The Path to the Sun

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

When the sky hinted of dawn, Roh had not returned. The rain had stopped. Bria calmly accepted the news. They gathered their things and set out.

Kiran followed Bria as she crept along the rocky ledge, back into the thick woods—pungent red cedars and white birches, soft tamaracks and sugar maples. The forest was still, as if hushed by their presence. They took care not to leave a trace of their passing as they made their way through the undergrowth of berry bushes and ferns.

Soon, they were climbing upward again and the soft earth turned rocky. Bria moved with confidence, unintimidated by the uneven terrain, her walking staff all the support she needed. Kiran fought to keep pace with her, embarrassed that he could not match her stamina.

Amid patches of fluffy lichens and beds of rich green mosses, they found a stream flowing with fresh rainwater and stopped to fill their waterskins.

“What did Deke mean back there when he said you aren’t a Toran?” Bria asked.

Kiran hung his head.“I’m an orphan. I have no standing in the Temple because of the question of my birth.”

“I know. But why should that matter?”

“That’s what I think!” he shouted, exploding with frustration. “I just want to be allowed to attend the Lessons.”

She glanced back the way they had come. “We should keep moving,” she whispered. He nodded, feeling like a fool for his outburst.

They followed the streambed upward, carefully negotiating the slippery rocks and exposed tree roots, keeping to the shade when they could, but the higher they climbed, the scarcer the vegetation became, until they found themselves amid a stand of stunted, knotty pines no taller than themselves. Twisted and racked by the wind, their trunks bent like decrepit old men, their gnarled roots spread across barren, smooth rock.

“I thought you said Aldwyn taught you,” she said, trying to understand.

“Well, yes. But he didn’t teach me the Lessons, well, not exactly. He challenges me. It’s hard to explain.” He shook his head, frowning. How could he explain his life to her? “It’s not the same. Aldwyn speaks in riddles.”

They emerged on the bald, round top of the mountain. Kiran stopped to catch his breath and look back the way they had come. Sunshine skimmed across the treetops.

A few more steps and they were at the summit. The far side of the mountain dropped away sharply. The land beyond stretched as far as the eye could see, clear to the very edge, where green melted into blue and became sky, so boundless, it surely held all of the Celestial Kingdom.

“Look at that,” Bria gaped. “Not a single tree. Isn’t it beautiful? Just breathtaking. I’m tired and my bones ache, but I’ve never felt more alive. Things are always better after a storm, don’t you think? Everything is going to be all right. I know it will. The Great Father watches over us. We will endure. He will keep us from harm.” She took his hand in hers and squeezed. “I just know He will,” she repeated, then let go of his hand.

It did feel like the kind of morning when everything seemed fresh and new and worries just faded away. It was easy to forget all their troubles. After all, he had just spent the night alone with her. If he had sneaked out into the hills and spent a night with her back home, they’d both be banished. But out here, far away from the village, away from the rules and restrictions, he felt freer than he ever had.

He had the sudden urge to kiss her.

He took her hand in his. She stopped and turned to face him, her eyes bright, expectant. His breath caught in his throat. What if she didn’t kiss him back? Or what if she got angry and slapped him? His hand went clammy. “Uh…you’re right. Everything is going to be all right.”