A mile into the forest, his hopes for a quick and easy rescue faded when they joined up with a group of seven other ryriks. Their vulturous eyes simultaneously locked on Kyrin. Jace clenched his fists, testing the strength of the rope around his wrists.
“Did you kill any of them?” Geric asked.
One of the ryriks shook his head. “We couldn’t get close enough with their dragons there.”
Geric scowled. “Well, at least we’ve got the Altair girl.” He dragged Kyrin deeper into their midst, and Jace’s heart gave a hard thud. How could they possibly know who she was?
She looked back at him again, her face held taut. Her confusion was as plain as the fear in her eyes, but he could see her fighting it. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but too many ryriks stood around them. How could he be certain? Elôm, please give me a way to rescue her. He ground his teeth together, his blood still coursing with heat. And don’t let them harm her.
“We’ll have to watch ourselves,” Geric said. “Those dragons will be flying over any time now.” He nodded to one of the nearby ryriks. “Gag them. I don’t want them calling out for help.”
The man pulled some old cloths from his pack and tore two long strips. He handed one to Ruis and used the other on Kyrin. Jace glared defiantly at Ruis, but it didn’t stop the man from forcing a wad of fabric into his mouth and tying the gag tightly at the back of his head. Jace grimaced at the bitterness of the cloth against his tongue.
Now that their captives were muted, the entire group of ryriks set off, heading south. Jace took a quick glance over his shoulder, praying their friends were just behind them, but the forest was void of anything to offer hope.
Kaden was the first to break out of the forest with Marcus right on his heels. He’d heard Kyrin scream, and it had taken every ounce of willpower to fight his instinct to race to her aid. Instinct probably would have won out if Jace had not gone.
His gaze swept the farm as he prayed to Elôm that he would see his sister standing unharmed with Jace, who would have kept her safe no matter what. Jorvik and his brothers had arrived and stood with Sev and his family, but where were Kyrin and Jace? He took another desperate look around, just to be sure, but found no sign of them.
Kaden rushed up to Sev. “Have they come back?”
The giant shook his head, his eyes full of regret. “Not yet.”
Kaden’s heart punched his ribs like an iron-covered fist, urging him to race into the forest after them. But he reined the impulse to a halt. Rushing into an unknown situation wouldn’t help anyone. He needed to think, not react recklessly.
He spun around to face Marcus, who seemed to be going through the same thought process. “We need to find them.”
His brother nodded.
By this time, the others gathered around them, and Captain Darq took charge. “Talas, you take Leetra and see if you can spot them from the dragons. The rest of us should split up—half of us to remain here with Balen while the other half searches for them on foot.”
Balen immediately protested. “You might need me to help track them.”
“I’m sorry, my lord,” Darq replied, “but I just can’t agree to that. It’s too risky.”
Balen frowned toward the forest as if contemplating whether or not to go anyway. Before he could speak again, Halvar stepped forward. “I’ll go. I’m a good tracker. I’ve done a lot of hunting in this part of the woods.”
They looked at him and then at Jorvik, who said, “He’s right. You should take him.”
Darq nodded and quickly chose Kaden, Marcus, Rayad, Holden, Timothy, and Aaron to go with Halvar while the rest stayed behind to guard Balen. Once it was settled, Michael stepped in. “What about me?”
Marcus faced him. “I want you to stay here.”
Michael’s mouth fell open. “But I want to help. You can’t just keep leaving me behind.”
“Michael, just do as I say.” He did not yell, but he spoke firmly enough to show Michael and Kaden both just how worried he was.
Michael grumbled but didn’t argue, and now was not the time to worry about his feelings. Every moment they stood here debating, Kaden’s gut twisted itself into tighter knots. They had to get going. Anything could be happening to Kyrin and Jace.
The search group headed toward the trees with Halvar in the lead. A deep, churning wave of dread rolled inside of Kaden at the thought of what they might find, and he prayed earnestly that Kyrin and Jace were all right.
Despair dragged at Jace for every mile and hour they traveled, the gloom only growing heavier. The ryriks forced them on at an arduous pace past midday and through the afternoon. His legs burned from the strain, and his throat ached for all the moisture the gag sucked away. Kyrin must be miserable. Every time she stumbled, he wanted to reach out to her, but his bound hands were useless behind his back. If only he alone were the captive.
The sun sank low and nighttime overtook the forest. Just before full darkness set in, the ryriks stopped in a hollow rimmed with tall ferns that provided cover.
Looking around, Geric nodded. “We’ll stop here but no fire.”
He led Kyrin over to a tree and told her to sit. Jace sank down close beside her, his legs welcoming the rest. Geric untied Kyrin’s gag, and she bent over coughing. He removed Jace’s next. Jace sucked in a deep breath now without the obstruction but, like Kyrin, he almost choked on the dryness of his mouth and throat. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too parched.
He rejoiced when Geric handed Kyrin a waterskin. She grasped it in her bound hands and guzzled the water. A little bit ran down her chin. When she finished, she turned to Jace and held the waterskin to his lips. Though it was warm and stale, he gulped the water before Geric snatched the waterskin away from them. Jace swallowed his last mouthful and turned his attention to Kyrin. The cut on the side of her jaw had quit bleeding a while ago. With a closer look, it appeared to be little more than a nick to her flesh. Then their eyes locked. They said nothing, but he could almost read the question in her gaze: What are we going to do? All he knew was that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
Around them, the ryriks dug into their packs for their provisions. Geric tossed a small linen sack between Kyrin and Jace. “Eat.”
Kyrin reached for it. Inside were strips of dried venison. She pulled a piece from the sack. After biting off some for herself, she tore off another small piece as best she could and held it to his mouth.
“Thank you,” he murmured between chewing the leathery provisions.
She nodded, her eyes looking a little too moist. His chest ached with the desire to protect her. All day he had prayed not to be stuck with these men overnight.
But here they were.
They ate in silence; however, the ryriks filled the hollow with their coarse talk and crude jokes. Such crassness had surrounded Jace during his days as a gladiator, but that was such a long time ago, and he hated for Kyrin to be exposed to it. If only he could shield her from words as well as physical actions.
After some time, he noticed Geric didn’t join in the conversations as much. Though clearly the leader, he seemed like an outsider as well. Jace watched him, trying to pinpoint that difference he’d detected earlier. It wasn’t until Geric brushed back his hair and Jace caught a glimpse of his ears that he realized—they weren’t as sharply pointed as the other ryriks’ ears.
“You’re not a full-blood ryrik.”
Geric’s eyes trained on him. He almost looked amused by Jace’s observation. “No. I’m half, like you.” He smirked. “You thought you might be the only one, didn’t you? My father had a human wife. It’s rare, but there are a few of us around.”
One of the other ryriks made a comment about Geric’s mother and Jace squirmed. Geric shot the man a glare, his eyes flickering with that dangerous ryrik light.
“You want to say that to my face?”
The other man remained silent this time, but his hard expression retained a challenging stubbornness.
> Conversation resumed between the men and only grew rowdier as they passed a flask of alcohol around. Jace kept a close watch on them, his every nerve taut with a growing sense of impending trouble. He prayed he was wrong, but after a couple of hours, Ruis stood. His gaze fell on Kyrin, and she stiffened next to Jace. Though, by now, it would have been too dark for her to make out many details, the eerie glow of Ruis’s eyes would be easy even for her to see. What she probably couldn’t see was the lecherous look on his face. Jace clenched his bound fists, his blood temperature rising rapidly.
The ryrik strode toward them.
“Ruis,” Geric warned.
“I’m just going to have a look at her,” Ruis snapped, but his eyes said otherwise.
Jace shoved to his feet and took a stand in front of Kyrin. He strained his wrists against his bindings. Please, Elôm, break these ropes. I need my hands!
Ruis stopped short and glared at him, yet his lips curled with cruel amusement. “You think you’re going to stop me?”
Jace let his fighting blood flow through him. He didn’t know what he could do without the use of his hands, but he had to do something. Ruis reached to shove him out of the way, but Jace lowered his shoulder and rammed it into Ruis’s chest. Caught off guard, Ruis stumbled a few steps before recovering. He twisted away and used Jace’s momentum against him. Without his arms to catch himself, Jace lost his balance and fell hard to the ground.
With a low chuckle, Ruis made his way to Kyrin once again. A small cry escaped her when he grabbed her and pressed her up against the tree.
“Not so feisty now, are you?” he sneered in her face.
Jace scrambled back to his feet, energized by Kyrin’s struggles. Again, he used his shoulder to slam into Ruis. He had no other recourse. Ruis staggered away from Kyrin. Jace didn’t stop until both he and Ruis crashed to the ground. Growling, the ryrik flailed around in the leaves, and Jace struggled to regain his feet first. However, as Ruis pushed himself up, he swung out his right arm. A glint of metal caught Jace’s eyes. He scrambled away, but it caught him across the shoulder and left side of his chest. After a momentary sting, any pain disappeared amidst the heat of his blood.
Ruis lunged toward him, dagger still in hand. Jace attempted to recover his feet again, but the man grabbed his ankle, and he fell to his back. Kyrin gasped a split second before Ruis was on top of him. The very tip of the dagger pierced the skin of his stomach just below his ribs. He tensed, waiting for the rest of the blade to follow.
“Ruis!”
Geric’s voice halted everything. Jace stared up at his would-be murderer. The pressure on the dagger increased, slicing a bit more flesh, and Jace held his breath. However, Geric spoke again.
“A dead prisoner is of no value to us.”
Ruis let out another low growl in his throat and leaned down to sneer in Jace’s face, “You’re lucky, half-blood. I’d gut you right here.”
He pushed to his feet and stepped away. Jace let out the breath trapped in his lungs. He then rolled to his side, maneuvering himself to his knees as he watched Ruis and Geric come face to face and stare each other down.
“From now on, you’ll keep away from the girl,” Geric commanded, his voice low.
Ruis scowled. “You just want to keep her for yourself.”
“I’m keeping her for the emperor. If all you want is a girl, then go back to Arcacia and raid a village. I intend to collect that gold Daican promised, and you can bet she and whoever else we manage to bring him will be worth a small fortune. If that doesn’t mean anything to you, then get out of here and don’t come back.”
Ruis only glared for a moment, but he returned to his place with the other ryriks, muttering dark threats under his breath. Geric cast a look at Jace, though he said nothing. A second later, Kyrin was at Jace’s side. She said his name in a trembling voice, and he looked into her face. Her cheeks were wet and her skin almost white, but she was unharmed. She helped him to his feet and back over to the tree. Here, she looked down at her hands, and her expression tensed as her eyes flew back to him.
“You’re bleeding.”
Red coated both her palms, and only then did he register pain—a deep, stinging pain that spread across his shoulder and just below his collarbone. He looked down to assess the damage. His shirt and jerkin had a long slice through them.
“Sit back,” Kyrin told him. “I’ll try to stop it.”
Jace leaned against the tree, and Kyrin placed her hands over the wound, applying pressure. He winced a little and could feel her hands shaking against him. If only he were free of his blasted bindings! He longed to wipe her tear-streaked face and hold her until the fear left her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
Her gaze met his briefly but faltered. She nodded, biting her lip as she stared down at her hands.
Jace tipped his head to try to see into her eyes. “I’m going to do whatever I can to protect you.”
Her chin rose a little, and her gaze met his, holding this time. She blinked at the moisture gathering near her lashes. They both knew it was a futile promise. After all, Ruis had been only a breath away from killing him. Any further confrontations and he would probably succeed. Still, Kyrin seemed to draw strength from his words. She pulled in a ragged breath and nodded again. She then glanced over her shoulder and spoke softly to let the hum of conversation behind her mask her words.
“It’s true. They are working for Daican. And they intend to hand us over to him.”
Jace stared past her, determined to find a way to escape before that happened. If only the men weren’t ryriks. They were entirely too good in the woods and anything like darkness would be of no advantage in an escape. His attention shifted back to Kyrin.
“It’s a long way to Valcré. Anything could happen before then.”
Good or bad, though he prayed for good.
After a time, Kyrin removed her bloodied hands from his wound. “I think it’s stopped. I wish I could see how bad it is.”
“Try to pull the fabric apart so I can see it,” Jace said.
Carefully, she spread the ripped edges of his shirt apart near his shoulder, giving him a glimpse of the wound. It was deep, as he suspected, but she was right that the bleeding had stopped.
“It’ll be all right,” he told her.
She stared at him as if not quite sure.
“It could use stitches, but for now, it’s fine.” And the least of their worries.
Her face still taut, Kyrin wiped her hands in the leaves and stepped around to his other side, where she sat down next to him, their shoulders resting together. She breathed out a long, tired breath.
“Try to rest, if you can,” Jace said. “I’ll keep watch.”
Hesitancy overcame her expression, but after a moment, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
The hours passed slowly. Jace’s eyes grew tired, but he would not close them. Not even for a moment. Especially not when it seemed Kyrin had actually fallen asleep. By now, most of the ryriks had settled down and slept as well, except for Geric. He sat fiddling with his dagger, casting a look at Jace and Kyrin every so often. Some may have tried to escape during the long periods he wasn’t looking, but Jace knew better. They wouldn’t get fifty yards.
Nighttime quiet stretched out around them, unbroken, until a low howl resonated in the distance. Jace had heard wolves all the time on the farm, but the tone of this one prickled the hair along his arms and neck. Kyrin jerked awake beside him, and Ruis and several of the other ryriks looked up from their bedrolls. Geric swore and sent Ruis a fiery glare.
“Now look what you’ve done. His blood will draw them right to us.” He gestured at Jace.
Agitated murmurings came from the other ryriks.
Jace shared a tense look with Kyrin. If a large group of ryriks were disturbed by a wolf pack, then these were no ordinary wolves.
Geric pushed to his feet. “Everyone get up. We’re moving. Maybe we can lose them. I won’t have them tailing us
back to camp. We’ve lost enough horses as it is.”
The ryriks hurried to pack their belongings. As they finished, Jace caught Ruis giving him a stomach-turning look. The man then walked up to Geric.
“I know how to lose them.”
Geric’s eyes narrowed. “How?”
Ruis nodded at Jace. “We leave him behind as bait.”
Jace’s heart stalled in his chest, and he heard Kyrin’s breath catch.
Geric immediately dismissed the idea. “I intend to hand them both over to the emperor.”
But Ruis pressed on, and Jace suspected this had more to do with their confrontation than drawing off the wolves.
“What’s he worth? Not nearly as much as the girl. You have her and can use her to catch some of the others. Better to leave him here than to have a pack of wolves on our heels. He can’t be worth that much. He’s a troublemaker anyway.”
Geric peered at Ruis for a long moment in consideration, and Jace held his breath. Please don’t separate me from Kyrin. She can’t be left alone with them.
However, Geric nodded, and Jace’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach.
“Fine, we’ll leave him.”
Ruis grinned wickedly and motioned to a couple of his companions. They started for Jace and Kyrin. Heat pulsed through Jace as Kyrin held onto his arm. His breaths came hard and fast. He couldn’t let them take her. Somehow, he had to stop them.
One of the ryriks grabbed Kyrin and ripped her away.
“No!” she cried.
Jace shoved to his feet and lunged toward them, but Ruis and another ryrik caught him by the arms. He struggled against them with all his might, but a third ryrik joined in to subdue him. Suddenly, the ropes released from around his wrists. A burst of raging energy swelled inside him, and he fought like he never had before to get to Kyrin. Yet he just couldn’t match the ryriks or break their hold.
Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4) Page 23
