Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light (37 page)

“Leaving?” Dayn staggered up from his
blanket. “What do you mean, leaving? Where are you going?”

“I am going with Jensa to Meirla. She invited
me to stay with her, and I think I should.”

Dayn took a step toward him. “You’re leaving
us? Just like that?”

Reiv sat up, poised for a debate. “No, not
just like that. You must understand, I do not belong here and . .
.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I have no skills, Dayn.
Nothing I can offer here. Anyway, Jensa—”

“Jensa!” Dayn interrupted. “What sort of
skills does
she
offer you?”

Reiv stood and faced him. “She has offered to
teach me how to hunt for shells. At least there I can earn my keep.
Here I will be nothing but a burden.”

“You are going with Jensa?” Alicine asked,
rising from her place. Both boys wheeled to face her.

“I think it is for the best,” Reiv said.

“But things could be different here,” she
said. “You haven’t given it enough time.”

“No!” Reiv said. “I have made my decision and
will not discuss it further. I leave in the morning.” He threw
himself down onto his bedroll and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fine, then, leave!” Alicine said, her anger
ignited. “I don’t care. Go to your precious Jensa. I’m sure she has
much more to offer. Besides, we won’t be here that much longer
either.” With that she, too, threw herself upon her mat and turned
her back to him.

Reiv sat back up. “What do you mean you will
not be here much longer?” he asked with alarm, but Alicine ignored
him. Reiv turned to Dayn. “What does she mean? You are leaving? Not
back to Kirador. Not so soon.”

“I promised Alicine I would take her home. I
can’t make her stay forever, Reiv. She doesn’t belong here.”

“You cannot simply walk back to Kirador. It
is too dangerous. Plans would have to be made. Precautions taken.”
Reiv’s voice was stern. “No. Impossible. You cannot do this.”

“We are not leaving tomorrow as you are,”
Dayn said dryly. “We know plans will have to be made. But don’t
worry about us, cousin. When the time is right, I’ll take my sister
home. By then you’ll be a Shell Seeker and will have forgotten
about us anyway.”

Dayn marched to his bedroll, threw himself
down, and pulled the blanket up over his ears. No one spoke or
moved for the rest of the night.

* * * *

The next morning Alicine awoke at the first
hint of daylight and looked in the direction of Reiv’s bedding.
Both he and it were gone.

“Dayn, wake up!” she shouted as she ran past
him toward the ladder leading to the kitchen below. She nearly lost
her footing as she hurried down the rungs that were damp with
morning dew. The speed of her feet did not seem adequate for the
urgency of her task. She jumped past the last two rungs and twirled
toward the door, then stopped, breathless and flush-faced.

Reiv was leaning against the doorframe,
watching the morning sun creep over the horizon. In his hands, once
again covered by gloves, he held a mug of tea. His bedroll and a
knapsack were on the floor by the wall. He turned to acknowledge
Alicine who stared at him with her mouth agape.

“Did you think I would leave without saying
goodbye?” he asked.

“No. Well, yes,” Alicine stammered. “I
thought you might.” She shoved a strand of wayward hair behind her
ear.

Reiv looked into the last dregs of tea that
floated at the bottom of the mug. He tilted it as he studied the
remaining bits of leaf. “You know, they say Nannaven can read the
leaves. Maybe she could tell me my future.” He walked into the
kitchen and set the mug on the table.

“I think she would say you have a very good
future,” Alicine said.

Reiv shook his head. “I doubt—”

But before he could finish, a barely awake
Dayn came sliding down the ladder, his face creased with the folds
of the blanket he had lain upon. He hit the ground hard and his
legs almost went out from under him. “What’s going on?” he
sputtered, rubbing his puffy eyes in an attempt to focus them.
“You’re not leaving now are you?”

“I am ready to go. As you see there was
little packing for me to do.” Reiv motioned to the bedroll and
knapsack. “Nannaven let me keep the bedroll and was kind enough to
give me a water pouch and some food. Otherwise all I have is this.”
He tugged the material of his tunic.

“Where is Nannaven?” Alicine asked.

Reiv shrugged. “She left right after I got
up. Said something about letting things play out. I did not
understand what she meant. But then again I rarely do. She always
speaks in riddles.”

“And Jensa?” Alicine asked.

“She is with her. Said she would wait for me
down the road a piece, so we could say our farewells here
privately.”

“Jensa’s not even going to say goodbye to
us?” Dayn exclaimed, wounded that the Shell Seeker had disregarded
their friendship so easily.

“She will be back; we will both be back. Next
month, at Market time,” Reiv said.

“Do you really have to go?” Alicine said. “I
still don’t understand why.”

“I swear I would not if I did not have to,
but you must realize this is right for me. In a day’s time you both
found ways to earn your keep: Dayn, you at the smithy, and Alicine,
you with the Spirit Keeper. Do you recall what I said when Nannaven
asked me what skills I had?”

Neither responded.

“I said nothing, because there is nothing.”
He laughed. “Oh, I know how to wield a sword. Not much use in a
place where they are banned. And, yes, I am particularly gifted at
ordering Jecta around, a valuable talent in a place where I have no
authority.” His smile faded. “No, the only skills I have, the trade
of my father and his fathers before him, are of no consequence
here.”

“But you could learn something,” Alicine
insisted. “Someone could teach you.”

“Teach me what? And who?” Reiv’s voice rose.
“No one wants me here, Alicine. Do you not yet understand that I am
not welcome.”

“But you are welcome,” Dayn said. “Nannaven
cares about you, and you know Alicine and I do.”

Reiv folded his arms and looked at his feet.
“Listen, I told you I would get you to Pobu. I never said I would
stay.”

“But you made us think you would,” Alicine
said. “It was just another one of your lies wasn’t it.”

“Fine, Alicine,” Reiv said. “I am a liar.
Does that satisfy you?” He whipped around and grabbed the bedroll
and knapsack, then moved hastily toward the door.

“Don’t go,” she cried. “Please. We need
you.”

Reiv stopped, but did not turn to face her.
“What is it you need of me?”

“We need to know why you’re really
leaving.”

“I told you. There is no reason for me to
stay.”

“No reason to stay? We’re not reason enough
for you? You drive me mad, Reiv, I swear. First you accost us in a
field and practically kill Dayn. Then you drag us into Tearia,
accusing us of thievery. You have shouted at us, threatened us,
called us names, but is that enough for you? No. Then you feed us,
clothe us, risk your life for us, only to turn on us by deserting
us. By your gods, Reiv, what is wrong with you?”

Reiv turned and looked at Alicine, a pillar
of fury, then at Dayn, standing mute to the side. “Nothing,” he
said, “and everything.”

He stepped outside the door, then paused and
looked over his shoulder at Dayn. “Goodbye, little cousin. I will
come back to see you both soon, I promise.” Then to Alicine, “I
kept the lotion you made. I hope you do not mind.” He held up the
knapsack, indicating it was there.

“No,” she said, “I made it for you, to help
you feel better.”

“It did make me feel better. Very much.” He
blinked back the emotion in his eyes and forced a smile. “I will
see you soon—at Market.” His gaze lingered on Alicine a moment
longer, then he headed down the path that led from the house.

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Chapter 22: Difficult Lessons

I
t had been over
three hours since Reiv and Jensa departed Pobu, and Reiv had
expected them to be in Meirla long before this. It was not that
they were not making good time; the well-trod road wound pleasantly
downward through the foothills that sloped from the city to the
sea. The greens of the landscape had long since changed to the
dull, scruffy browns of a more salt-loving fauna, and while it gave
Reiv hope they would reach their destination soon, his feelings
were torn as to whether or not he actually wanted to. As he played
the probable reception he would receive in Meirla over in his mind,
it occurred to him that he had probably only jumped from the waters
of Nannaven’s stew pot into the sacrificial fires of the mysterious
Shell Seekers.

“Gods. How much further?” Reiv grumbled. “I
had no idea it would take so long.”

“Are you never satisfied?” Jensa said.

“My apologies for asking.”

“If you would watch your words more
carefully,” Jensa said, “you wouldn’t have to apologize so
often.”

“So I have begun to realize.”

“Well, in answer to your question, it’s just
over the rise there.” Jensa flashed him a look of warning. “But
you’d best watch that mouth of yours, and your temper. My brother
Kerrik wants nothing more than to be a warrior and will have little
tolerance for the likes of you.”

Reiv felt a case of nerves take hold of his
gut at the thought of what awaited him, and suddenly found it
necessary to excuse himself into the shrubberies. After some time
he returned, refusing to meet Jensa’s amused stare. He slung his
pack over his shoulder. “Well, what are we waiting for?” he
snapped. “Let us get on with it.”

They continued on in silence until they
reached a rise providing a scenic view of the waters in the
distance. Jensa stopped and pointed a finger toward the shoreline.
There a tawny landscape merged with white sand that wrapped the
teals of the shallows like a bright, rippling ribbon.

“There, you see? Almost there,” she said.

Reiv gazed out, the warm sea air whipping his
hair, the saltiness of it settling on his lips. The vast ocean
seemed enchanting, almost magical. He had only seen it once in his
life, and that had been when he was very young. It seemed odd, even
to him, that a prince whose family actually owned the sea rarely
ventured to it. But most of the coastline was rocky and
impenetrable, and even the accessible areas were of a violent
nature, with dangerous tides and flesh-tearing rocks, and evil
creatures that lurked beneath the surface. The Shell Seekers had
always harvested the seas for their masters, so there was no point
in the Tearians going there.

“The water is so beautiful,” Reiv said,
surprised by it.

“Don’t be deceived by its beauty,” Jensa
said. “It’s treacherous, but it gives us a living.”

“Where is the village?”

“There. Don’t you see it?”

Reiv squinted his eyes and scanned the
mottled shoreline. At first he saw only sand and water, but then a
scurry of movement caught his eye, and he realized he was looking
straight at it. The beach was dotted with palms, and the roofs of
the huts huddled beneath them were made from their fronds and
formed into the same star-like shapes. It was only the barely
detectable movement of people that revealed the place to be a
living village. Reiv found himself smiling, but his elation
dissipated. “Is there anything I should know before I get there? I
mean, will it be the same as Pobu?”

“Does it look like Pobu?”

“Well, no, but I mean, the Shell Seekers are
still—”

“Still what? Jecta? We are Jecta only to the
Tearians,” Jensa said crisply. “We are Shell Seekers.”

She marched onward, and Reiv hurried after
her. “Please, I did not mean to offend. I only meant do your people
hate me as much as the Jecta do?”

Jensa spun to face him. “Hate you? What
reason would they have to hate you?”

Reiv took a step back, startled by the
acerbity of her tone.

“After all,” she continued, “it is by the
generosity of your family that we are allowed to hunt in your seas,
is it not? Of course, we cannot keep much for ourselves. Only that
which we make from crafting the shells, and the pittance we get for
bringing the best fish to Market. We could just steal them from the
sea and keep it for ourselves. Who would ever know?” Jensa eyed him
darkly. “Well, I’ll tell you who would know. The spies who would
betray us for a bit of Tearian coin pressed into their palm! Now in
answer to your original question—”

“Never mind,” Reiv said, “your point is well
taken.” He said nothing more as they walked down the hill toward
the village, choosing to follow several paces behind her in silence
instead.

As they drew nearer, the old familiar feeling
of being led to an execution returned. Curious faces turned in his
and Jensa’s direction, and distant voices shouted as groups of
villagers rushed from huts and various corners of the place. Reiv
cringed and prayed they were all just happy to see Jensa. But he
knew it was his blaring head of red that was what they were all
pointing at.

He forced his eyes to Jensa’s back instead of
toward the gaping faces that surrounded them, but a determined
movement fast approaching diverted his attention. He sucked in his
breath and felt his body go tense. Storming up the path toward them
was a man with dark flashing eyes, his expression not merely that
of anger, but of pure fury. The man’s hands were balled into fists
at his side, and his hostility shimmered off his muscular body like
heat off the sand.

“Is that Kerrik?” Reiv asked, his face
blushing at the realization his voice had cracked in the
asking.

“No,” Jensa replied. “That is Torin, my other
brother. He does not cause near the trouble Kerrik does.”

Reiv stopped in his tracks, hesitant to take
another step. But then he forced a foot forward and prepared
himself for the blow to his face that was surely coming.