Sunrays Among Shadows

By H. Dawn Hunter

The Present: After an abduction left them without memories of their childhood, Lily and Liam Howell have led a quiet life. For twenty years, they've avoided the topic of their disappearance, carefully tiptoeing around each other in fear of what they might expose or discover. 

Until Lily remembers something. Then she's willing to do an

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. Dawn Hunter
• Release date: Mar 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798987533529

H. Dawn Hunter

H. Dawn Hunter is a licensed tattoo artist and lifelong Alaskan. She enjoys traveling, the band Rush, and singing show tunes to her very unenthusiastic cat. For more information and updates, please visit hdawnhunter.com.

Book preview

Part Two

FAIRIES & FALSEHOODS

Two tomatoesNewspaper Article

Lily

Icrumpled the newspaper without finishing the article and marched down the hall with it smashed in my fist. My face felt hot. I swung my arms and stamped my feet. I huffed and loudly clicked my tongue, mumbling curses under my breath because I wanted someone else to share my aggravation. But my tantrum was ignored by the single maid I passed in the corridor.

I charged straight into the drawing room. Finding Mother on the sofa, I inhaled a deep breath and slapped the paper on the table in front of her.

What is this?

Unalarmed, she looked up from her embroidery, her hands stopping for only a moment before they returned to stitching. A publication, she replied simply.

Did you speak to them?

This time, she wouldn’t even spare me a glance. Impassively, she asked, Lilith, is there some unfathomable reason you feel the need to address me so harshly this morning?

Did you speak to these people?

What else would you have me do, child?

I’d rather you not fuel rumours about our family! This isn’t a news article; it’s opinionated rubbish! How can anyone even read this?

The inflection of her voice wasn’t altered by my anger. It remained calm, almost detached. It’s a new publication from a man who didn’t know what to do with his wealth, so he started a paper. He writes in such a fanciful way. I rather like it.

Do you? I scoffed. This isn’t news!

I’m doing what I can, Lilith. I can’t very well go out and search for him, can I?

You’d rather exploit our family?

With a disparaging sigh, she set aside her stitching and, at last, gave me her attention. I just want him found safe.

Don’t talk to me like I’m one of them!

Are you not interviewing me? She folded her hands, her elbows sticking out in perfect right angles. Her face barely moved when she spoke, her posture strict, unerring as if she were but another piece of furniture in the manicured room.

I chewed my lip, suppressing the urge to throw my hands up and stir the air that had settled around her. If it was an interview she wanted, then it was an interview she’d get. Why d’you want him back? He’s already dealt us a blow.

He’s gone missing, Lilith; he didn’t abandon us. She spoke the words as if she’d rehearsed them, though whether for others or herself, I couldn’t be sure.

What’s the difference?

She straightened her spine. A matter of choice.

"He walked out the front door of his own accord. That was his choice."

You don’t know what may have happened to him after. Delicately, she placed a hand over her heart—another practised gesture—though there was little emotion in her voice. We can patch it up if he returns, or if he’s found dead— Her eyes flicked over to the window. —we’ll gain sympathy as the victims of a terrible misfortune.

I gaped at her, the cap I’d placed on my anger bursting. Listen to yourself, for God’s sake! But that pushed me over the line. She shot to her feet, her index finger stabbing the air in front of my face.

"Don’t you dare speak to me in such a way."

Why? I thought. You don’t listen if I speak normally.

But I bit my tongue.

How quickly that measured indifference fled her eyes, only to be replaced with ire. My stomach tightened with anxiety, but I didn’t know how else to make her communicate. I wanted to draw some kind of emotion from her, and anger was the easiest to produce.

When I said nothing, she glanced past me at the grandfather clock. She lowered her hand, and even that movement was made with careful restraint. Her exhale hissed through her teeth. Get out. Your governess is waiting for you, and I haven’t the time to entertain your nonsense.

I couldn’t help myself.

My nonsense? This. I snatched the paper from the table and shook it between us. This is nonsense—this rubbish. The Atwood House? Really? That’s what you’re doing? Creating fear and mystery to soften the scandal, turning it into a tragic end?

I watched her jaw clench and unclench. Then, she sat back down and picked up her embroidery, the furniture-stillness returning to her face, though her voice lost none of its venom. With your father gone, until your brother comes of age, I am the head of this household. Do you know what that means, you insolent child? It means I will do what I can for the sake of your father’s good name—and for yours. Now get out.

Jasper

Idrummed my fingers on my thigh one tap at a time, thumb to pinky, pinky to thumb, silently counting as I leaned back against a wide oak. I crossed my arms, pressing them down against my ribcage and squeezing, holding the tension until my fingertips tingled, but then I felt too constricted. I unfolded my arms, shaking them out, flexing my fingers.

C’mon, Bridget, don’t be late. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Not today.

Then suddenly: a noise.

I dropped my hand, my eyes darting, though I stood still, waiting, listening.

A twig snapping underfoot. A rustle of leaves from afar.

I dashed forward a few strides and peered across the grassy field, but as soon as I was out of the oak’s shadow, my palms began to sweat, an alarming thought slipping into my mind: what if it isn’t her?

I tensed, my chest collapsing as the breath fled my lungs. Swallowing, I turned my head slowly from side to side, my hands closing into fists as the wind moved the grass in a wave across the meadow.

Then came a realisation: I was out in the open. Visible. Vulnerable. An easy target. When the wind gusted again, every blade of grass seemed to be directed at me, thousands of little hands pointing and crying out, ‘Him! Here! He’s over here!’

Panic urged my feet backward, stumbled step after stumbled step, until I hit the oak’s trunk and was forced to halt. Immediately, I ducked down, bracing myself, waiting for an attack, waiting for—

Stop it, Jasper. There’s no one out to get you; there can’t be. No one on Earth knows what you’re doing, and no one elsewhere would care. Take a deep breath. Relax. You’re safe.

Who was I hiding from? I wondered, but the answer came easily: myself. I was the only enemy here. I was the only one to be feared.

Peeking up through leaves and branches, I checked Aurisol’s position and nearly laughed, though without humour. The Auric Sun hadn’t yet begun its westward descent, and noon had been our chosen hour.

Bridget wasn’t late; I was early.

Sit back, wait, and stop fearing when you ought to be celebrating the fact that everything is still going as it should.

My plan had been successful many times before, so I couldn’t help distrusting every new moment. That was the problem with having a perfect plan. It couldn’t stay perfect forever, and the possibility of it failing grew with every execution.

Don’t worry. Bridget isn’t even late yet!

I inhaled and relaxed against the tree again, closing my eyes.

Everything is perfect, Jasper …

The corners of my lips turned up as I wet them, excitement stealing the place of discomfort, which I welcomed. Noah once told me in one of his tiresome lectures that it’s impossible not to smile while watching a plan unfold in exactly the way it was imagined. It seemed I was no exception, and although he could know nothing of my assignment, I thought it would please him to see that I’d taken initiative and planned something for once in my life. Then again, I doubted he’d support this particular plan. I hardly approved of it myself.

Capturing and imprisoning foreign children wasn’t exactly a notable accomplishment by most standards. Though ashamed as I was to admit it, I couldn’t help feeling proud. Could anyone after succeeding in so delicate an undertaking? I’d probably be embarrassed by the grin spreading on my face if there was anyone around to see it, but there wasn’t.

Not yet.

But she would be here soon. They both would be, and if Bridget was timely, I would only have seconds left to wait—seconds left to collect myself enough to put on a decent show.

The Auric Sun hung almost directly above me in the sky; noon was here.

The clothes I wore were restricting, but I managed to hoist myself up onto a low-hanging branch. I scanned the tree line beyond the field, searching for movement. My heart rate spiked when I saw them.

Materialising near the forest’s edge was the child—a young girl, perhaps ten or eleven—running doggedly after the fairy, her eyes glued to those soft blue wings. I sat on the bough and adjusted my collar, my smile broadening. I couldn’t help it; this was almost too easy.

I stuck my neck out, squinting to find Bridget. The tiny woman balled her fists as she sped toward me, her arms swinging back and forth, increasing her efforts until she swooped up and around and disappeared under the oak’s cover.

Bridget! I whispered, directing her to me.

She slowed, and when I held out my hands, she dropped into them with an exhausted huff, appreciatively patting my palm. She rubbed her eyes and flattened her wind-blown hair before turning to face me, but her accompanying smile was almost immediately swapped with a frown.

Had I forgotten something? My hair was neatly parted, my jacket fastened, my sleeves rolled down and buttoned at the cuffs … I’d even asked a maid to steam my clothes so they’d look nice and proper. There wasn’t a wrinkle on me.

With puffed cheeks, Bridget stood, marched across my hands, and used her tiny fist to rub a smudge of dirt off my chin. She inspected me a moment longer, her hands on her little hips, and when she seemed satisfied with my cleanliness, she gave a final contented nod and returned to her seat at my fingertips.

Thanks … I muttered. She glanced over her shoulder, and her wink met my eye roll.

When the girl finally approached, I drew my feet up and took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the encounter. She stopped fully a few yards away, panting but smiling as she searched for the fairy. She was scrawny for a clergyman’s daughter with dark hair and eyes—pretty enough, I decided, but unremarkable.

I sighed, prepared with a greeting, but when I opened my mouth, the words held in my throat. All at once, the nervous discomfort came sweeping back through me. I closed my eyes, squeezing until I could see splotches of white across my eyelids, wishing I could vanquish the unwanted feelings with sheer force of will, but—

She looks so happy.

A shiver shook my body, though the air wasn’t cold, and I couldn’t stop the thought from forming: This is wrong, isn’t it?

No, I told myself, No, it’s fine. Just do it. Don’t think about it. You’re overanalyzing again. Everyone does things they aren’t proud of to get what they want. Everyone. You aren’t exempt.

A prick on my finger opened my eyes, and Bridget stared up at me expectantly. She tossed her head, motioning toward the girl, lifting her shoulders and giving me a look as if to say, ‘What’re you waiting for?’

I swallowed thickly. What was I waiting for? There was no one here to judge my indiscretions, no one to stop me from taking advantage of the perfection this day afforded. Everything was fine, so why hesitate?

Bridget was right. If I were going to have doubts, I should’ve had them the first time. My integrity had long since been sullied, so these moments of uncertainty didn’t matter. What mattered was that my plan would work. At the end of the day, the job would be done, and if I came out the victor, everything would be fine …

I lifted my chin again to look at the girl, masterfully composing my face within a breath of time.

Hello, I said loudly, scooting forward on the branch. I cupped my hands around Bridget as I slid off, careful not to jostle her too much when I landed. It’s a lovely morning, is it not?

The girl whipped around, panic flashing in her widening eyes as I stepped out of the oak’s shadow and into the Auric sunlight. But I was careful to keep my distance. If I’d learned anything from encounters with my previous quarry, it was to always expect a wait, and although it was almost a mandatory occurrence, it still felt awkward.

This was the moment where she made her decision—where silence loomed as she weighed the options in her head: to run and hide, to remain at a distance, to approach a stranger and his mythical pet …

Which to choose? Desire or logic? Which is safest? Which is smartest?

I licked my lips, waiting, but she only stared, brown eyes bulging without so much as a blink.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, holding the smile.

She stared.

I swallowed and rolled my shoulders back.

I curled my toes in my boots.

And still, she stared.

I clenched my jaw, sucked in a big breath through my teeth, and squared my shoulders. If she wouldn’t speak, I may as well begin introductions.

I’m Gabriel, I announced, pushing my chest out, trying to mimic my eldest brother’s confident stance. Apparently, ‘confidence is key when establishing an air of authority,’ but as far as I could tell, Noah only said things like that to justify being such a pompous arse all the time. Gabriel Atwood.

She didn’t answer.

I drew in another long breath, trying to relax my face, and wearing what I hoped was an inviting expression, I nodded toward the fairy, raising my hands.

I see you’ve met my friend here, I said with an even wider smile. Voice low and smooth. Polite. Believable.

Timidly, she nodded, and I exhaled in relief, glad for some acknowledgement at last. I’d taken care with my appearance today. I’d washed, combed my hair, and even dressed myself in a ghastly mess of silk and tassels. I didn’t always appear particularly royal, but I didn’t think I was that unfortunate-looking. I was approachable, at least.

I held my breath, the smile frozen in place on my face.

Y-yes, I have, she said softly, her eyes peeking up through her lashes and then dropping to her feet again. Bridget, isn’t it?

Finally.

Bridget nodded exaggeratedly, used to inflating her movements when talking to humans. I tossed my hands, flinging her into the air. The fairy’s wings caught in the breeze, and she easily corrected herself, swooping around the girl’s head. Relaxing enough to grin and giggle, the girl followed the little woman with her eyes for a moment before returning her attention to