Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light by Tracy A. Akers

see Sheireadan amongst the crowd inside the
Pavilion and wondered if the boy was still lurking about. But he
shook the thought from his mind. What could possibly happen? There
were people everywhere.
    “Let us begin with an entreaty to the Maker,”
Eileis said. The crowd bowed their heads and folded their hands.
“Our most illustrious Daghadar, Maker of all things, Source of all
life, Foundation of all knowledge, please grant us on this festival
day, hope for a future.”
    Members of the crowd glanced at one another.
“What did she mean by that?” whispers could be heard asking.
    She continued without pause. “Open our minds
to the truth so that we may follow in the path you have in store
for us. Lift the blindness from our eyes, the ignorance from our
minds, and the hatred from our hearts. We have feared the fire and
hidden ourselves in darkness for too long. Please show us the light
so that we may continue in your grace.” She looked up from her
folded hands and scanned the room. No one said a word.
    Her eyes rested on Dayn for a moment, not
long enough for anyone else to notice, but long enough for him to.
She held his gaze with such intensity, that it quickly became clear
that it was for him that she had been searching. He replayed the
strange words of her prayer in his mind, wondering what in the
world they had to do with him. His mind raced back, back to the
last time he had seen the Spirit Keeper, that night almost a year
ago. She had been a part of it, the conversation that had revealed
the truth to him. He had managed to push Eileis to the back of his
mind since then, funneling all his resentments in the direction of
his father instead. But now she was looking at him in almost secret
communication, and the memory of her role in it swept over him like
ice water.
    He stared at the Spirit Keeper as though
under her spell. She looked like a bent silhouette against the huge
background of fluttering drapes that enshrouded her tiny frame. Her
mouth was moving, yet he could hear no sound other than a droning
noise like that of a great swarm of bees. The throne-like chairs,
floral bouquets, and festive banners decorating the stage began to
blur into a whirling spiral. The rest of the room and everyone in
it became nonexistent. Dayn was no longer where he was.
    The room grew dark and eerily quiet. Dayn’s
common sense told him he was still standing in the Pavilion, but
his mind said he was at his bedroom window, its shutters open to
the night, the cold air playing at his neck. He pulled the blanket
around his shoulders and leaned his elbows upon the sill, gazing
out at the once-bright stars now pale in the approaching light of
morning. He looked down, startled by voices on the porch. It was
his father and Eileis, and they were arguing. He felt uneasy, as if
this had happened before.
    “How can you even suggest such a thing,
Eileis,” his father said. “No! I can’t do it.”
    “It’s time to tell him,” Eileis said.
    “Why? What good could come of it?”
    “He already suspects.”
    “But he doesn’t know. And as far as I’m
concerned, he never will.”
    “Dayn must be told the truth. You can’t keep
the secret buried in a cave forever,” Eileis said.
    There was an uneasy hush. Dayn leaned further
out the window.
    “I can’t do it,” Gorman said. “I couldn’t
bear to hurt the boy.”
    “He hurts every day. If anything, you would
ease his pain.”
    “But to tell him . . .” Gorman’s voice
cracked.
    “It will be difficult, but you knew the day
would come when you would have to.”
    “But to tell him he’s not our child, not our
flesh and blood?”
    “He’s your child in every way that matters,”
Eileis said. “He’ll recognize this. You must have faith in him. If
he learns the truth from someone other than you, the damage could
be worse, much worse.”
    “How do I make him understand, Eileis? Do I
defend it? Tell him I rescued him from his demon-witch mother? And
what if he wants to go