Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (22 page)

“I know that,” Kerrik said. “My parents threw
me away because of my foot.” His eyes glistened with tears, but he
blinked them back.

“No, Kerrik,” Brina said, resting a hand on
his head. “They did not throw you away; they loved you very much.
But Tearian law forbade them to keep you.”

Kerrik turned his gaze to the floor, but Reiv
crooked a finger beneath the boy’s chin, tilting his face toward
his. “What Brina says is true, Kerrik. Your parents saved you,
through her. You told me once that Brina saved many babies, did you
not?”

“Yes, that time on the beach, when I taught
you to swim.”

Reiv smiled. “I was a rather awkward swimmer
back then.”

“Awkward? Hmmph!” Kerrik said. “A better word
for it would be
awful
.”

Reiv laughed. “You are right; I was awful.
You know, Kerrik, that was an especially difficult time for me. I
was struggling to make a new life for myself…away from my family,
everything I held dear. At first I thought I could be happy no
place else but Tearia, but when I met you and Jensa and Torin, I
found happiness after all. Now I must leave, and though I hope you
go with me, I will understand if you do not. But if you stay only
because this place holds your heart, please know this: You might
think Meirla is the only place you can find happiness, but that is
not necessarily true.”

Reiv rose, then turned to Jensa. “You and
Kerrik are free to stay, but you know as well as I do why you must
leave. Even Torin has little choice; Cora and I removed two arrows
from his back, and they belonged to Whyn. But there is more.” He
paused, dreading the words. “Mya and Nannaven are dead.”

Jensa’s hand drifted to her mouth. “No,” she
said.

“Whyn murdered them, Jensa. He is possessed
by a hatred we will never understand. But there is no time for
anger or grieving; we must fetch Torin and leave this place.”

“Who else is going?” Kerrik asked. “Are we
the only ones who must go?”

“No,” Reiv replied. “Anyone who wishes may
come with us. But I suspect most of the Shell Seekers will stay.”
He forced a smile for Kerrik’s benefit. “As for who will be going
with us, Nely and Gem are safe with Torin, so they will come, of
course. As for Cora—”

“She will go, too, I suppose,” Jensa said
with obvious annoyance.

“I suspect she will,” Reiv said. “She has no
other family. I know she will be sad to leave Meirla, but—”

“She would be even sadder to leave
you
,” Jensa said, finishing the sentence for him.

“Why do you say that?” Reiv asked, surprised
by both the statement and the sentiment.

“I’m sorry,” Jensa mumbled. “I know you have
affection for her.”

“And
she
has affection for Torin,”
Reiv said.

Jensa’s expression lifted. “Oh…well…that
answers that.”

“Frankly, it leaves me rather confused,” Reiv
said.

Jensa laughed, but her face grew solemn as
her gaze wandered over the hut’s meager contents. “I suppose there
can be no more debate as to whether or not we leave,” she said.
“But where are we to go?”

“I know of only one place,” Reiv said.

“Kirador?” Jensa asked, but Reiv could not
tell from her tone whether or not she wished it.

“No,” Reiv said. “I do not think we would be
welcome there. Do not forget, the Kiradyns believe in demons. No
doubt we would be mistaken for them. Besides, Dayn and Alicine went
home to resume their old lives. I do not think it would do well for
us to barge in on them so soon.”

“So where, then?” Kerrik asked. His eyes
brightened. “Will it have sand and water?”

“No, not like here, but it is beautiful
nonetheless. The place I am thinking of is a valley, beyond the
mountains. Between here and Kirador.”

“How do you know of this place?” Jensa asked
suspiciously.

“I learned of it during my Transcension,”
Reiv said. “Yustes thinks it is a place called Oonayei.”

Jensa gawked. “Oonayei?
The
Oonayei?”

“I do not know; perhaps. There was much
argument about it, something about a prophecy. Yustes seemed
convinced, but Lyal and his friends scoffed at the idea. I know
little about it myself.”

“Everyone knows about Oonayei,” Kerrik
said.

“Is that so? Well how is it that I do
not?”

“Because you don’t do Service,” Kerrik
said.

It was true; Reiv did not participate in the
spiritual teachings of the Shell Seekers. He believed in the
gods—well…the Tearian gods at least. Why, he had even met one of
them: Agneis. But he had no desire to participate in any more
rituals. That which he had experienced during the act of
Transcension was enough for one lifetime.

“Kerrik is right, you know,” Jensa said. “If
you had paid more attention to your spiritual health, you would
know about Oonayei.”

Reiv raised his palms in surrender. “You are
right, but no lectures, please. There is no time for them. We must
be away from here by dark. I suggest we start packing.”

Within the hour they had collected the barest
of essentials: food, eating and cooking utensils, blankets,
medicinals, flint, and a few personal items. There was little time
to worry over the rest of their possessions; the sun was nearing
the peaks of the mountains, and they still had to fetch Torin and
the girls.

Reiv and Kerrik constructed a travois to
transport Torin along with the bedding. The cart that they had once
used to carry goods to Market held the rest of the supplies. The
poles that made up the transport for Torin were fastened to Gitta’s
harness. She would pull the travois, while Reiv pulled the cart and
the others walked alongside.

With supplies finally loaded, Reiv ducked
back into the hut to survey its contents one last time. There was
still one thing left to retrieve: the book that Nannaven had given
him the last time he saw her.

He knelt beside Kerrik’s cot and stretched an
arm beneath it. The underbelly of the bed was stuffed with boyhood
collections: rocks, feathers, and birdlike skeletons; shells,
trinkets, and weapons made of sticks. All were crammed willy-nilly,
which was why Reiv had hidden the book there in the first place.
Since Kerrik rarely pulled anything out of the pile—he primarily
just shoved things into it—Reiv felt the hiding place was a good
one. Of course, few of Kerrik’s collectibles were going with them,
so there was plenty to dig through.

He pushed some items aside, then scraped out
even more as he tunneled to the back of Kerrik’s treasure pile. At
last his fingers fell upon the burlap cloth that wrapped the book
and, grabbing it by a corner, pulled it out.

He brushed off the dust, but dared not unwrap
it. There was no time to look at the thing, and even less to answer
questions should a member of the Guard lay eyes on it. Though the
treaty had lifted the ban on books, it probably no longer held. And
knowing what happened to those caught with writings in the past, he
did not relish the idea of being caught with the tome now.

He crawled up from his knees and tucked the
bundle beneath his arm, then headed out the hut and to the cart.
“Had to retrieve one last thing,” he announced casually as he
walked past the others who were now waiting by the horse. He
secured the book under his sleeping roll, then double-checked the
ropes that straddled the cart.

Reiv turned to Jensa, Brina, and Kerrik and
his spirits took a dip. Their eyes were not turned in the direction
they would soon be traveling, but were gazing past the dunes,
longing for the sea.

“Shall we visit it one last time?” Reiv
asked. Though they were pressed for time, he realized they could
not leave without saying goodbye, and knew he couldn’t either.

Together they made their way toward the
beach. When they arrived, they stood solemnly, drinking in the
bright teal colors of the sea and the musty scent of the waters.
The waves crashed loudly in the distance, but lapped the shoreline
gently. One by one the four of them stepped into the water. Even
Brina, who had never dared, soon stood ankle deep.

Kerrik dove beneath the waves, then sprang
back up to the surface. “Look!” he announced. He grinned and thrust
out a hand to display his latest prize: a shell, large and pink and
spiked in iridescent shades of white.

Reiv’s heart melted. “It is a fine one,
Kerrik,” he said.

Kerrik’s grin wavered as his eyes moved past
Reiv toward the tree line.

Reiv wheeled around, half-expecting to see a
host of guards standing there. But what he saw sent him a very
different emotion. Shell Seekers, hundreds of them, were weaving
between the trees, making their way slowly toward the beach. All
were adorned in their finest garb: togas and sarongs dyed in shades
of the sea and the sunset; eyes outlined in kohl; shell jewelry
dangling from ears, necks, wrists, and ankles. There were ancient
men and elderly women, bent in stature but proud in spirit. There
were mothers with children clinging to breast and skirt; young men,
old men, and in between. Teens and adolescents, males and females,
all approached in mass. And Yustes, the Elder, walked ahead of them
all.

Yustes led the people toward Reiv, and there
he stopped. His face was lined with age, but his eyes were bright
with anticipation. The Elder tipped his head respectfully, and Reiv
returned the gesture, but neither said a word; there seemed to be
no need.

Yustes turned to face the sea, then raised
his arms and began to chant. As the words left his lips, Reiv
realized the man was singing in the Old Tongue, a language Reiv had
heard only rarely and did not understand. But as the crowd
responded in unison, Reiv understood it was a Service of sorts, a
ceremony of thanks.

Reiv stood respectfully, feeling like an
outsider. He had never thought of their religion as his own, and
had no clue as to what they were saying. But as he listened to the
love and gratitude reflected in their voices, and gazed at the
water to which it was directed, he realized that he felt it too. He
loved the sea, and he loved the gods, no matter who, or what, they
were.

The Shell Seekers knelt, and so did Reiv.
They kissed the sand; he followed their lead. As they sang, he
closed his eyes to focus on the rhythm of their words. When they
had finished, they prayed for a moment in silence. And as they did
so, Reiv whispered a prayer of his own:
Thank you for allowing
me to have known these people.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked
up to see Yustes standing over him. “It is time,” the old man
said.

“Time?” Reiv asked.

“Time to leave. The sea forgives us. One day
she will welcome us back.”

“You are coming with me?” Reiv asked.

“Those of us here. Some have remained to do
what they must. Elders Nye and Quin have chosen to stay and offer
spiritual guidance.”

Reiv ran his eyes over the congregation. “How
can we hope to move so many so quickly?”

“Fear not,” Yustes said. “You lead us to
Oonayei. We will do the rest. It was foretold by the gods; they
will not desert us.”

But Reiv was skeptical. “How long until they
can be packed and ready?” he asked. “The sun will be setting soon.
We need to be well gone by then.”

“Our supplies are lined up behind yours,”
Yustes said. “We sought you at your family’s hut before finding you
here. When we saw your supplies, but not the rest of you, we knew
you were doing what we, too, intended: giving thanks to the
sea.”

Yustes’s words resonated through Reiv’s
thoughts. Jensa… Kerrik…Torin…Brina…they were his family, as were
every man, woman, and child now standing before him. And should
they go with him, he risked losing them all.

“Yustes,” he said, “we must go to the Jecta
encampment first. Torin must be fetched, and any Jecta who wishes
to go with us. Do the people realize that?”

Yustes smiled. “We have already prepared
transports and packed additional supplies for the sick. A messenger
has been sent ahead to help the Jecta prepare for the journey.”

“But many are badly injured,” Reiv insisted,
“and others are dying of the fever. My family is willing to take
the risk for Torin’s sake, but these people—” He waved his hand
toward the waiting crowd. “Are they sure this is what they want to
do?”

“They are,” Yustes said. “The gods have never
turned their backs on us. Who are we to turn our backs on
others?”

They all made their way back to the path near
the hut. Reiv stepped toward the cart and slid the pull-harness
over his head and across his back and shoulders. He grabbed hold of
the pole handles on either side of him and took the first step. The
load was heavy, and Reiv was not particularly strong. Torin had
always been the one to pull the cart to Market, and now Reiv
appreciated the man’s seemingly super-human strength.

The encampment was not far, but by the time
they reached it, Reiv’s arms and legs were shaking from exertion.
He disentangled himself from the harness and motioned for Jensa to
follow him.

“You stay with Brina,” he ordered Kerrik.

“But Reiv,” Kerrik whined.

“No arguments,” Reiv said, and he meant it.
He did not know what shape Torin would be in when they arrived, and
did not want Kerrik to see something he was not prepared to
see.

The rest of the Shell Seekers quickly
dispersed to various corners of the encampment. Brina and Kerrik
joined them as they pitched in to help fold tents, gather supplies,
and lift the disabled onto transports.

“Here,” Reiv said as he and Jensa arrived at
the tent where Torin could be found. He pulled back the flap and
ushered Jensa in ahead of him.

Reiv scanned the interior, not sure what to
expect, but he was pleased to see Cora and the girls gathering up
what little they had, and Torin awake and propped up on a roll of
blankets.