weight dropped away. He stumbled forward, then spun around. A Javinian burst from the woods, headed straight for him, his spear held high.

  Kiran froze.

  The spear sliced through the air. Thwack. A crane let out a squawk and flopped over. The Javinian came to a halt, a big grin on his face. Then he saw Kiran. Their eyes met. They faced each other for a long moment, neither one moving. Then Kiran grabbed his pack and plunged into the tangle of branches.

  His loose rucksack bounced against his back and his empty waterskin slapped against his side. The others weren’t far ahead. He ran as fast as he could, his hands out in front of him, ducking and dodging as branches whipped him in the face. He closed his eyes and ran blind, following the sound of branches scraping across their packs.

  He tried to think, tried to sort out what happened. That Javinian was no warrior. He was a boy, about Kiran’s age. He wasn’t chasing them. He had no idea they were even there. But he had crossed the border. Why?

  The sandy bottom turned to a muck that oozed over the top of his boots and he was forced to slow his pace. Things wriggled and crawled through the weeds. Each step stirred the stagnant swamp water and the suffocating humidity became saturated with the stench of decay.

  Soon dusk descended and a dark cloud rimmed by the eerie yellow glow of twilight loomed overhead. Swarms of insects, from every direction, flew in his face, in his eyes and mouth. They got under his tunic and crawled across his chest, biting everywhere. He swatted at the air around his ears. Finally, he buried his face in his tunic, pulling it up over his nose with one hand while he swatted with the other.

  The marsh transformed into a dark, shadowy place with the murky smell of death and a monotonous hum. Lightning flashed through the clouds and thunder rolled over the hills.

  When finally he trudged upward, out of the wretched swamp, Jandon was sitting on the ground, putting on his other boot. Kiran looked back from where they had come. The bog stretched away before him, a vast, bottomland of tangled brush. Anything lost in there might never be found, he thought, wondering if the Javinian boy had followed.

  “You all right?” Roh asked.

  Kiran nodded.

  “There,” he said, pointing.

  Kiran could just make out a ledge jutting from the rocky hillside. From there, they’d be able to see the entire swamp and anyone who might be following them. Kiran nodded.

  Roh took off without waiting for agreement from anyone else.

  As they got to the ledge, clouds passed over the moon again and rain poured down in sheets as though the clouds had burst overhead. Bria lifted her arms to the sky and danced around, her head tilted upward, catching raindrops in her mouth. She took Kail by the hand and they twirled around together, the rain soaking them.

  Kiran leaned against the rock, his eyes fixed on Bria, imagining how it would feel to dance with her, to hold her in his arms. Lightning lit the sky and in a flash he saw the shape of her body where her wet tunic clung to her, revealing every curve. The vision was intoxicating and he felt the familiar stirring in his body. Thunder boomed again, as if threatening to drive the thoughts from his mind.

  Bhau nudged Kiran. “We’re being chased by Javinians and they’re frolicking in the rain.” He shook his head. “Girls.”

  Bhau was right; this was not the time to let their guard down. But he stood, frozen in place, transfixed. He was far from home, in a place he’d never been, chased by their feared enemy into an unknown land, and before him was the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on, dancing in the rain under the full moon. And all he could think about was her soft skin, her sweet lips.

  Roh popped his head out of an opening in the rock wall, holding a flaming torch in his hand. “What are you waiting for?”

&n
bsp; All at once, they hurried inside and stood huddled together, dripping on the dirt floor. They were out of the rain and hidden from view, but somehow Kiran didn’t feel any safer. The musty, dank cave was a tangled maze of cracks and crevices that harbored the unknown, hidden and waiting. The air was stale. Shadows flickered at the edges of the torchlight, as if the light alone kept the demons of the dark at bay.

  “What the blazes! Where have you brought us, Roh?” demanded Deke.

  From back in the deep recesses of the cave, Kiran heard scratching—the sound of claws on rock. Something scurried about. Kail heard it too. “What was that?” she asked.

  Everyone paused to listen.

  “Did you check for Mawghuls?” Jandon asked Roh.

  “Mawghuls!” Kail cried, clutching the pomander at her neck.

  “They live in holes in the ground or deep in caves like this one,” Jandon whispered. “They suck out all your blood, sap your strength, and then feed on your body while you’re still alive. They steal your soul!”

  Kiran shuddered; he knew the stories well. Everyone did. The village folk warned not to go out alone at night, to stay out of the forest. Mawghuls were demon spawn. If you came across one, you’d have no chance.

  Kail squeezed her eyes shut.

  Roh glared at Jandon. “Knock it off. You're scaring the girls.”

  “We’re not scared,” said Bria, putting her arm around Kail.

  “Look,” said Roh. He paced the perimeter of the cave, holding the torch to the walls. The interior was no larger than a sheep’s pen. The ceiling was high enough to stand near the front, but sloped down to the dry dirt floor in the rear. Water dripped from the ceiling, trickling down the walls in tiny rivulets. There was a stack of dry timber near the back.

  Roh circled around to face Jandon and held the torch in front of him. “See. No Mawghuls.”

  “Ee-yhew!” Jandon curled his nose in disgust. “What's that smell?”

  “It's a dung torch.”

  “What?”

  “How do you think it burn?”

  “Well, it stinks.”

  “Well, it works.” Roh shoved the torch toward him. It sizzled with the rush of air. “Here, go look for your monsters. If you find one, get some more dung.”

  In a rush of movement, a screeching black mass emerged from high in the back corner of the cave. A whirlwind of dark shapes darted around their heads in awkward, chaotic angles, the air crackling with the sound of their wings. Kail screamed, and in one fluid movement, the winged creatures swirled out of the cave.

  “Good heavens! What was that?” Bria said, breathless.

  “I got one,” hollered Bhau.

  One of the creatures lay on the floor, its wing bent. Jandon lowered the torch to examine its leathery wings and furry body. It wriggled and writhed, trying to take flight. Bhau stomped on it. “Nasty little beast,” he growled.

  “It didn’t harm us!” Bria cried, a glint of hatred in her eyes.

  “They won’t be back. They hunt at night,” Roh said to no one in particular.

  Bhau dug the tip of his boot under the dead creature and flipped it out of the cave. “Good riddance.”

  Deke dropped his pack with a thump. “We’ll hold up here for the night,” he said as he sat down and reclined against the rock wall.

  Roh stared at him for a long moment, as if he was about to say something, then shook his head. He grabbed a branch from the stack and snapped it at his knee.

  Bria set down her pack to help. She took the torch from Jandon and put it to the pile Roh was making. The dry tinder crackled and popped, sparking to life. The cave lit up with a warm glow of the fire and, somehow, it didn’t feel so intimidating.

  Kail paced next to the fire, scratching her arms. “I stink from that filthy swamp and I itch. There were bugs all over me!”

  “Are you girls going to stand there and complain or get dinner cooking?” Bhau said.

  Kail stared at him with a pouty face. Bria strode across the cave, hands on her hips, her face inches from his. “Let's get something straight. I am not your wife! Make your own dinner!”

  “Ouch! The cat has claws.” He smirked and nudged Jandon with his elbow as he lowered himself to the floor, stretching out next to him. To Kail, he said, “You'll help with my boots, won’t you?” He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to the floor. “What’s this?” He ran his dirty fingers across her pale neck to the pomander that hung there. “Trying to resist my charm?”

  Kiran leapt to his feet, clenching his fists. “Let her go! Just because we are out of the village doesn’t mean the Father isn’t watching!”

  “Simmer down,” Bhau growled, facing him down. “It’s no sin to rub my feet.” He pulled off a boot and pushed his bare foot toward her.

  “Oh my!” she cried, her face going pale.

  Bhau’s foot was covered with slimy black worms and dripping blood. “Bloodsuckers,” he grunted. “From the swamp.”

  Kiran looked down at his own feet and shuddered. That means… He fumbled with his bootlaces and tugged off his boots. Streams of blood trickled down his feet. His ankles were covered with the black slugs, latched onto his flesh, engorged with his blood. Stay calm, he told himself. He ripped one off. The fat, squishy worm burst in his hand and his own blood oozed down his fingers. His stomach squeezed and the taste of bile filled his mouth. Breathe, breathe, don’t throw up. You’ll never hear the end of it. “What do we do?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

  “Use your fingernail, like this,” Roh said. He had his boots off and was flicking worms from his feet one by one.

  Jandon whirled around, hopping from one foot to the other, tugging at one on his ankle. As he yanked, it stretched, but wouldn’t let loose. “Get off me!” he wailed.

  “Or salt,” Roh said. “Anyone have any salt?”

  “I do, I do,” said Kiran. He rubbed the blood from his hands on the dirt floor and then fumbled through his pack for the pouch of salt. He hesitated. Aldwyn had said it was for trade. He looked at his foot and his stomach did a flip. He ripped the pouch open and sprinkled some on his ankles, then watched with a mix of horror and relief as the worms wriggled and writhed, then shrank and fell off. His stomach began to settle. A little salt was all it took.

  Jandon stuck his foot in Kiran’s face. “Get them off, get them off!” he screamed, his eyes white.

  “Stand still then,” Kiran told him, laughing in spite of himself.

  “It’s not funny! Get them off! Get them off!”

  “Actually, it is.” Kiran grabbed Jandon by the calf and shook some salt on his foot, then the other. Jandon started to calm then; his breathing slowed as he exhaled in several loud huffs.

  Roh leaned over to inspect the worms with a dramatic gesture. “We’re saved. Kiran slayed the monsters.”

  Jandon smirked. “Very funny.”

  Kiran passed the pouch to Bria who was calmly checking her toes.

  Kail lay curled up on the floor, clutching her pomander in her tiny hand, sobbing. Kiran wished there was something he could do to comfort her. She was right. This was miserable. The bloodsuckers had gotten to him—and the bugs, and the heat, and the mud.

  Bria took Kail’s boots and her own to shake them outside the cave. Kiran tucked the pouch of salt back in his pack and followed her out.

  Heavy clouds had rolled in. It was too dark now to see anything but the silhouettes of the treetops, tinged by the muted light of the moon.

  “Maybe a cave isn’t the best place to hide,” Bria whispered. “If they find us, we’ll be trapped, with nowhere to go.”

  A stroke of lightning split across the heavens. Thunder clapped with a crackling roar, and the hush left behind spoke of unease, as if the Great Father were sending an ominous message.

  Chapter 6

  They retreated to the shelter of the cave. He propped his boots against the wall next to the fire to dry and noticed what appeared to be a drawing scribbled there. “Hey, Roh, what do you make of this
?”

  Roh took a stick from the fire and held it to the wall. “I'm not sure.”

  “Looks like an animal. Don’t you think? Look, it has pointy ears and big owl eyes.”

  “It looks like a Mawghul!” Jandon exclaimed, looking over Kiran’s shoulder. “I told you. Black, scaly beings with big, round bulging eyes that eat people whole—in one gulp.”

  “Look, there’re more, way up.” Bria pointed to the ceiling.

  “It’s just the work of savages,” Deke grumbled.

  “What do you see?” Roh shouted over the patter of rain pounding the ground outside.

  “Well, there's more than one drawing. First, there is a man and an animal in the forest. Then a huge mouth, I think. It looks like teeth. Then, in the next scene, the animal is gone and the mouth is closed. Like the forest swallowed him.”

  “Mawghuls, I knew it!” Jandon said. He paced in a circle, biting his lip. “We’re doomed. We should go back.”

  Roh turned to Jandon, his eyes hard as stone. “There is no turning back.”

  His words echoed through the cave, leaving a pulsing silence in their wake.

  Deke spoke first, “Well, only one of us is going back anyway.”

  Kiran turned to Deke. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Seventh Elder, you know, the prophecy.” He shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, of course you don't.”

  The prophecy? Where had he heard that before? Kiran set his jaw and glared at Deke. He was tired of being dismissed. “Everyone knows the Seventh Elder will come.”

  Bria stepped in. “But we don’t know when. According to the prophecy, the Voice of the Father will choose. Do you understand? If it’s true, one of us will be the Seventh Elder.”

  “What do you mean? If it’s true?” Kiran asked her.

  “People say it was in the scroll that went missing during the Time of Dissention. My father’s not so sure.”

  “Of course it’s true,” Deke said. “What does your father know? He’s not an Elder.”

  Kiran’s eyes went to his pack and the scroll he harbored there.

  “We do not question the ways of the Great Father. By the Script, He guides us. We follow.”