“Don’t go too far,” Dyna called after her.
Lyra and Wren joined the other playing children, so bright and innocent.
A filling meal.
She banished the horrid thought to the pits of her mind, burying it beneath the mountain of fears and nightmares. Roiling black clouds and writhing lightning shrouded the precipice. She climbed the mountain in her dreams, digging her fingers in the wet earth, toes pushing off stacked skulls for the top—but she always fell before she reached it.
“Good day to you,” Grandmother Leyla nodded to Wendell and his wife as they approached.
The glowering farmer merely grunted in response.
Fleur offered a kind smile and brushed the loose locks of blonde hair from her face. “Good day, Leyla, Miss Dynalya.”
Dyna smiled. “Good day.”
“Are you off to see the council as well?”
“Along with every other villager, it seems,” Leyla replied.
Wendell grated, “The only way to get a fire under their arses is if we all beat down on their door.”
“I am sure they are doing their best, love,” Fleur told him, giving Leyla and Dyna an apologetic grimace.
It mildly comforted Dyna to know others at last worried about the Shadow. Her father had not been so fortunate.
Once Wendell marched ahead out of hearing range, Fleur whispered, “He has been holding meetings of his own in our home with the other farmers. They want to leave.”
“Leave?” Leyla gasped. “Foolish man. Leaving would be dangerous for you and little Finnie.”
Dyna looked down at the sleeping baby in Fleur’s arms. She’d been present at her birth and it’d been clear Finnie had been born with more Essence than her mother. Because of it, she couldn’t leave the village without attracting a mage, none of the women could. Essence was highly prized and sought. No mage would resist stealing it from them.
Her grandmother laid a hand over Finnie’s forehead. “How is she feeling?”
“Much better. Her cough vanished as soon as I gave her the tonic. Thank you, Leyla.”
“Of course. Bring her to me later so I can make sure she is fully recovered.” Her grandmother subtly tugged on Dyna’s sleeve. They slowed their pace, leaving Fleur to catch up to her husband. “I have a feeling this meeting will not go well.”
Dyna glanced around at the many grim faces of the villagers. Most were tense and angry, sharing grumbling conversations of their own. The villagers had grown tired of the council’s inaction of the incoming Shadow Winter. Answers were needed and they planned to demand them. It gave her the courage she needed to face the council.
“Be careful in there, blossom. Where there is unrest, there is trouble.”
“Yes, Grandmother.”
The path narrowed as they reached the village, and everyone headed toward the town hall building—a one-story structure of stacked stone walls and a thatched roof. A line formed as peopled filed inside in pairs. By the time Dyna entered, they had filled all the wooden benches. Many remained on their feet, arguing and shouting among themselves. Dyna took her grandmother’s arm and led her to the back.
Councilor Lorian stood at the front on a wooden dais with all of his self-importance in his crimson robes. He lazily held up his hands against their growing anger. “I must ask you for silence. We have gathered here to appoint a new council member. There will be an opportunity to discuss other issues at the meeting’s conclusion.”
The uproar swallowed his orders. Seeing the senseless arguing didn’t end, Lorian gave up trying to get their attention. He may have gained her father’s seat on the council, but he failed to command authority like the other five grim council members sitting at the table behind him.
Lady Samira sat at her position in the middle. The thin, wizened woman bared a stern glower, body arched within her mauve robes. She wore her white hair pulled back in a plait. Dyna and the councilwoman locked eyes across the room. Dyna quickly looked away to the other council members.
On the left sat Councilor Pavin; a plump, bald man in light blue robes. Next to him, sat Mathis, a thin and tall councilman with dark hair and a sharp, hooked nose. To Lady Samira’s right sat councilman Xibil with a long gray beard that matched the shades of his robes. His son, Cario, sat beside him. He was a handsome man with a mane of orange curls who drew the attention of half the women in the village.
And they each had turned their backs on Dyna’s father when he’d pleaded with them to listen. She had planned to do the same, but by their disengaged expressions, they were no more inclined to listen now than they were nine years ago.
“Why are we here discussing trivial matters?” Wendell barked at them. “The Shadow is coming.”
Lorian’s mouth thinned into a tight line. “Yes, we know it’s coming. Do you think us fools?”
One could argue.
“You look like a fool to me, Lorian,” the farmer growled, earning chuckles from the crowd. “The demon will be here next winter. It is coming to take our children and all you care about is who will sit on the council.”
The councilman flushed. “The Shadow will not take any more children.”
“And how do you plan to stop it? By offering it your bony neck?”
Dyna shook her head. As unappealing as Lorian was, shouting insults at the council would not be in their favor.
“We are well aware you have no children of your own,” said Duren, a furrier with a family of six. “If you did, perhaps you’d be more concerned.”
“We have been assembling a few plans,” Lorian snapped.
“What plans?” another man in the crowd hollered.
The villagers hurled their questions. A litany of voices all expressing the same essential concern—how will the council keep them safe?
“Well, we believe demon hunters will be of use.”
Duren repeated in angry disbelief, “Demon hunters?”
“That is your plan?”
“Nothing can kill the Shadow!”
Councilor Lorian stepped back from their anger. It boiled, beginning to spill over the brim. All shouting to be heard.
“This is madness!” Wendell bellowed. “We are leaving this place. It’s cursed, and I will not leave my family here for the demon to devour. Come with us if you want to survive!” He grabbed Fleur and dragged her toward the exit.
The men followed suit, hauling their wives and children in a rush to escape the impending shadows at their backs.
Shouts blended into one mass roar as fear infected the atmosphere. Dyna felt it fall over her, growing and growing until she could not breathe. People fed into the panic and pushed to get to the door. Fights and screams broke out among the clamor.
“Enough!” Councilor Lorian shouted. “Calm yourselves! See reason!”
His pleadings went ignored. Dyna stayed in place, holding onto her grandmother. They pressed their backs into the wall so they wouldn’t be dragged into the chaos. This had to stop, or people would be injured.
“Lyra?” Dyna desperately searched the writhing crowd. “Grandmother, where is Lyra? I don’t see her!”
“God of Urn, I hope she stayed outside.”
Why’d she taken her eyes off her sister? If Lyra was caught in this, she would be trampled!
A crackle of energy prickled against Dyna’s skin at the charge in the air. Lady Samira’s dark eyes glowed with remnants of gold Essence as it spread throughout her silhouette. She rose from the table, moving slow but steady with the help of her gnarled staff. Her robes trailed behind her small, hunched frame.