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

back to the mountains? What then?”
    “Gorman, you must leave Dayn’s fate to
Daghadar. The Maker has a plan for him, as He does for us all. But
we must be patient. We must let it play out.”
    “Play out?” Gorman’s anger was building, but
he kept his voice low. “I’ve carried the burden of this for fifteen
years and can barely live with myself for it. And now I’m to just
tell him and then sit back and let it play out? He’s only a boy.
What will this do to him?”
    “It will free him,” Eileis said.
    Dayn felt the familiar pain return, the old
wound reopened. He stumbled back across his room toward the
bed.
    “So,” his inner voice whispered, “it’s true.
I am—”
    “Demon spawn!”
    The hissing voice at Dayn’s back jerked him
into reality. He wheeled around, trembling, and stared into the
face behind the voice—Sheireadan. The boy stood before him, his
beefy fists clenching and unclenching as his jaw readied for a
cruel assault of words. Dayn’s chest rose and fell to the drumbeats
of the music now playing in the background.
    “You here to spy on my sister?” Sheireadan
asked. He took a threatening step forward.
    “No, I’m here to see Alicine," Dayn replied,
taking a step back.
    Sheireadan glanced past Dayn toward the
platform where the Summer Maiden and her entourage now stood. “I
saw you talking to Falyn earlier, cave slime. I’ve warned you to
stay away from her, haven’t I?”
    “She just came up to talk to Alicine. I
hardly said anything. Barely three words.”
    The music skipped to a new tune, a
traditional folksong. The crowd cheered and clapped, crooning the
well-known lyrics.
    “Well, it doesn’t really matter, I guess,”
Sheireadan said, his voice straining to be heard over the
merriment. “From now on you’ll not have more than a few words with
her or any other girl for that matter.”
    “What—what do you mean?”
    “Simple. My father, as well as every other
father in Kirador, has already decided it.”
    The tempo of the music began to build.
Strange, Dayn thought, how it didn’t match the tempo building in
his gut. “Decided what?” he managed.
    “No man will ever let you court his daughter,
much less marry her. It’s already been decided. Everyone knows it.
I’m surprised your father hasn’t mentioned it. He’ll have a
farmhand for life.” Sheireadan laughed. “Too bad the only girl
you’re ever going to have in your life is your sister. No marital
bed for you with her. But then again, since she can’t be your real
sister, I suppose it’s possible you and she could —”
    Dayn’s eyes bulged. An uncontrollable heat
washed through him as well as an uncontrollable hatred. He had
never felt this sort of rage before. At that moment he felt as
though he could kill the boy right then and there. Dayn puffed up
his chest and raised a fist to strike.
    Sheireadan’s face went gray. “Stay back!” he
ordered. His eyes darted around.
    Dayn laughed, the same kind of cruel laugh he
had heard from Sheireadan so many times before. “Stay back? Stay
back? No, I will not stay back! You say I’m a demon. Well, you’re
right, Sheireadan. I am a demon. It’s true. I’ll not deny
it.” Dayn twisted his face into an evil grimace and moved in as if
for the kill. “Do you know what happens when a demon gets
angry?”
    Sheireadan shook his head and retreated
slowly.
    “He reaches into a man’s chest and rips out
his soul by the roots. And then do you know what happens? The demon
grinds it between his teeth and swallows it . . . piece . . . by
piece . . . by piece.” Dayn grinned a wicked grin, his face
contorted into demonic proportions. Sheireadan’s eyes widened,
further fueling Dayn’s desire to see him suffer at last. “And what
becomes of the poor victim?” Dayn continued. “He roams the
mountains for all eternity, a minion of the demon who devoured his
soul.” Dayn leaned in. “Would you like to be my minion, Sheireadan?
A slave to do my bidding?