Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light

by Tracy A. Akers

  He plopped down on the stool by the fireplace, facing the flames, and opened and closed his fists in an attempt to work the discomfort from them. Since coming to this place his hands had been sorely neglected. There was little opportunity for privacy, and he was far too proud to ask for medicine. No one spoke to him of it, they did not wish to risk his temper, and so he had endured it in silence.

  Jensa rose and set the mending aside, then stretched her arms and arched her back. “I think I’ll step outside for a bit and get a breath of fresh air. Would you like to come?”

  “No,” Reiv replied in a none-too-friendly tone.

  “Suit yourself,” she said, and walked out to the yard.

  Reiv glanced past the open doorway. The sun was setting, and the once vibrant colors of the flowers were barely clinging to their petals anymore. He muttered something about his matching mood, then twisted his body from the outside world.

  He worked his hands, first one and then the other, balling his fists, clenching and unclenching his fingers. But it did little good. They needed release from the sweaty confines of the gloves, but somehow he could not bring himself to do it.

  A figure shadowed the doorway at his back. He could feel someone’s presence, but did not turn to see who it was, and continued his task, keeping his focus upon it. Soft footsteps padded across the room toward him. From where Reiv sat, he could not tell who it was, not even from the corner of his eye which he had eased in that direction. The sound stopped directly behind him and waited.

  “What?” Reiv said impatiently.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Alicine said.

  Reiv rested his hands on his knees and looked over his shoulder. He flicked a strand of hair out of his eye and shot her a look of annoyance. “What is it, Alicine?”

  “Your hands are hurting, aren’t they.”

  Reiv opened his mouth to speak, but Alicine interrupted him. “Don’t bother to deny it,” she said.

  He rose from the stool and turned to face her. “Well, it should come as no surprise,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is they always hurt.” Reiv shrugged his shoulders, then turned and sat back down on the stool. “Do not concern yourself. Really. They have been much worse.” He glanced up and saw the pained expression on her face. He hadn’t meant for her to feel sorry for him. He had only meant— “I am sorry. I did not mean to sound unappreciative.” He kept his hands on his knees and dared not move them, but he could feel them twitching and hoped she did not notice.

  “You haven’t taken off your gloves in how many days now? They need to be cared for. Brina said—”

  “Well Brina is not here, is she?” he said. Then he realized his tone. “Do not worry about Brina. She would understand.” Leaning over, he rested his forearms on his knees and slowly opened and closed his fists. He could feel Alicine watching them, but for some strange reason he was beyond caring.

  Alicine sighed and turned aside, then walked toward the window. She stared out for a moment, then glanced along the wall toward a narrow table and the lamp that sat upon it. “It’s getting dark in here. This lamp needs refilling.” She rummaged through the items on the table and on the shelf above it, searching boxes, baskets, and bottles.

  Reiv looked up. “Try that amber bottle, the tall one there behind the jug. I think I saw Jensa with it the other night when she was looking to light the lamp.” He turned his attention back to his hands.

  “You and Jensa have been spending a lot of time together,” Alicine said. She lifted the bottle and examined it.

  “Yes,” Reiv replied.

  “Do you like her?”

  Reiv wrinkled his brow, confused by the question. “Yes, of course. Do you?”

  “Of course.” Alicine tipped back the barely burning wick of the lantern and trickled some oil into the reserve. The flame grew bright. She smiled at Reiv, who did not smile back, then pulled in a deep breath. “Reiv, I know we’ve only been here a short time, but I’ve become familiar with the potions Nannaven has, and have been working on a few of my own. I’ve mixed up a salve that might ease the pain in your hands. I thought you might want to try it.”

  Reiv was certain his eyes would betray his eagerness. He lowered them in an attempted show of apathy. “Well,” he said, “I could try it, I suppose. If you really want me to.”

  Alicine’s face lit up. “I’ll fetch it. Take off your gloves.” She turned to retrieve the remedy tucked in the cupboard across the way.

  Reiv rose, his face pinched with worry. Take off the gloves? Now? He would have to eventually, but privately of course. Surely she didn’t expect him to do it with her here. He folded his arms and tucked his hands beneath them. How could he possibly let her see them? She would never look at him the same way again, and the pain of the hands would be nothing compared to the anguish of that.

  Alicine walked over to him, a skip in her step. She was practically beaming. Their eyes met and Reiv could not disguise his trepidation. Alicine’s smile wavered as she turned her gaze to the jar. For a moment neither said a word, then she held out her hand.

  “Come,” she said. “Let’s sit over there on the mats.” Her voice sounded cheerful, but cautious. She kept her hand extended to him, but he did not take it.

  “Where is Jensa?” he asked, glancing toward the door.

  “Nannaven sent me home early, so since I’m here, Jensa left for a while. I think she needed a break from you.” She laughed.

  Reiv nodded, but realized that his lungs had stalled. What was he so afraid of? It was only Alicine, not—

  “Do you want to move over there?” she asked, motioning to the mats.

  He nodded again and studied Alicine’s face. Golden firelight danced across her cheeks, alerting him to the unexpected beauty of her features. For a moment his perception of her blurred, as though she had transformed into someone else and was luring him through some mysterious female power. He forced his eyes from her face, only to find them staring at the rich streams of hair cascading over her breasts. A strange sensation wound through his body, twisting through every fiber. He forced his lungs to exhale, but the air escaped raggedly. Before he could think what he was doing, he reached his hand out to hers and she took it.

  They knelt and faced each other on the mat, Reiv looking nervously at the gloved hands splayed across his thighs, Alicine at the bottle of salve clutched within her own. Neither spoke, muted by the awkwardness of the situation. Reiv stirred restlessly. There was still time to change his mind. He could simply get up and run full speed out the door.

  “You’ll have to take them off,” Alicine said, motioning to the gloves.

  A million fears flooded his mind. He did not attempt to remove the gloves. He did not have the courage.

  “Here, let me,” Alicine said, taking one of his hands in hers. She tugged gently at the glove, but he balled his fist and tried to pull it from her. She held fast, as if waiting for him to reconsider. He swallowed, then cautiously relaxed his fingers. One by one she opened them, until his hand lay unmoving in hers. Then she removed the glove.

  Reiv went cold at the realization of Alicine looking at his hand, his hideous, deformed, impure hand. His eyes shot to hers, expecting to see horror there or pity. But he saw neither. She was looking at his hand as if she had seen it a thousand times. He frowned at the mottled hand cradled in her perfect one and felt as though he were going to be ill. He bit back a moan but did not remove his hand. He found he could not move at all.

  Alicine took his other hand and removed the second glove, then reached for the jar at her side and opened it. She dipped out some of the sweetly scented ointment and held one of his hands in hers, then massaged the thick lubricant into it.

  He winced. “I can do it myself,” he said.

  “I know, but I need to see how the treatment reacts to your skin.”

  Reiv watched as Alicine’s slender fingers caressed his badly damaged ones, working the lotion in be
tween them, massaging the tender skin and tight muscles. He thought her hands must be soft, though he could not know for certain. So many parts of his hands were numb from the injuries, and of those parts not numb, he usually felt only discomfort. But he had not forgotten what it felt like to be touched so tenderly. He knew the pleasure touch could bring. He closed his eyes as his thoughts returned to Cinnia.

  Cinnia had touched his hands many times, and he found himself imagining her doing so now. He recalled the feel of her hand in his, the featherlike touch of her fingertips as they explored his body, the softness of her lips as they brushed across his. He had always taken pleasure in Cinnia’s touch, just as she had always taken pleasure in his. But the touch of her hands and her lips was all he had ever known of her. It occurred to him that had they been wed, he would have known so much more of her by now. He envisioned her in his arms and a lusty passion took root.

  The awakenings of his body forced his eyes open, and he realized it was not Cinnia caressing him so tenderly; it was Alicine. He thought to pull away from her, to deny it was even happening, but then his eyes trailed along her arms and up to her bare shoulders. Her skin was a rich tawny gold, nothing like Cinnia’s, and he found himself fascinated by it. His gaze moved to her lips, and he watched them, imagining how they might feel against his. He told himself not to think of her that way, to turn his thoughts away. But the power of her femininity was far greater than any power he had within himself. Cinnia was gone from his life, but Alicine was not. She was here; she was now. He squeezed her hand in his. “Alicine,” he whispered.

  Alicine blushed and looked away. She attempted to remove her hand, but this time it was he who held fast.

  Reiv leaned in closer and felt Alicine’s warm breath upon his face. He reached out to her, but then he hesitated. She would surely be revolted by his touch, and he did not know if he could bear it. To his complete surprise, she took his hand in hers and raised it to her cheek.

  Reiv cupped Alicine’s face in his hands and stared into her eyes. He felt as if he were falling. He clenched his jaw with determination, but it was hopeless; he could not distance himself from the bottomless pit into which he was plunging. He brushed his lips across hers, his kiss soft and gentle. To his delight, she returned it. Then his passion intensified, and he kissed her hard and deep. He ran his hands down her neck and along her shoulders, entwining his fingers in her hair, willing himself to feel the silkiness of it.

  He moved his mouth to her neck, tasting her skin, breathing her scent. His senses blurred, and his mind raced. He felt her lips searching for his, and he met them with a desire he had not felt in a long time. For a moment he was terrified it was only a dream, and yet he prayed more than anything that it was. He knew he should stop, that he had to stop, but she was kissing him back. Didn’t that mean she wanted him? His body reacted to the thought of it, and he leaned further into her, wrapping her in his arms, drinking in the pleasure of her. It all felt so familiar.

  “Cin . . .” he whispered, tracing his lips along her bare shoulder.

  Her hands moved between their bodies and inched their way up his chest. His heart raced wildly at her touch. He felt her palms press against him, pushing with gentle effort. At first he did not recognize her signal, or perhaps he only denied it. She was telling him to stop, but he felt desperate to ignore it. The needs of his body were more powerful than his common sense.

  “Please . . .” he whispered as he pressed his body to hers.

  He felt her tense then, and she shoved her hands against him with a strength he could no longer deny. She did not want him. He realized then that she was shaking, and her eyes were wide as though in terror of him. He stared at her, breathless and bewildered, then leaned away in sudden self-loathing. What was he doing? How could he have forced himself on her like that? He felt overwhelming shame consume him. He had misunderstood. He had gone too far. He struggled to his feet. “Alicine. Forgive me.”

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “I’m—I’m sorry if you thought—but you said it yourself,” she said. “Sin. And it is a sin, outside of marriage I mean.”

  At first Reiv didn’t know how to respond, then he realized he had called her ‘Cin’. He shook his head and backed away. “That is not what I meant. I mean, when I said ‘Cin’ I was thinking of—” He stopped mid-sentence as his mind scrambled. Was it better that she think he had spoken another’s name during the heat of passion, or that somehow he was taking pleasure in the idea of committing a sin? Then he realized it didn’t matter either way. There could never be a future between them. Neither of them belonged here, she least of all. She was only here for Dayn, and it would be Dayn she stayed or left for, not him.

  “I am sorry,” he said, his voice strangely level. “I should not have done it. Not with you. Never with you.” He hated the words as he spoke them. He wasn’t even sure he believed them, but he had to make sure that she did.

  “I have to go,” he said, and bolted through the door and into the gathering darkness.

  * * * *

  Dayn walked through the door and froze, startled by the sight of his sister kneeling before the hearth, sobbing into her hands.

  “Alicine? What’s wrong?” He rushed over and knelt to face her. She lowered her hands and turned her face away.

  “Alicine, tell me.” He glanced at the jar by her side, then noticed the gloves lying on the floor nearby. A mixture of fear and fury grabbed his gut. “Did something happen with Reiv?”

  For a moment she did not respond, then she took a gulping breath and said, “Don’t be concerned. I offered Reiv an ointment for his hands. That’s all.” She picked up the jar with a trembling hand and placed the lid back on it.

  “What happened?”

  “He, I mean, I helped him take off his gloves and—”

  “He let you?”

  “It was—difficult. But I managed to convince him.”

  “And?” Dayn persisted.

  “And I treated them with some salve.”

  “So why are you crying?”

  “His hands, Dayn. It’s so sad what he’s had to endure.”

  Dayn grew silent as he scanned her face, her neck, and her shoulders. His face grew hot.

  “What is it?” Alicine asked, shifting her eyes from the intensity of his gaze.

  “Your face,” he said, but it sounded more like an accusation than a statement.

  Alicine wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, smearing the ointment that lingered there. “Oh, it’s from my own hands, nothing more.”

  But the shine of it wasn’t just on her face.

  “Did he touch you?” Dayn asked, his voice rising at the thought of it.

  “Dayn, please.”

  “He did! He touched you!” He rose abruptly and stormed toward the door. “He’ll rue the day he dared touch my sister!”

  “No, Dayn, wait!” Alicine threw herself out to stop him.

  Dayn stopped and turned, shocked by the despair in her voice, alarmed by the sight of her desperation. He hurried back and put his arm around her, then guided her up and over to the stool.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t leave. I promise.”

  “I want to go home, Dayn. I want to go back to Kirador.”

  “Back to Kirador?” Dayn choked, startled by her unexpected announcement. Surely she didn’t want to go back now; they had only just arrived. She had to give him more time. He shook his head. “I can’t go back. Not yet. Please.”

  Alicine grabbed his hands in hers. “We don’t belong here, Dayn. We’re too different.”

  “I’m not different here. It’s only in Kirador that I’m different.”

  “But you belong with us. You belong with your family. It doesn’t matter where you were born, does it? What matters is that Father and Mother love you and that I love you. You belong with us.”

  “But Brina loves me, too.”

  “She barely knows you,” Alicine snapped. “Besides, where is she? She’s not here, and lik
ely never will be.”

  “She’s my mother, Alicine. My true mother. Are you implying she doesn’t care?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” Alicine stood and stepped away, her back turned to him. “I just want to go home.”

  “Alicine, you know I would do anything for you, and I promise you will return home. I’ll take you there myself, I swear. Just, please, not yet.”

  Dayn held his breath. Would she accept that? Would she be willing to cling to that promise for just a while longer? Or would she insist that they leave now? And if she did insist that they leave, how could he possibly refuse her?

  Alicine stared out, her face void. “All right, Dayn,” she finally said. “We’ll stay. For a while.” She wiped the wetness from her face. “I’m sorry I upset you. It was selfish of me. I know it’s too soon.”

  Relief flooded through him. “I promise, Alicine, I’ll take you home. I will.”

  * * * *

  Reiv did not come back that evening, nor did Jensa. Alicine and Dayn ate silently at the table, neither saying a word until Nannaven returned. The thick and silent aura of emotion blanketing the room could not have escaped the Spirit Keeper, but she asked no questions. She watched the two of them warily, but went about her business, allowing them to work it through at their own pace.

  It grew late and eventually the two of them excused themselves to their bedrolls atop the roof. As usual Alicine tossed and turned, then ended up on her back, staring at the sky. Across the way Dayn awoke from a disturbing dream and glanced at his sister, noting the blanket twisted between her feet. He raised up on one elbow and watched her silently.