Free Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One by Tracy A. Akers

waiting for an invitation.
    “Good, you are up,” Jensa said. “Gather your
things, Reiv. We are leaving.”
    “What? Now? But I thought—”
    “Something’s happened and we don’t know what
the repercussions will be,” Torin said. “We need to get you out of
here, now.”
    “What’s happened?” Dayn asked. “What about
Market?”
    “Cancelled.” Jensa said.
    “Cancelled? But why?” Reiv asked.
    “Dayn,” Jensa said, “will you retrieve the
bundle Brina brought for Reiv last night.”
    Dayn nodded and headed for a cupboard against
the wall where he pulled out the parcel. He handed it to Reiv.
“Here, Reiv. Brina brought us our things last night and she brought
this for you.”
    “Our things?”
    “Yes, you know, Alicine’s dress and my
‘bottoms’.” Dayn forced a laugh. “And your sword.”
    “My sword? The Lion Sword?” Reiv’s jaw
dropped. “How did she get it?”
    “While we were in jail she slipped back to
your apartment and retrieved it along with our clothing,” Dayn
said. “She was afraid Crymm would remember you had the sword and go
back for it. She also didn’t want to risk our clothes being seized
and somehow used against us.”
    Reiv did not bother to unwrap the sword. He
knew it by touch, even beneath the cloth. He looked at Jensa and
Torin, both watching him with solemn expressions. “Why was Market
cancelled?” he asked. “Market is never cancelled.”
    Jensa approached him and placed a hand on his
shoulder. “I don’t know how to tell you, but there’s no way around
it. The King has passed. Your father is dead.”
    Reiv stood as though frozen, a current of
overwhelming emotion coursing through his veins. He could not make
sense of her words, though he knew exactly what she had said, nor
could he make his lips, his eyes, or any part of his body move in
response to them. The sword slipped from his hand and fell to the
floor with a clunk . For a long moment no one spoke and no
one breathed.
    “Reiv, we have to go,” Torin finally said.
“Whyn is King now, and we don’t know what this means for you. We
must get you out of here.”
    “I—I cannot go,” Reiv said, “I have to stay
for my father’s funeral. I am his son. He would expect me to be
there. He would—”
    “You know you can’t go.”
    “But I must. I have a duty to him.”
    “Reiv, please,” Jensa said.
    “He is my father!” Reiv screamed. “He is my
father!”
    He made a sudden dash for the door, fully
intent on running all the way to the palace to throw himself across
his father’s body and beg forgiveness.
    Torin grabbed him and held him tight. “You’re
going nowhere but back to Meirla with us,” he said.
    Reiv flew into a rage, swinging his fists
with all his might, writhing and kicking and shoving against the
man who would keep him from his father’s deathbed. He screamed, the
sound of it so loud he felt certain the Guard in Tearia would hear
him and come to his rescue. But no one came, and he soon found
himself flat on his back beneath Torin who could barely contain
him, and Dayn who had come to Torin’s aid.
    “Let me up!” Reiv shouted, tears of fury
streaming down his face. “You have no right to keep me here!”
    “Reiv, stop! Stop it now, do you hear me?”
Dayn yelled. “You’re not welcome in Tearia. You’re not welcome at
your father’s funeral. Your family doesn’t acknowledge you. Have
you forgotten? They’ll seize you the minute you step foot there.
Now, calm down and do what Torin tells you. You’ll do no one any
good dead and buried in a Jecta grave.”
    Reiv squeezed his eyes shut as sobs wracked
his body. Anger drained out of him, only to be replaced by despair.
He covered his eyes with his fists, intent on hiding his shame for
the way he had treated his father, intent on hiding the sorrow he
felt for the loss of him. At that moment the thought of a Jecta
grave seemed preferable to the overwhelming anguish he felt. How
much more did the gods expect him to