Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn

by Tracy A. Akers

  “Reiv! Reiv!” Kerrik came bounding up, his hair wet and plastered against his head, his feet frosted with sand. He grinned and flipped a large pink shell into the air. A bag filled with even more was clenched in his other hand. “You’ll not find one bigger than this, Reiv!” he said, beaming. “No sense in you even going out today.”

  Reiv’s mind scattered to retrieve a response to the challenge (and prepare for a defense of his rushing along with Cora in hand.) But he had no time to respond before Kerrik asked, “Are you two heading to the hut?”

  Reiv felt flustered. “Wha—I mean…uh…no, of course not,” he stammered.

  “We’re not?” Cora asked, turning her eyes to Reiv. “I thought it was either the hut or the bump, and we chose the hut.”

  Kerrik laughed. “What do you mean, bump?”

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps it is a Tearian term.” Cora tilted her head. “What did you mean by bump exactly, Reiv?”

  “I misspoke. That is all.” Reiv felt his throat go dry.

  “Well, I’m going to the hut whether you two are or not,” Kerrik said. “I’m thirsty.” He trenched up the sand toward home, leaving Reiv and Cora behind.

  Reiv folded his arms and stared at his feet. Then he lifted his eyes to Cora, surprised to see amusement on her face. He studied her, realizing he had never really looked at her that closely before. She was not what a typical Tearian would consider attractive, but neither was she an ordinary girl. Her hair was bleached stiff with sun and salt water, and though an attempt had been made to pin it, it sprang from her scalp like a spiky sea urchin. Her eyebrows were white, and her eyes green, or were they blue? It was hard to tell; the color of them seemed to vacillate like the shades of the sea. And her figure, so round, so feminine, so…Reiv felt his stomach flutter and his groin ache. He hated to admit it, but he quite liked the look of the girl.

  “Well,” he said, glancing at Kerrik in the distance. “I suppose we could go somewhere else.”

  Cora sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Reiv, but you’re too beautiful.”

  “Thank you, I think,” Reiv said awkwardly. He wasn’t sure he should be thanking her at all; girls didn’t usually say those things, did they?

  “I have to be honest with you,” Cora continued. “I do find you attractive, but there can be nothing between us.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I know what you were thinking when you grabbed my hand and started marching this direction. But all the while I was trying to think my way out of it.”

  “Think your way out of it? But you were the one that asked if you could join—”

  “If you’ll recall, that’s not exactly how the conversation went, and if I understand things correctly, there is a big difference between a hut and a bump. You really meant to say “bump”, didn’t you?”

  “No, of course not.” Reiv suddenly felt confused. The girl was twisting this all around, or maybe it was him doing the twisting. He readied a quick defense. “You are mistaken, Cora. I was only taking you for tea. I knew my aunt would be there, and now Kerrik of course. I—”

  Cora placed her fingers on his lips, silencing him. “Please, Reiv, do not try to explain. Thank you for inviting me, but I fear that for me you would just be a big shell.”

  “A big what?”

  “Shell. A big shell, Reiv.” Cora sighed again. “You and I are too different. You hunt for big shells, I hunt for small ones.”

  “I do not see the relevance in that distinction.”

  Cora pulled a necklace from around her neck and draped it around his. Then she kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Reiv, but it was not meant to be.” She turned and walked away.

  Reiv stared after her, his jaw slack. What had just happened here? What was not meant to be? And what was all this about him being a big shell? Was that better than being “the worst?” His skull ached. Gods, girls were so much trouble.

  He headed home, but the image of Cora stayed with him. He fingered the shell necklace she had placed around his neck, and lifted it to take a look. There were spires of peach-colored cockles and fan-shaped shells as transparent as tiny fingernails. There were swirls the hues of the sea and starburst shapes the color of the sun. He grinned in spite of himself.

  He entered the hut, muttering to no one in particular, and went about preparing a robust stew of mussels, shelled crab, and seaweed. Brina and Torin watched Reiv silently, the two of them obviously afraid to break the spell that had enchanted him. Finally Brina placed a hand on his forehead. “Are you feeling ill?” she asked. “You do not seem yourself.”

  “Very amusing,” Reiv said as he tossed another handful of seaweed into the pot. “I am quite myself, thank you. Now, you just sit down and drink some tea. This will not take long to cook.” He hung the pot on the spit over the fire pit and gave the stew a stir.

  “I think Reiv’s in love or something,” Kerrik said. “He didn’t even go in the water today. All because of that girl Cor-ra.”

  Torin’s usually rigid face perked up. “What’s that? Cora?” he said. “Buxom Cora?”

  “Torin—please—the boy,” Brina said, motioning her eyes in Kerrik’s direction.

  “What’s wrong with buxom?” Kerrik asked.

  “Nothing,” Reiv said sharply. “And I will have no more talk of it in Cora’s regard.”

  All went quiet.

  Jensa swept through the drape and into the hut. She stopped, surveying the group that was now sitting in awkward silence, then turned her attention to Reiv who was pouring refills into mugs.

  “What’s going on?” she asked suspiciously. “Why is Reiv cooking?”

  “Gods, you all act like you have never seen me cook before,” Reiv said.

  “We haven’t,” a round of voices replied.

  “It seems a girl named Cora has left Reiv feeling somewhat domestic today,” Torin said.

  “A girl?” Jensa said, shocked. “But—but what about—”

  Reiv’s eyes darted to hers.

  “Alicine?”

  “Listen, I was with Cora barely any time at all. We spoke less than a dozen words. But even if I had brought her here and had my way with her—”

  “Reiv please…not in front of Kerrik,” Brina said.

  Reiv’s annoyance flared. “At the pace I am going, Kerrik will know the touch of a woman before I will!”

  “He’s right you know,” Kerrik said. “There are plenty of girls who like me.”

  “See…even a seven-year-old has better luck with the women!” Reiv said. He threw the ladle into the pot, sending the stew splattering. “I am tired of being surrounded by people all the time. I was a royal, a prince accustomed to having his own room, then his own apartment. Now I live in a one room hut with four other people and I never have a moment’s privacy!”

  “What are you saying?” Brina asked, rising to face him.

  “I am saying I want my own place!”

  Reiv wheeled toward the doorway.

  “Reiv!” Brina called after him.

  But he continued on, determined not to listen to a word of protest, determined not to waste any energy arguing about it. He had plans to make, a hut of his own to build. But even more importantly, there was a girl named Cora to consider. She had tickled his senses and toyed with his mind; she had sent desires to the primitive regions of his body, then had simply walked away, calling him a big shell, or some such nonsense. He refused to accept her rejection or her excuses. Why should he? After all, he had been born a prince; he had even transcended to the gods. No, no girl would call him a big shell and get away with it. He could be as small as the next man. And he intended to prove it.

  Back to ToC

  Chapter 10: Guilty Secrets

  Reiv tromped across the sand in the direction of his only sanctuary, a calm inlet pool bordered by a semi-circular wall of glistening rocks and pocked coral. On the other side of it waves crashed, sending sprays of water fountaining into the air, then settling in fine mi
sts upon the pool. It was the perfect place for Reiv to contemplate the problems of the world. For a while now he had been considering his future, or trying to, and this was the only private place he knew of. Kerrik had introduced him to it when Reiv had first arrived in Meirla. Back then, Reiv had been about as far from being a Shell Seeker as any person could be. As a prince, he’d had plenty of opportunities to swim, but in Tearia the pools were free of sea creatures, and you could always see your feet at the bottom. When Kerrik first took him to the pool to teach him to dive, it had been more than a little intimidating. There were crabs and fish, and salt water that stung his eyes and tasted bitter on his lips. Over time, Reiv grew to love the swift currents and dark recesses of the sea. But it was the calm of the pool that always drew him back.

  As he approached, he heard voices followed by laughter just over the rise. The pool was on the other side of it, and he wondered if someone had dared make his private sanctuary their own. He crept to the top, crouching in an attempt to stay hidden from view. In an instant he spotted Cora, and he dropped to all fours. He crawled across the sand until he was safely concealed behind a large clump of shore grass.

  Cora had been in Reiv’s thoughts ever since his mind boggling conversation with her that morning. He’d seen her only once since then, and that had been from a carefully calculated distance. He was determined not to speak with her, yet there were a thousand things he wanted to say. He was not sure if he was performing the ritual properly, he had never played such games as a prince, but people usually wanted what they could not have, so he hoped his pretended disinterest would make her realize she had made a mistake in his regard. He and Alicine had acted out a similar version, but they’d never ignored each other entirely; circumstances had not allowed it. As he thought back on it now, he recalled how the romantic misunderstanding with Alicine had left him feeling like a fool. His cheeks burned at the recollection. He could ill afford to let that happen again—especially with Cora.

  Reiv ground his teeth as he peeked over the rise toward the pool. What was he doing groveling in the sand like this? Where was his pride? Cora was just a girl, a girl like any other. But he knew that wasn’t the reason he was hiding behind a clump of vegetation. That strutting rooster Lyal was with her, and Reiv felt the raging need to spy on them.

  Cora was swimming in the pool, paddling slowly as she skimmed across the water. Lyal was on the shoreline, walking along it as he followed her from one side to the other. He said something to her, and she laughed and rolled onto her back, floating backwards. She was clothed, but even through the distance Reiv could see there was no real point in it; her peach-colored skin was clearly visible beneath her clingy attire. Reiv felt jealousy rise to his throat as he watched Lyal’s lusty eyes roam over her. What right did that arrogant stud have to be in Reiv’s place of solitude? What right did he have to look at Cora like that?

  “That’s not his sister, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Torin’s amused voice said.

  Reiv jerked his head over his shoulder to see Torin towering behind him. “Shhhh! Get down,” he whispered. “Do you want them to see you?”

  Torin chuckled, but got down as instructed and lay on his belly next to Reiv. “What have I missed?”

  “Nothing to miss.”

  “Why are we hiding then?”

  “We are not hiding!”

  Torin raised a brow. “So we are prone on the sand because…?”

  Reiv scowled. “Fine. I saw Lyal arguing with Jensa this morning. I just wanted to see what he was up to. That is all.”

  “No interest in Cora, I suppose?”

  “Of course not. Why should I care?”

  “Because she’s an attractive girl,” Torin said. “You could do worse for a mate.”

  “I am not looking for a mate,” Reiv snapped.

  “I thought you wanted a hut of your own. Young Shell Seeker men normally stay with their families until they are ready to start one of their own. You are clearly thinking in that direction. I would suggest—”

  “I do not think I need advice from a man who shows no interest in women,” Reiv retorted.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Torin asked.

  Reiv hesitated. Maybe he should not have said anything. It was Torin’s business if his attentions did not turn in that direction. “Nothing. I have just never seen you with a girl, and you are attractive enough.”

  The veins in Torin’s neck bulged. “Are you implying that I’m attracted to men?”

  Reiv wished he had just kept his own mouth shut. “I am sorry. I did not mean to offend.”

  Torin leapt up, red-faced. “I have known the touch of a woman,” he said heatedly. “Can you say the same?”

  It was then Reiv’s turn to leap up. “Gods, Torin! Do you want them to hear us?”

  Torin leaned in threateningly. “Take back what you said.”

  Reiv glanced toward the pool, then back at Torin. “Fine, I retract my words. We will speak of it no more. Satisfied?” Torin spun and stormed away, leaving Reiv to stare after him.

  Reiv's conscience scrambled for an excuse, but then he realized, perhaps he was wrong about Torin, but Torin sure wasn’t wrong about him. He returned his attention to Cora and Lyal, but his mind was no longer on the subjects of his spying eyes. The argument with Torin was gnawing at him, and he couldn’t help but cringe at the callousness of his own remarks. He and Torin already had an uneasy friendship, and this certainly wasn’t going to help things any. Perhaps if he offered the man an apology, said it like he meant it. But he knew Torin’s acceptance wasn’t likely, at least not until Reiv had suffered enough.

  Reiv plodded down the beach, rehearsing various versions of what he might say. Before long he found himself well past the village. He gazed out toward the horizon. The late afternoon sun was growing dim behind a bank of clouds moving in from the north. He sighed and turned back, then quickened his pace toward the icy reception he knew was awaiting him.

  As Reiv approached the hut, he noticed Jensa and Torin arguing beneath a nearby palm. Their voices were rising and falling with obvious emotion, and for a moment Reiv wondered if it involved his earlier altercation with Torin. It occurred to him that maybe it had something to do with Dayn and Alicine; they had departed from Meirla over two weeks ago, and Reiv knew their journey to Kirador was a dangerous one. Could word of tragedy have filtered back so soon? Fear mushroomed in his throat as he hurried toward them. He dreaded whatever news there might be, but couldn’t wait another moment before knowing it.

  Torin did not see Reiv approaching; his face was buried in his fists.

  “What is wrong?” Reiv asked upon reaching them. “It is not Dayn and Alicine, is it?”

  Torin raised his eyes to him, and Reiv was shocked to realize they were red with tears.

  “No, Reiv,” Jensa said. “It’s Farris. He’s dying, and now Mya has fallen ill also.”

  “Gods,” Reiv replied. His chest felt as if it had suffered a blow. Farris was only nine, a clever, inquisitive boy, and Mya’s only son. Reiv had spent a brief time with them in Pobu, and now regretted the last words he’d said to the child had been a lie.

  “What of Mya’s girls?” Reiv asked.

  “No sign of sickness in them yet,” Jensa said. “Torin wants to go to them, but Nannaven will not have it.”

  “But why?” Reiv asked. “He could help look after them until…”

  “Nannaven sent word that the fever is spreading. A messenger came bearing the news about Farris and Mya, but kept a safe distance. He was told not to come near the village. We need to call a clan meeting as soon as possible. Nannaven fears the sickness will spread to Meirla and wants travel between us to cease.”

  “Well, I don’t care what she wants!” Torin said. “I will be at their sides no matter what she orders.”

  “You cannot risk yourself, Torin,” Jensa said. “If Mya and Farris are ill, there is nothing you can do. Nannaven will take care of them until they are better.”
/>   “And if they don’t get better?” Torin said.

  “Of course they will,” Reiv offered.

  “How can you be certain?” Torin said. “Word is that people are dying in droves. The dead are being piled upon pyres.” He shook his head. “No. I will be there for Mya and I will see that Farris is held in my arms before he is returned to the earth!”

  Torin pivoted toward the hut, but Reiv grabbed him by an arm, stopping him short. “Torin, think what you are saying. Mya would not want you to risk yourself, not for her or for Farris.”

  Torin jerked his arm away. “My son is dying, Reiv. This may be the last chance I have to tell him I love him.”

  Reiv took a startled step back. “Your son?”

  “Yes. My son. Would you keep me from him now?”

  “No, of course not. I—I did not know.”

  “It is not something we speak of.”

  “What of Eben? Did he know?” Reiv asked, wondering if Mya’s recently deceased husband had been a willing participant in the deception.

  New regret swept Torin’s features. “Eben was a good father to Farris. That is all that matters.” Then he turned and continued toward the hut.

  “What about Kerrik?” Reiv asked, struggling to keep pace.

  “He does not yet know about Farris, though he always suspected my affection for Mya”

  “How is he going to handle you leaving like this?”

  “He will understand,” Torin said.

  “Understand what?” Kerrik asked from the doorway.

  Jensa rounded Torin to scoot Kerrik back inside. “Torin is taking a little trip to New Pobu,” she said. “It is none of your concern.”

  But the boy would have nothing of it. He planted his feet in front of Torin, barring his path. “Why are you going, Torin? Why?”