He couldn’t believe he had sat there and let it happen.
But every time he opened his mouth to say this, he stopped. Now was too late. Taking the blame now would only sound like a plea for sympathy. And that would only make her despise him more.
He hadn’t jumped because he didn’t think quickly enough.
He couldn’t take the blame because he didn’t have the guts.
“Caer,” he said.
“Eref, I’m so sorry for what I said just now. I’m angry with myself. I don’t know if you know how it feels to hurt a friend, but it’s—” She broke off to clear her throat. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”
Eref hesitated and finally said, “I do know how it feels.”
“What?”
“I let somebody down back home. I broke a promise.”
“Yeah?” She didn’t sound impressed. “What happened when you broke your promise?”
Eref listened to the splashing of the water for a moment. He thought back to that day, years ago, when he’d sworn to save Balor from the Eighteener Entrance. There was no Balor anymore now. Not the real Balor. “He died.”
Caer made a soft sound as she drew in a breath. Then she spoke, a little more gently. “Who was he?”
“My best friend.”
Caer fell into another thoughtful silence. She didn’t cry this time, but her tension remained. Eref’s heart sank lower than ever now that he’d spoken about Balor. He knew exactly what Caer must be feeling.
Before them, the river ran excitedly down its path, tickling their legs with water, oblivious to their suffering.
Eref felt like an open wound. All his troubles lay at the front of his mind, stretched out like a body on an examining table. The dirtiest, scariest parts of his own soul were there for him to see.
Coward. Liar. Deserter.
Insensitive. Selfish. Cursed.
Someone had shouted “Devil” at him the day of the stoning. Tonight, he felt he was even worse.
“I wish we could leave this place,” Eref said. “I wish there were somewhere we could feel really safe. We could rescue Vul and just head out of here. No stonings, no burnings, no Eighteener Entrance.” He kicked at the root by his feet and listened to the hollow sound.
For a few seconds, Eref had the distinct feeling that Caer was staring at him. It made him uncomfortable, so he pretended to still be lost in thought.
“Vul and I were in the Gestator together,” Caer said suddenly. “Do you have one in Light World?”
“What’s the Gestator?”
“The place where you’re born. They create children there and bring them up in groups with special nannies. Did you have something like that?”
“The Raising. Balor and I were in a group together, too. We were born in the same year. Did they group you that way?”
“Yes, by the year you were created. Vul was made about two days before me, but it was the same year, so we were together.”
“Yeah. It’s the same in my world.”
Caer sat quietly for a second, as if thinking through her next comment, and then blurted out, “One day our nanny disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“They replaced her. Did anyone ever have to replace your nanny?”
“No,” he said. “We had the same shepherd at the Raising until we were ten. Then they released us for personal development at the Learning.”
“It’s the same for us,” she said. “But when we were eight, our nanny stopped coming.”
“Why?”
Caer sat in silence another few seconds before she answered. Eref waited, his own thoughts fixed on a simpler time when he and Balor had been friends and there had been no trials, no stonings, no angry mobs for them to worry about.
“I’m not sure,” Caer finally answered. “I think she knew something.”
“Knew something?”
“About our world. Maybe about both of our worlds. Didn’t you hear strange stories from the other kids when your nanny was away?”
“Yeah. Stuff about Dark World being a land of evil, bloodthirsty monsters.”
Caer gave a half-hearted laugh before her tone went back to its sad gravity. “Well, in the Gestator we told each other stories about people who could escape Dark World.”
“Escape? They came to Light World?”
“Not to Light World,” she said. “They went somewhere else. We didn’t really know. It was an old legend the kids passed down. Some said it was where you went when you died. Others thought it was probably a cave off in the far corner of Dark World.” Caer paused. “Nobody told stories like that in your nursery?”
Eref thought back. “I remember something one of the kids said at the Learning one day. After we had left the Raising. Balor and I were about eleven.”
“What was it?”
“It was during Lessons of the Past. The instructor was going over Light World history—telling us how our light has always shone and kept the people safe—and one of the kids in class….” Eref rubbed his forehead. “What was his name? I think it was Rinelest. He said something really strange.”
“What did he say?”
“I remember it because of what happened to him later. After that, everyone wanted to analyze what he’d been doing, so we talked about it for days and days. Right when the instructor mentioned keeping the people safe, Rinelest raised his hand and said, ‘Safe, instructor? Safe in Light World, or safe in the Safety?’”
Caer stiffened next to him. “He said the Safety?”
“Yeah, and when the teacher ignored him, Rinelest said, ‘I’ve heard about the Safety, instructor. Why won’t you teach us that? Why can’t we know how to escape Light World?’”
“He knew about the Safety!”
“No,” Eref said. “Rinelest was just crazy. They found him hanging from a tree the next day, wearing a blindfold.”
Caer gasped. “Someone killed him?”
“He killed himself. He’d always been a weird kid. After that, all the instructors told us we should look forward to the Eighteener Entrance, when we could finally be rid of dangerous dreams and ambitions like the ones that got to Rinelest.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Caer said.
“Of what?”
“I wouldn’t be so sure your friend killed himself.”
“He wasn’t my friend. Just a kid at the Learning.”
“Either way,” Caer said. “I think someone may have wanted to shut him up and make an example of him.”
Eref thought about this for a moment. “I can see that. Light People can get pretty intense. But why would that story upset them in particular?”
She paused. “I think because the Safety is real.”
He had to be sure he’d heard her properly. “Real? What do you mean?”
“Listen,” Caer said earnestly. “Our nanny at the Gestator used to catch us telling stories. We weren’t supposed to, but she’d let us do it anyway. She was the nicest person—very young and pretty. Everyone adored her.
“One day, Vul and I were arguing about the Eighteener Entrance. Vul was upset because she would have to go before me, and she didn’t want us to do anything apart. I kept insisting it wasn’t a big deal and they’d probably just let me do mine early with her.”
Caer took a deep, forlorn breath. “We didn’t know much back then. We were only eight.”
Eref thought back to the day Balor had cried about nearly the same thing. His stomach twisted at the memory.
“Our nanny overheard us as we started to yell at each other. Vul—you know how she can be—well, said she didn’t want me to come with her to the Eighteener Entrance anyway. She said I was too stupid to know what was going to happen. She said we’d forget each other after that and never be friends again. Of course, that made me cry. So the nanny came to calm us down.
“But instead of telling us not to fight, she pulled up a chair and put us in her lap for a story.
“‘Let me tell you two about the Safety,’ she said. I can’
t remember her exact words, but when she told us the story, it was so mysterious and exciting.”
“What did she say?”
“It was something about how the Safety is the place in between Light and Dark worlds, where Light People and Dark People can live together in harmony. Apparently it’s a beautiful place filled with a harmless, glowing light that even the most sensitive Dark Person can see without trouble.”
Caer paused, and Eref thought of the light that had appeared when they held hands.
She went on, “Long ago, our nanny told us, a few evil people captured the last remaining piece of real magic and controlled it to feed their greed. Light and Dark people had to exist in separate worlds and live shortened lives. But, she said, eventually greed will fail. The magic will come back to save its people, and everyone will return to the Safety.”
Eref listened to Caer’s story in disbelief. No one in Light World would have dared make up something like that for fear of execution.
Caer didn’t say anything for a moment, and then she added, “Our nanny told us we should never forget that story as long as we lived. She said when we were sad, we should think of the magic that would save us all someday.”
“I wonder how Rinelest heard about the Safety,” Eref said.
“Who knows,” Caer said. “Legends have a way of surviving even when people try to stamp them out. But I don’t think this was just a story.”
“Why not?”
“Because the next day, our nanny didn’t come back to the Gestator. We had someone new. And nobody would tell us where our old nanny had gone.”
“Was she arrested?”
“I don’t think so. They never took her to the Pyre or held a trial or anything. She was just…gone.”
“Maybe she was crazy, too,” Eref said. “What if that’s all it was? They just didn’t want someone like that taking care of children.”
“I don’t think so. Like you pointed out, it’s odd that someone from Light World and someone from Dark World would both know the same story.”
That was true, Eref thought. But something didn’t make sense.
“And both Rinelest and my nanny were silenced after mentioning the Safety,” Caer added.
“But, Caer,” Eref said, wishing he didn’t have to point this out. “I fell from Light World to Dark World. I fell straight through. There’s nothing in between. It’s just a big, empty space.”
“Shh!” Caer hissed. “What was that?”
Eref froze. He’d heard it, too. Something moved in the bushes to their left. He whispered, “Do you see someone—”
“You there!” Caer jumped up with a start and shouted, “Don’t come any closer!”
Chapter Nine
Contact
Balor woke up on the floor of a Dark World home, with footsteps marching by outside the window. His head throbbed, and he tried to remember what had happened.
He felt around at his side for his dark-vision glasses, but when he found them and put them on, the room looked unfamiliar. Chairs lay overturned, cans of food rolled on the mucky floor, and—Balor sat up with a jerk. He had blood on his mouth. Not just on his mouth, he realized as he swallowed. It was in his mouth.
Inch by inch, Balor stood and reached for the kitchen counter to steady himself. He didn’t have time to think. The footsteps outside had stopped. Someone whispered something outside the door.
He grabbed his glasses, dashed across the apartment, slammed his leg against a table, and hurled himself out of the back door just as the front door swung open.
Outside in the shadowy jungle of Dark World, Balor felt pretty sure he’d escaped undetected. But his memory remained foggy.
What had happened in there?
Something pinched at the back of his neck, and Balor reached around to scratch. He thought for a moment that he felt something in his skin, a scab, or a little piece of metal, but then, automatically, the thought left his mind, and images of Eref flooded in.
Eref. The one who had betrayed them all and escaped to Dark World. Eref. The traitor who had publicly pegged Balor as a traitor himself.
Eref. The man he’d come to kill.
Rage flooded his veins. He clenched his fists. All remorse and confusion vanished, and he strode forward, ignoring the pain in his leg, in search of his prey.
Dark World covered him like a shroud. It was suffocating. From the humidity that made each breath slow and laborious, to the flying insects of all colors and shapes that gathered by the blood trickling down his calf, Balor loathed this place.
He didn’t know the criminal Eref personally—at least, he didn’t think he did…it was difficult to remember sometimes—but he couldn’t imagine how any Light Person could feel comfortable in such a sickening jungle.
Perhaps Eref hadn’t created that hole in the ground after all. It didn’t make sense for someone to willingly drop down to Dark World, where he would be hunted and miserable. Balor had dropped down himself only as a last resort. Sometimes he almost thought he would have rather died.
The back of his neck pinched again. He had to find Eref. He wanted to break each of his bones. To watch him die in pain.
Balor staggered around in brush, peering through his glasses. He turned left, then right, then left again. There was no telling which direction he faced anymore. Everything was backward here.
His head had started to ache again, and the gash in his injured leg still oozed blood. He felt weaker with every hour that passed. This world was poison.
Off to his left, he detected the sound of running water. The scent of moisture—mud, bugs, fish, and plants—filled his nostrils and made his stomach twist.
He leaned over, gagging.
From this angle, Balor got a closer look at the jagged wound in his calf from that poorly placed living room table. Dirt had caked his skin, and bugs ventured ever closer to the smell of blood. His leg needed washing.
He stood back up and stumbled toward the sound of the river. It was several yards off to his left, and he pressed through more thick brush to get there.
When he got so close he could just make out the edge of the river over the plants, Balor realized he wasn’t alone. Two people were talking nearby under an enormous tree with roots that twisted around each other. The roots lifted so high out of the ground at places that Balor couldn’t see the people’s faces.
He took a quick survey of the area and found two suitable hiding spots. The safer one was in the roots of a smaller, neighboring tree a few yards away. The best spot to take the couple by surprise was in the leaves of a much closer, thick, green bush.
Balor chose to play it safe. He hid in the roots of the tree and, letting the water wash his leg, listened to the people talk.
The male voice spoke first. “Was she arrested?”
“I don’t think so,” the female answered. “They never took her to the Pyre or held a trial or anything. She was just…gone.”
“Maybe she was crazy, too. What if that’s all it was? They just didn’t want someone like that taking care of children.”
The pain in Balor’s leg faded as water cleaned his wound. But his headache only increased. Something about this conversation bothered him. The man’s voice sounded so familiar….
“I don’t think so. Like you pointed out, it’s odd that someone from Light World and someone from Dark World would both know the same story.”
Balor leaned forward and tried to peer beyond the roots, but he still couldn’t see their faces. Why would they be talking about Light World?
“And both Rinelest and my nanny were silenced in one way or another after mentioning the Safety,” the female said.
The back of his neck burned. Something was wrong. Balor had the strangest feeling he should understand this conversation better than he did.
“But, Caer, I fell from Light World to Dark World. I fell straight through. There’s nothing there. It’s just a big, empty space.”
Balor’s jaw fell open. This wasn’t a conversation be
tween two Dark People. This was a Dark Person and a Light Person— this was Caer and Eref.
But before he could leap out to attack, the Dark Person made a sudden, frightened sound. “Shh! What was that?”
Balor froze. He’d heard it, too. Someone had moved in the bushes.
Eref whispered something unintelligible before the Dark Person stood up suddenly and shouted, “Don’t come any closer!”
Chapter Ten
The Jungle
“I’m not here to hurt you.”
The words came from an elderly man who stood facing Caer and Eref. Balor craned his neck to see. Now that all three of the other people were standing, he could see them clearly through his glasses.
Caer was short for a Light Person, but average height for a Dark Person, based on what he’d seen of the soldiers at the Pyre. She wore an ugly, tattered dress that looked like it had once been purple. Now it hung stained and wrinkled on her chalky white body and made her look like a beggar. Her arms and legs were too skinny, but then, everyone in Dark World seemed underfed to Balor. They were a race of unattractive people.
In Light World, the people would have viewed her as a horrible freak of nature. She wouldn’t have lived a day. But here…. Balor looked a little longer. Something in the structure of her face and body told him she might be considered beautiful in Dark World. Even in her dirty clothes and skinny frame.
“I said stay away!” she shouted. Her voice trembled, and her black eyes expressed fear, like a hunted animal at the edge of a cliff, out of options. Balor could hardly believe this cowardly Dark Person had dared to harbor a Light Person in her home.
Behind Caer stood the fugitive himself. Balor struggled to resist the temptation to rush forward and tear the traitor’s eyes from his head. He needed patience to discover how this interaction played out. Until he knew who the third person was, he could not be sure an attack would be wise.
Eref stood still, staring into the distance, though he obviously saw nothing. With no dark-vision glasses, Balor knew Eref was utterly blind. Had he relied on this Dark Person every step of the way? She had apparently supplied him with something to wear. A brown tunic too small for his body covered Eref’s chest, and ripped pants stopped just below his knees.
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