Here Shines the Sun Page 3

  The demon’s lips furled into a terrible smile and it pointed a long, blackened finger to the night sky.

  Kierza and Rook looked up. The moon shown bright and silver upon a sea of pitch black. There were but two stars upon its entire expanse. Then there was a terrible roar, like that of a great fire sweeping across the sky, and one of the stars fell from the heavens, leaving a trail of sparkling, white light in its wake.

  Kierza looked upon Rook. In his hand he held the Golothic. It was a small artifact, only slightly larger than an egg, and it was made of some sort of sandy, red stone. It was a hand—a mockery of a human hand—and its slender fingers were bent into the form of a terrible clutch. She was the only person Rook had ever shown the artifact. He had never even told his father, Callad, or his mother, Sierla, of it. He had shared its story with her one night, not so very long ago. And she hated it. It terrified her. It smelled of scorched earth, like something rotten from the bowels of the world, and it was always warm to the touch. And yet, for all its ugliness, it held a strange beauty. The runes on it were beguiling; its form hideous and beautiful all at once. Kierza had many times held the thing when Rook was asleep, marveling at it and hating it. But now, as Rook held it, the fingers moved, closing slightly so that the thing was now almost a fist.

  Kierza looked back at the beast.

  “The time nears, Rook. My payment comes due.” said the demon. Then its eyes burned into Kierza’s own. It seemed to take its first real notice of her. “What have we here?” It chuckled cruelly. “You should not have come here, my precious little darling. Here there is only fire and anger.” He looked at her and chuckled in his infernal voice again. He pointed his charred finger.

  Kierza looked back at Rook, but now he was standing with a little girl. She couldn’t have been much older than she was that night Rook beat her brother. The girl had the most beautiful blue-black eyes; eyes just like Rook’s own. Her hair was long and straight and as black as Rook’s, curling just at the ends where they rested on her shoulders. She wore a white dress with long, white stockings over her legs, and shiny, black shoes on her little feet. She outstretched her arms to Rook. “Remember when you kept us warm with that? Remember when you protected me, and fed me?”

  Rook looked at the Golothic in his hand.

  “But you left me,” said the little girl, and Rook looked back up at her. “You left me!”

  “No,” said Rook. “No!” He tried to hug her but she seemed to be just out of his reach. “No, I didn’t mean to leave you!”

  “But you did!” she accused, her voice taking on a venomous edge. “You left me! You left me to starve!”

  “No!” cried Rook, trying to clutch at her. “No!”

  “You let me starve!” screamed the girl, her eyes narrow, her lips furled. Blood began to flow from her mouth and down her chin. It poured over her white dress, streaking it with crimson.

  “No!” cried Rook, falling to his knees. “No!”

  “Yes you did!” accused the little girl, her voice becoming something more than it should be; something dreadful and wicked in the most terrifying of ways. “You let me starve! I’m hungry! I’m hungry!”

  Kierza screamed as Rook dug his nails into his wrist and peeled back the skin. Blood flowed like a river from the wound.

  “I’m hungry!” shrieked the little girl.

  Rook placed his bloody wrist to her mouth.

  “I’m hungry!”

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  Rook and Kierza shot up in bed. The blue light of a summer’s night filtered through the curtains of their open window, casting their bedroom in a soft glow. The sheet that covered Rook was drenched in warm sweat and it clung to his limber, muscular frame. He looked at Kierza, her brilliant, green eyes wide; her honey-brown locks sagging with sweat. The wet sheet clung to her narrow shoulders and supple frame and through it he could see her breasts. She was seventeen now, not the ten-year old girl he had seen in his dream. Rook tore the sheet from his body and smoothed his hand down his chest and belly, feeling the muscular ripples of his abdomen. For some reason he had to make sure he was the twenty-year old man he was, and not the angry boy from his dream.

  Kierza’s hand reached for his cheek, her slender fingers tracing over their soft angles. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak.

  Rook grabbed her head in his hands and hugged her to his chest. Her hair smelled of summer winds and lavender and he took it all in as his heartbeat eased. After a moment he kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes. He could look into them forever.

  “Did you dream of your sister again?” she asked. Her voice was warm and pleasant and its gentle tone complimented the scent of her hair. She traced a finger over the scar on his shoulder.

  Rook nodded. He stroked his hand through her hair. “But it was different this time.”

  Kierza’s tender lips curled in a faint smile, tugging at the thin, pink skin around her exposed nasal cavity. She put her hand through his short, black hair and then craned her neck up to kiss him softly upon his lips. “How so?”

  “You were there.” said Rook, looking into her eyes, wanting to lose himself in them. He traced his hand from one cheek to the other, his finger gently passing over the tissue of her missing nose. “It was the day I fought your brother for you. And then it changed to the one of my sister.”

  Kierza licked her lips and turned her head.

  “What’s wrong?” whispered Rook, stroking his hand down her soft cheek and over her slender shoulder.

  “I had the same dream,” she whispered. She looked back up at him. “And there was a demon.”

  Rook’s brow furled. “How did you…”

  “He was in your dream too, wasn’t he?” asked Kierza, sitting up straighter now. The damp sheet sagged its way down her body, exposing her supple breasts and the tarnished, pewter heart pendant hanging from her neck. She always wore it, and never took it off. “Was… was that Bulifer?”

  Rook looked away from her.

  “We did, didn’t we?” said Kierza. “We had the same dream. You fought my brother and the demon was there behind you, whispering in your ear. And then we were in a field and I saw you with a little girl. And the demon… that was Bulifer, the one you told me about, wasn’t it?”

  Rook looked at her and nodded slowly.

  “And I saw a star fall out of the sky.” said Kierza. “Did you see it too?”

  Rook chewed his bottom lip and nodded again. He and Kierza had never shared a dream before and he didn’t quite know what to make of this. The fact that she had seen the demon, Bulifer, concerned him. He’d be damned if he let the creature touch her.

  “And… I saw the Golothic close as you held it.” she said.

  At that Rook’s and Kierza’s eyes met and they shared a brief moment of understanding. They both leapt naked from the bed. Rook rushed to his pants that were strewn over his dresser and he fumbled with them until Kierza flung aside the curtains, filling the room with pale moonlight and a warm, summer breeze. From outside Rook could hear some distant shouts, too faint to make out the words. He turned to face Kierza, the Golothic in his hand. It was hot. Almost too hot to hold.

  Kierza spun around to meet his eyes. “A star really fell from the sky,” she said. She looked back out the window, craning her head around. She turned around to Rook again. “There’s only one star left. It really happened.”

  Rook licked his lips and then pursed them into a frown. He held the Golothic out to her. Its fingers were curled up into an almost complete fist. “And this really closed.”

  The two stared down at the thing for a long moment in silence. Rook had told her about the Golothic and the demon. She knew as well as he what its closing meant. It meant the demon’s payment was coming due.

  Kierza padded over to him and held him in her arms as she rested her head upon his warm chest.


  “I have to find her.” said Rook at last. He looked down into Kierza’s eyes. “Time is running out.”

  Kierza pursed her lips. “Rook, maybe it’s time to—”

  Rook broke from her grasp and slipped a black shirt over his body and then began fumbling with his pants.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’ve got to go see Gabidar.” said Rook. “I have to find Ursula before it’s too late.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  The first light of dawn had begun to creep up from the horizon as Rook found himself at the outskirts of town where the Caelestia River and the Great Narberia River met. The Caelestia originated far in the north, beyond even the mountains and Wildlands of Narbereth where nobody was allowed to go. Some said the Caelestia flowed all the way from the forbidden lands of Duroton where it finally emptied into the Lake of the Eagles. The Great Narberia River originated in the east, not far from Rothara where Rook first came to Narbereth. From there it flowed across the lands and disappeared down into the kingdom of Penatallia.

  The intersection of the two rivers made the city of Bellus a rather busy merchant stop—too busy, actually, for the city’s size. Bellus was by no means equipped to handle the traffic here at the docks and the two rivers could get backed up for a mile in all directions on busy days. The crafty merchants of Bellus, however, liked it this way and had done all they could over the years to keep Bellus from expanding. The heavy patrols of city guard were so busy trying to police the area while simultaneously checking cargo and collecting taxes and tariffs that it was easy to slip things in and out with secrecy. For Rook, this meant he had an easy time getting Gabidar to traffic goods bound for Jerusa out of the city. Unfortunately, Rook also knew that this made Bellus a hub of illegal slave trading, something he despised.

  Slaves were perfectly legal in Bellus; Rook and Kierza were both technically slaves. However, slaves who had bought their freedom were supposed to be off-limits and it was illegal to recycle them back into slavery. Unfortunately, the permanent brands upon their necks made it very easy to kidnap them and smuggle them into different parts of Narbereth where nobody would be the wiser, and where it would be all but impossible for the slave to prove his freedom. Similarly, people from other countries—especially Jerusa—were often kidnapped and brought into Narbereth and systematically branded for slavery. Rook himself had been victim to that crime. Rook despised the slave trade and tried his best to deter it, but as a slave himself, there was very little he could do. Gabidar used to be part of the slave trades until Rook made it more profitable for him to traffic goods and food for the people of Jerusa, and to bring back exotic items from other lands as he looked for his sister, Ursula.

  This morning, however, Rook was not thinking about the slave trades. He was, however, more thankful than ever that the docks were so crowded. Although he looked more a merchant than a slave in his nice outfit of black shirt and pants, carrying with him a large sack of goods, the slave brand on his neck would give him away if any took the time to look. He had left without telling his father, Callad, and therefore did not have his slave bracelet on. Without his slave bracelet, he was technically not allowed to be out in the streets. A slave without a bracelet often meant he was skipping out on his master, or out and about when he should not be. The bracelets were used by slave masters to declare where their slaves were allowed to go, and they were also used to declare what their slaves were allowed to carry with them, especially in terms of money. Rook knew that if he were to be stopped by a guard while carrying what he had, he would certainly be beaten and arrested. Thankfully, the falling star had stirred the entire city into an uproar, and although the guards were out in force, they were too busy controlling crowds or gossiping among themselves to bother patting slaves down.

  Trusting his luck, Rook quickly made his way down the crowded streets that lined the docks. Here there were warehouses with adjoining homes everywhere, mostly owned by the wealthy merchants. There were also a number of inns and taverns, and around those the crowds of excited people were thickest. Gabidar himself owned a warehouse and home at the very far end, just outside the busiest docks where he kept a number of his own ships berthed.

  Although Gabidar was independently wealthy—largely due to Rook’s coin over the years—the man liked to keep a low profile. His warehouse was a nondescript building of timber and stone with an upstairs that served as housing. It mingled seamlessly with the other structures around it. The tributary that ran behind the buildings was clogged with small boats where crewmen gathered on decks, pointing at the last remaining star in the murky, dawn sky.

  Outside Gabidar’s warehouse a pair of his brutish guards were chatting and pointing up at the sky as they puffed on cigars. From the upstairs window Rook could see Bones, Gabidar’s quick-hound, barking and fogging the glass with his hot breath. Gabidar’s three children were out playing at the edge of the river, and his wife, Marisal, was there tending them as Gabidar himself held her around the waist, peering into the heavens.

  Gabidar had three boys, the eldest was twelve and the youngest was five. They all had their father’s bright, brown eyes and straw-colored hair. Marisal was a beautiful and buxom woman who liked to dress plainly and wore a simple, black veil upon her face. As Rook came upon the warehouse Gabidar’s men turned to him but didn’t stop him. They nodded their recognition of him and allowed him to run past them.

  “Gabidar!” cried Rook. “Gabidar Notaro!”

  The man turned to Rook, as did Marisal. Gabidar was a tall man, dressed in his usual travel-worn clothing. He stroked at his pale beard as his eyes found Rook through the morning dusk. “Rook?” He turned to Marisal and Rook could see the disapproval in her eyes as she hiked her veil and silently communicated something to him. Rook knew that she wasn’t very keen on him sending her husband off to all corners of the earth and she had become more vocal about it this last year.

  Rook ran up to them, panting slightly. “Gabidar,” he said between breaths. “I need you to—”

  “Did you not see the star fall from the sky?” said Marisal. “There’ll be no going anywhere this day. It is a bad omen to travel after a star has fallen.”

  Gabidar frowned at Rook but didn’t acknowledge his wife.

  Rook looked at her. “I’m sorry, Marisal. Let me just ask one trip for this summer.”

  Marisal shook her head and Rook was certain he could see the scowl beneath her veil. “It is pointless and dangerous. Gabidar, tell him. Tell him about—”

  Gabidar gently placed a hand over her mouth and they exchanged a look before Marisal rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Gabidar sighed and looked at Rook. “Rook, my lad, now is not a good time.”

  Rook pushed the large sack he had been carrying into Gabidar’s arms. “I’ll make it well worth your while.”

  Gabidar exhaled loudly, looking down at the weighty sack he now held. Marisal eyed it suspiciously.

  “Just one trip and I won’t ask again for the rest of summer.” said Rook. He gestured at the sack with his head. “It’s enough to buy plenty of provisions to take into Jerusa…” he paused, and then cautiously added, “and to take you into Escalapius to look for Ursula.”

  “Escalapius!” shot Marisal. “That trip will be the entire summer!”

  Gabidar shook his head and began unwrapping the sack. His eyes went wide as a sword with the distinct silvery-metal grain of Everlight emerged amid a number of large, gold coins. Marisal craned her head over and her eyes focused more keenly on the wealth before her.

  “I made that sword for Lord Anubeth.” said Rook. “It’s worth eight-thousand crowns easy; twice over if you sell it in Escalapius, I’m sure. I don’t think they’ll even have heard of Everlight yet. And there’s another thousand crowns in there as well.”

  Gabidar looked at Marisal but she was shaking her head. “Tell him.” he heard her whisper. “Tell him no
w.” Gabidar hushed her with a wave of his hand.

  “Tell me what?” asked Rook.

  Gabidar exchanged a look with Marisal and then said, “Rook, I’ve been to Escalapius for you before. I’ve been to Penatallia and Dimethica, I’ve been all the way to the Woes looking for your sister. Rook, maybe… maybe it’s time to stop.”

  Rook scowled. “Stop? How can I stop, Gabidar?” An anger surged inside Rook and his hand went into his pocket and began playing with the Golothic, tracing over its sandy texture, taking in its heat. He knew Ursula was alive. Whenever the demon brought her to his dreams she was so real. Yes, she was older than when he had last seen her—indeed she had just been a baby when she was torn from his arms—but it was unmistakably her. Whether it was really her in those dreams or just a phantom conjured by Bulifer Rook did not know, but he was certain that little, black-haired girl was out there somewhere, and that it was undoubtedly his sister.

  Rook’s fist clenched around the Golothic. “She was just a baby and I failed her,” spoke Rook, mostly to himself, as the vision of Ursula being taken away in the cart driven by Rennic Finn played in his mind. He could still hear that fiend’s giggling. “I let her get taken away from me. I was all she had; all she could count on. But I failed her.” Rook looked at Gabidar and wrath smoldered on his words, “Don’t ever tell me to stop, Gabidar. I can’t give up. I won’t give up. Not so long as she’s still out there. And she is, I know it.” Rook noticed that Gabidar was eyeing his hand strangely. He looked down and realized he had taken the Golothic from his pocket and was squeezing it so hard that his knuckles were white. Without a word he slipped it back into his pocket.

  Rook sighed, calming himself. “Gabidar, please, you have to do this for me. If I could do it myself, I would. You know that. But I need you. I know she’s out there, Gabidar. I know it. And I have to find her, before it’s too late.”