The Path to the Sun (The Fallen Shadows Trilogy)

by Kimberli Bindschatel

  “Ah, Deke. He does not know that humility is the virtue most revered. Do not dwell on his views. You would be wise to be wary of the one who claims the sole source of truth. I do not believe it is a sin, as you say, to question. It is most honorable to seek understanding.” Manu-amatu looked him directly in the eye. “So, young man, you dream of being an elder, like Aldwyn. Yet you struggle with a great question, yes?”

  Unsure of how to respond, Kiran thought about this for a long moment. “I want… I want to understand…” He stopped, frustrated. “I can’t see my destiny.”

  “Ah. You are haunted by the shadow of a bird.”

  “What? A bird? No. I…It’s just that there is so much I don’t understand.” Kiran was starting to feel exhausted as he always did in conversations with Aldwyn, trying to sort out the multitude of things too abstract to grab hold. He needed time to take it all in, to let it settle. If only it wasn’t so complicated. “I want to know why I’m here. My purpose.”

  “We do not have the power to draw aside the veil of unborn time. It is all part of the Great Mystery. You follow Father Sun, the great light, to understand the light that is within. Take this path, wherever it may lead you, in this world or another. For you, it is the only path there is.”

  Kiran nodded, unsure.

  “Do not let fear cast a shadow in your mind. To endure, to stay on the path, and care for your brothers, as you would yourself, this is what matters most.”

  “You’re right. If only my faith was stronger, Bhau would not have died. We were supposed to stay together. Aldwyn said that together the Great Father would watch over us. Together we would have been safe from the Mawghul.”

  Manu-amatu put his hand on Kiran’s shoulder, just as Aldwyn had always done, and Kiran felt a sense of comfort in the gesture, as though, in a way, Aldwyn were here with him. “The world is not to be walked in alone, this is true. Tomorrow, at the rise of the sun, we shall walk together. There is something you need to see.”

  That evening, the first night of the new moon, the Lendhi clan bustled about with new exuberance and a feeling of merriment about them. Some kind of celebration was to take place. Torches were placed, encircling the camp. The women prepared elaborate dishes.

  Back home, the villagers would be preparing for the Harvest Festival, laying out a banquet of roasted mutton, cabbage, potatoes and fresh cider. Kiran’s mouth began to water just thinking about it. Late in the evening, the Goshtar Goat would arrive with gifts for all the little children, and at midnight, the Floating Leaf ceremony would take place, his favorite part of the holiday celebration. Leaf-shaped boats carrying lit candles were set afloat on the bay, each carrying a wish from a villager. Every year, for as long as he could remember, he had made the same wish.

  “Isn’t she stunning?” Jandon whispered to Kiran, nodding toward a young maiden of the clan with eyes the color of honey. Kiran had already noticed Jandon had taken a liking to her. Jandon found reasons to follow her, offering to help her carry water, to set her tent. She smiled demurely at him and he flirted back.

  Kiran hesitated before he said, “Yes, she is beautiful.”

  “They call her Takhura.”

  “I know.”

  Jandon turned to face him. “But what?”

  “Well, Jandon, we’ll only be with the Lendhi for a short time.”

  “Well, I’m not going to marry her!” He looked around and leaned over to whisper, “I know she’s not a Toran. I just like her, that’s all. The Lendhi, well, they’re not so bad. Don’t you think?”

  Kiran smiled at his old friend. “Yes, I like them, too.”

  “Hey, listen,” Jandon said. “Back in the cave…” He paused. “Well, I’m sorry.”

  Before Kiran could reply, Bria and Kail plopped down beside them with a basket of food.

  Takhura cautiously approached, her eyes searching for someone. Kiran guessed whom. “He’s with the children,” he said. Lately, Deke had taken to eating with the children, never letting up with his attempt to convert them.

  She smiled and sat down next to Jandon, offering him a sweet bread and a small leather pouch. He accepted the gifts readily, taking a bite of the bread. As he examined the pouch, his expression turned to one of confusion. Takhura blushed, giggling. There was a moment of awkward silence, as none of the Torans were quite sure what humor they had missed, especially Jandon. He stopped chewing, his eyes moving from Kiran to Takhura, searching for an explanation.

  “For dance,” Takhura said, nodding with an impish smile, then shyly looked away. She pointed to Kail’s pomander. “Is beautiful.”

  “Thank you. It’s my amulet. The scent is wonderful. Here, smell.” She leaned toward Takhura and lifted the pomander to her nose, shaking it to release the fragrance.

  Takhura inhaled and closed her eyes, sniffing, as if trying to identify it. “Ah, scent there river.”

  “The scent of the river?”

  “Yes, river.” She turned back to Jandon and dropped her eyes. “Is season together love.”

  “The season of love?” The clan was not shy with their affections. Without inhibition, they would kiss like lovers in front of others, an activity that made Kiran both uncomfortable and curious. Was it condoned now in this season of love she referred to?

  “Today perfect balance. Sun return. Now woman time. Go river, flowers bloom, seed flows. There Sun stand still.” She looked at Jandon and grinned. “Then wedding.”

  Jandon choked on the bread.

  “Are you all right?” asked Kail. Jandon nodded, coughing, his face red.

  “Wedding?” Kiran asked.

  Takhura clasped her hands together. “Bind clans.”

  “So, the celebration tonight is for perfect balance, the return of the Sun? And now you enter the time of women? Is that it? I don’t think I understand.”

  Takhura seemed flattered that Kiran was interested and she was eager to explain. “Man woman equal. Sun draws one, then other. Time equal, together in love.” She touched her index fingers together. “You know, yes?”

  Did she mean sex? Kiran opened his mouth to ask another question and Jandon elbowed him in the side, glaring. But she probably knows about the staff. And the witch. He would have to try to talk to her again.

  The drumming started. Takhura took Jandon by the hand and they twirled around the fire, following a square pattern. At each corner they stopped and shook seeds from the pouch Takhura had given him, tossing them into the wind. After they made several rotations, they left the dancing square and returned to Kiran and Bria, arm in arm.

  “We’re going for a walk,” Jandon told Kiran with a quick wink. Bria looked to Kiran with a raised eyebrow. Village custom required a chaperone.

  Kiran took her hand and said to Jandon, “Bria and I will join you.”

  Takhura led them to a small rise where the four of them sat in the grass, looking back at the camp with only the light of the stars.

  “Tell me your home,” Takhura said. “You live by sea. You know Irichoi?”

  “Irichoi?” Jandon asked.

  “Yes, First Ones, live in sea. Swim same fish, talk same us.”

  Jandon laughed. “No, I don’t know any sea creatures that talk. But we don’t go out on the sea. It is forbidden.”

  “Forbidden? What mean, forbidden?”

  “Forbidden. You know, we are not allowed.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Spirits warn?”

  “Sure, whatever, I don’t know.” He took her hand. “You are so beautiful.”

  She giggled and lowered her brown eyes. He leaned over and kissed her.

  Kiran whispered to Bria, “C’mon, I want to talk to you.”

  “But—”

  “Just come with me, please.” He held his hand out to her.

  She looked at Jandon and Takhura, now entwined in a passionate kiss. “All right.” She reached for his hand. Once out of earshot, she said, “Kiran, I’m worried that Jandon is being led astray.”

  “I think Jandon is the
one doing the leading,” he said with a laugh.

  “That’s not what I mean,” she said, her voice stern. “She does not live by the Way.”

  “I know their ways are different. But… They’re just kissing.”

  “Just kissing!”

  Kiran turned to face her. He took her hand in his and they faced each other under the twinkling stars, his eyes holding hers.

  “It’s not proper,” she whispered.

  “The Lendhi don’t think kissing is wrong,” he said, catching his breath. He trembled from the feel of her hand in his and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her right now.

  “Well, yes. I’ve noticed. But Kiran—”

  “I know. They don’t live by the Way. But Bria, maybe. Maybe the Elders…” He was still sorting it out in his own mind. But right now, reason didn’t matter. He just wanted to kiss her.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  The new moon shed little light, but he knew her face, knew every line, every curve. He pulled her closer. “What if the Elders aren’t right about everything? In all the scrolls I’ve read, I never once saw any mention of kissing being a sin. Nowhere.”

  He leaned toward her, his lips inches from hers. He could feel her hot breath on him and for a long moment he held her gaze, his heart racing. She turned away.

  “Listen to me,” he said. “Back home, if we slept in a cave or a tent together, we’d be banished. But we’ve had to out here, for our safety. How could anyone say the rules are absolute?” She exhaled and he felt her relax. He could see the change in her eyes. “Out here, we have to decide. For ourselves.” He pulled her to him once more. “What matters is what you and I believe, don’t you see?” He kissed her then, full on the mouth, and her lips parted, letting him, her tongue responding to his, soft and hungry. A warm gust of euphoria swept over him.

  He reached his hand around her back, pulling her closer, and she broke away, pushing against his chest. “Kiran, I can’t,” she cried and turned and ran from him. He stared after her in disbelief as she disappeared in the darkness. He slumped to the ground and slammed his fist into the hard dirt.

  When Kiran wandered back into camp, the joyous, uninhibited laughter of young children drew his attention. He found the whole lot of them by the fire, listening with delight to Manu-amatu’s stories. The old man held the children rapt, gesticulating dramatically with his hands.

  Once the fire burned down to smoldering embers and the young babes had fallen asleep in their mothers’ arms, Kiran asked him to tell him the stories in his language. Manu-amatu was delighted and started again, telling him of the beginning of time—a world filled with water and floods, spirits and demons, Father Sun and Island Mother. It was frightening and fascinating and enlightening. His whole life, Kiran had been told that the Great Father made Wiros to provide a home for His children. But how it actually happened, no one knew. He was sure he’d never read about it in any of the scrolls. Manu-amatu seemed to know how it had all happened.

  Seek wisdom from all whom you meet, Aldwyn had said.

  Kiran could hardly sit still for his excitement. He had learned something that would make Aldwyn proud.

  At dawn, as Manu-amatu had promised, they walked together across the plain and into a small patch of forest. The old man wandered aimlessly it seemed, as Kiran patiently followed, until finally he stopped next to a pile of sticks, branches, and leaves. He kicked them away to reveal a hole in the ground. Memories came rushing back and the terror of that night rose in Kiran once again—Kail screaming, Jandon babbling incoherently, the wild dogs circling. “Come here, son,” Manu-amatu said.

  Kiran shook his head.

  “There is nothing to fear,” he said and took Kiran by the shoulder, directing him to the edge of the hole. Short spears jutted from the bottom of the rocky pit, purposefully placed there by someone. Kiran stared in disbelief. He turned to Manu-amatu. “But why? For what?”

  “Hunters drive the beasts along this path where they fall in.”

  “It’s a…a hunter’s trap?”

  Manu-amatu nodded.

  “There is no demon?” he half asked, knowing the truth.

  “The demon was in your mind.”

  Kiran followed Manu-amatu back to camp, unaware of one step. It can’t be. Bhau was killed by a Mawghul—a real demon! Jandon said he saw it. Didn’t he? But he knew the truth. He had never seen the Mawghul with his own eyes.

  Now he knew better. There was no such thing. Mawghuls weren’t real. It was a made-up tale, conceived out of fear, a figment of a narrow-minded imagination. Bewildered, he could not bring himself to look eastward. He had always been told of Mawghuls, since he was a child. Aldwyn had told him specifically to beware. What other falsehoods had he been led to believe? What else was Aldwyn wrong about?

  As if a window opened and let in the light, he felt a deep, profound respect for the Lendhi and an overwhelming remorse for having thought of them as savages. What he was thinking was heresy, he knew. The Great Father would condemn such deviation from the Way, but he couldn’t stop himself. He felt like crying for the turmoil in his heart.

  He had to tell the others.

  When he arrived back in camp, he went straight to their tent. The others were all there when he poked his head inside the flap. “I have to tell you—”

  “We need to talk to you,” said Deke.

  “You aren’t going to believe—”

  “It’s important,” said Kail, her expression solemn.

  He looked to Roh who shrugged. Kiran sat down. “What’s wrong?”

  With a voice of authority, Deke said, “You have strayed from the Way.”

  “What?” He looked to Jandon, who would not meet his gaze. “What are you talking about?” Had Jandon told them about the witch? Did they know he had been under her spell?

  Kail said, “We know you’ve been with that heathen, Manu-amatu.”

  “Yes, he just showed me—”

  Deke interrupted. “You’ve put all of us at risk by consorting with him.”

  Kiran clamped his teeth together. “Jandon, tell them.” He waited for Jandon to make eye contact. “You have been walking without pain and the swelling is gone, right?” Jandon shrugged. “He cured your ankle.”

  “We know.” Deke leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “We think he’s a witch.”

  “A witch?” Kiran glared at Jandon.

  “He mixes potions and conjures demons. He has the entire clan under his spell.”

  Kiran laughed. “No, you don’t understand—”

  “Stay away from him,” Deke commanded. He stood. “It is the will of the Father,” he said and left the tent.

  Bria slid over beside Kiran and whispered to him, “I thought you were smarter than this. We have to be careful. Anyone could corrupt our minds.”

  Her words cut through his heart. Yeah, anyone could corrupt our minds, he thought. Like teaching us to believe in Mawghuls.

  Jandon waited for the others to leave the tent before he spoke. “I didn’t tell Deke about the witch, I swear. He figured it out on his own. Maybe he is right, maybe he isn’t. Can’t you let it be, just this once? What’s so interesting about Manu-amatu anyway?”

  “Jandon, listen to me. What if the Lendhi know things we don’t and we’re just too arrogant to see?”

  “What do you mean? They don’t even know of the Great Father,” said Jandon, shaking his head.

  “But what if they have—” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Listen. I asked Manu-amatu about the magic staff. He said it’s like a door, a connection to the spirit world. When he goes through, he can speak with spirits.” As soon as he said the words out loud, the idea started to take shape and form. “What if we didn’t have to travel to the end of the world?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Aldwyn said something about being disconnected. What if…” He took a deep breath. “What if we could speak to the Voice of the Father with the staff the way Manu-amatu does? We could
save the village right now and go home.”

  “I don’t know. Are you sure?”

  Kiran sat back. He’d never been so sure of anything. “I think it’s what we’re supposed to do.”

  Jandon got up to leave, shaking the stiffness from his ankle. “I know one thing for sure. You think too much.”

  Chapter 13

  The Lendhi were on the move again. Kiran wandered a distance from the group on his own. He needed his own space. His only companion was one of the dogs, shaggy brown with black feet, running alongside him. When the desire struck, he’d flop on his back in front of Kiran, his big brown eyes pleading for attention. “At least someone wants to be with me,” he said, stopping to rub the dog’s belly.

  In the afternoon of the third day, Kiran noticed Jandon walking toward him. He didn’t want to talk to him; he didn’t want to talk to any of them. “He’s supposed to be my friend. Why does he always side with Deke?” he said to the dog. “He could learn a lot from you.”

  “I have something to show you,” Jandon said as he approached, his hands in his pockets.

  “What?”

  “Not here. Tonight. After dark.”

  “Fine,” Kiran said, keeping his eyes forward.

  “Listen, Kiran…”

  Kiran knew what Jandon was going to say. He was always trying to get him to see Deke’s side of things. Today, he wasn’t going to tolerate it. “You know what, Jandon? I’ve heard all the tales and always imagined savage heathens to be cruel and evil. I thought that of the Lendhi at first. But it’s not true. Manu-amatu is kind and smart and insightful. He knows things. And I can’t believe you deny it. Especially after he healed your ankle.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re not denying it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say something then?”

  Jandon shrugged. “You know how Deke is.”

  Yeah, and you follow him anyway. “Well, what about Bria? What did he say to her? Why did she side with him?”