Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn

by Tracy A. Akers

  On the sixth day, having had little sleep, Reiv felt the overwhelming need for fresh air and sunshine. Brina had slept most of the morning, and for now showed little sign of waking. He rose and stepped through the low portal of the hut, disappointed to see a sky gray with clouds. It was only mid-day, and the breeze felt warm against his skin, but that did not mean colder air was not being ushered in behind it. He eyed the pelts hanging nearby. They were not yet cured, but if the weather grew bleak, there would be little choice but to wear them.

  Jensa approached. “How is Brina today?” she asked.

  “The same,” he replied.

  “I brought her some broth,” she said, nodding to a gourd she was holding.

  “I will take it to her,” Reiv said.

  “No. You need to get out for a while. I’ll take it.”

  “I would rather you not go in there.”

  Jensa huffed. “I was around her for days before you even knew she was ill. If I am going to get the fever, then I probably already have.”

  Reiv frowned and held out his hand, but Jensa moved the gourd from his reach. “I said I will take it.”

  “Do not be ridiculous,” Reiv said.

  “Listen,” Jensa said, attempting a reasonable tone. “There were others sick when we arrived, but not near as many as when we left Meirla. Most are already up and walking about. I think the fever has run its course. I’m sure Brina will be well in no time.”

  “I cannot take that chance.”

  “Well, I can!” Jensa said. And with that she stepped away from him and ducked into the hut.

  Reiv’s shoulders tensed, then slumped with resignation. In truth, he was too tired to argue with her or anyone else. He gazed toward the trees rising along the slope beyond the hut and headed in that direction. Before long he found himself in a small clearing nestled beneath an overhang of firs. It was dotted with decaying tree stumps, but it was also blanketed with golden grasses and yellow wildflowers. He walked amongst them, examining each one, hoping to find Frusensias or something similar. Since arriving, he had asked everyone to keep an eye out for the white flowering herb. If he could just find a handful, perhaps it would be enough to concoct a potion similar to the one that Alicine and Nannaven had made for Kerrik. Thus far, no Frusensias had been found, but even if they had, Nannaven was dead and Alicine was gone. And only they knew the formula for such a brew.

  He plopped upon the grass and leaned his back against an old tree trunk, pondering the tribulations he had been through, and those which Brina was going through still. He could not bear the thought of her suffering, could not fathom the idea of losing her. Ever since he had been little, she had been his ally. When his own mother had given him no love, Brina had provided him with more than he deserved. As a result, she was more to him than an aunt, more to him than a friend. She was his mother in all but the biological sense of the word. He knew there was only one way to save her. But to do so meant he would have to leave her. Did he possess the strength to go through with it? And was it the right thing to do? He closed his eyes, playing various plans over and over in his mind. Something had to be done. Something…

  He was awakened by light flickering behind his eyelids and the tantalizing smell of broth under his nose. He squinted at the ball of fire hovering over him, then raised an arm to block the glare.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” Jensa said quietly. She leaned the torch against a rock. “I brought you a blanket and something to eat.”

  “Why? What time is it?” Reiv mumbled, realizing he was curled up on the grass.

  “After dark.”

  Reiv sat up with a start. “Brina?” he asked.

  “The same. No worse.”

  “Reiv moved to rise, but Jensa’s commanding hand pushed him back down.

  “You’ll eat first,” she ordered. “Brina is sleeping, and Cora’s outside the hut, listening for any sign of her waking.”

  Reiv heaved a sigh. He grabbed the gourd from her hand and took a sip of broth.

  “All of it,” Jensa said, circumventing his next move, which was to hand it back to her.

  “It is hot.”

  “And you’re cold.”

  Reiv realized it must be very late. The sky was pitch black now, the moon and stars veiled behind a thick layer of clouds. Even the temperature had dropped considerably. He was clothed in only a tunic that reached from his shoulders to his knees, and he could not deny that something warm in his belly would do him good.

  Jensa draped the blanket around his shoulders. The warmth felt pleasant against his skin. “Where did you get this?” he asked, studying it.

  “A woman brought it as a gift, for you.”

  “For me?”

  “She said her husband had no more need of it.”

  Reiv’s eyes shot to hers. “Was it—”

  “No.”

  Reiv nodded and clutched the blanket under his chin with his free hand, then noticed that Jensa, still standing, was clothed in little more than that which she usually wore.

  “Would you like to share it with me?” he asked, then realized the implications. To his surprise, she sat down beside him and pulled a corner of the blanket around her shoulders.

  Reiv kept his eyes forward as he continued to sip. The warmth of Jensa’s arm, as well as her pleasant scent, was quickly usurping that of the soup.

  She snuggled closer. “This feels nice.”

  “Um-hmm,” Reiv responded, and tossed back a swig.

  “Are you warm enough?” Jensa asked, running her fingers down his leg.

  Reiv bit back a gasp, nearly dropping the bowl. Jensa laughed. “You’ll warm up in a hurry if you spill that into your lap,” she teased.

  Reiv gripped the gourd tighter. He honestly no longer felt cold, but goose bumps were marching across his skin nonetheless.

  Jensa ran her fingertips along the tiny bumps that were forcing the hairs on his leg to stand at attention. “You are cold,” she said. “Here, let me warm you.”

  Before Reiv could utter a word of protest, she moved to his back, draping the blanket around the both of them, her arms encircling his. She rubbed her hands vigorously up and down his arms, then his torso, all the while blowing warm gentle breaths upon his neck and into his ears. It sent a quake through Reiv’s limbs and forbidden thoughts to his head.

  Reiv set the gourd aside and grabbed her hands. “I am quite warm now,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “Very well,” Jensa replied, but she sounded disappointed.

  Reiv felt like a fool. He would have liked her to continue, any male with an ounce of sense would, but still, in all good conscience, he could not allow it without first telling her what was on his mind.

  “Sit beside me,” he said. “There is something I must tell you.”

  Jensa sank down at his side. “You do not have to say it,” she muttered. “You do not want me.”

  Reiv could not help but laugh. “I thought you said I was the worst.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “That day on the beach, when you and Lyal were arguing; you said I was the worst.”

  “The worst what?”

  “That when people thought we were mates, they were thinking the worst.”

  “You remember that?”

  Reiv shrugged. “It is not every day that I am labeled as such. Of course I remember it.”

  “I was only disputing Lyal’s accusations,” she said defensively. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

  “Well, I will be the worst if I do not find a way to help Brina. I have searched for Frusensias. I have searched for anything that even resembles them.”

  “To make the medicinal that Alicine knew of.”

  “Yes. But I have not found a single one, and even if I had, who amongst us knows how to make the brew? Nannaven is dead, and Alicine in Kirador. I cannot risk Brina dying, Jensa. I must find a way to save her.”

  “But how?”

  “By leaving…tomorrow.”

  “W
hat!” Jensa said, drawing the simple question into an exclamation. “No; you can’t. We’ve only just arrived.”

  “I must go find—”

  “Alicine,” she said curtly. “You go to find Alicine.”

  “She is the only one who can help. Regardless, we do not know how to survive a winter in these mountains. We need someone to guide us. Perhaps Dayn will agree to come back also.”

  Jensa remained silent.

  Through the flicker of torchlight, Reiv realized her eyes were misting. “I will be back,” he assured her. “I promise, I will. I only go to find help for Brina.”

  Jensa nodded as if she understood, but she turned her face away. “So, you’ll bring Alicine back with you,” she said.

  Reiv was not sure how to respond. She clearly did not want Alicine here, but Nannaven had taught Alicine everything she knew. If anyone could help Brina, Alicine could. And if Dayn came also, who better to teach the refugees about surviving in the mountains? But would either of them agree to it?

  “I do not know if she, or Dayn, will want to return with me,” he said.

  “Do you wish it?”

  “I do not know what I wish anymore, only that Brina get well. But if Alicine and Dayn do come back, I think it would be a fine thing. Do you not agree?”

  Jensa leaned against him, pulling the blanket tighter. “I’m frightened.”

  “Of what?”

  “That you will not return.” Jensa raised her eyes to him.

  “Of course I will return.”

  “And if Alicine asks you to stay with her in Kirador?”

  Reiv took Jensa’s hand in his. “I have affection for Alicine. I do not deny it. But if she felt the same for me, she never would have left.”

  “I would never leave you,” Jensa said. She rose to her knees to face him. “Because I love you.”

  Reiv drew a sharp breath, his mind stuttering with confusion. Jensa loved him? As in loved him? He cared for her too, of course, but in his suddenly muddled state, he could not be certain it was the same thing. His thoughts darted back and forth, searching for an answer to her unexpected announcement. But as he turned his focus back to her, he realized the answer was kneeling right in front of him.

  Jensa leaned toward him and planted her lips on his, and for a moment Reiv thought to put a stop to it. He had, after all, only just learned of Jensa’s feelings, and he hadn’t had time to even consider his own. But then his body responded, and any thoughts he had of waylaying her advances slipped entirely away.

  Reiv’s heart raced with anticipation. He wrapped his arms around her, returning her kiss with one of his own. Then Jensa’s passion increased, and she pressed him to the ground, working her lips from his mouth to his chest. Reiv gripped the grass, desiring nothing more than to roll the girl over and return the favor. Without warning, Alicine’s face barged into his consciousness, sending a painful catch to his throat. His mind grew confused with desire and conflict. He loved Alicine, he was sure of it, but she had rejected him—hadn’t she? Reiv gasped as Jensa ran her hand under his tunic. The past be damned, he decided. He flung Alicine from his thoughts, and Jensa onto her back.

  Reiv traced his fingers over Jensa’s body, exploring as much as he dared. He could barely feel her due to the damage to his hands, but he hoped his touch would at least bring her some pleasure. But then an embarrassing thought entered his head: he had no real experience in matters such as this, but Jensa obviously did. And it would soon be all too clear that he was still pure in that regard.

  Jensa gasped, and Reiv snatched his hand back. Gods, he was so clumsy! Had he harmed her in some way?

  “Don’t stop,” she panted. But then she opened her eyes to him. “What is it?”

  Reiv hesitated, then said, “I do not wish to displease you.”

  “You could never displease me.” Jensa studied his face, then her eyes grew wide. “Am I…your first?”

  Heat flared to Reiv’s cheeks. “Yes,” he said. “In this regard, yes.”

  Jensa smiled. “I think we'll manage," she said. She drew his body to hers, and it was then that Reiv knew beyond all doubt: whether this was right or whether this was wrong, regardless of the consequences, their lives were now united, bound forever by this single moment in time.

  Back to ToC

  Part Five: Penance

  Chapter 33: Into the Pit

  “Are your things not gathered yet?” Lorcan asked crossly. He eyed the half-packed satchel that rested atop Falyn’s bed and the assortment of clothing still draped across the coverlet.

  “I can’t decide what to bring, Father,” Falyn said. “We are, after all, going to be away for three days.” She folded a nightgown into her luggage, then stepped toward the dresser, determined to keep her back to her father as much as possible. Over the years he had become skilled at reading her eyes, and she could not risk him reading what would surely be written in them today.

  “Where’s Sheireadan?” he asked. “It is our rotation to visit the outlying homesteads, and we would not be setting a good example if we were to arrive late.”

  “I don’t know,” Falyn said. She bit her lip. She knew full well where her brother was, but she also knew better than to confess it. If Lorcan learned where Sheireadan had gone, the consequences would be severe.

  Falyn could feel the heat of her father’s temper building. “Shall I go and find him?” she asked, risking a turn in his direction.

  Lorcan scowled. “No need. I’ll find him myself.”

  “Shall I pack for him?” she asked as if in afterthought.

  Lorcan stepped across the hallway toward Sheireadan’s room and glanced inside. “He appears to have already done it,” he said. “Well, at least the can do something right.” He stormed toward the front door, his boots pounding the floorboards.

  “You might try the apothecary,” Falyn called after him. “He said something earlier about his stomach.”

  The front door slammed, sending a vibration to the windowpanes and a tinkle to the crystals dangling from the lampshade. Falyn stepped to her bedroom window and eased back the curtain, watching as her father disappeared down the lane. The apothecary was not far, a ten minute stride from the house at most. Perhaps Lorcan would find his son there, perhaps not. And it was the “perhaps not” that Falyn was most concerned about.

  The back door suddenly opened, but before it could close, Falyn rushed toward it.

  Sheireadan stepped through the doorway and stopped, startled to see her fast approaching.

  “Hurry,” she said impatiently. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Time for what?” Sheireadan asked. “I’m already packed.”

  “Father is looking for you. And he’s not happy.”

  Sheireadan flinched, but then he reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a package. “I got the medicinal like you suggested. You told him to check the apothecary, right?”

  “Yes, but you know as well as I do where he’ll look next if he doesn’t find you there. And if anyone saw you with Caryl—”

  “Well, nobody did,” Sheireadan said with annoyance. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Falyn turned and headed back to her room. Sheireadan followed at her heels.

  “Get your bag,” she said over her shoulder. “We need to be out of here before Father returns.” She shoved one last piece of clothing into her satchel and secured it.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Falyn brushed past him and into the hallway, suitcase in hand. “I’ll explain later,” she said, gesturing for him to follow.

  “What haven’t you told me?” Sheireadan asked.

  “I’ll tell you on the way,” she replied.

  Sheireadan halted. “On the way to where?” he demanded.

  Falyn set her expression to firm, then turned to face him. “We are going to meet Dayn.”

  Sheireadan took a startled step back. “We’re what?”

  “We’re going to the clan lands. Now
get your bag.”

  “Have you lost your senses? We can’t just—”

  “Of course we can. It’s all been arranged.”

  Sheireadan threw his hands into the air. “Arranged?” he cried. “By whom?”

  “By Dayn. He has invited us to live with him. I didn’t tell you sooner because I was afraid you’d do something foolish.”

  Sheireadan gaped at Falyn as if she had grown a second head. “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “No. We’re to meet him at the Well of Wishes at high sun. He’ll escort us on to the clan lands from there.”

  Sheireadan guffawed. “I’m not going anywhere with that—that—”

  Falyn slammed her bag to the ground. “Now you listen to me,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “If you love Caryl, you’ll do as I say. Because if you don’t, you know what will happen.”

  Sheireadan turned his attention toward the front door. “I can’t just leave. Caryl would never understand.”

  “You’d be doing this for him as well as yourself.”

  “But Caryl wouldn’t know that!”

  “Of course he would. He’s seen what happens to those accused of the act the two of you have been stupid enough to commit.”

  Sheireadan huffed. “What makes you think Father would risk anyone knowing? If Caryl went to trial, then I would, too, wouldn’t I?”

  “Not if Father found a way to keep your name out of it. I wouldn’t put it past him to make an example of Caryl anyway.”

  Sheireadan’s nostrils flared. “Let him try!”

  “Watch your words or you just might find yourself next to him on an execution pyre!” Falyn placed a commanding hand on his arm. “You have to leave, Sheireadan. It’s the only way.”

  Sheireadan grew quiet as he worked to digest her argument. At last he nodded, then blinked as if coming to his senses. “No. Absolutely not. I’ll not have you giving yourself to a demon to save my skin or anyone else’s.”