Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light

by Tracy A. Akers

  “Dayn,” Reiv said, “I said keep quiet.”

  “What’s the problem?” Alicine asked. “Are we not supposed to be here or something?”

  “I do not think we need to make a grand announcement, that is all.”

  “Well, it’s locked,” Dayn whispered loudly. “But smiths usually arrive early, so we can just wait ‘til he gets here.”

  “Not in the front, though,” Reiv said. “Around the back perhaps.”

  “Reiv? Are you all right? You sound scared,” Alicine said.

  “Do not be ridiculous.”

  “Then what are you not telling us?”

  Reiv sighed, resolved to the fact that he would have to tell her the truth, or part of it anyway. “I will not be welcome here. You and Dayn will be fine, but as for me—”

  “Why are you not welcome here?” Dayn asked, moving closer.

  “It is a long story and I do not wish to go into it. I just think it would be best if we stay hidden until the smith gets here.” Reiv stepped around Dayn and Alicine and headed down the alleyway at the side of the building. In the darkness he could just make out the shapes of crates and barrels stacked alongside the wall. He made his way over to them while Dayn and Alicine followed at his back.

  “Look, we can settle ourselves behind these,” Reiv said. “Perhaps we can get a bit of sleep while we wait.”

  “Fine,” Alicine said curtly. “You know, Reiv, one of these days we are going to get all of these stories out of you.”

  Reiv did not respond and lowered himself next to a barrel. He wrapped his arms around his bent legs and rested his chin on his knees. His mind raced with the events of the previous day, as well as the previous year, and pondered how his life had come to such a sorry end. What had he done to deserve it all, he wondered. He placed his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes, willing the questions and images to go away. If he could just sleep, maybe he could get a respite from the noises in his head, at least until dawn when he knew the real nightmare would begin.

  * * * *

  Reiv awoke and realized it was daylight. He jumped up and pressed his back against the wall. A crowd of people could be seen gathering in the alleyway, staring at the three of them as if they had dropped from the sky. Reiv kicked Dayn with his foot. Dayn responded with a grunt and a grumble, then he, too, jumped up and pressed himself against the wall next to Reiv.

  “Alicine,” Dayn said in a raspy morning voice.

  She mumbled and frowned in her sleep. Dayn reached down and shook her, then yanked her up by an arm. Rubbing her eyes, she stared in bewilderment at the curious onlookers.

  A small gang of Jecta men joined the crowd and pushed their way through, scowling in the direction of the three newcomers standing against the wall. The men eyed them up and down, muttering and whispering, then crossed their arms and cocked their heads. Reiv inflated his chest, determined not to look like a coward.

  “Well, what new trash have the illustrious Guard plopped down in our midst now?” one of the men sneered. He eyed the three with a look of disgust, but clearly the look, as well as the remark, was intended for Reiv.

  A second man took a bold step toward them and leaned toward Dayn. He eyed the birthmark on Dayn’s neck. “So, you’re not as pretty as you first appear,” he said with a smirk. His eyes narrowed as he glanced between Dayn and Reiv, noting their fair features and extraordinary hair. “Humph! Even royal birth lines don’t prevent the treachery of the Tearians. They throw their purebloods into the garbage with the rest.”

  Reiv seethed at the remark, then ushered Dayn and Alicine to stand behind him. The three of them edged down the alleyway, navigating the maze of crates and barrels at their backs, but it did little to distance them from the throng that continued its approach.

  Two small boys darted up, one touching Dayn’s arm, the other Reiv’s hair. Reiv reproached them, and one of the boys jumped back, laughing, while the other bowed in feigned reverence. Alicine huddled closer to Dayn, who wrapped an arm around her. The noise of the crowd cramming its way into the narrow alley became louder as questions and comments were passed back and forth.

  The wall of dark-haired, tattooed faces pressed forward. Reiv clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. A confrontation was in the making; he could feel it. Dayn, who must have sensed it too, moved next to him. Reiv motioned him back impatiently, then planted himself before the approaching crowd. He held his arms back in a protective gesture and flashed his violet eyes in the direction of the approaching dark ones. Some of the Jecta snickered in response, but others stared mutely, no doubt wondering what the former Prince of Tearia intended to do. But then a rumble of voices swelled from behind the crowd and all eyes shot toward it.

  The mob parted like two great waves in a sea of bodies. Faces turned upward to stare at a huge man shouldering his way between them. The man bellowed orders for the onlookers to step aside, then stopped before the three young strangers and folded his great arms across his burly chest.

  Reiv gulped, his Adam’s apple lodged like a boulder in his throat. Staring up at the towering man, he felt dwarfed by the magnitude of his size and nervously impressed by the scars that crisscrossed his tawny skin. The man’s black and gray streaked hair was pulled back from his ruddy face and revealed a line of intricate tattoos that outlined his forehead and trailed down his jaw.

  The man raised his thick, black eyebrows and eyed the three of them intently, then grinned with amusement. He uncrossed his massive arms and rested his fists on his hips.

  Reiv reached his hand to his side, but he knew it was a foolish move. There was no weapon there to grab. He struggled to form a defense in his mind and looked around for anything he could use. But there was nothing other than his own fists, and they were not strong enough to stop a man such as this. The giant took a step toward them, and Reiv retreated, pushing Dayn and Alicine along as he went. He quickly found himself at a stop, pressed against the two of them. They had backed into a wall.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Prince,” the towering man said.

  Reiv tightened his jaw and glanced from the man toward the faces in the crowd. Hundreds of eyes were boring into his, some hating him, some pitying him, and maybe even a scant few respecting him, but then he spied a pair of strikingly blue ones and the face of the beautiful girl behind them.

  The girl held his gaze as she worked her way between the mass of bodies. She stopped when she reached the man who still loomed over them. “Gair, you are frightening our young guests,” she said. She turned her face up to him, and he leaned down while she whispered into his ear. The man narrowed his eyes in contemplation and nodded. They then turned their attentions back to the three.

  Reiv felt his face grow hot. “Speak your business or leave us be,” he growled. “We tire of your Jecta welcome.”

  “As is to be expected,” the girl said. “After all, some of the residents have been less than courteous.” Her eyes darted back to the crowd, settling momentarily on a few who lowered their heads in response. She looked back at Reiv, then said, “I’m Jensa. I’ve been sent to fetch you.”

  Reiv opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He wasn’t sure how to respond. The girl was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Tall, willowy, and golden skinned, she stared at him with pale eyes that were elaborately outlined with Shell Seeker kohl. Her arms were tattooed with repeating patterns of ocean waves from just below the shoulder to midway to the elbows. Breathtakingly beautiful, she was dressed with only a strip of material wrapped around her breasts and another draped about her hips.

  “I am Jensa,” she repeated, appearing somewhat baffled by his silence. “Come; follow me. I’ll take you all to the Spirit Keeper.” She motioned them to her, then turned and walked toward the crowd.

  For a moment the three hesitated, but then Dayn pushed at Reiv’s back. “You heard her. She’s taking us to the Spirit Keeper. Go!”

  Dayn and Alicine shoved past the still dumbfounded Reiv and followed Jensa into the c
rowd. Dayn shot Reiv a look. “Come on, fool,” he shouted.

  Reiv watched as his cousin caught up to the beautiful Shell Seeker, then he too sprinted forward, hustling to take his place at Dayn’s side.

  The two boys walked behind Jensa, watching her backside as though under a spell. Her hair, in both braids and ringlets, bounced to her stride, and the shells that adorned her body sang the melody of her movements. Dayn and Reiv looked at each other momentarily, but neither said a word and returned their attentions to her backside.

  Gair took up the rear of the group, making sure the crowd kept a safe distance, but that didn’t prevent the spectators’ comments from reaching their ears. “Ruairi . . . prince . . . royalty.” Words that could be heard all too clearly now. Alicine and Dayn glanced in simultaneous curiosity at Reiv, but he did not acknowledge their stares, just as he did not acknowledge those of the crowd.

  Jensa continued to lead the brigade through the winding, dusty streets. The original crowd of onlookers began to lag, mostly due to Gair’s hostile glares and threatening gestures, but new, equally curious faces moved in to take their place. Some paused along the sides of the street, while others stood in doorways or leaned out of windows. Many merely stopped and watched as they passed, but most dropped what they were doing and followed the peculiar group. Children chased the visitors, laughing and darting around and between them. But most ran alongside Reiv, their small eyes staring up at him in wonder. “It’s the Prince!” young, excited voices were heard saying over and over again.

  “Reiv, what does ‘prince’ mean?” Alicine asked.

  Reiv remained silent, not knowing how to answer. She would find out soon enough, but later would be better than now. “It is intended as an insult, Alicine. That is all you need to know,” he said.

  “What kind of insult?” Alicine persisted.

  Jensa turned her head around and looked at Reiv as though surprised he had even been asked. But he did not look at her, nor did he answer the question.

  “Shall I tell them then?” Jensa asked, a touch of amusement in her voice.

  Reiv’s eyes shot to hers. “No!” he snapped. “They will know soon enough.” He marched on furiously.

  “But Reiv,” Dayn called out, “why can’t—”

  “No!”

  Dayn looked down at his feet, aggravated by Reiv’s curt response. “You’re always so impatient,” he grumbled. “You’d think after all we’ve been through together. . .”

  Gair followed like a great watchdog, no longer a force to be feared, at least not by the newcomers. Any brash comments he now made were directed toward unruly members of the crowd, not the strangers themselves. Hearing the brief but emotional exchange between Reiv and the others, he said, “Be patient, little ones. The gods choose when they wish to make things known.”

  Alicine looked up at the man, a giant from her perspective. “What do the gods have to do with it?” she asked.

  Gair looked down at her and smiled. “The gods have a plan for every person and every living thing, and even some things not living. Usually we don’t understand their plan, if we’re even aware of it at all. But sometimes the plan is so great, the gods ¬decide to share the knowledge of it with us.”

  “What plan?” Alicine asked.

  “In due time.”

  Alicine stopped and stomped her foot. “Why is the answer to every question either ‘later’, or ‘in due time’? Dayn and I are tired of being kept in the dark about everything.”

  Gair laughed, amused by her sudden display of temper. “Keep walking, girl.” He turned her around by the shoulders and nudged her forward. “Like I said . . . patience.”

  “Patience, indeed,” Alicine hissed under her breath. But she resumed her march, now several paces behind the others.

  The walk through the streets seemed to take forever. The actual distance was probably not far, but it was difficult to gauge since frequent interruptions by curious onlookers slowed their pace. Reiv, realizing he was getting ahead of Jensa and had no clue as to where he was going, dropped back reluctantly and resumed his pace alongside Dayn. Alicine seethed behind them. They ceased further discussions and walked silently, each deep in their own thoughts.

  The sun was higher in the sky when they rounded what seemed like the hundredth corner and found themselves standing before an earthen dwelling. It was much smaller than most of the ones they had previously passed, but it looked cozy and inviting. Clusters of fragrant herbs and colorful flowers surrounded its dull walls, and a bent woman stood in the doorway, her long, gray hair blowing in the breeze. The knowing smile that graced her lips spoke a silent greeting to the dusty group that now stood before her.

  Jensa approached and bowed politely to the woman. “Nannaven, I have brought them to you as requested.”

  “Praise to the gods for your safe arrival,” the woman said, looking the newcomers up and down. She stepped from the doorway and hobbled over to Reiv. Reaching out she motioned him to bend down to her, then placed her small, wrinkled palms upon his cheeks.

  “We are so blessed that you’ve come to us, Reiv. Thank you, my dear, dear boy.”

  Reiv opened his mouth to respond, but wasn’t sure how. “Oh, you—you are welcome— I think,” he managed. He glanced at Dayn and Alicine, then shrugged his shoulders in confusion. The woman said nothing more, but continued to stare at him, her hazel eyes twinkling. For a moment Reiv found himself searching her face for a hidden message. Finding none, he looked away, praying she would move her probing eyes to someone else.

  As if reading his mind, the woman moved over to Dayn and Alicine, who stood side by side. “I’m Nannaven, the Spirit Keeper of Pobu,” she said, motioning them down to her. They looked at each other, then complied. Nannaven placed a hand on each of their cheeks. “You have been through so much. Come, let us go indoors where you can be refreshed.” She ushered them toward the house.

  Nannaven turned to see Reiv lingering, his arms crossed. He shifted his weight and stared at the ground.

  “Come, Reiv,” she said, motioning him forward. “You must walk beside us.” Seeing his hesitation, she approached him and hooked her arm through his.

  He forced a smile, but it turned to a scowl when the crowd began to snicker. He yanked his arm away, and folded it back across his chest. What was he, some sort of red-tufted parrot doing tricks for their entertainment?

  “Shush! Off with you all now,” Nannaven said, waving her hand to scoot the spectators away. Most lost their grins of amusement and bustled off, heads bowed timidly.

  “Come,” she coaxed.

  “No, I think I should go now,” Reiv said.

  “Go? Where would you go?”

  “Well, I was only meant to get Dayn and Alicine to Pobu and then—”

  “Then?”

  He looked back at his feet. “I do not think I can stay. I mean, this is your home and I am Tearian. I do not belong here.”

  “And where, may I ask, do you belong?”

  He paused for a long moment, then said, “Nowhere, I suppose.”

  “Then here is as good as nowhere.” She looped her arm back through his. “Come. You must be hungry.”

  The scent of herbs and roasting fowl greeted the three as they entered the house. It was a welcome relief from the stench of the cell and the dust of the streets that still lingered in their nostrils. Nannaven ushered them over to a plank table, not particularly large, but adequate for the hungry group. She and Jensa then poured them each a mug of water topped with a leafy sprig of mint. They gulped the drinks down eagerly and held their mugs out for more, finding their thirst quenched only after having received two more fills. Nannaven served them up plates of meat and cooked carrots, and placed a warm loaf of bread at the center of the table.

  Alicine and Dayn did not wait for an invitation to sink their teeth into the food, but Reiv hesitated, staring at it suspiciously. Dayn took a great mouthful and groaned with pleasure. Alicine laughed and wiped a trickle of greasy juice from her chi
n. Reiv continued to examine his share; he wasn’t certain what animal the meat had come from. But he could bear his hunger no longer and was soon shoving it into his mouth with as much passion as the others.

  “It is good,” he said, his mouth full and his words muffled. He smiled up at the Spirit Keeper, revealing an emotion almost resembling that of happiness. She expressed instant delight and rushed over to spoon an extra helping onto his plate. Whether it was the compliment for her cooking or the genuine smile he had flashed her was not clear, but after that she seemed to pay him particular attention. Before long he was politely declining her offer of a third helping. Dayn readily volunteered to take it in his place and held out his plate time after time until he, too, was pushing his plate away, his belly full at last.

  “Nannaven, what does ‘prince’ mean?” Alicine asked, watching Reiv from the corner of her eye. He scowled and flashed her a warning, but she persisted. “I mean, we’ve heard that word many times, but no one has explained it to us.”

  Nannaven looked at Reiv as though confused. “Reiv?”

  He moved the dregs of food around on his plate with his fork and remained silent.

  “He hasn’t told them about himself,” Jensa said. “He said they would learn soon enough, or something like that.”

  Nannaven shook her head. “So many secrets with you people.”

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

  “What I said. You don’t have secrets?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then, tell them what ‘prince’ means.”

  “Yes, Reiv, tell us,” Dayn said eagerly. He rested his weight on his elbows and leaned across the table toward his grumpy cousin.

  Reiv rolled his eyes with great drama. “Oh, very well,” he began. “A prince is a non-reigning male member of a royal family, traditionally the son of the monarch, who is usually destined to inherit the sovereignty. That is all.”

  Dayn’s jaw dropped. “I don’t know what you just said.”

  Alicine cocked her head. “And?”

  “And I am, I mean, I was once a prince.”