Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light

by Tracy A. Akers

  “What are you whispering about?” Reiv said crossly. He folded his arms, a clear indication he did not really wish to know, and stared hard at Dayn who was slowly walking toward him. Reiv fingered the sword he had set on the table. “Stay where you are.”

  “You can’t keep us prisoners,” Dayn said, stopping and lifting his chin in an attempt to look brave. “You have no right, besides—”

  “You are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do,” Reiv said. He pulled the sword from its sheath.

  “At least allow Alicine to leave,” Dayn said, motioning toward her. “It’s not proper for her to be here.”

  “Would you prefer she spend the night in jail?”

  “Jail? What is jail?” Dayn asked. He knew they did not have them in Kirador, at least he didn’t think they did. From the sound of Reiv’s voice, however, it didn’t sound like a good thing.

  “You do not know what a jail is? Fine. Would you prefer I turn her over to the Guard then?”

  This time Reiv’s meaning was not lost, and Dayn felt his stomach go sick. Glancing over at Alicine, he shook his head ‘no.’ The look of satisfaction on Reiv’s face left Dayn frustrated at his own lack of backbone. He had already been muted and hadn’t even addressed the question he’d intended to ask.

  As if reading his thoughts, Alicine moved to Dayn’s side. She scanned the room, then settled her eyes on a closed door tucked in the shadows to their left. “Please, we need that room very much,” she said.

  Reiv glanced toward the door with a look of surprise. “Marital comforts will have to wait, girl,” he said with a snort. “Surely you and your husband do not expect to be accommodated here of all places.”

  Dayn’s mouth dropped open at the implication, while Alicine’s body went noticeably stiff. She took a bold step in Reiv’s direction.

  “Dayn is my brother,” she said.

  “Brother?” Reiv stared the two up and down and burst into laughter. “You must think me a fool!” But his laughter was silenced when Alicine’s palm met his face.

  Dayn grabbed his sister’s arm and yanked her back toward him. “What do you think you’re doing? Have you forgotten he has a weapon?”

  Alicine’s face colored to match the heat of her emotions, then she spun to face Reiv. His hand was pressed against his smarting cheek, and his eyes were wide with disbelief.

  “You struck me,” he cried. “You actually struck me.” He removed his hand and looked at the palm of his glove as if expecting to find blood on it.

  “I’m . . . sorry,” Alicine said somewhat unenthusiastically.

  “If you wish me to plead leniency for you in the morning, this is no way to achieve it!”

  Alicine lowered her eyes in feigned defeat, but not before wresting her arm from Dayn’s grasp. Dayn grabbed it again.

  “Alicine,” he said, “we’re not in Kirador and he’s not one of the neighborhood boys. You’d best watch yourself or you’re going to get us both killed!”

  “Did you hear what he said?” Alicine huffed. “Who does he think he is?”

  “I don’t care who he thinks he is. All I know is we’ve been accused of stealing—stealing, Alicine. And in case you’ve forgotten, he has a weapon. A weapon I’ve met personally!”

  Alicine opened her mouth, but Dayn stopped her short. “No!” he barked. “For once you’ll do as I say!”

  “Enough!” Reiv shouted. “The both of—”

  But before he could say another word there was a loud knock at the door and a concerned voice calling his name on the other side of it.

  Reiv risked a glance in the direction of the door and groaned. “Oh gods,” he whispered. “Brina, not tonight.” There was no time to consider a plan to ignore her, however, for the door burst suddenly open.

  “Reiv! What is happening here? I heard shouting.”

  Reiv closed his eyes in brief denial. How in the world was he going to explain all this? He glanced at the prisoners. Their expressions spoke of wide-eyed awe at the sight of the woman now standing in the doorway with her hands planted on her hips.

  Brina marched over to Reiv, awaiting his reply. She raised an eyebrow, no doubt expecting the worst. Reiv turned his face away. She moved her gaze to the sword clutched in his hand and frowned her disapproval.

  “Reiv. Explain,” she ordered.

  He lowered the sword as well as his eyes, humiliation bathing him. The handprint still felt hot against his cheek and he could tell from Brina’s expression that she saw it. “I have everything under control,” he said.

  “Yes, I can see that,” Brina said. She looked at the motionless boy and girl, who were half lost in the shadows, and nodded in their direction. “Who are your guests?”

  “Jecta thieves.” Reiv refocused his attention on the two criminals across the room. “I found them stealing in Labhras’s fields.”

  “Why are they here?”

  Reiv motioned Brina to the side in an attempt at private conversation. “Because of the festivities,” he said in a low voice. “I couldn’t take them to Headquarters tonight. You know that.”

  Brina slanted her eyes toward Dayn and Alicine. “But do you think it wise to bring them here?”

  “I had to.”

  “And the sword? What could possibly necessitate that?”

  “You do not understand, Brina. They are Jecta. They cannot be trusted.”

  Brina turned to Dayn and Alicine who were still cloaked in the darkness. “Come out, you two. Let me take a look at you,” she said.

  Dayn and Alicine looked at each other hesitantly, but as requested stepped forward to face her.

  Brina’s mouth parted. Her face went pale. “The boy?” she asked, throwing a look of inquiry Reiv’s way.

  “Do not be fooled by his resemblance to Whyn, Brina. He is a Jecta and a thief.”

  “Yes, of course . . . Whyn,” she said. But from her expression the explanation was not a satisfactory one.

  “Did he give you the mark?” she asked, indicting Reiv’s cheek.

  Reiv stiffened. “No.”

  “The girl then?”

  “It was a misunderstanding.”

  “What sort of misunderstanding?”

  “The girl said she required the bedchamber. I thought they were husband and wife.”

  Brina’s eyes widened as she turned to study the precocious young woman in the corner. Then she broke into gentle laughter. “Reiv, do you not understand what the poor girl probably meant?”

  “Probably meant?”

  “Have you no sense at all?” Brina said, surprised by his lack of it.

  Reiv’s face reddened with sudden understanding. “I—Well, gods! She could have said it straight out instead of acting like it was some great mystery.”

  Chiding him for his masculine stupidity, Brina lit a second lantern and approached Alicine. “Come, child, I will help you tend to your needs.”

  Alicine went willingly, apparently more concerned with bodily relief than any danger Brina might pose. As she walked past Reiv, Alicine curled her lip in his direction, but he kept his face averted, refusing to acknowledge her.

  Reiv sat upon the chaise and watched Dayn from the corner of his eye. Laughter could be heard through the lavatory door across the way. Reiv scowled. What could they possibly find so amusing? He rose, muttering about how long it took women to do things, then paced a few steps back and forth. Feeling Dayn’s gaze upon him, he glanced over to see an expression of amusement plastered across the boy’s face.

  “What do you find so amusing, Jecta?” Reiv snarled.

  “Oh, nothing much, Reiv. That is your name, right? But we haven’t been formally introduced, now have we, and since you don’t seem to want to call me by my—”

  “There is no need for formal introductions.” Reiv lidded his eyes with indifference and half-turned his back to him.

  “Well, I think there is. And by the way, my name is Dayn, not Jecta. Where we come from—”

  “Just where do you com
e from?” Reiv demanded, rounding on him.

  Before Dayn could open his mouth to respond, Alicine and Brina returned from the lavatory.

  “Reiv, enough of this,” Brina said. “Your guests are tired.”

  She walked into his bedchamber and retrieved two blankets, the only two he owned, and handed them to Dayn and Alicine. “Here. Make yourselves a pallet on the floor there. Things will look brighter in the morning.”

  “What am I supposed to use?” Reiv asked, indignant at Brina’s sudden generosity with his blankets.

  “Why nothing, dear.” Brina turned her eyes to the strangers. “Boy, you are limping. Have you been injured?”

  Dayn frowned down at his boots. “No, ma’am. Blisters. We walked a long way and these boots weren’t a good choice.”

  “Well, pull them off. Let us see what can be done. Reiv, fetch some salve so we can mend this poor boy’s wounds. And bring some water and a cloth. It will do no good to treat feet covered in filth.”

  Reiv’s jaw dropped, then snapped shut. He stormed over to the shelf and reached for a jar, then retrieved a jug of water and a rag. “What am I, some sort of servant?” he mumbled as he thrust the supplies into Dayn’s hands.

  Dayn wiped his feet, then rubbed the sticky ointment from top to bottom and in between each toe. “Thank you,” he said. “They feel better already.”

  Dayn settled onto the pallet. For a long while he could feel Alicine fidgeting next to him. He looked at her with annoyance, then noted the perspiration that bathed her face and darkened her dress in patches. She lifted her skirt and fanned her legs, then saw that he was looking and stopped.

  “Are you hot, dear?” Brina called from across the room. She made her way over to the pallets, then stepped around them and moved to the massive drape covering the wall behind them. Reaching up, she grabbed the great tapestry and pulled it toward the corner of the room, securing it with a long, braided cord.

  “There,” she said, “that should help.”

  A sudden breeze drifted in, teasing their hair. Dayn twisted around, realizing the drape served as a textile partition dividing one room from another. With the drape pulled back, he could see a large atrium revealed beyond, but in the darkness it was difficult to identify the shapes that filled it. As though on cue, the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, bathing the courtyard in bright, silvery light.

  Dayn nudged his sister to take a look. The atrium was filled with flowering plants, hundreds of them, all carefully tended. They both gawked at the atrium, then at Reiv, then at each other.

  “Who’d have thought,” Alicine whispered.

  Dayn rolled onto his back, determined to get some rest. Alicine, however, could not seem to cease her incessant movements. He nudged her and mumbled a word of complaint, but it did little good. Between her kicking of the covers and the battle going on in his mind, he doubted he would ever get to sleep. He moved to his side and watched Reiv and Brina as they visited across the room. New questions came instantly to mind, but he just added them to the list of a hundred others he had asked himself that day. He shifted in an attempt to get comfortable and pulled the corner of the blanket up under his chin.

  Brina watched the two strangers who were finally asleep across the room. She turned and sat down on the bench at the table, then moved her eyes to Reiv who was busy at the counter.

  “You have not removed your gloves,” she said. “Do you intend to?”

  “No,” he replied.

  “You must apply the medicinals every night. You know that.”

  “What difference does it make!” he barked. He glanced at her guiltily. “I am sorry, Brina. I did not mean to snap. I will tend to them. Later though.”

  Brina rose from the bench and crossed over to him. Reiv tensed, sensing a lecture was in the making. “I was so stupid,” he said, looking at his hands.

  “You did what you had to do,” Brina said.

  “Did I?”

  “Of course. Could you live with yourself if you had not?”

  “I cannot live with myself now.” Reiv stepped toward the table and sat on the bench. He rotated his empty mug on the tabletop while Brina took her place across from him. For an awkward moment neither said a word.

  “What was it like today?” Reiv finally asked. “Did Cinnia seem…happy?”

  “Yes, I think she is happy. She can thank you for that, my dear. If not for you, she would not even be here.”

  Reiv nodded, assessing whether or not it had been worth it, then telling himself for the thousandth time that it had. “What of Father? Is he any better?”

  “No. He still lingers.”

  Tears welled in Reiv’s eyes, but he wiped them away. “They will not even let me see him.”

  Brina remained silent.

  “What of the rest of the family? Did anyone ask of me?”

  Brina’s mouth twisted as though dreading the words. “No, Reiv, they did not,” she finally replied.

  Reiv slammed his fist onto the table and rose, shaking. “Why do I even ask, Brina?” he shouted. “Why do I even care?”

  Brina rose and walked around to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away and stumbled against the bench, knocking it to the floor.

  “I do not think I can bear this!” he cried, digging his fists into his eyes.

  But before Brina could make another move to comfort him, her attention turned to two pale eyes staring at them from the shadows.

  “The boy,” she whispered.

  Dayn scrambled to his feet in embarrassed discovery, aware that Brina’s and Reiv’s emotionally charged conversation had suddenly turned in his direction.

  Reiv followed Brina’s gaze to Dayn, now staring back at him from the far side of the room, and lurched toward him. Reiv’s face looked feral, as though his very soul lay bare upon it. Anguish, fear, anger; all radiated from him in an explosion of emotion. But it was the hatred that frightened Dayn the most.

  “Reiv, stop!” Brina cried as she grabbed him by the arm.

  He brushed her aside. “What did you hear?” Reiv screamed.

  Dayn saw purple veins cord in the boy’s neck. He backed away, but a startling hardness rammed against his spine.

  “I said what did you hear!” Reiv demanded, moving closer.

  Dayn pressed his back against the pillar and forced some saliva down his throat. “Nothing—I swear—I just woke up—the bench—the noise of the bench woke me!” He glanced down at Alicine and saw that she too was awake, her eyes as round as saucers. “Stay down,” he whispered. She ignored him and rose to stand by his side.

  Brina rushed between Reiv and Dayn, then turned and stared Reiv down. “Reiv!” she shouted. But his eyes did not seem to see her, though she stood but inches in front of him. “Reiv, listen. He is not Whyn.” Her voice became softer, more soothing. “Reiv, please hear me. He is not Whyn.”

  Reiv blinked in acknowledgement and took a deep breath, his jaw clenched.

  “It is all right. The boy did not hear anything,” Brina said.

  Reiv regained his composure, though with obvious difficulty, while Brina offered continued, quiet assurances and waited. Satisfied that he was no longer a prisoner of his rage, she turned to face the still quaking Dayn and Alicine. Brina folded her hands in front of her as she contemplated the two of them, then approached Dayn who was standing with rocking knees.

  “What is your name, boy?” she asked.

  “Dayn,” he said. He stared at the floor, conscious of the woman’s eyes upon him. It was as though she were examining him now, rather than merely looking at him.

  “Dayn,” she repeated.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Reiv paced the floor. “I told you, they are Jecta thieves. There is no need to acquaint yourself with them further. The sooner they are out of here the better.”

  “We are not thieves!” Alicine said. “Please, lady, we didn’t know we were trespassing. I did pick some flowers, but only because I’d never seen any like them befor
e. I meant no harm; we meant no harm.”

  “Reiv,” Brina said, “is it possible this was yet another misunderstanding?”

  “Misunderstanding?” he practically shouted. He stormed over to Dayn’s coat that had been tossed by the door earlier and grabbed it up, then pulled out the tiny bottle that was stuffed in the pocket. Thrusting it out, he said, “Do you call this a misunderstanding?”

  Brina’s hand fluttered to her breast; her breath caught audibly in her throat. “Where did you get that?”

  Reiv, clearly taken aback, turned his eyes to the bottle clutched in his hand, then back to Brina’s stricken face. “The same place as this,” he said, pulling out the brooch. “I suggest you ask the thief where he got them.”

  Brina crossed over to Reiv, her hands trembling, and took the bottle from him, then the brooch. She held them on her outstretched palm, then wrapped her fingers around them. She spun to face Dayn. “Where did you get these?” she asked. Her voice was kind, not accusing, and her expression was not as one wanting details of a crime, but one who wanted answers to a much more important question.

  Dayn felt confused. Was the bottle hers? Had he stolen something that belonged to her? Bowing his head, he realized that he was indeed a thief.

  “I found the bottle in a cave.” He jerked his head back up to her. “But the brooch is mine. It was a gift from my father!”

  “A cave?” Brina whispered.

  “There were other things there, but I only took the bottle.” Recognizing the futility of trying to explain his thievery, Dayn’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it.”

  Brina studied his face as she moved closer. “Are you . . . Jecta?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m Dayn.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “No, Dayn. I mean are you a Jecta?”

  Dayn shifted awkwardly. “Forgive me, but I don’t know what that is.”

  “Of course he is Jecta!” Reiv said. “Do not be fooled by his act of innocence, Brina. He is marked somewhere, I assure you.”