Samara's Peril (Ilyon Chronicles Book 3)

by Jaye L. Knight

  “Caves,” she murmured.

  At once Jace remembered when he had nearly refused to ride Gem over his fear of heights. Kyrin had admitted her fear of caves to make him feel better.

  “Come on, Kyrin,” Marcus coaxed. He stood nearby with Kaden and Liam, insisting on walking part of the way. “You know you have to go in.”

  Kyrin eyed her brothers. “I know.” She shook her head. “It’s just… hard. No thanks to you three.”

  They traded confused looks.

  She raised her brows at them. “You don’t remember that time in the cave back home?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Well, I do,” Kyrin muttered. She took a deep breath.

  “It’s no different from the dungeon in Auréa,” Kaden offered.

  Kyrin stared at him. “That’s not exactly a pleasant memory either.”

  Jace certainly agreed with her on that. He stepped forward, offering his hand. She looked at it, and then up into his eyes.

  “Come on,” he said gently. “No one or nothing will scare you in these caves. Not with me here. I promise.”

  A hint of a smile came to her lips, and she took his hand.

  To the two female dragons waiting on the stairs, Jace commanded, “Gem, Ivy, réma.”

  Then, holding Kyrin close, he started for the tunnel. He paused with her when she looked back.

  “Marcus, you make sure you stop and get on one of the dragons if you need to. Liam, you keep an eye on him.”

  They both chuckled, and Jace smiled.

  Lighting a torch from the one Mason held, he led Kyrin down toward the glow of the other torches ahead. Cool, damp air enveloped them with the strong scent of earth. The tunnel walls were roughhewn for the first fifty yards, but then they took a sharp left turn, where huge blocks of precisely-fitted stones surrounded them. This must be the base of the wall. Thick cobwebs hung down from the ceiling, but everyone ahead had already cleared most of them.

  Jace noticed Kyrin’s hand relaxing in his. “Doing all right?”

  She nodded and smiled up at him.

  The dragons shuffled along behind them, their loud snuffles blending with their footsteps as they took in the scents. Thank Elôm they were all so well behaved or this trek could quickly turn dangerous. He could just imagine the fire-engulfed panic that could ensue, but he kept it to himself. Kyrin didn’t need anything to worry about.

  On and on they went. It was difficult to tell how long or how far when everything looked the same. He imagined walking the path on top of the wall, but this seemed longer. After a while, Kyrin’s grip tightened again, her expression pensive. She glanced at him.

  “Just a little claustrophobic,” she said, a bit breathless. “I’ll manage.”

  “I’m sure it’s not too much farther.” He hoped not, for her sake.

  Jace estimated that about two hours had passed when, at last, the tunnel opened up into a vast cavern. At least here they wouldn’t feel quite so closed in. He raised his torch, illuminating the impressive natural structures all around them. Just to their right, water dripped loudly into a clear underground lake. He looked again at Kyrin. This time she peered around in interest.

  “Caves aren’t so bad,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  They pushed on, their caravan of people and dragons winding along an unseen path, torches bobbing in the darkness. Good thing Balen knew the way or they would all become hopelessly lost.

  Another hour passed before, finally, Jace spotted the subtle glow of moonlight ahead. Beside him, Kyrin let out a sigh. Several minutes later, they emerged from the cave system into a small valley lit up by Aertus and Vilai hovering over the eastern mountain peaks.

  Gathering in the center of the valley, they waited as, one by one, their entire group joined them—men, cretes, and dragons. As soon as everyone was present, Balen spoke.

  “We’ll have a good few hours of darkness before the Arcacians know we’re gone. I suggest we head a little further east and then south to be safe.”

  Trask and the others agreed, and all turned for their dragons. Before letting her go, Jace gave Kyrin’s hand a slight squeeze.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  She walked over to Ivoris and mounted up with Liam. Beside her, Kaden mounted Exsis where Marcus already sat. Taking one of the militiamen with him, Jace turned for Gem. Once everyone without a dragon had found someone to ride with and Balen had bid a difficult farewell to his remaining men, the entire company took to the air, flying low over the mountains until Stonehelm was far behind them.

  The sun peeked above the horizon as they gathered on the Arcacian plains for breakfast and a short rest. Jace rubbed his sore eyes. After the days of battle and flying throughout the night, everyone could have used several hours of sleep, but General Veshiron would discover their escape any time now. They didn’t have the luxury of more than a brief pause to let the dragons catch their breaths.

  With a hard roll and fruit in hand, Jace sank down next to Kyrin and her brothers. They ate in relative silence. The shock of their defeat still hovered like a cold shadow. He wasn’t sure what they were thinking, but for him it was strange to be in Arcacia again. It felt different somehow—bleaker, darker. Half of their continent now lay under Daican’s power. How could they ever stop him? Any hopes to do so seemed dashed now, despite General Mason’s enthusiasm yesterday. What could they ever do after a defeat like this?

  He sighed. He shouldn’t think such bleak thoughts, but it was hard when he looked around at everyone, so tired and defeated. This was all that stood of their effort in Samara.

  Swallowing his breakfast down hard, Jace glanced to the east. A man walked toward them. Jace’s heart nearly punched a hole through his ribs. He pushed to his feet, unsure if he could believe his own weary eyes.

  “Elon!” he gasped.

  The commotion of movement and astonished murmurs surrounded him, but he could not take his gaze away from the familiar figure. No matter how many times he blinked, expecting to see a stranger, the face never changed. It was Him. As He drew near, Elon smiled, and tears filled Jace’s eyes. Trembling, this time from awe and joy, Jace dropped to his knees.

  “My Lord.”

  Quiet thuds sounded around him as all went to their knees. He was here. He was alive!

  After a moment, Elon reached down for Jace, drawing him to his feet. “Rise, all of you.”

  Jace looked into His eyes, the incredible, consuming love washing through him, filling up his soul.

  “How?” he breathed. “You died.”

  Elon nodded in confirmation of this truth. “But death has no hold or victory over Me, and neither does it on any who trust in My name.”

  He moved past Jace, His attention shifting between the others of the group.

  “I know you mourn your defeat in Samara.”

  Slowly, Balen nodded. “It is a difficult loss to understand. We prepared as much as we could and trusted Elôm for victory.”

  “You, yes, but so many others did not. Samara must learn and remember the faith she once had. Arcacia as well. Sometimes adversity is what’s needed to produce that faith. Samara’s defeat may yet be her victory if it turns her people’s hearts back towards My Father.”

  Balen bowed his head, nodding again. When he looked up, the reluctance that had been so present since yesterday revealed itself strongly. “Did I make the right choice in leaving?”

  “Yes,” Elon told him in a tone of comforting reassurance. “General Veshiron would have had you executed in front of your men, along with the cretes and anyone with ties to Landale.”

  Balen released a long breath, and everyone looked at each other. The entire group would have been killed. Jace moved closer to Kyrin, his heartbeat shallow as he considered it.

  Elon moved deeper into their temporary camp. “You have wounded who need tending.”

  He reached Marcus first and touched his side. By the look of awe on Marcus’s face, Jace knew h
e was immediately healed of his wound.

  One at a time, Elon healed each of their wounded soldiers and even their battle-scarred dragons. Despite what they had experienced and seen in Samara, everyone wore radiant smiles. With Him in their midst, even their defeat didn’t seem so dark.

  When He finished, He came to the center of the group again. “Your fight is not finished. You have much yet to do. You must continue to share the knowledge of Me and My Father and of salvation. You will be My witnesses to Ilyon.”

  “Can You stay with us?” Jace asked, longing in his heart transferring to his voice.

  Elon smiled gently at him. “I must return to My Father, but don’t fear. I am giving you My Spirit as a helper in the days ahead. You are never alone. You can call to Me wherever you are, and I will hear you. I will be with you always, until the end of time.”

  With these words, He rose heavenward and bright light engulfed them. When it had faded, He was gone. For a long moment, they all just stared into the sky, but a sudden breeze rippled through their camp. When it touched Jace, cool and soft, it seemed to seep into him and fill him with a strength and power he had never known before. He looked at the others. The awe on their faces said that everyone else felt it too.

  Jace looked to the sky again. To come from such darkness to this moment was something he knew he would never fully comprehend, but he praised Elôm for how his life had been transformed.

  A moment later, Kyrin’s hand slipped into his. He dropped his gaze to her face. With Elon’s Spirit inside him and Kyrin at his side, he was ready to face whatever lay ahead of them. As Elon had said, their fight was not yet finished.

  ###

  Returning Characters

  Aaron—A half-crete and former miner from Dunlow. Timothy’s older brother.

  Aertus (AYR - tuhs)—Arcacia’s male moon god.

  Altair (AL - tayr)—Kyrin’s family name.

  Anne—The daughter of Sir John Wyland.

  Aric (AHR - ick)—Emperor Daican’s head of security.

  Daican (DYE - can)—The emperor of Arcacia.

  Davira (Duh - VEER - uh)—Daican’s daughter, the princess of Arcacia.

  Elôm (EE - lohm)—The one true God of Ilyon.

  Falcor Tarn—A crete traitor and Leetra’s former fiancé.

  Glynn (GLIN)—A crete from Dorland. Captain Darq’s lieutenant.

  Goler—An Arcacian army captain and bitter rival of Trask.

  Grey—The baron of Landale.

  Holden (HOHL - den)—A former informant for Daican but now part of the resistance.

  Jace—A half-ryrik former slave and gladiator.

  Jeremy—Lenae’s son.

  John Wyland—A retired knight.

  Kaden (KAY - den)—Kyrin’s twin brother.

  Kyrin (KYE - rin)—A young Arcacian woman with the ability to remember everything.

  Leetra Almere (LEE - truh AL - meer)—A female crete from Dorland. Talas’s cousin.

  Lenae (LEH - nay)—A widowed Landale woman.

  Liam—Kyrin’s older brother.

  Lydia—Kyrin’s mother and the General’s daughter.

  Maera (MAYR - uh)—Kyrin’s dappled buckskin horse.

  Marcus—Kyrin’s eldest brother and captain of the Landale militia.

  Marcus Veshiron (Veh - SHEER - on)—Kyrin’s grandfather and an Arcacian general.

  Meredith—Lenae’s adoptive daughter.

  Mick—A resistance member from a wealthy mining family.

  Michael—Kyrin’s younger brother.

  Niton (NYE - tuhn)—Jace’s black horse.

  Rayad (RAY - ad)—One of Jace’s close friends and mentor.

  Richard Blaine—A knight and old family friend of Daican.

  Ronan “Ronny”—Kyrin’s youngest brother.

  Sam “Endathlorsam”—A talcrin man and Tarvin Hall’s wisest scholar.

  Talas Folkan (TAL - as FAHL - kan)—A friendly crete from Dorland. Leetra’s cousin.

  Tane “Imhonriltane”—Sam’s nephew.

  Timothy—A half-crete young man from Dunlow. Aaron’s younger brother.

  Trask—Resistance leader and son of Baron Grey.

  Trev—A former member of Daican’s security force. Now part of the resistance.

  Tyra—Jace’s black wolf.

  Verus Darq (VAYR - uhs DARK)—A crete captain from Dorland.

  Vilai (VI - lye)—Arcacia’s female moon god.

  Warin (WOHR - in)—An Arcacian man active in the resistance against the emperor. Lifelong friend of Rayad.

  New Characters

  Aelos (AY - loss)—One of Elon’s mysterious companions.

  Alice—A refugee at camp.

  Baron Thomas—The Baron of Westing.

  Charles Ilvaran—Henry and Evelyn’s son, the Viscount Ilvaran.

  Elanor—Rothas and Rachel’s daughter.

  Elian (EL - ee - an)—Head of security at Ashwood.

  Elon (EE - lon)—Rumored Savior.

  Evelyn Ilvaran—Henry’s wife, the Countess of Dunrick.

  General Mason—Samaran general.

  Henry Ilvaran (ill - VAHR - an)—The Earl of Dunrick.

  Hyde (HIDE)—One of Daican’s men working with Falcor.

  James—Rothas and Rachel’s son.

  King Balen (BAY - len)—The king of Samara.

  Mister Hagen—Alice’s father.

  Rachel Cantan—Rothas’s wife and the daughter of Henry Ilvaran.

  Riyel (RYE - ell)— One of Elon’s mysterious companions.

  Rothas Cantan (ROTH - uhs CAN - tan)—Emperor Daican’s war strategist.

  Tina—A maid at Ashwood.

  Walton—The butler at Ashwood.

  Dragons

  Brayle (BRAYL)—Holden’s dragon.

  Exsis (EX - sis)—Kaden’s dragon.

  Gem—Jace’s dragon.

  Ivoris “Ivy” (EYE - vohr - is)—Kyrin’s dragon.

  Shalmar (SHAL - mahr)—Warin’s dragon.

  Storm—Talas’s dragon.

  Locations

  Arcacia (Ahr - CAY - shee - uh)—The largest country of the Ilyon mainland.

  Ashwood—Home of Rothas Cantan.

  Auréa (Awr - RAY - uh)—Daican’s palace in Valcré.

  Dorland—Ilyon’s easternmost country. Inhabited by cretes and giants.

  Fort Rivor (RYE - vohr)—Arcacia’s largest military fort located southeast of Valcré.

  Ilyon (IL - yahn)—The known world.

  Landale—A prosperous province in Arcacia ruled over by Baron Grey.

  Marlton Hall—Home of Sir John Wyland.

  Samara (Sa - MAHR - uh)—A small country north of Arcacia.

  Stonehelm—Samara’s greatest stronghold along its southern border.

  Valcré (VAL - cray)—Arcacia’s capital city.

  Westing Castle—Home of Baron Thomas.

  Race Profiles

  Ryriks

  Homeland: Wildmor

  Physical Appearance: Ryriks tend to be large-bodied, muscular, and very athletic. They average between six, to six and a half feet tall. They have thick black hair that is usually worn long. All have aqua-blue colored eyes that appear almost luminescent, especially during intense or emotional situations. Their ears are pointed, which makes them very distinct from the other races. They have strong, striking features, though they can pass as humans by letting their hair hide their ears and avoiding eye contact. Ryriks typically dress in rough, sturdy clothing—whatever they find by stealing.

  Physical Characteristics: Ryriks are a very hardy race and incredibly resistant to physical abuse and sickness; however, they have one great weakness. Their lungs are highly sensitive to harsh air conditions, pollutants, and respiratory illness. Under these conditions, their lungs bleed. Short exposure causes great discomfort, but is not life-threatening. More severe, prolonged exposure, however, could cause their lungs to fill with blood and suffocate them. It is said to be a curse from choosing to follow the path of evil. Ryriks’ eyes are very sensitive, able to pic
k out the slightest movement, and they can see well in the dark. Both their sense of hearing and smell are very keen—much higher than that of humans. In times of great distress or anger, ryriks can react with devastating bursts of speed and strength.

  Race Characteristics: Ryriks are the center of fireside tales all across Ilyon. They are seen as a savage people, very fierce and cunning. To other races, they seem to have almost animal-like instincts; therefore, it is commonly believed they don’t have souls. They are a hot-blooded people and quick to action, especially when roused. They have quick tempers and are easily driven to blind rage. They prefer decisive action over conversation. Most have a barbaric thirst for bloodshed and inflicting pain. They view fear and pain as weaknesses and like to see them in others. They are typically forest dwellers and feel most comfortable in cover they can use to their advantage.

  Skills: Ryriks are highly skilled in the woods and living off the land. They are excellent hunters and especially proficient in setting ambushes. They’re experts in taming and raising almost any type of animal. They make the fiercest of any warriors. A ryrik’s favorite weapons are a heavy broadsword and a large dagger. Ryriks aren’t masters of any type of craft or art. Most of their possessions come from stealing. What they can’t gain by thieving, they make for themselves, but not anything of quality. They think art, music, or any such thing to be frivolous. Most ryriks can’t read or write and have no desire to.

  Social: Ryriks are not a very social race. Settlements are scattered and usually small. They have no major cities. Families often live on small farms in the forest and consist of no more than four to six people. Children are typically on their own by the time they are sixteen or seventeen—even younger for some males. Ryriks have a poor view of women. They see them as a necessity and more of a possession than a partner. Once claimed, a ryrik woman almost never leaves her home. She is required to care for the farm while the men are away. Most ryrik men group together in raiding parties, pillaging and destroying unprotected villages and preying on unsuspecting travelers. Ryriks have an intense hatred of other races, particularly humans.