Chapter 29
Secret of the Sun’s Heart
Shimmer’s muscular wings stretched behind her, hugging Echo. The girl flattened her body against Shimmer as the horse increased speed. The ground blurred, and then Echo’s insides lurched as Shimmer vaulted into the sky. Her powerful wings pumped, pushing against the air until the earth fell away and the trees below looked like stalks of broccoli, asparagus, and mushrooms. Echo clung to Shimmer’s mane, her knuckles white. She squeezed with her knees and was suddenly thankful for the saddle and straps that held her securely to her horse.
Echo’s dad and the stallion were just ahead of them. Through the whooshing of wind through her ears, Echo caught the faint sound of her dad’s laughter. It was a bizarre sensation, riding her horse but not feeling her hooves jarring against any ground. It was like a wonderful, weightless dream.
After several minutes, Echo’s heart slowed enough for her to remember that she was supposed to be seeing things from Shimmer’s point of view. She made a deeper connection, and Shimmer’s joy at flying helped Echo to relax even more. She felt her lungs expand, milking every ounce of oxygen they could from the thinner air. They circled around and the horses caught a strong current. They spread their wings wide and glided, wobbling as if they were walking a balance beam. The action did provide the horses a bit of rest, but only for a moment. Echo took advantage of that moment and looked to the earth. They were flying over the training field where a large crowd had gathered to watch them. They all looked like the mold spores Echo had seen under some old, wet leaves once. Only these spores were moving. She giggled at the thought of telling Keebo he looked like a mold spore, and then focused again as Shimmer lost the current and pumped her wings.
The intense wind of Shimmer’s speedy flight was beginning to dry Echo’s eyes. She blinked several times in attempt to refresh them. It was then that Shimmer decided to perform one of her more complicated moves, tilting sharply to the left until her wing pointed toward the earth. Echo screamed and clung to her horse. Thankfully, the straps held her secure. Echo could feel Shimmer laughing.
“Warn me next time, will you?” Echo shouted. Shimmer’s ears swiveled back, taking in the words. She sent Echo a quick image and Echo grasped onto her horse a little tighter. Shimmer rolled to the right, then pumped her wings furiously as she shot upward. The power of the movement astonished Echo. The air was getting cold fast and Echo was just about to start worrying over it when Shimmer suddenly made a bucking movement; she then shot straight toward the earth like an arrow, tucking her wings against Echo’s legs. Echo had to re-swallow her heart as Shimmer stretched her wings and pulled up at the last minute, barely avoiding a deadly collision with the ground.
Stop showing off! You scared me! Echo scolded. Shimmer snorted and whinnied as she descended again, more slowly, and landed easily at the training field. Echo’s body tingled from the ride and her breath came in short bursts. She pulled the leather strap to release her legs and shakily dismounted. She was immediately surrounded by people, elves, and fae. Echo’s dad and Finear landed next to them, receiving the same welcome. The crowd wore hope and admiration on their faces as they patted the two Aleniah and shook hands, hugged, and patted the backs of the two Kavalah.
The next several days followed the same routine; Echo and her dad practiced flying until both were comfortable. It wasn’t long until Echo was able to keep balance enough to pull her daggers and practice battle movements. She would’ve thoroughly enjoyed these training sessions if the purpose of them wasn’t to help her learn to fight against her brother. But, maybe if her dad and Finear could fight with her, they could somehow get Brecker and Midnight Sun down without too much damage. Maybe.
Thildin hummed with activity. Daggers and swords were sharpened, but more so, stakes were prepared for making fires, and powders and potions were mixed for keeping away dark dreams. Fae and elves practiced light-summoning spells. Echo watched Keebo and his people hone their fire-making magic. Some of the enemies they would face would be flesh and blood--those controlled by shadow dwellers and dark magic. But most of their foes would be made of shadow and evil, a deadly combination that Echo would’ve gladly avoided if she could.
Mari and Kiani had organized headquarters at the library. They cataloged every weapon made, who they went to, and where they were stored. They also helped organize a recruiting party--the villagers had to be warned, though they probably weren’t going to be convinced by the elves. Many of the fae, including Keebo and Jiggers, had disguised themselves as humans and were attempting to spread word of the upcoming battle, hoping to convince the villagers that the elves were on their side. Echo’s grandfather had joined the efforts, filling the ears of anyone willing to listen of how the elves had always been kind and helpful. So far, he hadn’t been overly successful. Moodey’s words still haunted too many of the villagers, and fear of the elves still burned too brightly in their minds.
While Echo and her dad rested from their training one blustery day (flying had been extremely strenuous, to say the least), Dorian approached with an uncommon crease between his slanted brows. His scowling was never a good sign. The elf stood before them and spoke, “We have determined when Belzac will be attacking Thildin Valley and the villages.” Echo’s heart plummeted into her stomach. Before, she could pretend that any battling was still a long way off, but now there would be a set date; she felt like she did when she feared having a nightmare; falling asleep was inevitable, as was this battle.
Dorian continued, “Cage sent word, and we have concluded, that Belzac will strike in one week’s time on the night of the new moon.” He gave them a deep look. “No moon, no light. Thildin Valley will be completely consumed in the shadow of night. Doons will be able to move about without hindrance.”
The wind gusted at the end of Dorian’s sentence as if to heighten the drama of his words. Echo’s dad ran a hand over his face as hope and energy drained from Echo. “How will we be able to fight this?” she asked. “I mean, the torches will give some light, but do you know how fast those things can move from shadow to shadow when there is light? They’ll be as quick as snakes in the darkness!” Echo shivered. Darkness was a fierce enough creature on its own, the doons riding it like some hideous steed only made it more terrifying.
Dorian looked at her again. “Have you been practicing with the Sun’s Heart?”
Echo cast her eyes to the side. She’d been trying to make the blasted crystal work, but no matter what she did nothing more than a dull glow ever came from the stone. She relayed this to Dorian, keeping her eyes averted. She felt, once again, horribly inadequate.
The elf placed his fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. He was smiling again, that warm, comforting smile of his. “We will work on that today. You have both flown many hours in this wind. Come to me after you have had some rest and we will try to discover the crystal’s secrets.”
Echo couldn’t help feeling hope. It emanated from Dorian like waves of heat. Her dad squeezed her shoulder, adding to the affect. She gave them a nod and then turned with Shimmer toward their elf home. They spoke to each other, giving one another comfort against their fears and hopes for the days to come.
After a short rest, Echo and Shimmer wandered to the old, familiar building where she and her siblings had sat together for so many lessons. Echo left her horse grazing outside as she entered the room with the pine table, the tall shelves filled with scrolls, and Mari, sitting on one of the tree stump seats. Memories stabbed at her heart. If only Brecker were sitting there too, it would be as if all these dark events had been nothing more than a bad dream.
Mari looked up from the scroll she’d been reading. It was the old scroll that accompanied Azura’s story scroll. Mari gave small smile as Echo sat next to her. “I’ve been watching you and dad flying. It really is breath-taking!” she said. “It almost makes me wish I’d taken after the Kavalah side of our family, too. But, I?
??m so much happier reading and deciphering strange letters.”
Echo nodded, “You have no idea how lucky you are. I’d do anything right now to trade places.” Not that Echo wanted Mari to have to face these evils, but she didn’t want to face them either.
After giving Echo’s hand a quick squeeze, Mari spoke, “Dorian and I have been pouring over this scroll. Even though some of the words are almost impossible to read, I think we may have found something to help you.”
Echo looked eagerly at the crumpled, yellow paper as Dorian strolled in. “Ah, already begun. Thank you, Mari.” Mari’s eyes sparkled at the elf. Dorian gave her a warm look, then turned his attention again on Echo. “Echo, we believe this scroll discusses what went wrong when Azura confronted Belzac. She had Dylarian and she had the love for her people filling the crystal, giving it power. It was a great love--great enough to produce a wondrous light. So what went wrong? Why was Belzac sent to the shadow lands and Azura whisked away into light? Why was Dylarian shattered?”
Echo gazed into Dorian’s eyes, as if the answers to his questions were hidden behind their chocolate irises. “What? Why didn’t it work?” Echo asked quietly.
Mari answered, “Because she couldn’t forgive Belzac for all he’d done. She held hatred in her heart for him.”
Echo looked at her sister blankly. How could Azura have forgiven him? Why would she? Echo didn’t understand.
Dorian touched her hand, drawing her attention. “As the Sun’s Heart is a vessel, you are also a vessel. You absorb, store, and transfer love, or hate, or passion, or indifference. Unlike the Sun’s Heart, however, you are given the privilege of choosing what kind of vessel you want to be--you determine what elements you wish to use to affect yourself and the world around you. What will you hold on to? What will you let go?” Dorian raised his hand as if to keep her from answering, though no words were at her lips.
“Be careful of your answer. Holding to the wrong things can be dangerous. Holding on to the right things for the wrong reasons is equally dangerous. You have a choice to make, Echo. Storing your hatred for Belzac will darken your perspective, dull your reasoning, and poison your emotions. It is like a consuming shadow. Remember, a vessel can only hold so much. By storing bitterness and hatred for Belzac, you make less room for love. Azura’s hatred toward Belzac was her failure. That hatred dimmed the light of her love, and in turn, dimmed the light of the Sun’s Heart enough to keep the power of love from ending Belzac’s darkness and saving Azura’s life. It was hatred that cracked the sword, leaving it broken and alone. The secret to the Sun’s heart begins with forgiveness. Love cannot be made whole without it.”
Echo stared at the elf. “So you’re saying I need to forgive Belzac for enslaving my brother, wreaking havoc on our home, and plotting to destroy everything I love?” The hatred in Echo waxed stronger with every word. She couldn’t stop it. It was like a poison seeping through her.
“That is exactly what I am saying. If Azura would have been able to let go of her hatred and forgiven Belzac, her love would have been whole and her victory would have been complete.”
Impossible! How can I forgive that MONSTER for the torment he’s put us all through? Echo wanted to shout. But she held her lips firmly shut and trembled with anger. She hadn’t been expecting anyone to ask such a thing. She slowly shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.” Her voice sounded low and deep, as if she’d been sleeping.
“If you cannot forgive, then we have little hope of victory next week. Take some time alone. Go for a solitary ride, just you and Shimmer,” Dorian’s voice was quiet. “Search your heart, Echo. I believe you will find what you need to accomplish this task.”
Task? He made it sound like taking books to the library or washing dishes. If it were only that simple!
Echo left the building, connecting with Shimmer and relaying what bits and pieces the horse had missed during Echo’s conversation with Dorian and Mari. The wind had died to a half-hearted breeze, and Echo didn’t hesitate to mount Shimmer. They flew for a long while as the sun sank toward the western sky. She tried to think and to feel what she was supposed to think and feel. Forgiveness. How could she forgive Belzac? How could she just shrug her shoulder and say, “It’s okay, Belzac. I know you didn’t mean it.” She just couldn’t.
Shimmer dove playfully through a low cloud. Tiny droplets clung to Echo’s skin before the wind of Shimmer’s wings dried them off. A memory, one Echo had all but forgotten until now, suddenly popped into her head. She had been small, maybe six or seven, and Brecker had done something to make her angry. She couldn’t recall what it had been. But her mom had tried to convince her to forgive him. When she’d said she couldn’t, her mom’s reply had been, “Echo, forgiving someone doesn’t mean you’re saying they’re right. Forgiveness is just as much for you as it is for the one you’re forgiving. It gives freedom to both of you.”
Freedom. Her hatred of Belzac clung to her like those droplets from the cloud. Was forgiveness like the wind, drying the hate, making it disappear?
As Echo pondered, a movement caught the corner of her eye. She turned Shimmer toward it, thinking her dad and Finear had come to join them. Shimmer whistled sharply, but not in welcome. It was a challenge.
Midnight Sun’s wings, which were like giant flames over his fiery coat, carried the horse and his master toward them. The colt returned Shimmer’s call as Echo’s eyes found Brecker’s. His face frightened her. His eyes had sunken into his skull, leaving them dark and shaded. Long, wild, black hair danced around his pale, haunted features, and dark stubble clung to his chin. He was dressed in black. The saddle on which he sat was similar to the one Echo was using, only the straps holding Brecker’s legs wound around his thighs rather than his calves and it was, as his attire, black as coal.
Suddenly, another more powerful whistle shot through the air. Oran and Finear were at Echo and Shimmer’s sides before Echo knew what was happening. “Don’t be afraid, Echo,” her dad called to her. “The protective barrier rises high above Thildin and far beneath it. He can’t cross.”
Her dad’s words brought little comfort. The three horses whinnied as their riders brought them closer together. At the barrier, the steeds pumped their wings, doing their best to hover in front of each other. It was a difficult move--one that Echo and Shimmer had been practicing. They managed long enough for Echo and her dad to look into Brecker’s dark eyes. They weren’t filled with evil, as Echo had feared. A lump formed in her throat as she looked upon the fear and utter despair etched in her brother’s expression.
Brecker opened his mouth to speak, his eyes pleading. “Please…” he whispered, but no words followed. His lips quavered and a single tear ran down his sunken cheek.
Echo couldn’t move or speak. The horses strained to keep their positions as several seconds slipped away. Finally, Oran’s shaking voice sounded above the rush of wind and blood in Echo’s ears. “Son, no matter what happens, know that we love you.”
Relief and pain flashed in Brecker’s face. His lips parted as if he were about to speak again, but instead he turned Midnight Sun sharply away and disappeared into the darkening sky.