Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3)

by Jaye L. Knight

  “One day,” Elon told her, “you and your family will join them.”

  Kyrin covered her mouth as tears dribbled down her cheeks. Such a thought left her nearly bursting with joy. One day her family would be complete and never have to endure the ache of separation again.

  “Thank You,” she managed in a whisper, but her thoughts immediately turned to Jace. He was as much a part of her family as her parents and brothers.

  “You think of Jace.”

  Kyrin lifted her eyes to Elon, holding His gaze as her heart pounded. She thought of Jace’s fear that morning. She ached to console him, to discover the truth that could free him from his fears, but he had begged her not to. How could she go against him?

  An even worse thought struck fear into her. For the first time, she wondered, what if he didn’t have a soul? What if everyone was right about ryriks? How could she bear to know that? It would tear her heart apart. Yet, the mystery of it and watching him suffer so deeply already accomplished that.

  Trembling, her mouth went dry and her voice scratched past her throat before she was sure she was ready for the answer. “Does he have a soul?”

  “Jace.”

  He opened his eyes to the shadowy dimness of night. For just a moment, he thought he was back at camp, by the stream, but remembrance flooded in. He was many miles from Landale. He looked around to get his bearings in the strange forest. He’d never meant to fall asleep, especially for so long. Pushing to his feet, he looked up at the sky. Moonlight flickered in the branches. It was late. Kyrin would be worried sick.

  Jace turned in the direction of Westing Castle and froze. A cold, slithering sensation prickled along his spine and arms. His senses focused in an instant, his gaze sweeping the trees. Something watched him from nearby, but who could say what? The region was a mystery to him. Balen’s story of the wildcat rushed to the front of his mind, and he reached for his sword, only to find air. He grimaced. He’d left it in his room. His hunting knife too, and he called himself every kind of fool.

  Taking stock of his surroundings for anything to use to his advantage, he moved slowly in the direction from which he had come. Perhaps whatever it was would let him go without ever showing itself.

  Leaves rustled, but there was no breeze. He halted. The heat of his blood rose as adrenaline worked through his body. His gaze darted to the darkest shadows, searching. He breathed slowly and listened for the slightest sounds, but his drumming heart made it difficult.

  With a soft thud, something dropped to the ground behind him. He spun around, expecting a stealthy wildcat, but he found himself looking down into a stern face with large, iron-blue eyes. His breath left him. He took a halting step backward, but a blade pressed into his back between his shoulder blades. He glanced over his shoulder to see a second crete, but he focused on the familiar one before him.

  “Not a smart move to wander about alone and unarmed.” Falcor’s piercing eyes glittered threateningly in the moonlight.

  A sharp kick to the back of the knee sent Jace to the ground. He bit back a groan, breathing hard through his teeth.

  “Better,” Falcor said, now able to look down on him instead.

  Jace glared up at the crete. Right about now he wished for a wildcat instead. He would have stood a better chance of survival.

  “Are we going to kill him?” the other crete asked in such a cold, pitiless tone that it sent ice through Jace.

  His chest heaved as he fought the way his blood surged and willed him to fight. Had they been human, he would have taken his chances, but he had seen Talas sparring before. Cretes were far too quick to take by surprise. Falcor would have his blade through Jace’s heart before he even gained his feet.

  The crete’s sword caught the moonlight as he placed it at Jace’s throat and tipped his chin up. The sharp point pricked Jace’s neck. He held Falcor’s gaze, finding no mercy. The man had once killed one of his own. Why would he spare Jace’s life? Falcor’s face hardened even more, as if thinking the same thing. Jace held his breath and waited for him to slice his throat.

  However, Falcor pulled his blade away and looked at the second crete. “We’ll take him to camp.”

  In silence, the other crete grabbed Jace’s wrist, swiftly tying a rope around it and wrenching his other arm back to secure them tightly. He cut off the excess rope and tossed the extra length to Falcor, who tied a loop in one end. He fitted it over Jace’s head and tugged it snuggly against his throat. Jace clenched his teeth. So they were going to treat him like a stray dog?

  “Get up.”

  Defiance took hold, and Jace did not move immediately, but Falcor’s warning glare prompted him into motion. He stumbled to his feet, his knees a bit wobbly. Jerking the rope, Falcor plunged deeper into the forest, the other crete trailing behind them.

  They moved almost silently through the trees. Under normal circumstances, Jace could navigate a forest with ease, but even after sleep his weariness weighed on his feet. Whenever he slowed or stumbled, Falcor gave the rope a hard jerk, nearly pulling him off balance. The rough cord burned against his neck and made it difficult to breathe.

  They marched on for about a mile before Jace caught sight of a fire flickering ahead. Had he kept on earlier, he may have stumbled upon it himself. Not that the outcome would have been any more pleasant. When they drew near, he counted two more figures around the fire—one a crete and the other a man. But a few larger shapes at the perimeter of the small camp grabbed his full attention—three dragons and a massive black firedrake.

  As they entered the clearing and neared the fire, the burly man gave him a hostile look. “Who’s that?”

  Falcor stopped and yanked on the rope. Jace stumbled forward and fell to his knees, coughing. He longed to reach up and loosen the choking pressure. He should have been prepared.

  “This is one of the Landale group. The half-ryrik.” Falcor’s tone oozed disgust.

  “What’re you gonna do with him?” the man questioned, eyeing Jace as his fingers closed around the large dagger at his side.

  “I haven’t decided yet.” Falcor stepped around in front of Jace and tightened his grip on the rope until Jace looked up at him. “How much do you know of the king’s plans?”

  Jace glanced past Falcor to the others, just now considering what they were doing in Samara. It made sense that they were here to spy and gather information. He returned his gaze to Falcor and clamped his mouth shut. The crete snorted. Barely giving Jace the time to rise, he strode across camp, dragging Jace with him, and tied the rope securely to the trunk of the nearest tree.

  Here, Jace sank down as Falcor joined his companions at the fire to pour himself a cup of coffee. Jace glared at each of them, but a low, rumbling growl drew his attention to the firedrake. He had only seen them airborne before now. The hideous creature bared its teeth at one of the nearby dragons, who hissed back.

  At the fire, the man snapped a harsh command. The ill-tempered firedrake released a final growl and backed off, its black eyes reflecting orange in the firelight. Jace shivered. Normally, he had a soft spot for all animals, but firedrakes were an exception.

  He shifted his gaze to his captors again, and found Falcor staring at him. He stared back, his muscles tensing. The two of them had been on bad terms from the start, and this traitorous crete was the one responsible for the death of Kyrin’s father. Jace’s blood heated again, and he strained against his bonds, but knot-tying was an art-form to the cretes. He would never work them loose.

  “We’ll take him to Valcré.”

  Everyone looked to Falcor at this sudden announcement.

  “Why not just kill him and save the trouble?” the man asked.

  “The emperor may have questions for him, and he’s been waiting to get his hands on someone from Landale. Would you like to tell him why we didn’t bring him in?”

  The man didn’t respond.

  “You two,” Falcor looked at the two other cretes, “keep an eye on things here, but find a new campsite.
Someone’s bound to come looking for him.”

  They nodded, and Falcor turned to the man. “Hyde, you’ll come with me. We leave at dawn.”

  He probably wanted to have the big man along to help guard and restrain Jace.

  With these plans settled, the group gathered closer to the fire. Jace swallowed hard against the rope around his neck. He couldn’t decide what was worse—the thought of immediate execution or facing the emperor. Either way, he was a dead man. He considered how far Valcré was. How far away from everyone he cared about. The pressure in his throat doubled. They would never know what happened to him. And Kyrin would be in the midst of war, and he couldn’t make sure she stayed safe. He had already failed the very reason he had come here in the first place.

  Jace bowed his head. Why had he wandered into this forest? Why hadn’t he just stayed at the castle? A desperate, soundless sob burst in his chest. Why hadn’t he gone to Stonehelm with Kyrin, as she had begged him to? He blinked the burning from his eyes, but the pain in his heart intensified. He would never see her again. He had watched her fly off with the others, not knowing it would be the last time he ever saw her face. Invisible daggers pierced his chest. In desperation, he twisted his wrists against the rope. Hopeless as it may be, he had to try.

  The first chirp of morning birds sent despair deep into Jace’s gut. The only thing he had accomplished through the night was to rub skin away from his wrists. If anything, the rope only felt tighter, and his arms burned from the strain.

  Falcor stood at the fire, never once sleeping. The other two cretes had for a couple of hours, and Hyde still snored in his bedroll. With his perpetual scowl, Falcor walked over to the man and nudged him with his foot.

  “Get up. It’s time to go.”

  Hyde jerked and grumbled before pushing himself up with a gaping yawn. Falcor returned to the fire, where he dished a bowl from a pot of porridge. Striding toward Jace, he set the bowl down and bent to look Jace straight on. He planted his hand firmly on the hilt of his dagger.

  “You make one move to escape, and I will kill you.”

  Jace just stared at him. Part of him wanted to try just to spite him, but wisdom won out. Falcor moved around behind him, tugging at the rope around his wrists until the knots came free. Jace pulled his hands around in front of him and flexed his tingling fingers. He winced when the chilly air stung his wrists.

  At the sight of the raw and oozing skin, Falcor snorted in derision. He then gestured to the bowl. “Eat.”

  With this curt command he walked away, but was ever watchful.

  Moving cautiously, Jace worked a little more slack into the loop around his neck and reached for the bowl. Just looking at the sticky substance knotted his stomach, but he wouldn’t have enough strength to face the day, let alone the whole journey to Valcré, if he didn’t eat something. He took a bite, forcing himself to swallow. The action pained his bruised throat.

  Falcor and Hyde ate quickly and were soon saddling up. Jace recognized Falcor’s dragon and the scars in its wing, from where Leetra’s dragon had ripped it. His gaze shifted to Hyde, who saddled the firedrake. The creature balked at first, but Hyde gave it a stinging rap on the shoulder with a small club, and it submitted with a grumble in its throat. Unfortunate that the beast didn’t just snap the man up and then turn on the others. It would create the perfect distraction.

  Once their supplies were packed, Falcor approached Jace again with rope in hand. He tied Jace’s wrists in front of him this time, heedless of the wounded flesh. Jace ground his teeth. Loosing the other rope from the tree, he pulled Jace up and led him straight to the firedrake.

  “Climb on.”

  Jace’s heart surged into his throat. He had only ever flown with Gem. He trusted her, but being in the air on this beast brought his fear of heights rushing to the forefront. It locked up his joints, freezing him in place.

  Hyde struck him with the same club he had used on the firedrake, and sharp pain pulsed through Jace’s shoulder.

  “Get up there!”

  Jace sucked in his breath through his teeth. He had no choice unless he wanted them to kill him now. Spasms trembled up his arms and through the rest of his body as he reached for the saddle. His limbs protested every move. Once astride the giant beast, he gripped the saddle, each breath shallow. His tongue was like dry wood in his mouth. It was like the first time he had flown all over again, but he had no friends around to offer encouragement or allow him time to gather his courage. He fought to hide his fear, but must have done a poor job of it. Hyde chuckled cruelly as he climbed up and tied Jace’s bound hands to the saddle itself. Jace’s heart missed a beat. Actually being attached to the beast was even worse.

  Falcor took off first. The lumbering firedrake spread its wide wings and flapped hard three times before gaining any air. It didn’t soar gracefully into the sky like a dragon. Each jerking lunge upward sucked Jace’s stomach toward his feet. He shut his eyes tightly and struggled not to be sick.

  Once above the trees, he finally opened them. The glow of sunlight tinged the eastern horizon. He looked over his shoulder to the north and, in the distance, just made out the dark smudge of Westing Castle. Pain and longing gripped him, but in moments the sight disappeared. After only a short time, they left Samara behind them.

  A stomach-churning unease woke Kyrin. She sat up abruptly and looked around. She was in bed, but still fully clothed. Her heart pounded heavily, and her thoughts jumped straight to Jace. They had looked everywhere for him when they’d returned. It wasn’t unlike him to disappear in times of distress, but she needed to speak to him as soon as possible. She had been prepared to wait up for him. Rayad was supposed to come for her the moment he returned.

  She looked over at Leetra, who stood near the window as early morning sunlight lit up the sky. Even her normally stoic expression held a hint of sympathy and concern. Kyrin slid out of bed and rushed straight to the sitting room. Both Rayad and Holden were there, neither one appearing as though they had slept.

  “He isn’t here?”

  Rayad shook his head.

  A cold numbness flushed through Kyrin’s body. She took a breath. This wasn’t out of the ordinary. Jace did this. He would soon show up. Even so, an uncontrollable panic gnawed at her. She had to find him. She had to tell him.

  Rayad and Holden rose.

  “We’ll go look for him,” Rayad said. “Right away.”

  Kyrin breathed out, glad they would not wait. It couldn’t wait. Not for anything.

  They joined the others in the hall and went downstairs.

  “Has your friend returned?” Balen asked in genuine concern when they met him in the dining room.

  “No,” Rayad said.

  “We could ask around the village. Someone has surely seen him.”

  “He wouldn’t be in the village,” Kyrin replied. He would get as far away from other people as he could. “For solitude, he would have gone to the forest.”

  Rayad nodded. “She’s right.”

  “Let’s go then,” Holden said.

  Kaden and Talas volunteered to join them while the others remained behind in case he showed up. Just as they were about to leave, the door opened, and a guard brought Elon, Aelos, and Riyel inside. Everyone turned to them, and Elon stepped forward.

  “I’m here about Jace,” He said. “He was captured by enemy spies and is being taken to Valcré by dragon.”

  These words slammed into Kyrin’s heart, stalling it. For a moment, all she could see was the emperor’s cruel face, the execution platform, a screaming mob . . .

  A tingling sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time worked up through her fingers, and her vision grew shadowed. Kaden grabbed her arm, and she shut her eyes and drew in deep breaths to clear her head. The faintness passed, but the pain in her heart did not. To think of Jace in enemy hands was more than she could bear. Losing him would devastate her. Please, Elôm, no.

  “Are you all right?”

  Kyrin opened her eyes a
nd looked up at her brother. She gave a brief nod, but her body still felt cold and a little numb.

  “Are they already gone?” Rayad asked Elon. His voice held the measure of his own concern for Jace.

  Elon nodded.

  “We have to go after him,” Kyrin gasped. Her words barely made it through her throat. If only they had searched for him last night. She had never imagined something so terrible when they hadn’t found him after returning from Stonehelm.

  Rayad turned to look at everyone. “We can’t all go and leave Samara defenseless if Daican sends firedrakes before we return.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Elon said, surprising them. “We won’t need a large force to rescue him.”

  Holden stepped up to join Rayad, and they both looked at Kyrin.

  “I’m going too.” She couldn’t stand the thought of waiting here. She had already lost someone dear to her to the emperor. To think of it happening to Jace and not doing all she could to stop it would kill her.

  Kaden still held her arm, and she looked up at him again. A battle raged in his expression that she understood immediately. This was his first difficult decision as a captain. He would want to join them, especially since she was going, but he had his men to think about.

  She put her hand on his arm. “It’s all right. Stay with your men.”

  The struggle remained in his eyes. He had never willingly let her face danger without him.

  “Aaron and I will go,” Timothy spoke up. He faced Kaden. “Don’t worry. We’ll protect her with our lives. You know we will.”

  Kaden blew out a long breath, finally nodding. “All right.”

  Now that it was settled, they rushed to gather their supplies and provisions. Trask, Mick, and Tane offered their dragons to Elon, Aelos, and Riyel. Outside, they loaded the supplies and gathered for a rushed goodbye. Standing near Ivoris, Kyrin faced Kaden.