Exiles

by Jaye L. Knight

  Darq approached the family first. “We’re here to help you. We saw the smoke and came as quickly as we could.”

  Leetra hurried up to them, her familiar leather medical bag in hand. “May I see your arm?”

  The man blinked in surprise. Leetra was so tiny next to him, and Jace had a feeling they’d never seen cretes before today. Still, he let her inspect the long gash to his forearm. Everyone else gathered around but kept enough distance so as not to crowd them or make them uncomfortable.

  “What happened here?” Balen asked.

  “Ryriks. They came out of the forest.” The giant jutted his bearded chin toward the trees. “We didn’t even know they were here until the barn was already in flames. They tried to set the cabin afire too.”

  “Did you kill any of them?”

  The man gestured with his good arm toward the cabin. “One, yes.”

  Jace glanced that way. A dark body lay near the corner of the porch. Marcus and Kaden left the group and walked over to it. Stooping, Marcus picked up the dead ryrik’s sword and turned back to them.

  “Take a look at this. Another Arcacian sword. One could easily be explained by a raid somewhere in Arcacia, but two . . .” He shook his head. “That’s more suspicious.”

  Balen looked grimly at the others but then focused again on the giants to introduce himself and the group.

  “I’m sure glad you showed up,” the man, whose name was Sev, said. “As soon as the ryriks spotted you coming, they ran off. If you hadn’t come when you did, we would’ve lost the cabin, and much more.” He looked at his wife and children.

  “Thank Elôm we were nearby,” Balen replied.

  “Aye,” Sev agreed.

  Behind them, a horse’s loud shriek echoed from somewhere in the forest. A jolt shot through Jace, and he gripped his sword as everyone spun toward the trees.

  Sev growled. “The beasts ran off with one of my best mares.”

  “We should try to find them,” Balen said. “It might be the only way we find out what’s going on.”

  The men all seemed to agree, and they pulled out their weapons. Jace had to swallow his reluctance. The last time he’d faced ryriks, he and Kyrin had been lucky to survive. They were a strong group this time, but were they strong enough?

  Most of the group moved toward the trees, commanding their dragons to follow, but Jace hung back and turned to Kyrin. “Stay here.” Whatever they found in that forest, he didn’t want her anywhere near it.

  She nodded, but her wide eyes filled with unease. “Please be careful.”

  “I will.” Jace turned to catch up to the others and found that Marcus had also hung back and was gripping Michael’s arm. The boy had a scowl on his face.

  “I can help.”

  Marcus shook his head and spoke with the firm and unrelenting tone of a captain. “You’re staying here with Kyrin.”

  Michael opened his mouth to argue, but Marcus was already hurrying after the rest of the group. Jace cast Michael a quick look as he passed before he focused on what lay ahead. He called to Gem and caught up to the group at the forest’s edge. They paused a moment before Balen pointed out the large hoof prints leading into the trees. “This way.”

  They plunged into the shadows of the forest, and Jace could only pray they had a large enough group to outnumber the ryriks and that their dragons would be as useful on the ground as in the air.

  Kyrin watched the men disappear into the trees and hugged her arms around herself, a chill passing through her even in the bright sunshine. She couldn’t stop the clear images playing in her mind of the time she and Jace had met the band of ryriks in the forest near camp. It still made her shiver and brought occasional nightmares.

  “Please, Elôm, protect them,” she whispered.

  With a deep breath to calm herself, she shifted her attention to Michael. Her brother stared off at the forest, his shoulders sagging in a deflated stance.

  “Hey, Marcus is just keeping his promise to Mother.”

  He turned to her, his brows still bent low. “I’m getting old enough to decide for myself if I want to face danger or not.”

  Kyrin couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think older brothers are ever all right with letting their younger siblings put themselves in harm’s way.”

  Michael just huffed, and Kyrin motioned to him. Together, they turned their attention to Leetra, who had also remained behind to stitch Sev’s arm. After cleaning away the remaining blood, she applied a salve, and then wrapped it in bandages.

  “There,” she said. “In a few days the stitches can come out. Just keep it clean.”

  “Thank you.” Sev pushed to his feet, taking his wife’s hand and patting his still weepy little girl on the head. “We’re all right.”

  “But what are we going to do about the barn?” the girl whimpered.

  They all turned toward it. Flames consumed the entire structure now.

  “We’ll just have to build a new one,” Sev said optimistically. “The important thing is we’re all safe.”

  Kyrin smiled at the little girl’s pouty face. She reminded Kyrin of Meredith, though she had thick wavy hair the color of ripe wheat.

  An uncomfortable prickle crawled along the back of Kyrin’s neck, and she sensed more than heard the movement behind her. A strong arm hooked around her waist, yanking her back against a hard chest. She gasped out a cry as another arm encircled her in a hold of iron.

  Leetra and Michael spun around, whipping out their swords. Leetra’s lavender eyes flashed wide, and she took a step forward but stopped at the thick, gravelly voice that growled in Kyrin’s ear.

  “Hold it right there or I’ll break her neck.”

  A hand rose menacingly to Kyrin’s throat. Her stomach plummeted at the glimpse of distinctive black hair along the man’s forearm. A ryrik. Elôm! A tremor raced through Kyrin’s body, and she struggled against him, but his hold wouldn’t budge. He dragged her backward, toward the trees

  Ivoris let out a menacing growl and charged at them. The ryrik swept Kyrin around, using her as a shield against the dragon. Ivy slowed, growling and hissing threats, the air shimmering around her mouth.

  “You’d better get her to back off or you’ll die right now.”

  Kyrin swallowed against her fear. She hesitated but complied when the ryrik’s grip on her neck tightened.

  “Ivy, tolla.”

  The dragon hissed again but didn’t come any closer. Leetra’s dragon growled and paced behind her. They resembled angry dogs that couldn’t come to their master’s aid.

  Kyrin’s gaze shifted to Leetra and Michael again. Her brother could only stare at her, mortified and helpless, while Leetra’s eyes sparked with the desire to take action. However, they both knew how any attempt at a rescue would end.

  The trees drew closer and any hope of help sank further away. With it the fear mounted, filling Kyrin’s chest and jolting through her frantic heart. She fought the panic to think clearly. Her dagger! The one Jace had given her that she’d hidden behind the panel of her overdress.

  Carefully, she moved her hand toward the weapon. Please, Elôm, please help me. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt. Gritting her teeth, she yanked it out with the intent to drive it back into the ryrik’s thigh. But he was too quick. He snatched her wrist in his large hand and twisted it hard. She cried at the sharp stab of pain that pushed tears to her eyes, and the dagger dropped out of her hand.

  “You’re a feisty one.” His breath warmed her neck, and she tried desperately to squirm away, but he was far too strong.

  When they reached the tree line, she couldn’t contain her panic any longer and screamed Jace’s name. The ryrik’s hand immediately clamped over her mouth, cutting off any further cries for help.

  Everything about this screamed of danger to Jace. He wasn’t the only one who had faced ryriks before and understood how dangerous they were, but should he have protested when Balen chose to go after them? It’s true they were here to figure out what was
going on, or, at the very least, end these raids, but what if there were more ryriks than Jorvik and his brothers knew about? Maybe they should have waited for the giant brothers to arrive to help them. Of course, the ryriks could have completely disappeared by then, leaving them once again with no answers.

  Jace carefully scanned the trees and undergrowth as increasing unease churned inside of him. They couldn’t be far from where the horse had whinnied. Would the ryriks be there? Or would they circle around and surround the group? If only he had Tyra here to help sense for danger. In this thick forest, ryriks could hide anywhere. Though the pines weren’t as tall as the trees the cretes built in, they towered taller than any pine Jace had come across back home, shadowing the forest floor.

  After another few yards, a powerful thudding vibrated the ground. He paused to listen more closely. Hooves.

  “I think the horse is just ahead,” he murmured.

  They moved with extreme caution. The pounding of hoof beats grew louder and distressed snorting joined it. Coming upon a small clearing, they found the horse. The massive animal pawed and churned up the mossy ground with her enormous hooves. Blood ran down the side of one of her haunches. Her lead appeared stuck in some brush, but when Jace got a closer look, dread socked him in the gut. The lead wasn’t stuck—it was tied. She had been left here deliberately.

  He spun around to face the others. “It’s an ambush!”

  The words had barely left his mouth before an arrow swished right past his ear and narrowly missed Holden before slamming into a tree. Everyone jumped into action to protect Balen, backing to the edge of the clearing where they had more trees for cover. More arrows pursued them but missed, thank Elôm. They ducked into the brush and attempted to catch a glimpse of their assailants as the dragons growled behind them.

  Then a sound reached Jace’s ears that turned his blood to ice—Kyrin’s scream. It echoed faintly in the trees but rang in his head like an alarm bell. He gasped her name. Every instinct and impulse urged him to get to her. His body was all ready to obey, but duty crashed in and halted him. How could he just run off with Balen still in danger? They were here to protect him.

  But Kyrin!

  His mind nearly tore itself apart in that split second battle before Rayad grabbed his arm. “Go!”

  Jace needed no further prompting. Not even concerned by any arrows from behind, he raced back the way they had come—toward Kyrin’s scream. Blood surged hotly through his veins. There had only been one scream. What did it mean and what would he find? The last time he had heard her scream his name, his own brother had nearly assaulted her. His heart matched his pace. Images of riding into the farm back at home and finding Kalli and Aldor lying lifeless in the yard flitted through his mind. He shook them away.

  When he broke from the trees, he stumbled to a halt. Leetra and Michael stood a few yards away, their swords in their hands.

  But no Kyrin.

  Jace could barely breathe. “Where is she?”

  “A ryrik grabbed her.” Leetra shook her head. “I wanted to stop him, but he threatened to kill her.”

  Jace’s heart pounded with the force of a sledgehammer as the news sank in, rendering him momentarily paralyzed. But the flames inside him came roaring back. “Where did he take her?”

  “Into the trees.” Leetra gestured to the forest about thirty yards from where they stood.

  Jace almost bolted straight for it but restrained himself. “We were ambushed. Help Balen and the others, and then come find us.”

  He didn’t wait for her response—he just ran. On the way to the trees, a shard of metal caught the light in the grass. Kyrin’s dagger. He snatched up the blade and stuck it in his belt without slowing. His blood throbbed inside him with the frantic desperation to reach her before she was harmed. Elôm, please protect her! Please guide me! He couldn’t let himself consider what would happen if he couldn’t find her. He would find her.

  Only when he entered the forest did he slow. He needed to find a sign. Something to show him the right direction. If he chose wrong now, it would give the ryrik captor time to get away. He searched the ground, which seemed void of clues. There had to be something. He drew a deep breath and forced himself to focus. Then he spotted the faint impressions of footprints in the leaves and moss. Following them a few yards, he found where Kyrin had struggled and dragged her feet.

  “I’m coming,” he gasped.

  He scanned the forest for any bit of movement. He couldn’t be far behind. Pressing on, he continued to find signs—sometimes faint, other times obvious. After another hundred yards, he stopped to listen, struggling to hear over the thundering of his heartbeat. The forest was eerily silent. He had to be close. The fact that he hadn’t found her yet nearly sent him into a panic. He swallowed down the fear rising in his throat and called her name.

  Out of the dead silence came a muffled cry.

  Jace’s heart lurched. He gripped his sword in both hands and moved cautiously toward the sound, battling the urge to charge in. When he stepped around a grouping of saplings, he froze in his tracks. Four ryriks stood waiting for him. His gaze went straight to Kyrin. They had already bound her, and her captor had his arm firmly around her, a large blade pressed up under her chin. One quick move and she could be dead, just like that.

  Only when one of the ryriks took a step toward him did he tear his gaze away from her to size the man up. He was the only one who didn’t have a weapon drawn. His calm expression said he was in control and knew it. He was tall and strong like the other ryriks, yet something about him didn’t add up—something Jace couldn’t quite pinpoint. But all that mattered was getting Kyrin away from these men before they could cause her serious harm.

  “Came alone, did you?” The ryrik’s lips curled in a satisfied smile.

  Jace looked him straight in the eyes. “Let her go.”

  The ryrik snorted. Of course, they never would.

  “How about you drop your sword and surrender or . . .” he motioned to the man holding Kyrin, “she’ll get hurt.”

  Jace’s attention jumped back to Kyrin, who drew in a sharp breath and tried to tip her chin up away from the dagger that pressed against her skin.

  “I’d hate to have to cut such a pretty throat right away,” her ryrik captor said. He nuzzled his bearded cheek against her neck with a cruel chuckle. Kyrin squirmed but couldn’t distance herself from him.

  Furious heat burst through Jace’s chest and limbs. He barely restrained himself from fighting his way to her. Only his fear for her safety held him in place.

  “Let her go,” he ground out.

  “Not going to happen. You’ve got ten seconds to drop your sword before I order him to kill her.”

  Jace dug his fingers into the hilt of his sword. To surrender would leave him with no power to protect her, but he couldn’t stand there and watch her die either. Even if he stalled long enough for the others to find them, the ryriks would kill her the moment they showed up. His fingers loosened.

  “No, Jace, please don’t.” Kyrin’s voice trembled. “Please, just go.”

  She was so brave, but he would never just leave her with these monsters.

  “Time’s wasting,” the head ryrik said.

  Before Jace could respond, Kyrin kicked her foot back into her captor’s leg. He growled and spat a curse. Kyrin released a soft cry as his dagger cut into the flesh at her jawline. Jace stepped toward her, but two of the other ryriks blocked his path. Kyrin’s captor forced her to her knees and grabbed her hair to yank her head back and place his dagger at her throat again. For a moment, all Jace could see was the blood trailing down the side of her neck.

  “Jace, just run,” she cried with a desperate tone that Jace could hardly bear to hear. Two tears rolled down her cheeks.

  That was enough. Jace couldn’t take the risk. He threw down his sword, silently begging Elôm for help. He would not leave her. Not even if it meant having to die with her. At least she wouldn’t be alone. He would have to tr
ust the others to find them and mount a rescue before that happened.

  The two ryriks rushed in and grabbed him by the arms. They shoved him up against a tree, knocking the breath from his lungs and bruising his ribs, and tied his hands behind his back. He twisted his neck around to look at Kyrin. Her head hung, more tears cascading down her anguished face. Blood still trickled down her neck. Jace strained against the ryriks, longing to reach her.

  Once they’d searched him for weapons, the ryriks yanked him away from the tree and forced him to stand in front of their leader. Jace held his piercing eyes firmly. The man smirked and turned to Kyrin’s captor.

  “Bring her to me.”

  “Yes, Geric,” the man grumbled as he slipped his dagger back into his sheath. He hauled Kyrin up and shoved her forward.

  Geric took her securely by the arm and motioned the other man over to Jace. “Ruis, you keep an eye on him.” His attention turned to the ryriks on either side of Jace. “You two cover the trail. We need to get out of here before the others show up.”

  Dragging Kyrin along with him, Geric turned and strode deeper into the forest. Kyrin looked back at Jace. He tried to offer her a look of reassurance, as if, somehow, he would get her out of this. But could he?

  “Move.” Ruis prodded him forward.

  Jace followed Kyrin, staying as close to her as he could. Though it went against his usual instinct, he tried to leave as many tracks to follow as he could without alerting Geric and Ruis to his intentions. The ryriks behind them would cover most but, Elôm willing, they wouldn’t completely erase all signs. Right now, the only escape Jace could see was a rescue from their friends. He couldn’t stomach what would happen once the ryriks felt they were out of danger . . . what would happen to Kyrin. He swallowed back the fear of it and begged Elôm not to let her suffer at the hands of these monsters. He’d do anything, just so long as she got away safely.