Read Online The Smaller Evil by Stephanie Kuehn - Free Book Online Page A

single person below had brought with them some object of illumination—hidden from sight before but now out in the open—flashlights, lanterns, headlamps, even those glowing sticks children wore around their necks on Halloween. There were candles, too, scores of them—long tapers threaded through Dixie-cup bases, flickering votives held inside Mason jars, even thick pillars gripped in gloved hands—all lit so quickly it was as if a switch had been flipped. The whole clearing, dark one moment, was now brilliantly aglow. Tiny earthly stars danced in every dimension: their warm light bouncing off granite, shooting up into the trees.
    Arman’s heart swelled.
    It was just so
beautiful.
    The night breeze ruffled his hair, his skin tingled with rare pleasure, and Arman didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave this moment. He didn’t want to change one damn thing. Yet even in themidst of such beauty and awe, he could still feel the telltale scrabble of rising panic. Was
he
supposed to have brought something? Was he meant to have a light of his own? Maybe his small part was what was missing from this breathtaking whole. Maybe he was screwing up a responsibility he didn’t even know was his.
    Shit.
    With newfound worry came familiar guilt, and Arman fled the rock. He found the trailhead and scrambled back down to the clearing, carefully navigating the steep terrain so as not to fall to his death. Landing on the forest floor, however, he had no time for questions; he was greeted too quickly by joyous faces and kind words and outstretched hands that clapped his back and squeezed his shoulders and told him how
brave
he’d been. Arman did his best to stand tall in the face of such praise and admiration. These were things he definitely wasn’t used to and probably never would be. Hell, he’d only done what had been asked of him on Echo Rock because he was too scared not to. It’s not like that was
real
bravery.
    Was it?
    Then Beau was there. He emerged like a vision from the sea of strangers to throw an arm around Arman, to give him a hale pat and a hearty hug, and in the wake of his presence, Arman couldn’t help but feel good. Well, better, at least. Less frantic. More in control.
    â€œWonderful job up there, Arman. Really wonderful.” Beau grinned, and the light he held in his hand was the brightest of all: an old camping lantern, one powered not by batteries but by kerosene, its fat wick brazen with greasy flame-heat. “I knew you could do it. Now you know, too.”
    â€œThank you.” Arman squirmed. He hated to sound boastful but didn’t know what else to say.
    â€œYou ready for the walk back?” Beau asked.
    â€œI think so. But do I need my own light? I didn’t bring one.”
    â€œOf course you don’t need your own light,” Beau said. “You have ours.”
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    It took Arman a moment to realize what was happening. Actually, it took him a moment to realize anything was happening at all.
    Without a word, a group of maybe a dozen or so flashlight and candle and lantern holders—Beau included—slowly separated themselves from the crowd and began to surround Arman. In a deliberate sort of way. They moved in unison and linked their arms. They wrapped themselves around him and closed their human circle in tight, then tighter, until he was the sole point of darkness in the center of their light.
    Once formed, the circle began to move. Slow, deliberate steps. Like a walking wave. Their momentum pushed Arman along with them, herding him away from the clearing, back onto the trail.
    Arman hopped on his toes and looked around. He wasn’t the only one being separated from the group. Kira and Dale were also being corralled into their own glowing circles, along with all the other people who’d braved the climb to the top of Echo Rock and confessed their most-intimate truths. Each and every one of them