The Path to the Sun

Chapter One

Kiran leaned out over the ledge, straining to see the bottom of the ravine into which he was supposed to jump.“But I can’t see what’s down there.”

“That’s the point,” said Deke. “It’s the only sure way to prove your faith.” 

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” said Jandon, leaning over Deke’s shoulder. 

Deke shoved him back. “Don’t listen to him. Just do it, you heathen.”

Kiran winced. He hated being called that. “Shut up, both of you! I’m going to jump. I’m just…getting ready.” 

Get yourself together, he told himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He took a deep breath and inched closer to the edge of the ravine. A cold shiver ran through him despite the hot sun and the sweat that soaked his tunic. His heart started to race again and the fear and doubt rushed back in. “I shouldn’t have to prove anything,” he muttered. But he did. He wanted so desperately to be accepted as a Toran. He wanted to believe. Why couldn’t that be enough? 

“My father says that faith shall set you free,” said Deke. “It’s the path of the righteous.”

Righteous? That’s easy for you to say. You were born with nothing to prove. Deke, son of Morgan, born to be an Elder, like his father, and his father’s father, and his father before him. Not a lowly orphan like me.

“Just jump,” Deke urged. “Are you worthy or aren’t you? It’s that simple.”

Simple. Right. Why did it have to be a cliff? He could outrun most of the other boys. He excelled at the games. But he was cursed with a fear of heights. He closed his eyes again and tried to envision the jump as Deke had described. He would leap off the cliff and experience the rapture of flight. Then the Great Father would catch him in His hands and lower him to safety. So why did he hesitate? 

All the Elders had made the jump. Hadn’t they? They must have. 

He dug in his pocket for a rock. The dark stone was one of his favorites, but he had nothing else. He tossed it over the edge, and waited, listening. Nothing. 

It was a long way down; he knew that much from trudging up the side of Mount Gustavus. Once they found the path to the Sanctuary on the Mount, they had to climb another steep incline before sneaking across the Bridge of Enrapture, the only passage to the sacred retreat of the Elders.

Built many seasons past, long before the Time of Dissension, the suspended bridge stretched across a deep, jagged crevasse. It was made of old, weathered cedar planks tied together by a rope of wool and vine. When he crossed,Kiran told himself over and over not to look down. But as if lured by some unseen power, his eyes were drawn to the river below. What had once been raging white water was now a meager trickle. Exposed rocks jutted upward like the jagged teeth of the legendary Mawghuls that lived in the rocky meadows out beyond the Lost Forest. His stomach squeezed in his throat and set his nerves on fire. If not for that, he would be ready to jump now. He was sure of it.

He leaned back, pressed against the sun-baked rock wall, and closed his eyes. You can do this, he told himself. In his sixteen years, he had never backed down from a challenge, and he wasn’t about to start today. He had to jump. This was his one chance. Usually, there was an Elder here for his time of atonement. But today, the Elders were gathered at the Temple for a special conclave. He couldn’t remember that ever happening before and wasn’t sure it would again. The time was now.

Kiran forced his gaze straight across the chasm to gain some sense of stability. A single brush pine clung to a jagged crevice, its long, slender roots like fingers holding on with a sure grip, its crooked branches bravely reaching out over the ravine. I wish I had your fortitude, he thought. But perhaps you can see what’s below.