From Light to Dark (11 page)

Once they were close enough, Eref found that the man had not lied; it was only one candle, but it illuminated the entire cavern impossibly, as if empowered by some special magic.

The cave was huge. Eref tried to get his bearings. The main “room” where they stood was probably the height of fifty Light People and the width of a hundred Light World apartments. A tiny natural river ran through the floor, providing what Eref assumed was their guide’s drinking and bathing water.

Though the old man said he lived here, Eref saw few furnishings. He spotted an old mattress, a bucket, a table with papers, a quill with ink, and the bright candle. That was it. It felt more like an enormous prison cell than a home.

“I’m sorry it’s not a more comfortable place to rest after our long journey,” the old man said. “Please have a seat anywhere you like.”

Caer looked around nervously.

The old man approached her. “You are right to be suspicious. You haven’t had many people you could trust. But I swear I am trying to help you. Please sit on this mattress and allow yourself to rest.”

She did so, though she never took her eyes off Eref. He smiled at her and nodded.
Everything will be fine. We’ll figure something out
. He hoped she could understand his expression.

The mattress squeaked when she sat on it, and a haze of dust popped into the air.

“My apologies,” the old man said. “It can get a little dirty in here.”

“No, it’s fine,” Caer said, though Eref saw she still hadn’t relaxed.

The man went to his desk and pulled opened a drawer. “Are you two hungry?”

Eref was about to politely decline to eat anything that came from a grimy desk drawer, but then he saw with surprise that the old man had pulled out two large plates of fresh food. One was piled with the fruits Caer had fed him earlier. Moist pieces of what Eref assumed were aerps, pregas, and terawmellons lay sparkling on a clean, white plate.

Caer leaned forward. “Where did you get that?”

“Would you like some?” He walked to Caer and placed the plate of fruits in her hands. “I’m sorry I don’t have a table for you.”

Caer gaped at the food and then looked at Eref questioningly. He smiled. They were both starving and exhausted. That journey had been as tough as climbing a tall mountain.

Then the old man walked over to Eref and put a warm plate in his hands. This one was filled with the most wonderful things Eref had seen in a long time.

It held a steaming assortment of nuts and beans, mixed with nishpac and covered in the special srigsend they used to put on the most fancy dinners in Light World. The spicy smell traveled up to his face and washed over him.

Balancing the plate in one steady hand so that none of the food would topple onto the ground, Eref dug in with his other hand. The hot, sticky dinner felt good on his fingers, and when he brought it to his lips, he realized it tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten at home. Just the right balance of sweetness and spice. He dug in, ravenous.

Caer was experiencing similar amazement, he noticed. She sat on the mattress, lifting the fruit one at a time and slowly putting each one into her mouth. She sucked on a piece for several seconds with her eyes closed, almost in a rapture, then chewed while she grabbed a new piece.

After several minutes of silent eating, Eref felt renewed. Caer’s white cheeks blushed pink. He turned to the old man. “Thank you,” he said. “That was wonderful. How did you do it?”

But the wrinkled man just smiled. “A trick I learned.”

Caer yawned and said, “Thank you very much.” She seemed to have relaxed almost completely. The food had that effect; it gave them a sense of safety.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” The old man walked over to Caer and indicated some blankets lying to the side of the mattress. “Would you like to lie down?”

Blinking slowly, Caer nodded. “Thank you.”

He pulled some moth-eaten blankets up and tucked her in neatly. Within seconds, Caer breathed heavily in sleep. Her pink lips fluttered slightly, and her fuzzy little hands hung limply at her side. Eref noticed there was a second, clear layer of skin just under her white eyelids that extended like an additional protective covering for her eyes. The effect of its presence was mystical.

She looked like an angel.

“You should rest as well,” the old man said. He produced some extra blankets from under the desk and set up a bed a few feet from Caer.

Eref longed to comply, but this was still so strange. “Who are you? Why are you helping us?”

The old man tilted his head and smiled. “Haven’t you guessed who I am?”

“No,” Eref said. “Sorry. Should I know you?”

“I am the person you know as the Exile.”

Eref started. The Exile? The Exile was a criminal who was held prisoner in the edge of Light World—locked away for acts of treason so great they could not be told.

He looked at Caer, resting peacefully. Should he wake her? Could they find their way out of this place without a guide?

“I’m not dangerous,” the Exile said. “What you have heard about me, as many other things, has been a fabrication. I would not hurt you. In fact, I am the reason you are still living.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been watching you for many years, Eref. I’ve known for a long time that you are the one we’ve been waiting for.”

“I don’t understand.”

The Exile nodded. “This will take time to explain. Right now you need rest. Lie down, and when you wake up, I will tell you everything I know.”

Eref was exhausted. Exile or not, this old man had helped them out of a serious jam. He’d fed them and offered them a safe place to rest. Eref looked at the old man and then at Caer, sleeping soundly. It would be so nice to lie down.

“Go ahead,” said the Exile. “On my word, I will leave you alone. There are some healing plants I need to collect outside, anyway.” He waved at Eref and walked back to the mouth of the cave.

As he lay there, alone in the cavern, Eref’s eyes felt heavy. He could barely form a full thought. He dropped back onto the bed.

He looked at Caer. She was so peaceful. Her gentle face was relaxed, and her chest rose and fell softly like a bird’s. Once in a while, little humming sounds came from her mouth. Nothing could have made Eref feel more secure.

Within minutes, he was asleep.

“Eref?”

He stirred. It seemed he had just closed his eyes.

“Eref, are you awake?”

“Hm?” Eref opened his eyes and saw Caer sitting up next to him. “How long were we asleep?”

“I don’t know. Must have been a while. The old man is gone.”

He sat up, stretching his arms and back. It felt good to sleep on a hard surface again, as he had in Light World. Caer’s bed in her apartment was very bouncy, and it had been uncomfortable to wake up there.

“Where do you think he went?” Caer also looked refreshed after her nap. Her dark eyes were wide, and her cheeks had retained the light pink from dinner.

It was so nice to finally be able to look at her. To get used to her face and understand her expressions.

“He said he had to collect some plants,” Eref said, trying to rub the sleep from his own eyes.

Caer lay back on the mattress next to Eref. “It’s nice to be safe for a little bit, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Her tone dropped. “I wonder how Vul is.”

“We’ll get her, Caer. There has to be something we can do.”

“Maybe he can help us, after all,” she said.

Eref thought about this. It could be true. The Exile was reported to know everything about both Light World and Dark World. “Maybe you’re right.”

They sat in silence a few minutes before Caer spoke again. “What do you do?”

“Huh?”

“You know. When you aren’t invading Dark World and running from soldiers. For fun. Don’t you have a hobby?”

Eref grinned. “Yeah, but it’s illegal.”

“What?”

“Don’t you know I’m a criminal?”

Caer looked a little uncertain, so he decided not to push the joke. “I like word games. I write out words and change the letters around to see what other words I can come up with. Real words and nonsense ones. Sometimes I’ll create my own language by assigning symbols to certain letters of the alphabet. Then I’ll write out whole sentences in the code I’ve invented.”

Caer scrunched her tiny nose. “That’s illegal?”

“Apparently. An instructor at the Learning caught me once. She was furious. Told me I was the reason there was talk about doing the Eighteener Entrance at sixteen.”

Caer laughed. Her voice was like flower petals falling on wet grass. “They’ve debated that here, too. Changing it to sixteen.”

“Yeah,” Eref said. “But the Governors won’t allow it because our bodies aren’t strong enough or something.”

“It’s weird that we both have Governors, don’t you think?”

“A lot of things are weird about our worlds,” Eref said.

“Show me how to do your illegal game.” Caer smiled and scooted closer. “Maybe it’s not illegal here.” She looked much happier than before. The food and rest had been exactly what she needed.

“We can’t,” he said. “I don’t have any paper.”

“Then we’ll draw in the sand,” she said cheerfully.

Eref laughed. “It’ll be harder that way.”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this.” She nudged him with her fuzzy hands. “After all you’ve put me through the past few days?”

He smiled. “All right. Give me a few words.”

“Any words?”

“Yep.”

“Let me see,” she said. “Could we use the name of a place I used to go?”

“Sure.”

“Um, how about Creepy Luny Inn?”

A laugh burst out of Eref before he realized it. “You used to go to a place called Creepy Luny Inn?”

Caer giggled. “Once in a while. Vul and I went there.”

“What is it?”

“A wine tavern. They had big, comfy couches and games and books. People would go to hang out after school.”

“Funny name,” he said.

“It was supposed to be funny. Luny is the name of a wine, and the building looked like a big hotel. So they were making a joke.”

“How come you stopped going?”

“The Governors ordered it to be torn down.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “Too many teenagers together having fun, I guess. The evils of youth, and all that.”

“Yeah,” Eref said. “Too bad.”

“I loved it there,” she said, leaning over to write the words in the sand herself.
CREEPY LUNY INN

Eref scrawled something below what she had written, pulling letters from the original words.
CRUEL
“What did you do there?”

“Lots of stuff,” she said, changing more letters.
CURE
She was getting the hang of it quickly. “Mostly I worked on my jewelry while I waited for Vul to get out of track practice. Then we’d listen to music and play games and drink wine together.”

“You worked on jewelry?”
LIP

She smiled and even looked a little bashful. Eref hoped he didn’t linger too long on her face when he looked at her. “I make jewelry for my friends,” she said. NINNY”What kind?”
LYRIC

“All kinds. I use dried vines and flower petals to make things. I’ve given them to each of my friends. Vul has a necklace, Atc has a collar, Tracitatev has a bracelet. I give them to everybody.” She laughed a little again. “People probably think I’m crazy.”
PYRE

“I wish I could see some,” he said.

“Here’s one,” she said, extending a slender leg. A delicate assortment of colorful flowers and leaves wrapped around her right ankle, tied together with a strong piece of vine that wound its way through each petal.

“You made this?”

She blushed. “I know it’s kind of dumb.”

“No,” he said and genuinely meant it. “Where did you learn to do that?” He extended his hand to run a finger across her handiwork. There was his smooth, dark hand against her fuzzy, pale leg, a beautiful contrast that seemed somehow the perfect blend of shades. For a split second, his hand slipped so that he touched her ankle, and his heart banged with embarrassment. He pulled his hand back quickly. “It’s amazing,” he said.

Caer’s blush deepened, a soft pink glow around her frosty-white face. “I just started playing with the Bind Vines when I was little. They’re perfect for holding jewelry together.”

There was a strange pause in their conversation when Caer looked right into Eref’s eyes. Her usual hesitation had fallen away, and it was as though they were looking into each other.

Eref cleared his throat and stared again at the letters in the sand. His mind was a blank. What other words could he make? “You’re really good,” he said.

“Thanks. I wish it were something we could study in school. Then I could practice making all kinds of things.” Caer reached forward and added another word.
PRINCE

He looked up and laughed. “You’re good at this game, too. What did you study at school?”

“You mean our general studies or my specific career track?”

“Your career track.”

Caer frowned. “Fire.”

“Fire? But I thought—”

“For setting the Pyre alight.”

He stopped pondering the letters in the ground and just stared. “You were going to be an executioner?”

This time Caer wouldn’t meet his gaze. She just nodded.

Eref suddenly realized he’d just said “were,” as if their fates had already changed. He hoped he was right.

“How about you?”

“I think they were going to make me a grocer,” he said. “My career track was Business, and my tests were all about bagging items in the right order.”

She laughed.

“What?”

“I can’t imagine you bagging groceries.”

He grinned. “Me, either. I was terrible at it in class.”

For a quiet moment, they went back to absentmindedly writing words in the sand, and then she said, “I want to make something for you.”

“Really?”

“If I had some plants, I could make you the perfect ring.”

“That would be great,” he said.

“I always try to make the jewelry match the person. Your ring would be lots of fun to make.”

That intrigued Eref. “How would it ‘match’ me?”