Firedown Sun

"See you tomorrow, Kitten," Jaz called, waving and grinning as he opened his own front door. I paused at mine to say goodbye to him, feeling Havva's eyes on the both of us. Jaz didn't seem to notice, or maybe he was just very good at ignoring her. I flashed my eyes toward her for a second or two, nodding in recognition.

She flipped her hair, made a snorting sound of disapproval, and disappeared inside her house.

I felt a slight difference when I walked into the kitchen, and there was a crystal-like silence that, if you weren't careful with it, would shatter into thousands of pieces. I tip-toed over to the counter, where a tray of cookies was set out for me already, hot and smelling heavenly. I bit into one, nearly dying of satisfaction. It reminded me of the first school day, and I laughed as I thought of how things had changed within just that little duration of time. I, myself, had changed. Monten had changed.

Finishing the first and wolfing down a second cookie, I shook my head and sighed in disbelief. The leaders promised things wouldn't change. They said everything would remain perfect and normal.

But what the heck was going on with this normal, perfect, unchanging system? It didn't seem "normal" at all, not to mention perfect. It was confusing and chaotic and not at ALL like how the leaders usually ran Monten.

I took a huge bite of my third cookie, suddenly thinking of how fast I'd run out of them in Asrid's- my grandmother's- basement. I slowed my chewing, even if I wasn't in danger of starvation, and forced myself to stop gorging myself. I didn't need to overeat. The weight thing didn't bother me. I exercised enough to stop myself from gaining too much, but I still didn't want to eat so much I HAD to exercise in order to stay as skinny as I was. Sighing, I swallowed my bite and took another, MUCH smaller one.

Footsteps advanced toward me. I spun around as slowly as possible, my mouth still full.

My mother stood there, her eyes gray and sad as she stared at me. I didn't even think she really saw me. She moved forward numbly, and she kept flinching, like she was having some sort of spastic attack. Mumbling and slurring her words, she asked, "Do you know if we have any Tylenol?"

I blinked and swallowed the last bit of cookie. I waited until my mouth was clear, then said, "Mom, there hasn't been Tylenol in ages. Not since the early 2000's."

She sighed. "If only we still had it. I have the most terrible headache."

I remembered Tummel, after Resh had given him that blow to the head. Had Mom been hit, too? Had she fallen down the stairs? I immediately began thinking of the worst, but she didn't look hurt. She lost and in a little pain from an aching brain.

"Yes, you don't look so good. Would some rest do you good? I'd hate to think you're going to pass out in the middle of the kitchen or something. Hey, how about a cookie?"

She stared at me, finally focusing on my face, then burst out laughing, like I'd said the funniest joke in the world. "A cookie?" she repeated. "You're going on and on about how I look awful, and you ask if I want a cookie?" Hysterical, she shook her head and mumbled, "I've eaten enough today. And besides, my stomach is upset. All afternoon, I haven't felt well. It's the strangest thing."

"You don't think you're sick, do you?"

"Oh, gracious, no. No one gets sick anymore." She smiled, seeming to forget her headache for a while. "I've just been a bit off. I can hardly remember what I did this morning, or even last night. It's like there's a break in my memory. Hm. Has anyone at school been acting strange? Maybe it's something in the water. I've been drinking a lot of water lately, that I can remember, anyhow. Oh, it's so frustrating when I forget things."

"The water..." I bent my head, staring at the fifteen cookies left on the tray. "Can you and Dad figure it out?"

"Oh, he's been in his room all day. Studying."

My eyes flashed to her face. "Studying?" I felt a connection click in my mind, and I quickly moved toward the private room.

"Don't interrupt him-" She reached out to me, but too quickly. Pressing both hands to her temples, she winced and leaned back against the counter. "Oh, my HEAD..."

I didn't bother knocking. He'd promised to be faithful to Mom, right? And how could he be cheating on her now, with everything that was going on? I burst into the room, checking every inch of the place, and he was definitely by himself.

"Kitten. How unexpected! I wasn't... um... I didn't think you'd stop by." He stared hard at me, and I knew he was checking my eyes.

I smiled at him. "It's me, Dad. Mom's going back to normal, too. She thinks it's the water."

He grinned, and I couldn't remember a time I'd seen him happier. Wait, no. Yes I could. When we'd gone to the cherry orchard in the summer, he'd always been in the most wonderful moods. We'd laughed together and had picnics there...

I blinked to clear my thoughts. I focused on what he was doing, and saw his desk was covered by papers and... BOOKS. As if in a trance, I stepped toward them. When he saw where my attention was diverted, he chuckled.

"Yes, even your old man has his secrets. But I doubt the leaders would mind me using these. They're not even really books, they're-"

"Science," I breathed. "Ankun Wickle, the man who told Mom about Asrid..." My voice broke and I couldn't continue.

Dad nodded. "That's exactly right." He came over to place a warm hand on my shoulder, as if to comfort me. "His great-great grandfather was a scientist. Of course he has an interest in it."

Finding my voice again, I mumbled, "So... science books aren't... bad?"

"Oh, Kitten." He tousled my hair, then inhaled deeply as he moved to the wall behind me. I spun to see what he was doing, shocked to see part of the wall sliding away from the other half. I stared, and my father laughed, "Don't think I haven't found a way to hide these treasures."

I glanced at him, then back at the bookshelves appearing before my very eyes. It was unbelievable. My DAD had books! Dozens of them, maybe more than half a hundred! I hurried to them, stroking their bindings to see if they were actually real.

"Shakespeare?" I whirled to stare at my father. "You have SHAKESPEARE?" I turned back and moved more quickly across the shelves, leafing through the different titles and murmuring the ones that I knew. "Call of the Wild... Alice in Wonderland... the Wizard of Oz.... A Wrinkle in Time? You have all of these?"

He appeared at my side. "I don't read them a lot, actually. I collect them. So, even if they were found, as long as I don't do anything WITH them, I won't be in actual trouble."

"I have a shelf in my room," I told him, hiding my face behind my hair. "I read them..."

He rubbed a hand comfortingly across my shoulder blades. "I know, Kitten. I know. You're one of the most obvious rebels in this city. You need to learn to-"

"Control myself, yes. Sorin's told me-" As I said his name, my dad stiffened. I turned to him, and his hand dropped from my back. "Dad, you know Sorin, don't you? You know why he's doing this?"

"Yes." Dad's eyes fell away from mine. His lips were tight, his hands trembling with some unspeakable anger or pain. "It's not really hard to guess, I suppose. He's the Rules and Regulations Teacher, correct?"

"Exactly. So how does it make sense for him to give me advice and let me eat lunch in his room?" I asked, shaking my head. "It's really weird, Dad. In class, he hates me. Outside of it?" I sighed. "He's like a friend."

"He IS a friend," he said, clearing his throat when he blurted the statement. "Or, he was, once. And I'm sure you know now that the people you think are the most obedient turn out to be the strongest and best of rebels."

I nodded. These shelves proved it. My own father, the man who acted like every other, cheating on his wife and telling his daughter to follow the Order and not lifting a finger to stop the cruelty his occupation asked of him.

And yet... Hadn't it been Mom, not him, who killed Asrid? Why hadn't he gone along, if he was such an obedient citizen?

The truth was he wasn't. He was a rebel. Like my mother had been once, before she "learned better".

"Was Asrid your mother... or Mom's?" I asked hesitantly.

Dad stiffened again, but I knew he would answer. There was a bond between us all of a sudden. Maybe it was his confession to rebellion. Maybe it was the fact he wasn't a pill-popping monster like so many other mindless adults. Or maybe it was just how I'd realized he was truly my father and not an enemy trying to force me to an Order I hated and refused to fall captive to. I was not a puppet, and obviously neither was my father.

Licking his lips, my father replied, "She was your mother's. Your maternal grandmother..." He sighed and took my hand, leading me to the desk, where he leaned casually. I stood beside him, listening intently. "It seems I was closest to her. I always loved when she told her stories, and she would bake cookies and let me stay for hours at a time. It was Avalinss who didn't care for them. Sure, she used to play with fire, as you do, but she was always a shy child. Not as outspoken as I. When we were married, she changed first. She told me we would be killed if we continued with our rebellious acts. Even though I didn't want to listen, I knew she was right.

"There weren't as many rules back then. You didn't have to be so careful. These days, if you breathe too loud, people might come after you. But when we were children, hardly any one was killed-"

"So what about Nimeous?" I clapped my own hand over my mouth. That was stupid. When would I ever learn?!

But Dad didn't even flinch at the name. In fact, he repeated it. "Nimeous Bloom." Smiling slightly, he shrugged. "There's not much to tell, but what would you like to know?"

I let my hands fall back to my sides, my cheeks still hot from my stupid outburst. "I... I want to know what happened. I've only heard about him in passing... from, uh... from Ankun." I didn't want to say his name too loud, just in case my mother would hear and remember it tomorrow, when she took another pill and did unthinkable, monstrous things once again. She said she was having memory problems, but you'd think something as serious as telling stories of an infamous hero that wasn't supposed to have existed would stick pretty well in even the most slippery of minds.

"He's a good story-teller, too, isn't he?" When I nodded, Dad cocked his head to the side. "He tell you about the call he received?"

"To the sun..." I felt like he was dragging me into a story, like he'd just turned the Telo on and I was watching an old show, slowly becoming visible enough to make out the picture when, beforehand, it had only been salt and pepper across the screen.

"Yes, to the sun. He's the one who came up with the rebel star and the, uh... the saying. I don't want to say it, I really don't. But, anyway, he was only your age, sixteen, when they called him to say they wanted him to become a leader... It was not uncommon for teenagers to be pulled away every decade or so, and some kids even fought for that promotion. They did heroic acts or followed the rules more exactly, so as to be chosen."

"Nimeous was different," I said softly, almost picturing his face. "He wasn't even obedient."

"No. Who knows why he was chosen," he laughed. "But he was. And I suppose it was because he had always been a little charismatic, always finding someone to follow him, even when nobody else was as bold in disobedience as he was-"

"Except for Yasha, right?"

"Hey, are you telling the story, or am I?"

"Sorry," I murmured.

Clearing his throat, he continued, "Except for a girl named Yasha Sumount. She stood by him to the end, even when death was inevitable. They might have been married if they hadn't rebelled so strongly. But I believe they did so purposely. See, you cannot be happy in this place unless you truly want to survive. And I don't think they did. They knew this was wrong and that there could be a better place. Death, to them, must have seemed like that better place."

I shivered, trying to understand Bloom's theory. But it was unnerving, thinking of dying as better than living. Sure, things weren't exactly always peachy here, but that didn't mean I was willing to die just to get away from it. How would that help anyone?

"So, anyway, he went to the sun, and they told him he'd been selected leader. He had twenty four hours to think of his answer, and he only had one chance. No one knows the procedure this is all done by, since once you become leader, you hardly ever come down to the city again. No way of hearing how it's managed, then, is there? And your friend probably told you what he said?"

"He said no," I whispered. "He was the only one to ever say no. But it wasn't just that that got him into trouble..."

Laughing gently, my father shook his head. "No, there was a lot more to it then that. Just like there's more to your old man, huh? Huh?"

He jabbed me playfully in the side, and it made me laugh. "Old man?" I asked, giggling and trying to breathe. "You're almost ancient now. What are you now, seventy?"

"Oh, you think that's funny?" He half-tackled me to the desk, laughing as I shrieked for him to stop.

"No, don't, that tickles!" I laughed. I couldn't breathe at all now, and every jab in the stomach became more and more hilarious. "Dad! Can't... breathe! Let me... GO!"

Suddenly the door opened. We both sat up straight, eyes flying wide open as Mom stepped into the room. She stared at us, her eyes almost back to their normal color but still a shade too dark. She was squinting, so I knew she still had a headache.

"Avalinss," Dad said, surprised. "Um, need something?"

"No..." She glanced between us, her mouth hanging slightly open. I lost my smile, clearing my throat and feeling like I was being dissected beneath her gaze.

"Why don't you order us dinner, then? We'll be out in a moment."

She left the door open, and she didn't look any less confused. But she turned back around and headed to the kitchen quickly enough.

Dad and I glanced back at each other and immediately burst out laughing. I'm sure it echoed throughout the house, maybe even all of Heavenlight Row, but I could care less at that moment, feeling happier that I had in months. Seeing my father's eyes light up like that was more than refreshing.

It was unbelievable.

"Did you see the look on her face?" he hollered.

"Keep... keep your voice down," I stammered between giggles. "She'll hear you!"

"Let's go have dinner, then. I'll finish my project later, eh?"

I hadn't thought to ask him what he'd been working on. I turned to the desk, but he was pulling me toward the door. "What were you doing before I came in?" I asked. "Or is it a SECRET?"

"No more secrets," he scoffed, shaking his head. "Um, I was just... testing the 'bad water'," he smiled. "If you catch my drift."

I spotted many empty bottles and piles of different colored pills and instantly understood. "Any luck?" I questioned, but I saw the darkness that filled his expression. I swallowed the lump in my throat as he answered.

"No. No luck at all."

*

We sat, facing each other, but my parents looked at nothing other than the food on their plates. The sound of their scraping forks and knives was all that filled the silence. I glanced back and forth between them, unsure if they didn't want to talk or if they just didn't know what to say.

"Well..." I mused, noticing in my peripheral vision that my mother's gaze flicked immediately toward me. "We cleaned the Cyrinthion today."

"The Cyrinthion?" she repeated, eyebrows lifting in curiosity.

I nodded as I drank my milk deeply. "We were Training to be Janitors," I mumbled, scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy into my mouth. I chewed, waiting for one of them to respond.

Dad seemed to catch the hint and smiled at Mom; it was obviously forced, but her dull, void-like eyes made me think the pulsing headache she was experiencing was far too distracting for her to even notice. "The sunshine today was lovely. Wasn't it, Avalinss?"

Her chin dropped an inch. A nod? Dad's and my eyes narrowed simultaneously at the lack of response from her, but she replied clearly enough, "Yes, I thought it looked rather beautiful to see the sun shining again." She turned to me silently, as if to ask what I thought about it.

"Oh, it was wonderful," I said, using a tone too cheerful to be my own. "I couldn't believe-"

"The Fire Pit ceremony is tomorrow," she interrupted. "Or maybe the two of you forgot." She glared at the both of us, and neither I or my father had to admit to it. The guilt was written in our eyes. "Well, figure out what you're sacrificing, then, and hurry about it. They won't be patient enough to accept late offerings."

And with that, she pushed her half-eaten plate away and ordered for it to be taken to the cupboards. It disappeared into the table's thick surface and, with a mechanical HISS, rumbled off to be scraped and cleaned.

I watched my mother closely as she headed up the stairwell. She really was acting strangely.

"Hm. Bad water indeed," Dad murmured. "There's still some of it in her blood stream, I suppose. She's not quite herself yet. And a headache? Clearly not normal."

"Some of what?"

"Whatever it is that's in those pills. I doubt it's anything to do with something in the drinking water. If there was, it would have been inspected and cleaned the first moment any strange behavior was noticed. But this? No, this is something very well thought out."

I bit my lip, deciding. He needed help with his testing, and I'd made the connection. He was my father; he really deserved to know.

"Uh, Dad?" I whispered, hesitating a bit because I wasn't sure if Mom was eavesdropping or if she'd gone up to her bedroom. Maybe neither. Maybe she was in the bathroom, taking whatever pain medication she could find in the house, if any existed in Monten. It made sense for a Doctor to be allowed to have some on hand.

He turned. "Yes, Kitten?"

I so wanted to tell him, to just blurt it out.

But I faltered. Stammering, I asked, "What are you going to sacrifice at the Fire Pit tomorrow?"

Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders and stared at the broccoli and potatoes left on his plate. "I haven't been keeping track of time well. The last day of the month coming up so soon? Who ever thought things could show up so quickly?" Without waiting for an answer- clearly he really hadn't been seeking one out- he breathed, "The most important thing to me isn't something you can throw into the fire and BURN. So if I write it down, perhaps they'll accept a note to be a sacrifice. Not that it's much of one. I can always get more paper."

"What IS the most important thing to you?" I asked slowly. I wasn't sure if this was something he could tell me. Most people didn't just blurt it out. Not unless you were selfish like me and burnt up whatever was the least significant to them.

And I'd guessed right. He just glanced over at me in silence, blinking twice before he looked away.

I exhaled as softly as I could. "I don't even know what to do about it," I admitted. "There's nothing really that means so much other than people or... well, fire itself. And you can't burn that, can you?"

The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly. "No, that probably wouldn't work." He picked up his fork and began gathering together a mashed-potatoes-mountain, pouring gravy over the summit with his spoon like a child. "The imagination is a wonderful thing," he said, gesturing to his creation. "You're very clever. You'll think of something."

Dad stood without ordering his plate away, and I heard the click of electricity as the Telo was turned on. I sat still, staring at the mountain he'd made, trying to get my "imagination" to give me the answer to this sudden, new problem. It didn't feel like I had one, though. The only thing I could imagine was how cool it would be to be some sort of winged kreature and fly over the top of that white, gravy-covered mountain. And that wasn't very helpful.

"...so STRANGE how something like this could happen in our very own city, Monten. You'd think we were all mature enough to control ourselves better. But this? This is beyond anything we, as citizens, can understand. It should never have happened. If some-"

My ears pricked at the sound of the news reporter's familiar, alto voice. Her name was Javina Gretto or something like that. I stood, asking for the dirty plates to be removed. They were immediately swept away, and I sighed, hurrying toward where my father sat on the couch, watching the Telo screen with a blank stare.

"What's going on?" I questioned.

"Gah. No way to explain. See for yourself."

I sat beside him, folding my legs pretzel-style and squinting at the commotion on the square, robotic box. The pictures screamed at me, and my mouth fell open.

There was a fight in the Retiring Circle. Not between adults, although there were Ordermen and Peacemakers around, not to mention the crowd of shocked, wide-eyed onlookers. I was just as terrified watching the scene, but I was sure it was worse up close.

"...two teenagers, Zarther Summon and Hammin Bluelace, are fighting to what seems the DEATH out here in the middle of the street," Javina was saying, her voice dipping even lower than her usual pitch as she said "death", and it made me shiver? Zarther? What was he DOING, getting into a fight? I tried to recall if he'd been changed or not, but I couldn't think straight. I knew this Hammin guy was in my homeroom, but none of my other classes. He'd gotten one of the other schedule papers.

"This is crazy," Dad said, making me jump. "Why would they be fighting?"

"If Mom's almost normal now, shouldn't these kids be, too?"

"Yes, they should. But..." He shook his head ominously. "They're not."

Zarther Summon. Of all people. I shook my head, leaning into the back of the sofa and sighing. It just... made no sense. If he was changed, he would only be fighting with someone who was normal. But I was pretty sure Hammin was changed, too. I watched the screen closely, trying to catch a glimpse of their eyes. But it suddenly went black and my dad got to his feet.

"Well, I'm going to uh, work on the testing a bit more. How about you? Want to help?"

"Um..." I bit my lip again. It was a bad habit, but I wasn't concerned about that. I bent my head and looked up at Dad through my dark lashes. "No. I'm going to..." I licked my lips and breathed as quietly as possible, "...the Cyrinthion."

He blinked, and I could see, every passing second, that he was grasping the meaning.

Suddenly, he moaned, like he was in pain, and I jumped to my feet, thinking he was having a heart attack or something. My eyes wide, I pushed him back down onto the couch, leaning over him and shouting in terror, "What's wrong, Dad? Say something!"

He glanced up at me, giving me a tiny smile to reassure me he was fine. But then his face paled and he shook his head, his eyes closing. "Kitten, don't. You'll get caught, or-"

"I won't get caught," I promised. "Trust me, I've got it figured out. We'll be fine. All of us in the gang."

"The GANG?" He lost the serious tone to his voice and started laughing. "What, can't you figure out some sort of creative name to call yourselves?"

I sighed. "No... It's not... even a gang, really. We're just... friends hanging out."

"Oh? Just friends hanging out in the Cyrinthion who all hate the Order and-"

"Okay, Dad? I was going to tell you why we were going there, but now you're just getting really annoying. So, unless you want me to lie or tell you some crappy reason why we're going there tonight or just want me to duct-tape your MOUTH SHUT... Then PLEASE let me explain."

My dad opened his mouth to protest, but then he just shook his head and sighed. "Kitten, you've got your mother's charisma and my stubbornness. I doubt anyone could refuse you if you say something like THAT all the time."

I smiled. "So, you're not mad I threatened to shut you up?"

"No, actually. I'm curious to know what's going on. So... what is your reason for going to the Cyrinthion?"

I hesitated, just like before. Did he REALLY deserve to know? Yes, yes he did. Did I actually WANT to tell him?

Eh, no. Not so much.

"Okay," I whispered. "I made a discovery. About the pills. And I'm going to the Cyrinthion because it's a much better hide-out than the hospital ruins, since that's a popular place for Ordermen, and I need to tell my friends what I found out." I licked my lips before I added in an even quieter voice, "I know what they put in those pills. And it's not exactly pretty. Because... well, it might not turn out so well if something goes wrong. People could die, even."

My father's eyes had focused on his clenched fists the entire time, but the last sentence set him off. He glanced over at me, shocked, his mouth falling open. "Die?" he hissed. "The leaders wouldn't be so stupid as to-"

"Dad, you do know I can ask the wall at any moment for a roll of duct-tape, right?"

Rolling his dark eyes, he nodded and folded his arms across his chest, pressing his lips firmly together.

"Do you want to know," I asked slowly, "what they put in those pills? Because if you're not REALLY curious, then I won't tell you. Once you know, that's it. You're in on the secret, and you can't blab it out to anyone, especially Mom. So... are you in?"

After a moment's silence, his lips parted, and he breathed, "Tell me."

I leaned in and whispered the truth in his ear.