Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (55 page)

BOOK: Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1)
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The answer to her heart-whispered prayer came when Tyra bounded out of the underbrush toward them, followed closely by Rayad, Trask, Warin, and Mick. Kyrin blew out a sigh. “Thank You, Elôm.”

When the men reached them, Rayad grabbed Jace’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“Ryriks,” Kyrin told them. A shudder passed through her.

The men traded looks, and Trask asked, “Where?”

“Back that way.” Jace motioned. “There were six of them. Only one got away.”

Rayad seemed far more concerned about Jace’s condition than the ryriks. A little blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage. “Your wound, is it serious?”

Jace shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Rayad looked pointedly at Kyrin.

“I didn’t get a good look at it,” she said. “I just wanted to get the bleeding stopped.”

“You did well,” he told her. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

Mentally, it would take time to recover, but physically she was unharmed—a miracle. “No, I’m all right.”

“Good,” Rayad breathed. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

It was a long walk, and Kyrin was thankful to have Rayad there to help support Jace as his strength wore away. When they arrived, the men drew around them to see what the fuss was
about.

“Holden,” Trask called out.

He stepped forward and cast a suspicious glance at Jace.

“Choose a couple of the men,” Trask told him. “Arm yourselves, and get your horses. Ryriks attacked Jace and Kyrin. One got away. I want to make sure he isn’t hanging around.”

Holden’s eyes rounded, and his face might have paled a little. But he nodded and turned to carry out Trask’s orders. At least now he would get to expend his hatred on someone other than Jace.

As the men set off to track down the ryrik, Lenae beckoned Kyrin, Jace, and Rayad to the cabin and ushered them inside. Kyrin thanked Elôm that Lenae’s husband had been Landale’s physician and that she had assisted him. She would know just what to do for Jace
. After guiding him to a bench at the table, Lenae addressed Kyrin.

“Will you fill a basin of water and bring it and clean cloths to the table?”

Kyrin rushed to gather the items while Lenae and Rayad removed the bandage and helped Jace pull off his jerkin and shirt. She set the basin and cloths on the table near them. The long gash below Jace’s ribs drew her eyes. Lenae pressed a cloth to the still-bleeding wound and looked up again at Kyrin.

“There’s a medical kit in the cabinet. Make sure your hands are clean and hold a needle to a flame for a few seconds. Then thread it for me and collect some bandages.”

She spoke in a calm voice that eased the fitful churning of Kyrin’s stomach. Kyrin followed her instructions and stood close by, ready to do anything else she could. She didn’t mean to stare, but her eyes followed the pale, raised scars crisscrossing Jace’s shoulders, back, and chest—deep scars from wounds he must have received in the arena, as well as whip scars. Tightness ached in her throat.

He looked up and caught her staring. She tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed, and they both looked away uncomfortably.

When Lenae began stitching the wound, Jace grimaced, and his breath caught. Kyrin bit her lip.

“You should take it easy for a few days,” Lenae said when she finished and covered the wound with fresh bandages. “I’ll check it again tonight.”

Jace stood slowly. He reached for his shirt and jerkin, but Lenae stopped him.

“You can leave them. I’ll wash them and mend them for you.”

“Thank you,” he told her quietly.

He glanced at Kyrin and then walked outside. Rayad too thanked Lenae and followed him.

Silence settled inside the cabin. Lenae turned warm and gentle eyes to Kyrin. She’d acted so calmly, but now concern broke through. “Are you all right?”

Kyrin released a heavy breath. Moisture gushed into her eyes. “That’s a good question.” She sank down on the bench, and Lenae took a seat next to her. Tears spilled over. She swiped away the first ones, but more followed. “I was really scared
…for both of us. They almost killed him.”

Lenae put her arm around her and hugged her close.

“I’ve seen ryriks before,” Kyrin said, sniffing
, “but I never realized how terrifying they are…
how utterly powerless you feel. If Jace hadn’t been there…” She clenched her fists, shuddering, and couldn’t get the ryrik leader’s leering face out of her mind. She never would.

Lenae held her tightly. “But he was there,” she replied softly. “Elôm didn’t leave you defenseless.”

Kyrin nodded and wiped her cheeks again. The tremors subsided and exhaustion set in.

“I’m going to go up and change,” she murmured.

Lenae let her go, and she climbed up into the loft with heavy limbs. But when she had changed out of her torn dress, she stepped outside. Jace sat near the tent, resting. She walked over to him. Today was far too horrible to let any discomfort linger between them. He looked up, and she gave him a weary little smile.

“Thank you,” she said, right from the deepest part of her heart, “for not leaving me to them. You saved my life.”

Jace gave his head a slight shake. “I should be the one thanking you. You stopped the ryrik from killing me.”

Her mind flashed back to the shot she’d made. “I just did what I had to.” A fuller smile grew on her face. “I guess that makes us even.”

The barest hint of a smile touched Jace’s lips in return, but didn’t fully materialize. Kyrin crinkled her forehead. Something troubled him, she was sure of it, but she didn’t want to press him.

 

 

Trask and the others didn’t return until late that evening. They came to the fire where the rest of camp ate supper, and Warin asked, “Did you find him?”

Trask shook his head. “We followed his trail a good eight miles south. I don’t expect he’ll come back, but I think it would be a good idea to post sentries from now on. At least at night, and no one should go out alone.”

The men agreed, and as they discussed these new security measures, Kyrin worked her way around to one member of the tracking party in particular. She’d prepared for this all afternoon.

“Holden.”

He turned to face her.

“I understand now,” she said, her heartbeat a little elevated. She wasn’t sure if it had completely settled at all yet. “Truly understand. But I do think you should know Jace was prepared to die before he’d let the ryriks have me. They realized he was part ryrik and offered to let him go, but he chose to protect me. He very nearly died doing so.”

Holden stood silent as the orange firelight flickered on his hard expression. Doubt lurked, but Kyrin pressed on.

“I saw it in Jace’s eyes, that fire and energy ryriks have, but it wasn’t like the others. It had no hatred or cruelty behind it. What I do know for sure is, if Jace didn’t have any ryrik blood, we would both be dead right now.”

Whether this set Holden’s mind to changing or not was impossible to know for sure, but she felt much better for having told him.

 

 

“No!”

The agonized cry broke free, but if it was just in his mind or real, Jace didn’t know. He scrambled up. Pain ripped through his side, but
it was eclipsed by the pain in his heart. He stumbled out of the tent as if to escape the horror, but it followed him, and the weight of it forced him to his knees. Gasping for air, he buried his face in his hands.

“Jace?” Rayad touched his shoulder.

He ripped away and staggered back to his feet. He didn’t want anyone near him—
couldn’t
let anyone near him.

“What’s wrong?” Rayad asked.

Jace shook his head vehemently, afraid that speaking might make the dream real. Still panting, he backed away from Rayad.

“Jace, wait.”

But he kept going as fear drove him out of camp. He hadn’t gone far before the recurring images from his dream crippled him, and he dropped to his knees. It felt so horrifyingly real. Tears poured into his eyes, pooling on the rims, but not quite falling. With shallow, ragged breaths, he clenched his fists and swore he’d never let the dream come true. No matter what it took.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

K
yrin climbed down the ladder to the sound of Lenae preparing breakfast. She glanced at the window where sunlight streamed in and was glad of the morning. Though she found a few hours of sleep, many times she woke up sweating and scared and would have to sit and pray before rest would come again. It made for a long night.

“I expected you to sleep in this morning.”

Kyrin’s attention returned to Lenae, and she shrugged. “I’m used to getting up early.”

Lenae’s eyes rested on her for a moment as if searching. She’d likely heard her wake up during the night.

“I’m all right,” she assured her. “My mind just needs time to settle.”

Lenae gave her an encouraging smile before focusing on the coffee.

Kyrin glanced at the door. “I think I’ll go see how Jace is. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Tell him to come in later so I can clean the wound and change the bandages.”

“I will.”

She opened the door and stepped outside. It was strange not to have Jace there waiting. It had become such a normal and familiar part of her day. Her eyes swept through camp. Several of the men were up, but Jace wasn’t among them. Maybe he was still asleep. He could use the rest. She walked over to Rayad.

“Is Jace…” Seeing Rayad’s tired and troubled eyes, the question died on her lips. “What’s wrong?”

“He had a nightmare and went off during the night.” Rayad shook his head, and lines deeply creased his forehead. “I don’t know what he dreamed about, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that upset before.”

Worry splashed into the pit of Kyrin’s stomach like a cold bucket of water. They’d come too far to have it all fall apart now. She turned to the forest. “I’ll go look for him.”

She started off, but Rayad warned, “Don’t go far.”

Kyrin swallowed as the coldness spread up through her chest and into her arms. The thought of being in the forest alone, even a short distance from camp, scared her more than she wanted to admit. But her concern for Jace outweighed even that. “I won’t,” she said and went on.

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