Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3)
Page 3
“Right.” Their mother nodded at Talas. “If he thought you were going down, that sounds serious.”
Kaden looked over his shoulder at Talas, probably hoping he would downplay the whole thing, but the crete merely shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in his bright green eyes. Turning back to his mother, Kaden insisted, “Really, I was fine. Exsis wasn’t going to let me fall.”
Their mother let out an exasperated sigh. “I just want you to be careful.”
“I am, but flying always involves risk, especially if we’re going to have to defend ourselves against attack someday. Now,” he quickly changed the subject, “do you have any coffee made?”
Lenae gestured to the pot hanging next to the fireplace. “Help yourselves.”
“Thanks.” Kaden walked over to it, his gaze catching the fresh bread. “When is that for?”
“Later,” their mother said. She still didn’t look entirely pleased with him.
As he and Talas each poured a cup of coffee, Kyrin joined them. “Speaking of attacks, how is training coming?”
Kaden nodded enthusiastically. “Great. If Daican does come looking for us, we’ll have a good dozen extra men to form a defense.”
“Good,” Kyrin murmured.
Their encounter with the emperor’s hybrid dragons—firedrakes—last fall left their camp in jeopardy. Though well-hidden from any ground search, an airborne force could spot them easily. It changed the dynamics of their plans. Trask had set up camp for refugees of the emperor’s persecution, but this was no longer an option. Now it served as more of a waystation to prepare and send people east, farther away from Daican’s reach.
“With the weather getting warmer, Captain Darq will probably soon send help to lead the people to safety,” Talas said. “Then, if we are attacked, at least we won’t have a lot of civilians in harm’s way.”
Kaden agreed. “I wonder if Trask will start setting up other camps to house the militia. At least then we won’t lose everything if we have to evacuate.”
Kyrin glanced at her mother while the men continued discussing these plans. Kaden, Marcus, and Liam would no doubt remain here in camp, but she wasn’t sure yet about her mother and younger brothers. Would they move farther east with the other refugees? She wanted them safe, of course, but hated the thought of breaking up their family again. The last few months together had been something she’d only ever dreamed of experiencing.
Once the men finished their coffee, they set their cups in the washbasin and headed for the door. However, the bread at the table distracted Kaden again.
“Are you sure I can’t have a piece now?”
Their mother shook her head. “You are quite the nuisance.”
“Just like in Tarvin Hall,” Kyrin chimed in, giving her brother a wry look, “except the cook there loved to feed him. I think she liked the flattery.”
“You can have a piece of mine, Kaden.” Meredith came around the table and took his hand.
“You made bread?” he asked in a surprised tone that delighted her.
Meredith nodded. “Look. See?” She pointed out the perfect little golden-brown loaf.
“Meri, I would love to have a piece of your bread.” He bent down, whispering by her ear, “My mother won’t give me any.”
Meredith giggled, and Lydia tried to give him a look of annoyance, but it was lost in a smile.
“Kyrin, can you cut it for me?” Meredith asked.
“Of course.”
While Kyrin sliced the loaf, Meredith ran over to get a little plate from the cupboard and put a piece of bread on it for Kaden.
“Mmm,” he breathed as he took his first bite. “You know, Meri, I think you’re going to have to bake bread for me all the time.”
Meredith twisted her hands together, her face aglow with a grin as she watched him eat. Then she remembered, “Oh, I need to take a piece to Warin. Can you help me find him?”
Kaden swallowed his last bite. “Sure.”
Meredith rushed for another plate, asking Lenae for help with the butter. Kyrin stepped closer to her brother. “I think she has a crush on you.”
He smiled, loving every minute of it.
When Meredith had her coat on and had retrieved the bread, which included a slathering of butter sure to make Warin smile, she and Kaden headed out the door with Talas. As it closed on their happy chatter, Kyrin chuckled, and her mother and Lenae joined in. Kyrin cherished these moments. They had gone through so much to get here. The thought of it ending pinched her stomach. She looked at both her mother and Lenae.
“So, now that spring is here, are you going to stay or leave for somewhere safer?”
They processed the question for a moment, and Lenae spoke first.
“I just talked to Jeremy about this. This camp has become home. I don’t have any intention of leaving unless I have to.”
That gave Kyrin a good measure of comfort, and she turned her gaze to her mother, who smiled.
“Don’t worry, dear; we’re not going anywhere. We’re all in this together.”
The weather couldn’t have been better for a celebration. After almost a week of rain, Kyrin and Kaden’s eighteenth birthday had arrived with splendid springtime weather, full of sunshine and warmth. And for the first time since the sacrifice, Jace found his spirits lifting. The joy radiating from Kyrin’s smile alone lightened his mood. He liked to see her having a good time. It was their first outdoor community meal of the year, and Anne and her parents had come out to celebrate. Cheery talk and laughter filled the campsite, and Jace quietly enjoyed it from the background. He would personally wish Kyrin a happy birthday later when some of the fuss had died down.
He watched her from his seat at one of the tables they had carried out from the cabins. Her mother had given her a new dress the color of forget-me-nots. Not only did the short-sleeved garment complement her slender figure, but it brought out the color of her eyes like he had never seen. Meredith had also provided her with a crown woven of snow violets. It made her look so innocent and almost childlike, but he was keenly aware that she was a woman, growing in beauty and maturity every day.
He let out a light sigh and tried to silence the possibilities and what-ifs that rose up from a longing in his heart—a persistent longing that both scared and shocked him. Feeling it grow over the last few months showed him just how careful he needed to be, determined to bury them so deep they would never find their way out. After all, she was his closest friend. He didn’t know what he would ever do without her and wouldn’t jeopardize that. There were too many reasons why he could never let it become anything more than it was now.
After the meal came the gift-giving. Everyone had something for the twins. A smile tugged at Jace’s lips as Kyrin accepted each gift with delight. His anticipation grew to give her his own gift. He hoped she would like it. He’d spent the last few weeks working on it. Once most of their friends had come forward, Jace murmured to Rayad, “I’m going to get my gift.”
He nodded and smiled as Jace rose and headed off to the supply shack where he had kept it. The laughter and voices lingered behind him, fading to a light hum as he passed the cabins, out of sight of the gathering.
“Where’re you sneakin’ off to?”
The slurred voice stopped Jace. To his right, behind one of the cabins, Mister Hagen staggered toward him, his hair and clothing disheveled. No doubt he had started out looking presentable, thanks to his dedicated daughter, but just like a child he didn’t stay neat for long. Jace wondered if the man had somehow gotten into some liquor, but it was difficult to tell. Either way, it was best to try to ignore him, and Jace continued on his way.
“I’m talk… talkin’ to you,” Hagen’s halting voice trailed after him. “You took my wife.”
Jace stopped at the door of the supply shack and glanced over his shoulder. The man bumbled along behind him. He frowned, his tone low. “I had nothing to do with your wife.”
The man didn’t seem to hear him. “You’re a… murderer.�
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Jace’s eyes slid closed in a grimace. He couldn’t refute that. He breathed out slowly. Just get the gift and go. He couldn’t let himself stand here and think too long. Guilt was too quick to take hold of him these days, and he didn’t want Kyrin to sense him sinking back into a dark mood.
A sound invaded his consciousness; a mere whisper of a sound that sent a prickling sensation down his back—the chilling hiss of metal. He spun around right as Hagen dove at him with a dagger. Jace sidestepped and shoved Hagen away. If not for his swift fighting reflexes, the blade would have plunged right into his chest.
The man stumbled, and then crashed to the ground. He let out a muffled groan.
Jace stood, clenching his fists as warmth stirred his blood. He willed it away. The man wasn’t in his right mind. He didn’t truly know what he was doing. Jace waited for him to rise. He needed to make this man understand that he wasn’t an enemy. But Hagen did not get up.
A breath-halting cold gripped Jace, extinguishing all traces of anger. He rushed to Hagen’s side and rolled him over. The man gasped, his eyes rounded and uncomprehending. Slowly, his gaze slid down to the dagger hilt protruding from between his ribs. Glaring red seeped through the fabric of his shirt.
Jace’s heart stopped. No! “Help.” His plea came only as a whisper, but he forced his voice to break free. “Someone help!”
He couldn’t tear his gaze from the stain overtaking Hagen’s shuddering chest. No, not again. Not more spilled blood.
“Please!” he prayed in desperation.
Wheezing, Hagen reached for the dagger, but Jace held his hand away. The blood would flow more freely if the blade were removed. Footsteps rushed up behind him. He looked up, a horrible ache gripping his stomach as his friends approached. Rising, he backed away from Hagen to let Lenae and the others near him. She knelt down, inspecting the wound, but her grave expression offered Jace no comfort. After all, she wasn’t a trained physician. If only Leetra were back from gathering information in Valcré. Perhaps she could have done something.
“What happened?”
Only now did Jace take his gaze from Hagen, meeting Rayad, who stood at his side. “He came at me with the knife. I pushed him and he fell. I didn’t mean to. . .” His voice broke off. If only he had just dodged the attack instead of pushing him!
Rayad rested his hand on Jace’s shoulder and started to speak, but a cry cut off his words.
“Father!” Hagen’s daughter, Alice, broke through the growing crowd. She gasped, her face sickeningly white, and dropped down beside him. “Father!” she cried again, tears choking her voice.
He wheezed out her name, and she took his hand. His eyes locked on her a moment and then slid closed. With a final, shuddering breath, he went still.
“No! Father!” She shook him as everyone backed away to give her a little space. “Please, Father, no!”
Her anguished cries ripped gaping wounds in Jace’s heart that immediately filled with guilt. It was one of his nightmares come to life. Real and irreversible. There would be no waking up to find it only a dream.
Sobbing, Alice looked around as if trying to find an answer. Her gaze came to Jace, locking with his, and pain-fueled anger joined the grief in her eyes.
“You!” She stumbled to her feet. “You did this!” She rushed at him, and beat her fists against his chest. “You killed him! He was a harmless old man, but you just killed him. Murderer!”
Jace couldn’t move, couldn’t find a way to explain that he hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t meant to kill him. Her fists were nothing compared to the sting of her accusations. They pounded into his head, and soon he didn’t think he could deny them. A man was dead. If he had not been there, it never would have happened. It was his fault.
Holden stepped in, prying the young woman away from Jace and holding her back. She struggled against him, still shouting her accusations until she finally dissolved into tears. Lenae came forward to comfort her, and Holden turned to Jace.
Now Jace noticed Rayad, Kyrin, Kaden, and the others gathered around him.
“Jace, are you all right?” Kyrin looked at him, her eyes wide and full of emotion.
He couldn’t answer, Alice’s agony still digging into him, tearing him up inside.
“It was an accident,” Rayad told him.
This finally broke Jace from the paralysis of shock. He backed away from them. They could say what they wanted, tell him it was an accident, but the rising guilt told him otherwise. He could have done something different—anything different—and Hagen would still be alive.
“Jace, stop.”
Rayad reached out to him, but Jace shook his head and turned away. He headed straight toward the forest, ignoring Rayad’s plea to wait. Then came Kyrin’s desperate voice.
“Jace, come back.”
His steps faltered, but he couldn’t bear to face her. Not after what he had just done. She called to him again, and a fierce ache pressed into his heart. Still, he pushed on, not looking back. When he reached the edge of camp, he walked faster and faster until he was almost running. He paid no attention to direction or location; he just went—trying to escape, just like in his dreams. And just like the many nameless faces in his dreams, Alice’s voice echoed in his mind, convicting him of all the lives he had taken.
Warm air soaked into Kyrin’s damp cheeks as she stepped inside the cabin and dispelled a little of the chill that had overtaken her. She pushed back her hood and untied the strings of her waterlogged cloak. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the questioning looks her mother and Lenae sent her way. The knot in her stomach bunched more tightly and the moisture in her eyes rose a little farther. Facing them, she shook her head.
“Nothing. We looked everywhere. The stream and everywhere he usually goes, but he wasn’t there, and any sign that he was has been washed away by the rain.”
She rubbed her sore eyes. She’d hardly slept last night. Jace had been gone for almost twenty-four hours. He had never disappeared for so long before, not while she had known him.
Hanging her cloak by the door, she sank down in a chair at the table where the other women worked on sewing.
Her mother offered her an encouraging look, optimism lighting her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll turn up soon and will be just fine.”
Kyrin breathed out a deep sigh. Her own optimism had grown rather dim. “Normally, I would believe that, but he went off without any warm clothes, food, or even a weapon. It’s cold out there. Too cold to wander around in the rain dressed as he was when he left. I know this sounds crazy, but what if he got lost? It could happen to any of us, especially if he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.”
And in his state of mind, she doubted he had. She sighed again, her shoulders sagging under the weight of grim possibilities. If only he had stayed and let her and Rayad help him through this! “I’m sorry. It’s just that I keep seeing the look on his face when he left, and I hate to think of him out there alone.”
“Don’t forget Tyra is with him,” Lenae said gently. “Even if she isn’t human, she can provide comfort, warmth, and protection, and guide him back if he is lost.”
A small flame of comfort finally grew amidst Kyrin’s doubt. Lenae was right. At least Jace’s wolf had been able to follow him when none of the rest of them could. This comfort intensified when Lenae added, “And he may not think so, but you know and we know that Elôm, too, is out there with him.”
How Kyrin prayed He would keep Jace safe and bring him back. She couldn’t bear to lose someone else, especially not Jace. She cared for him too deeply.
After a moment of silence, Kyrin’s mother suggested, “Why don’t you go work with Timothy? I’m sure it will help you feel much better while you’re waiting.”
Kyrin considered it. She did have some questions to ask Timothy. With a nod, she stood and went to the door, where she slipped on her coat as she stepped outside. Hurrying through the rain, she reached Trask’s cabin and knocked.
On the way to the table, Kyrin exchanged a glance with Rayad. He stood near the fire talking to Warin as he warmed up from the search with her and Kaden. He offered a small but reassuring smile. While everyone was worried about Jace’s wellbeing, it wasn’t quite the same as the concern she shared with Rayad.
Timothy gave her a warm smile as well when she took a seat near him. He and his brother, Aaron, had returned a couple of weeks ago from spending the winter with their crete relatives in Dorland. Once they had settled in, Kyrin had begun helping Timothy make copies of the King’s Scrolls, something they had discussed late last fall. The process of copying each line of Scripture was long, but worth every moment, especially with Timothy there to explain difficult passages so knowledgeably. He had a real gift for that.
“How are you?” he asked.
Timothy was one of the kindest and most caring individuals Kyrin had ever met. He looked a bit tired this morning, and Kyrin had no doubt he had been up late praying for Jace and his safe return. He always put others before himself that way.
Kyrin breathed out slowly. Just being around Timothy made her aware of her spiritual shortcomings, yet it was a good awareness. One that made her strive to do better. That was another thing Timothy was good at—inspiring the faith of others.
“Honestly, I’m struggling. My mother thought this would be the best use of my time while I’m waiting. She’s right, of course. Sitting and worrying won’t make Jace show up.”
Timothy nodded in understanding. “I’m sure he’ll be here before long.”
Kyrin wanted with all her heart to believe that. Before she really thought about it, she said, “I’m just afraid he won’t come back at all.” Deep down, it was her greatest fear.