Utopia Falling, page 36
Reyne’s eyes followed Mera for half a tick. Mera watched and understood the young man remained too wounded to be approached. In hushed reverence for his campmate’s malaise, Mera silently prepared breakfast. Reyne glanced up at Mera with deep-set eyes and slowly turned away.
Another meal of cold, dry sausage and alphen nuts comprised all Mera thought safe. He chose not to leave behind any signs of a campfire for others to find. He even collected the empty shells of the discarded, energy-packed alphen nuts. The careful precautions gave whomever tracked them as little as possible to go on.
He expected the false story of Reyne’s death to give the pair time to get far away. Evidar’s assassins would discover the ruse, eventually, a detail Mera held back from Reyne or those left behind in Hensdale. Hunters would come looking for Reyne, most likely sooner than later. Whether it would be the same crew or another didn’t make any difference. They will be coming.
Reyne looked worn, eating nothing since leaving Hensdale. The grieving man rejected all offers of food Mera put before him. His rundown appearance was to be expected, given the emotional stress his mind had put his body through. The lingering effects of his last convulsion and the many miles they’d traveled contributed in their own way to Reyne’s haggard appearance.
Without sustenance, Reyne wouldn’t have the energy to go much further. Cutting off a small piece from a short, fat sausage link, Mera leaned over without saying a word and held out the sliver of meat on the end of his pocketknife.
Reyne glared at the offering.
A moment moored in time, after what seemed like hours, Reyne slid the proffer from Mera’s blade. Holding the small bite-sized slice between fingers, Reyne looked down at his first real nourishment in days. Seemingly mindless of his actions, his hand guided the nourishment into his mouth. After swallowing, Reyne surprised Mera when he said, “Thank you,” in a hushed, somber tone. Melancholy dripped from his meek, tattered voice.
Mera didn’t reply, he simply cut off another slice of sausage, stabbed the point of his knife into its center, and held it out. Without looking up, Reyne slipped the bounty off the end of the blade. As Reyne chewed the second morsel of the morning, Mera sliced the rest of the beefy link. With the pieces collected in his palm, Mera turned his hand over and delivered them into Reyne’s.
It’s a start.
The tidbits of meat settling in Reyne’s stomach seemed to bring just the tiniest spark of life back to him. He became more aware of the damp, cold fog invading every level of his being. Finishing the last of the sausage slices, Reyne cupped his hands to his mouth, expelling his own warm breath. The effort brought a small measure of relief from the damp chill. It didn’t last long. He crossed his arms and rubbed his upper limbs for warmth.
Without speaking, Mera held out the calorie-rich meat of several alphen nuts and dropped them into Reyne’s reluctant palm. Reyne looked down at the fruit of the orchard that had once belonged to him and Daedyn. It belonged only to Reyne now. Memories of Daedyn tugged at his heart. Daedyn had always liked the flavor of alphens more than Reyne. With each bite, remembrances of Daedyn washed over him, forcing him to contemplate being only half a man without his brother. He welcomed the pain his tastebuds delivered. Yet, the nuts revolted him. More than anything, he yearned for his brother with every bite.
Motionless, holding the remaining fragments in his palm, he stared into the pieces as though he might find his brother hiding among them. Not finding what he so desperately craved, he turned his hand over, letting drop the imagined bits-of-Daedyn to the ground.
Scents of the forest hung over the campsite and crept into Reyne’s awareness. Wet leaves, dampened trees, and even the low-hanging fog smelled like morning at the homestead he shared with Daedyn and Mithany. Perhaps it was the sight of the alphens, or it was the forest aroma all around him? Or possibly it was all of it, all at once, but whatever the cause, Reyne became aware he had to stand up to face another painful day.
Mera hadn’t disclosed his planned destination with Reyne. Most likely out of fear he would share the information with Mithany. Not looking back at Mera, a single thought broke free of the anger, the rage inside him threatening to be unleashed. “Where’re we goin’?” he spit out.
“How’s your head? That’s a nasty gash,” Mera said with little emotion. “Do you remember falling?”
“No.”
Reyne searched his forehead for the pain he’d just realized. With a light touch he probed around the cut halfway between his right eye and his hairline. Fingers told him the blood had dried over, birthing a thin scab.
“I’m not worried about the bump on your head. Nothing serious, although it might scar. We’ll have to keep an eye out for signs of the poison, too. Some of it is still in your system. You’ve been asleep since we hit camp yesterday.” Mera didn’t bother to recount any of the prior day’s other events. Reyne didn’t care to hear them, either.
“When I first became aware Evidar hunters knew about the others like you, my first reaction was to race back to Hensdale to protect you. To get you out of there as quickly as possible.”
The words filled the air but held little of Reyne’s attention.
“I’m the only one who knew who your actual father was or that you even existed. I didn’t share that information with anyone, not even Gwerther or Pachelle.”
Reyne didn’t react to the comment about his parents visibly; however, their mention ripped open a scab on his soul. Seeds of anger aimed at Mera sprouted in the exchange.
“So how did agents of Evidar know about you? I missed something and need to go back to where it began. I’ve got to find out who knew, and who did they report the info to? We’ve got to start at the beginning and trace each step from there until I figure this out.”
Mera’s voice grated on Reyne. “All I asked was where’re we goin’.”
“Teth,” Mera said in reply to Reyne’s challenge for brevity, then added, “That’s where you were born. That’s where it all began.”
Being told of his birth—not in Hensdale but in Teth—stirred the growing angst coiling around his heart. He started the day despondent, but every word Mera spoke wound him tighter.
As morning forged on, the white shroud enveloping the camp began burning off, droplet by droplet. The strength of the sun’s rays attacked the overcast cover surrounding them. Fog’s quest to linger a little longer inevitably failed at the persistent attack of sunlight. Molecule by molecule, layer by layer, the gray-white veil of the engulfing mist peeled away.
Reyne reflected on the moment he discovered Daedyn slumped over the porch railing—dead. Mithany’s screams echoed in his mind. His thoughts drifted. Memory of the moment stole him away from the here and now as though Reyne’s mind floated above the horrific scene, bearing witness to Daedyn lying motionless before him. Unlike any other out-of-body events he’d experienced while he slept, causing his body to lock down motionless, Reyne stood immobilized but wide awake. It clutched at him like the night terrors he experienced while asleep a dozen or so times each year, ever since he was a young boy. Fear washed over him, thinking of the dread he always experienced inside his own mind when it floated free above his body. Fully awake, yet gripped in a dream-like-sleep-terror, not able to move or make a sound, he needed Mithany to pull him out of it—like she always did. He craved for Mithany to be by his side, now, more than ever, as his savior from this wide-awake astral projection.
Hovering above in mind only, while his body remained rooted to the ground, somehow, his awareness was being pulled from Daedyn’s death scene to float over the campsite. He watched from above, outside his body, as Mera mulled about, paying no attention to his statue-like pose. Reyne struggled to regain control of his muscles, lacking the ability to move a single one. Every other time he experienced an out-of-body event, he was asleep. And like every one of those times, he struggled to return his consciousness to his body. To move a foot, a hand, a finger. But he couldn’t. He never could.
Reyne tried to speak. No sound escaped his throat.
He attempted to force out a single grunt, which sometimes worked, alerting Mithany to wake him. He looked down at himself from above as his physical body fought to move or to speak. Sounds, he was making sound, but was it only in his mind? A single low, guttural noise escaped his gut. Awareness came to him slowly. Mera had him by the shoulders, shaking him. “Reyne, Reyne. You okay?”
In that moment, like a drowning man breaking through to the surface, sucking in his first gasp of air, his consciousness fled the ether to find its way home into the safety of his body.
He wiggled his fingers.
Reyne turned his head, forming a thought he pushed out through his voice, and said, “Yeah. Sorry.” He didn’t share anything of his waking-dream with Mera. He’d never experienced an astral-projection event while awake. Neither had he shared his mind-body detachments with anyone except Mithany, and he wasn’t about to start now.
Melancholy ripped thoughts of his dreamworld-sleep-terrors from his mind and returned him to his present miserable existence: life without Daedyn, life without Mithany—a reality worse than all the nightmares he’d ever experienced.
Mera’s words from that awful night played in his head. “If Evidar hunters even suspect you’re still alive, what do you think they’d do to her if they can’t find you? They’ll use Mithany to draw you out, or worse.”
Concerns for Mithany’s safety kept him going. Otherwise, he’d drown in thoughts of his brother, never to come up for air. Torn between lying to the woman he loved and protecting her, Reyne accepted the tradeoff. He also worried he’d deceived Mithany by not revealing Neladith’s true nature or of the Firaché. He hoped it wouldn’t taint the foundation of their love, the trust between them. Blame for turning Reyne into a liar rested on Mera. Resentment towards his self-proclaimed protector joined the cacophony of negative emotions building by the second.
Mera pledged to get revenge for Daedyn. How and when that would ever happen, he didn’t know. Would it ever happen? That one thought fed into his anger for Mera, being held in check by a thin thread of the overwhelming sorrow consuming him.
But Reyne accepted that his own inaction played a part in Daedyn’s death. It was his fault for not taking Mera’s advice. He was part of the conflagration of events that led up to it. He would have to find a way to live with it. Reyne wouldn’t let that happen again—not to Mithany. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. As much as he hated leaving her, as much as he hated being without her, and as much as he hated the uncertainty of their future, he had to move forward for her sake, without her. And all that hate rattled around in its cage looking for a way out—aimed at Mera.
What’s the purpose of this? We’re going to Teth. Then what?
Reyne needed more.
Mera was holding back. Reyne was fed up with Mera’s bullshit. Wrath, like a trapped beast lurking inside his soul, exploded from its prison, and he lunged at Mera.
Hidden Truths
Hensdale: 29th day of the Salmon Moon
Mithany
Mithany, with Arek at her side, stood at the Big Alphen where they’d buried Daedyn. Girded against the impending effects of the big lie on her soul, Mithany prepared herself for the onslaught of mourners who would be told Reyne’s body lay beneath. Late morning, a day and a half after the murder, vigil rites for Reyne began and brought the first sign of trouble.
Not far away, perched on the top step of the porch, Brenal played his part, telling anyone asking to see Daedyn that the young man was too broken up to accept visitors, regardless of their good intentions. Brenal told each and every one who approached the house he would pass along their condolences.
With the turn of her head, Mithany noted a discussion between Brenal and the village’s Judjurex: its sole law enforcement agent, sole investigator, and sole judge-type magistrate and the only village official tasked with carrying out whatever justice demanded. Judge, jury, and theoretical executioner but for the Covenant’s obligation to do no harm, all rolled into one.
It took little imagination to accept Brenal’s official cause of death. Hell hounds had been spotted in the area recently, and a few years past, a single hell hound had ferociously attacked two locals. Even though it had been several years since the last incident, for the good people of Hensdale, Doc Brenal’s account proved easy enough to believe. On the other hand, Judjurex Tetrip’s official acceptance of Reyne’s death remained open.
Tetrip, a tall, thin man past his prime, hair fading to gray, did his job well. A direct-spoken man whose personality led him astray of the niceties of politeness long ago. Hensdale selected him Judjurex so many times, few in the small community recalled who’d served before him. Throughout the years, he remained the straightforward, matter-of-fact man he had been since his first day on the job.
Mithany called to mind Mera’s words, “People will believe what they expect to believe.” Mera reminded them all before departing with Reyne, “Keep it simple. It’s more believable that way.”
Judjurex Tetrip left Brenal alone on the porch. He made his way to Mithany and Arek, who were joined by the orchard’s general manager, Santander, to pay his respects.
Tetrip proffered an acknowledging bow to Mithany; the vigil rite’s ceremonial leader as tradition allowed the deceased fiancée to stand in as next of kin. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
A man a few words, his limited offering met all Mithany’s expectations given the solemnity of the circumstance. “Thank you, sir.”
He leaned in. “I mean no disrespect when I tell you I’m concerned. I’ll accept the account based on Doc Brenal’s word, but it is highly unusual burying someone in the dark of night. I don’t like it one bit. I’ll want to speak with Daedyn when he’s feeling up to it. And I’ll need some of your time as well.” He nodded, stepped back and added, “Again, sorry for your loss.”
Surprisingly, Judjurex Tetrip’s unfeeling, unsympathetic words at the supposed gravesite of her beloved Mithany thought refreshing. His words were direct, harsh, yet more than anything, honest with no pretense of feigned emotions.
If only the rest of them… Mithany’s thoughts trailed off, interrupted at the sight of oncoming mourners making their way along the dirt road leading up to the Brenton family’s Big Alphen.
News of Reyne’s death had a full day the germinate amongst the small village of Hensdale. Hordes of individuals, couples, and families all came out to console Mithany, Arek, Brenal, and Santander, all standing vigil for Reyne’s fictitious passing. Unable to hold back the depth of grief invading her soul, Mithany broke down with each consoling interaction.
She wept for Daedyn.
She wept for Reyne.
She wept for them both, gone from her life.
She cried, and she cried, and she cried throughout the day. As far as the townsfolk of Hensdale were concerned, they had returned Reyne to the Cycle of Life in body and soul. Mithany’s devastation was proof of it all despite what Hensdale’s very active rumor mill speculated about the unusual midnight internment.
Arek never left her side through it all. He stroked her back for comfort. “Hey, Sis. I’m here with you.”
Hangus, the dry-goods shoppe owner, and his fun-loving daughter, Y’vay, were among the mourners. Mithany overheard Y’vay observe to her father, “Look how brave Arek is, how Mithany relies on him. He’s her rock. He’s more of a man than Daedyn. Hiding in his house from his responsibility to Reyne. How awful. To think I—“ She stopped mid-sentence, remembering she was with her father.
Hangus asked innocently, “To think what, dear?”
“Nothing, Dad. Not sure what I was thinking. Let’s go pay our respects.”
Mithany unintentionally listened in on so many comments, many loving and heartfelt while others were inconsiderate and downright offensive. She’d heard that people said the stupidest things at such times, never understanding the truth of it until today. When her mother died, she remembered the same thing happened at her vigil rite ceremony, but then she agreed with all the awful words spoken of the woman.
This was different. She wanted to shout the truth. She wanted to tell them Daedyn was dead, and he was a good man, not the coward they spoke about. She wanted to call out to them how they were destroying her soul with each ill-considered slap at Daedyn. In her moment of pain, she wanted to admonish them all.
Even more, she desired to proclaim to every villager how proud she was of Arek. Surely, the people of Hensdale observed for themselves something in him she always knew he possessed, inner strength. Arek, her rock, had always been her anchor; townsfolk had to realize that now. She loved him more than any of them would ever understand; she knew he loved her as well.
Mithany whispered to Arek, “I can’t imagine what I would’ve done without you.”
“Sis. There isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t do for you. He’s my friend too. I got two good reasons to be here.”
Mithany knew Arek would do anything for her. He already had. Their mother always blamed Mithany for doing something wrong. Neither Mithany nor Arek ever understood what caused their mother to go off on Mithany so often. She was just a little girl. Time after time, Arek would say to their mother, “It’s me, Ma. I did it,” whatever “it” was. Whenever possible, he took the physical fury of their mother’s abuse in her stead. Just a child, but even then, he stood as tall as any man.
Mithany tried to stop him every time he stood up to their mother in her place, but never with any success. How Arek still took joy in the affections of so many women after such a childhood, Mithany didn’t understand. How fortunate she was that Reyne understood her. He and Arek were the only ones. At least she still had Arek.
Pride swelled in Mithany believing the rest of the village would see Arek for the strong, caring man he had become. She always knew he wasn’t the misogynist good-time boy they erroneously pegged him to be. There’s so much more.
