Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3)

by Jaye L. Knight

  Jace froze, paralyzed. The courtyard and those in it disappeared. Everything vanished except for the man who seemed to see right into the very deepest, darkest depths of his heart. Instant trembling gripped Jace and images from his past poured into his mind—all the men he had killed and injured, all the terrible things he had seen and done. Just like during the sacrifice, he could almost feel the shed blood dripping from his hands. Looking into this man’s eyes, all of it seemed laid bare before him. Every misdeed and sin. Yet no condemnation entered the man’s eyes, only compassion. A compassion Jace could not understand as his own guilty conscience convicted him.

  Overcome with shame, Jace tore his eyes away, his empty lungs gasping. He shook so violently, his legs almost gave out beneath him. He turned. He needed to hide himself—hide his guilt and unworthiness from the man’s sight. Pushing through the people, he fled. He thought he heard Rayad call to him, but he did not look back.

  On the other side of the gate he stumbled to the dragons, where he fell to his knees beside Gem, panting. Even here, the man’s face stuck in his mind. A numbing mix of awe and fear gripped him. It was undeniably clear. He had just come face to face with Elon, the very Son of Elôm.

  The darkness rolled in, unrelenting, oppressive, choking Jace. But then the light appeared, distant and faint. He stepped toward it, but chains and heavy burdens dragged him to his knees. Gasping, he clawed at the restraints around his wrists. He needed to reach the light. He must escape.

  “Jace.”

  The voice came from the light, beckoning him. In new desperation, he fought to remove the crushing weight that held him down.

  “Jace.”

  He struggled to release the burden but, somehow, it was inside him. It filled his body like lead and dragged him deeper down into the darkness. The light and the voice grew fainter. He screamed and tried to push to his feet, but was too weak.

  “Jace.”

  He jerked up, away from the hand on his shoulder, his limbs still weighted. His heart thrashed with the panic to escape. He couldn’t let the darkness take him! Slowly, the familiar sight of the sitting room sank in. Holden’s face hovered in front of him. He choked out one breath and then another. His throat was raw and tight. Had he screamed in his sleep?

  Holden handed him a glass of water, though Jace could only manage to drink half of it. His heart crashed painfully against his ribs. It was as if he could still feel himself sinking and fighting.

  “Jace, I really think you should talk about this.” Holden stared at him, his face grim.

  But at the thought of recounting even just part of his dreams, Jace trembled uncontrollably. He squeezed his fists until his nails dug into the skin of his palms and willed the spasms to subside. What was wrong with him? Never had he experienced such terror.

  With a heavy sigh, Holden sat down in a chair next to him. “You should talk to Elon.”

  Jace tensed. When the others had returned from Stonehelm the previous evening, they had come with words of wonder and excitement. He, however, could not speak of his encounter with Elon, of the shame he felt so strongly, even now.

  “I saw the people healed,” Holden went on. “The refugees, even those we weren’t sure would survive.” He paused and drew a deep breath as if pondering his own words. “I believe He can heal you too, of whatever troubles you.”

  Jace shook his head, and his eyes burned. He could not face Elon again. Not in this state. Yet, it sent such pain to his heart that he couldn’t breathe for a long moment. Deep down, he longed for that healing more than anything. It just seemed so far out of his reach, like the light in his dreams.

  For the next hour until dawn, they both sat in silence. Holden remained in his chair, his eyes closed, but the way his lips sometimes moved told Jace that he prayed, not rested. Jace needed rest—his entire body ached for it—but if he closed his eyes, he would just get sucked into another nightmare.

  When everyone gathered in the dining room for breakfast, Jace’s attention drifted in and out of the conversations. Talk centered around Elon, of course. They made allusions to His identity, some a little more sure than others. No one seemed sure whether they should say it outright or remain more cautious.

  But Jace knew.

  From the moment he had locked eyes with the man, he’d known exactly who he faced. The knowledge and memories of it would never leave him, and they burned his insides with a fire both amazing and frightening. Yet the shame of that moment rested most heavily within him. He had never seen his unworthiness as clearly as he had then—how utterly wretched he was. An unrelenting pressure squeezed his throat.

  Seeking a distraction, Jace focused on the discussion that had turned to the two men with Elon yesterday.

  “Aelos and Riyel, who do you think they are?” Kyrin asked.

  “I heard they came with Elon,” Aaron answered.

  “They certainly didn’t seem to be Samarans,” Josef said.

  Though they discussed the mystery surrounding the two men for another brief moment, conversation quickly returned to Elon.

  “I can’t wait to go back,” Kyrin said, and Timothy eagerly echoed these sentiments. “When Elon was speaking, didn’t you just feel like you could sit and listen forever?”

  Jace watched their eyes alight with wonder and radiant smiles, and he suddenly felt more alone than he had in a long time. It cut deep into his heart, splaying it open with intense pain. Instead of approaching in awe, he had fled. Instead of eagerly seeking, he had hidden. His stomach convulsed, destroying his appetite, and he left his food untouched.

  The moment they finished breakfast, everyone hurried to the dragons, eager to return to Stonehelm. Jace followed, but dread settled on him. Could he do this again?

  When they arrived outside the fortress, a crowd of people had already gathered inside. Perhaps they had never left. Jace’s heart pounded like a sledgehammer as he slid slowly down from Gem. Memories of yesterday attacked his mind, and all the deep and torturous emotions reemerged. He stood stiffly beside his dragon as the group started for the gate. After going a couple of yards, Rayad and Holden must have realized he wasn’t with them and turned back.

  “Are you coming?” Rayad asked.

  Jace looked from them to the gate and back, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He shook his head and managed a hoarse, “No.”

  Rayad traded a look with Holden and said, “I really think it would do you good.”

  Jace swallowed hard. “The crowd… I can’t.” He hung his head in shame, the real reason locked away inside him. “Just go.”

  Rayad and Holden stood for a long moment, but Jace did not look up until their footsteps moved on. Watching them and the others enter the fortress without him was like a knife in the chest. He struggled to breathe, but could not bring himself to follow. His eyes blurred with moisture, and he blinked hard; ashamed of his fear, ashamed of his failure, ashamed of his life.

  Breathing out a sigh that turned to a groan, he sank to the ground and leaned against Gem, her warm scales soothing the sore muscles in his back. He rested his head in his hands, too exhausted to make sense of anything or fight the fear that slowly consumed him.

  “Jace.”

  He jerked awake with a gasp, sunlight almost blinding him. Squinting, he looked around and found Gem staring intensely at him, much like Tyra did when he dreamed. He breathed out heavily. Somehow, he had fallen asleep. He glanced at the sun. It was a little past noon. He pushed to his feet and stretched his muscles, heavy with the remembrance of his dream. Though not as vivid as the one earlier, remnants of it clung to him and that voice still echoed in his head, though too faint to recognize. No matter how hard he fought to reach it, he always failed. A shiver raced down his spine. He seemed to spend more and more time in that consuming darkness these days.

  Running his hand through his sweat-dampened hair, he turned, his gaze landing on the fortress. His pulse picked up. He thought of Kyrin, Rayad, Holden, and the others inside. Yearning rose up
within him, but he grimaced. How could he join them after yesterday? Maybe in the crowd he could stay hidden and at least be near them. Wouldn’t that be better than sitting here?

  He drew in a hard breath and moved his feet forward before he could talk himself out of it. Though he fought to maintain his courage, his pace slowed when he reached the gate. He peered in hesitantly, but could see nothing past the gathered villagers. However, the hum of a voice reached him and tugged at his heart, drawing him into the courtyard.

  Jace inched closer, and the voice grew clearer. Finally, through the people, he spotted Elon sitting in the midst of them. Jace’s heart beat faster, and it was as if two opposing forces pulled at him—one to flee and the other to draw nearer. He took another step forward and then another.

  In the crowd, he caught sight of Kyrin and Timothy sitting close and listening with rapt attention to everything Elon said. The longing to join them took his breath away, forcing a hard lump to his throat. He swallowed it down. Movement on the other side of Elon drew his attention. The little girl, Anya, approached Elon timidly. The moment He noticed her, He extended His hand, and she came to Him, her face beaming. Smiling down at her, He touched her cheek gently, and Jace’s heart nearly failed in yearning for such tender love. Why couldn’t he be like that little girl, or Kyrin, or Timothy?

  Then Elon looked up and found him in the crowd. Jace stilled, only able to comprehend Elon’s presence. For a brief moment, he saw all the love he longed for right in front of him as if Elon were stretching out His hand to Jace. But the darkness of his past was there in a moment to remind him that he wasn’t anything like the innocent little girl who had approached. He was stained by blood he never should have shed and filled with a blood he could not control. An animal to most, and unworthy of love.

  Jace turned his face away, the shame crushing him. Once again, he fled. If only he could hide himself from all those around him. What if they too could see what he was? Yet every step away ripped his heart to shreds. Back outside the wall, he choked on tears that filled his eyes, but didn’t fall. Trying to catch his breath, he sank to the ground in agony.

  The following day, Jace refused to return to Stonehelm. He didn’t have the strength to bear the pain of it. He had barely slept during the night, but now even his waking hours were almost as torturous as his dreams. He grew increasingly desperate for relief, but could not find it anywhere. The others begged him to come with them, but even Kyrin couldn’t change his mind.

  He passed the day sitting alone with Gem. She would watch him and make mournful noises when he didn’t respond. He wanted to, but the turmoil inside left him powerless to do much of anything. Off and on he would sleep, only because his body shut down, but every moment of it was torment.

  That night was the same, and Holden had to wake him multiple times. By morning, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His hands shaking with weakness, he could barely dress himself. Food would help, but his stomach was so knotted he didn’t think he could hold anything down.

  Oblivious to anything but the consuming struggle, he followed the quiet group to breakfast, but someone took his arm to hold him back. He looked down into Kyrin’s wide, blue eyes. Her jaw and lips were tight, and her skin pale. She waited until the room emptied before speaking in a trembling voice.

  “Jace, I’m scared.” He didn’t understand at first, but she continued, “For you. I’ve never seen you like this.” She stared up at him, searching his eyes and seeing everything he couldn’t hide. “What’s wrong?”

  Emotion rushed into his throat, squeezing off his voice. He opened his mouth, but had no words for her. No words to describe or explain the pain inside. None of them could understand. Overwhelmed, he only shook his head. He closed his eyes, unsteady.

  “Sit down.” Kyrin guided him to a chair.

  He sank into it, and Kyrin stood before him.

  “Please, come with us today,” she begged. “Listen to Elon. Talk to Him.”

  Jace hung his head, unable to answer her plea.

  “Don’t you see?” she urged. “This is what I’ve been praying for. He can help you, Jace… He can answer the questions you have.”

  Jace’s eyes snapped to hers, his heart seizing. That was the very core of the struggle. For the first time in his life, he could finally know. Did he have a soul? Yet, now that he had the chance to find out, it terrified him like nothing he had ever faced before. What if he found out he didn’t? How could he live the rest of his life with such knowledge? It was better not to know for sure.

  Kyrin knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “I know you’re afraid, but please, you have to do this.”

  He shook his head, his breath shallow. He wanted to be strong for her, but he was weak. Weaker than he had ever imagined.

  She squeezed his hands, her eyes pleading. “Then let me. I’ll talk to Him for you.”

  “No.” The word broke out raw and desperate. “Please, don’t.” He couldn’t abide the thought of her discovering he had no soul and how she would look at him then.

  “Jace . . .”

  “Please,” he gasped. “Don’t.”

  Tears gathered in Kyrin’s eyes and dripped down her cheeks. “I want to help you.”

  The anguish in her voice was almost too much to bear.

  “I know, but . . .” He swallowed hard. “I don’t think you can.”

  Her eyes slid closed, the tears streaming. After a moment, she composed herself and looked at him again. “I can’t force you to, but I am begging you to consider going to Elon. Please. You can’t go on like this and… I don’t want to lose you.” She drove the plea in with a look of intense desperation.

  How could he deny her when he loved her so much? For her, he would consider it, but could not promise. “I’ll think about it,” he whispered.

  Kyrin nodded and wiped her cheeks as she rose. “Come on. I know it’s hard, but you must eat. You need the strength.” She held out her hand.

  Jace gazed at it a moment and then took it, the warmth and connection like a lifeline to his battered heart. She helped him up and did not let go for a long moment before turning and leading the way downstairs.

  The sun arched over the sky as Jace wrestled inside himself—yearning against fear, hope against doubt. He was caught in the midst of a battle he had no control over and no strength to fight. Kyrin’s words repeated in his head as he paced near Gem. At one point, he nearly got on her back to fly to Stonehelm, but fear crippled him.

  Late in the afternoon, he could stand it no longer. He needed relief or he would go mad. He needed comfort. Something familiar. He set his gaze on the distant trees. It had been days since he had been in the forest. He set out toward it as if it somehow held an answer. Gem chirped uncertainly behind him, but he commanded her to stay.

  Focusing on the trees, he attempted to leave the struggle behind him, if only for a brief respite. The dark green foliage drew closer with every desperate step, and, after a mile and a half, the shade of the trees engulfed him. Here he paused to catch his breath from the walk, but then pushed on, into the forest.

  The sunshine filtering through the canopy gave him the first breath of peace he had felt in over a week. He breathed it in deeply, willing it not to abandon him again. As he went deeper, the forest reminded him of life back at the farm. It had been a while since he had thought about it. Back when life was hard at times, but not a constant struggle. Oh, to be back there. His eyes grew wet, and he rubbed them.

  From the farm, his thoughts turned to his mother. He longed for her embrace, but she seemed so terribly far away. Why had their lives taken such painful turns? Why couldn’t they have just turned out all right?

  Jace wandered on through the forest until the sun grew dim. By this time, his legs burned with exertion, so he sat down at the base of a tree to rest and gazed around the shadows. He was more comfortable in the forest—protected… hidden.

  And very alone.

  He suddenly ached for Tyra. She
was always such a faithful companion.

  Sighing, Jace rested his head back and closed his eyes. He should get back to the castle. The others would worry if they returned and found him missing. He had quite a ways to go and would have to hurry, but the weariness settling in his limbs was too great to fight.

  The courtyard had gone dim and quiet. Most of the villagers had returned home or entered the keep for supper. Trask and the other men had gone to find Balen, but Kyrin remained to watch Elon interact with the remaining people. All day she and Timothy had sat and listened to him speak of Elôm and His will, but she had yet to speak with Elon herself. Her heart desired to have even just a moment alone with Him, but she hung back in reverence. Were her questions worth asking? It wasn’t as if they were profound or important to anyone but her personally.

  A moment later, He turned and caught sight of her. His ready smile immediately made her feel foolish for thinking her thoughts wouldn’t be important to Him. Before she could move, He crossed the courtyard toward her.

  “Kyrin,” He said in a gentle voice of comfortable familiarity.

  The very fact that He knew her name without her telling Him warmed her heart. It struck her how tired He looked. Speaking and teaching all day would tire anyone, but she had never expected Him to be so human, and it drew her even more to Him.

  “You have much on your mind,” He said.

  Kyrin nodded. “My father . . .” She hesitated. What was it that she even wanted to ask? She just missed her father so. Any knowledge of him now would soothe the ache.

  Elon put a gentle hand on her shoulder, understanding in His eyes. “I know how you miss him, but your father served Elôm well and is now experiencing a life like nothing you can imagine. Both he and your grandfather.”

  Kyrin gasped, her heart leaping. “My grandfather, Jonavan… he did believe?”

  At Elon’s nod of confirmation, Kyrin let out a shaky breath. Ever since hearing the story from Rayad, she had hoped her grandfather had turned to Elôm before he was executed. To know was more wonderful than she’d imagined, and she couldn’t wait to tell her brothers.