Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light (39 page)

Reiv felt the blood drain from his face. “We
are going out there?” he asked.

“Yes, but today we’ll start closer in, though
we may not find many shells.”

Reiv paced along the water’s edge, eyeing it
with consternation. A wave pushed its way in and lapped at his
feet. He jumped back.

“It’s not cold, come on!” Kerrik said,
bounding into the water. He turned and motioned to Reiv who was
still pacing back and forth. “Come on! What are you waiting
for?”

Reiv put in a foot and pulled it back,
shaking his head. The water was not cold; it was in fact quite
warm. But as it wrapped around his feet, it seemed to him like a
living thing, its gritty fingers reaching out to pull him into the
murky depths.

Kerrik plodded his way through the water and
back to shore where he stopped before his reluctant pupil. “Can’t
you
swim
?” he asked.

“Of course I can! But . . . well . . .
actually . . . I have never swum in water so deep as this, and I
have certainly never been in water so—so—” Reiv didn’t know how to
finish the sentence without sounding like a complete idiot.

“So . . . what?” Kerrik asked.

“I just do not like it. That is all.”

“Well, then, how are you going to hunt for
shells? You don’t want to be a baby, do you? You don’t want
everyone laughing at you, do you?”

“No, but...”

“I thought princes were brave,” Kerrik said.
He sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to tell Torin and Jensa that
you’re scared.”

The image of Torin’s laughing, smirking face
flashed into Reiv’s mind. “Oh, very well, I will learn to dive, but
you had best teach me to swim better first. Is there someplace
where the waters are a bit calmer?”

Kerrik’s expression brightened. “I know just
the place! There’s a pool near the rocks a ways down and no one
will see us, unless they really try. We can do it there.”

They headed down the shoreline and made their
way between the craggy rocks that lay tumbled along it. Kerrik
hopped across them easily, oblivious to their jags and razor-sharp
edges. Reiv, however, picked his way cautiously along, frequently
stopping to inspect his feet, fully expecting to see blood leaking
out of them. After some time, they reached the pool, a reserve of
calm surrounded by boulders against which the sea pounded
thunderously. A great crashing wave occasionally sent a spray of
water over the pool, settling upon them in a fine mist. But the
pool itself was calm and not too deep and would suit their needs
well enough.

Reiv waded in as instructed and stared down
through the clear water. The sand felt gritty as it crunched and
shifted beneath his weight. Tiny, silver fish darted about his
ankles and nipped at his toes. An orange-shelled crab sauntered
slowly alongside him. He didn’t like the strange creatures at all.
He kicked a foot toward the fish and moved in the other direction
of the crab.

“They won’t hurt you,” Kerrik said, noting
Reiv’s look of discomfort.

“Oh, I know. I just do not wish to harm
them,” Reiv lied. In truth, he wouldn’t have minded if the crab was
good and dead.

From that point on Reiv practiced putting his
face, then his head, then his whole body under the water. He kept
his feet firmly planted in the sand, ducking under in a sort of
squat. But that plan did not go well as the buoyancy of his body
jeopardized his balance, and he soon found himself struggling back
up. During one such attempt he felt something brush across his
cheek. He reacted to it with a gasp, not a good idea under water he
quickly learned. He pushed up frantically, coughing and gagging and
throwing up salt water. It burned his throat and left a bitter
taste in his mouth, and his belly felt sick afterward, but Kerrik,
who seemed to possess a sort of ruthlessness as a teacher, would
allow him no rest, insisting he go back under as soon as he had
recovered.

Eventually Reiv floated face down and stroked
his arms back and forth as he paddled across the water. He learned
to ignore the fact that he was sharing the pond with pinching claws
and sharp fins. It helped that he didn’t open his eyes, but then he
was told he would have to do that as well. A Shell Seeker would
find few shells with his eyes closed.

The first time Reiv opened his eyes under
water they stung and felt as if someone had thrown a handful of
sand into them, prompting him to wonder how in the world he would
ever get used to it. For a moment he considered giving up his
foolish attempt at being something he obviously could not. But then
he forced his eyes to stay open and saw the fishes swimming in
their synchronized dances, and the crab meandering across the sand,
its beady-black eyes turned up to him in mutual curiosity. He began
to feel somewhat of an appreciation for the strange creatures and
found himself thinking that perhaps he could become a Shell Seeker
after all.

They practiced for hours, floating and diving
and competing with each other for who could hold their breath the
longest. Kerrik always won, of course, but with each attempt Reiv
increased his time, and before long he became bound and determined
to win, though he never did. After a while they took themselves to
the beach to rest.

“I think you’re ready to go to the deeper
water,” Kerrik said. “Maybe tomorrow. We won’t go out too far
though. It’s harder with the waves, but even if you’re not so good
with strokes, at least you can float. But first I need to tell you
about the snakes.”

Reiv sat up quickly. “The snakes? You mean
the sea snakes? Oh gods, I forgot about the sea snakes. Surely we
will not be swimming with them! Do they attack? What happens
if—”

“Yes,” Kerrik said.

“Yes what?” Reiv asked, his voice squeaking
somewhat.

“Yes, I’m talking about the sea snakes. Yes,
we’ll be swimming with them. And yes, they’ll attack if you make
them mad.”

Kerrik seemed indifferent, and for a moment
Reiv could only stare at him, his satisfaction at the day’s
accomplishments washed out with the tide.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of snakes, too,”
Kerrik said. “Well, you better get used to them. They live out
there and there’s no way to avoid them. Don’t worry. I’ll protect
you.”

The boy who seemed so childlike when they’d
first met had taken on a maturity beyond his years since they had
begun their lessons. He now spoke about diving with snakes as if he
had been doing it for a hundred years.

“How old
are
you?” Reiv asked.

“Why, I’m seven!” Kerrik replied.

“Seven? And how long have you been diving for
shells?”

The boy twisted his mouth and rolled his eyes
to the sky as he worked it out. “Three years . . . ever since I was
four.”

“Four! Gods, they let a four-year-old dive
with snakes?”

“I told you, only the babies pick up the
shells on the shore. Don’t worry, Reiv. The snakes are not so big.
But there is
one
—” Kerrik sat up, suddenly alert, and his
eyes took on a look of wonder. “I’m going to slay it one day. Then
I’ll be the most famous Shell Seeker ever known!”

“How big is this snake exactly?” Reiv
asked.

“Oh, it’s
huge
!” Kerrik jumped up and
spread his arms out wide. “It’s longer than anything! It’s
Seirgotha, the most evil creature in all the deep.” Then he began
the story, his face full of animation, every limb moving in the
telling of the tale.

“It is she who stirs the waters and makes the
whirlpools that would swallow us and the tides that would drag us
out to sea. And she has magic in her, for she can disguise herself
and no one ever sees her until it is too late. Legend says she will
someday show herself and try to take us all down into the depths.
But
then
a great warrior will slay her, and because of his
bravery the warrior will be given power by the gods. It’s said the
warrior will be given great knowledge and with it he can save
everyone.” Kerrik paused and fixed his face with determination. “I
will be that warrior. I will slay her, and then I’ll know how to
heal!”

The initial fear of the huge snake evaporated
from Reiv’s mind. He could not help but smile at the boy whose tiny
body was poised for battle with an imaginary sea monster. “Perhaps
you will slay it, Kerrik,” he said. “Perhaps you truly will.”

Kerrik grinned. “Oh, I
will
,” he
said.

“You certainly have your brother’s and
sister’s feisty temperaments.”

“Oh, Torin and Jensa are not my real brother
and sister.”

“No?”

“No, my parents are Tearian, but they
couldn’t keep me because of my foot.” He looked down at it and
shrugged. “I don’t see why though. It doesn’t bother me at all, and
I wouldn’t have been any trouble.”

For a moment Reiv’s heart went out to him,
but then he realized the boy did not seem terribly upset by it, so
he held off saying any words of sympathy. “What brought you to this
place, then?”

“Brina saved me and then she took me to
Nannaven and then she took me to Jensa and Torin.”

“Brina? Saved you?”

“Yes, she saves lots of babies,” Kerrik said
matter-of-factly. Then he noticed the startled expression on Reiv’s
face. “Didn’t you know that?”

“No. I did not.”

“Well, anyway, that’s why I want to slay
Seirgotha and become a great healer. Because that way I can make
people well and the babies, too, and then people won’t have to give
them away. Then everyone will be happy and no one will be sick or
sad anymore. That’s what I want more than anything!”

Reiv stared out silently toward the horizon,
contemplating the boy’s noble words. For the first time in his life
he felt a twinge of guilt at having ever been called Tearian.

Kerrik eyed him curiously. “Are you all
right? You look funny.” Then he glanced in the direction of Reiv’s
gaze. “It’s getting late. We’d better go home now. Jensa gets
really mad if anyone’s late for dinner, and if you think Torin’s
got a temper . . .”

Reiv pushed himself up. “Well, I certainly do
not wish to meet that temper tonight.”

They trudged toward the village, or rather
Reiv trudged while Kerrik hopped along. Reiv’s muscles were
beginning to stiffen and his eyes and skin were starting to sting.
By the time they reached the hut, his lids were swollen and his
back had erupted in blisters.

Jensa gasped at the sight of him. “Gods,
Kerrik, why didn’t you rub some kohl around his eyes,” she
exclaimed.

“He wouldn’t let me,” the boy cried.

“And his back!” She walked around Reiv in a
circle, eyeing him up and down. “We have lotions you could have put
on him.”

“He said he was used to the sun,” Kerrik
insisted. “He said his skin always looked white.”

Torin laughed from where he sat at the work
bench. “Well, he’s not so white now,” he said, clearly enjoying the
Prince’s discomfort.

Reiv went to contort his face with
displeasure, but found it too painful to move. Jensa ordered him
over to a stool, then pulled out a jar of salve and lathered him
all over with it. He winced and groaned as she rubbed it across his
swollen lids and tender back.

“I told you you’d regret it,” Kerrik
mumbled.

“He’s going to get sun poisoning,” Jensa
said.

She mixed up some water with a powdered herb
and ordered Reiv to drink it. He complied, all the while insisting
he was fine. But after he ate and laid down on his mat for the
night, he was overtaken by chills and a deep, painful itch that
tore at every inch of his flesh. He got no sleep at all, and
neither did anyone else.

* * * *

In the weeks that followed Reiv became a much
better swimmer. Though he was still not as adept as he needed to
be, he had begun to dive to the deeper rocks. The first time he
emerged with a shell, he strutted up and down the beach as though
he had discovered a great jewel. Kerrik laughed and clapped and
danced around him with glee. As the boy had said, there were indeed
sea snakes. But Reiv learned to avoid dark crags in the rocks where
they liked to hide and knew to move cautiously when near them. In
time he grew accustomed to the snakes as well as to the multitude
of other sea animals that shared the waters, just as his skin grew
accustomed to the sun, and his eyes to the salt water.

He also became more comfortable with wearing
kohl, not only because it did indeed protect his eyes from the
glare, but also because he noticed the girls in the village paid
him more attention with the kohl than without. The black smudged
around his eyes seemed to accentuate the rare and beautiful color
of them, and Jensa, convinced his eyes were his best feature, began
to experiment with marking the kohl around them in various
patterns. He allowed her to do so, mainly because all the other
boys his age had some signature design on their faces. Before long
Jensa settled on a pattern that was unique. Reiv tested the waters,
so to speak, by strolling casually through the village, intent on
seeing what reaction he might get to Jensa’s artwork. Much to his
delight, many a feminine head turned and smiled in his direction.
Thereafter, he was never without his kohl.

By the third week he seemed to have become
more accepted by the villagers, though the young women had warmed
up to him much more quickly than the men. Torin was still cool
toward him and avoided confrontations only by avoiding him
altogether. Jensa, on the other hand, invited Reiv to accompany her
whenever possible and introduced him to many female Shell Seekers.
After a while he became suspicious and joked that she was trying to
get rid of him by marrying him off to the first girl that came
along. She responded to his jests with denials, but the sly grin on
her lips told him he wasn’t too far off.

Torin went to Pobu two days out of every
week, but rarely came home with anything other than news. When he
returned, he always reported to Jensa, speaking directly to her
whether the news concerned Reiv or not. But this week Torin had not
made his usual trip—Market was but two days away—and a Jecta
messenger had come seeking him out.