“You don’t wish to consider being courted by him?”
Leetra sputtered. “It’s not like I’ve encouraged it.”
“But have you turned him down?”
She floundered for the right words before crossing her arms with a huff. She couldn’t believe he had done this to her. It didn’t matter if she’d outright turned Timothy down or not. “How could you just give him your permission? He isn’t even a crete! He isn’t . . . isn’t . . .”
“Isn’t Falcor?”
Leetra went cold and felt the blood leave her face. Something pained in her chest, but she forced it away.
“No, he isn’t,” her father said more gently, soberly. “Thank Elôm for that.”
Leetra swallowed hard. She couldn’t do this. Not right now. Her voice came out rough. “He isn’t like us.”
“No . . . but maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.” He stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I know how Falcor hurt you, but someday, you’ll have to move past it or you will miss out on a life of love and companionship you could have. Timothy is a good man and desires to give you that.”
Leetra ground her teeth together and a couple of tears forced themselves from her eyes despite how she fought to hold them back. She pulled away from her father and swiped them away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Kyrin loved exploring Arvael’s marketplace. Large platforms built around the trees held a multitude of small shops and stalls containing unfamiliar and interesting food and other wares. Talas, Trenna, and Naeth bought them lunch from the various items available—fresh rolls and honey from a small bakery, plump red berries that tasted a bit like blueberries, and smoked pheasant. They spent the majority of the afternoon exploring the area and learning about the city.
Late that afternoon, once they’d seen almost everything there was to see in the market, Talas turned to the group. “We should probably get ready for the celebration. It’ll begin at sunset.”
Trenna whirled around to face Kyrin. “Will you let me get you ready for the celebration? I think you would look amazing in a crete dress.”
Kyrin smiled. “That sounds like fun.” She’d always liked Leetra’s dresses. She didn’t want to miss an opportunity to wear one, and she hadn’t packed anything suitable for a party anyway.
“The problem is, we need someone whose clothes would fit you.” Trenna looked down at her own. “I’m too short.”
“What about Katia?” Naeth suggested.
Trenna’s face lit up. “Perfect.” She looked back at Kyrin. “Katia is one of the tallest women in the city. Almost as tall as you. Come on. I’ll take you to see her. I’m sure she would be happy to let you borrow something for tonight.”
Kyrin glanced at Jace and her brothers. While she felt perfectly safe with Trenna, she wasn’t sure they would be entirely comfortable with her going alone.
Jace stepped forward. “I’ll go with you.”
He sounded like it was a casual decision, but Kyrin knew better. It might be overly cautious on their part, but after everything they had been through, it was hard to trust just anyone. There could be enemies here just as easily as there were in other places.
“We’ll meet you back at the Tarn’s,” Trenna told the others.
When they turned to go, Naeth also joined them, and they left the market. As they crossed one of the first bridges, Trenna looked back. “Luckily, Katia has blue eyes like yours.”
“Do cretes always wear clothing that matches their eye color?” Kyrin asked. She had never seen any of the cretes at camp do otherwise.
“Typically, yes, though once in a while we try something different.” She shrugged and flashed a smile at Kyrin. “Always wearing the same color can get boring.”
Kyrin laughed. Cretes were anything but boring. “For ten years, I wore only black and gold every day. I don’t think I ever want to wear those colors again.”
Not far from the market, they stopped at a crete house. A few moments after Trenna knocked, a young crete woman opened the door. She was only an inch or two shorter than Kyrin and had a similar shade of blue eyes, though much more vivid. She looked at Kyrin and Jace in surprise before turning a questioning look to Trenna.
“Katia, these are my friends Kyrin Altair and Jace Ilvaran.” Trenna drew Kyrin forward. “I want to dress Kyrin up in crete style for the celebration tonight, but I’m too short to have anything that would fit her. Would you mind letting her borrow something?”
Katia eyed Kyrin again, but said, “Sure.” She opened the door wider to let them inside. As they passed through, Kyrin caught Katia and Naeth sharing a smile—the sort of smile she and Jace shared. Now she understood why Naeth had joined them.
“Everyone else is out,” Katia said. She gestured into the living room and told Jace and Naeth, “You can make yourselves comfortable.”
They nodded, and Katia led Kyrin and Trenna to one of the winding staircases across the room. On the way up, she glanced at Kyrin. “So, you’re from Landale?”
“Yes.”
“Naeth talks about joining the Resistance.”
Kyrin caught a slight hesitancy to her voice. She couldn’t blame her. She didn’t know what she would do if Jace left to join some faraway struggle.
When they entered a bedroom, Katia opened a knee-high chest.
“Will you be at the celebration tonight?” Trenna asked her.
Katia nodded. “Father wants us all to be there to show our support for King Balen.”
Trenna leaned closer to Kyrin. “Katia’s father is the leader of the Eagle Clan.”
Kyrin thought back to yesterday. The man had been one of their staunchest supporters. “I know I speak for everyone when I say that we really appreciate your family’s support.”
Katia looked over her shoulder, and at first Kyrin wasn’t sure she felt the same as her father, but then she said, “It’s men like Daican who have caused us to isolate ourselves here in Dorland. We’re not about to let him take away the freedom we do have. Fighting together benefits us all.” She turned back to the chest and pulled out a blouse a moment later. “This should work.”
She handed Kyrin the light blue linen-like garment. Kyrin unlaced her overdress, while Katia searched through a second chest, and changed into the blouse. The long sleeves were split down the side starting at the shoulder. A couple of small stitches held it together near the elbow, but otherwise it was open for the full length of the arm. An embroidered vine pattern decorated the edges and the neckline.
Next Katia handed her a soft leather skirt tanned a grayish brown. The bottom hem had raw, uneven edges. It wrapped around her waist over her leggings and fell almost to her ankles. Over the blouse, she wore a matching leather bodice constructed of several pieces stitched together decoratively and laced at the sides.
“Perfect,” Trenna said with a grin. “Now we just need to do your hair and paint.”
“Paint?”
“Whenever we have celebrations, we accent our tattoos with colored paint. You don’t have any tattoos, but we could do some pretty designs.”
It seemed a little odd to Kyrin to paint designs on her skin, but she was willing to experience the crete culture to the fullest while she was here. “All right.”
She sat down on a cushion, and Trenna and Katia both went to work on her hair. They brushed it out and then added varying shades of blue beads. On the right side, Trenna attached a couple of long, narrow feathers with black at the tips that gradually lightened to a blue hue streaked with white.
Then came the paint. Trenna took a place at Kyrin’s right shoulder, while Katia worked at her left. Each held a fine tipped brush. Before they started, Trenna asked, “What is your favorite animal or flower?”
Kyrin thought about it for a moment. Then a memory from her childhood came to her mind.
“Trilliums,” she said quietly and cleared the sudden tightness from her throat. “I like trilliums.”
Trenna nodded but said nothing about her
slightly hoarse voice. Using a light blue base color, she and Katia painted flowing designs and dots on Kyrin’s arms, starting at her shoulders and working down her upper arms to where the sleeves came together. Kyrin sat very still and watched, marveling at their steady hands. They must have had a lot of practice to do it so well. Once finished with the light blue, they accented the designs with dark blue and black paint.
After letting it dry for a couple of minutes, Trenna pronounced it finished. Kyrin lifted her arm to see her right shoulder better. In the middle of her upper arm, Trenna had painted a small trillium. The designs around it were just as lovely.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, smiling at the two cretes. If only she had a full-length mirror like the one she’d had in Auréa Palace.
“Good.” Trenna gave Kyrin a wide grin. “Let’s go down and show Jace.”
Downstairs in the living room, Jace and Naeth waited for the women to finish. Though Naeth tended to be on the quiet side, Jace found himself surprisingly at ease with him. They talked a little of the city and Naeth’s family before discussing the division between the clan leaders.
“My father was nominated for leader of the Wolf Clan, but he declined.” Naeth shook his head. “He regrets it now. If he were clan leader, things would probably be far different. No doubt it would be seven to five in our favor.”
“Why did he decline?”
“My father isn’t one to seek such elevation, and it was around the same time Falcor started acting more distant. My father thought it would be better to focus on our family. Unfortunately, we had no idea why or just how much Falcor had changed.”
He spoke blandly, as if simply stating facts, but his eyes revealed more emotion.
“Do you know now why he changed?”
Naeth shrugged. “He always held this bitterness and a warped view that humans have forced us into a lesser life than we had before. It’s not an uncommon view, but most don’t act on it. He had this group of friends, and I guess they chose to do something about it. We don’t know how they contacted Emperor Daican, or whose idea it was to provide him with the means to breed firedrakes—theirs or Daican’s. They must have made a deal they think will gain them power. They’re certainly not doing it because they want Daican to succeed.”
He paused. “We just never expected such betrayal, so we didn’t look into things the way we should have. I should have seen it. I thought he was just being difficult.”
Jace offered him a sympathetic look. Now that he had siblings of his own, he understood the feeling of responsibility as the oldest to look out for them.
A moment later, the women came down the stairs. Jace pushed up from his chair and turned just as Kyrin reached the bottom of the steps. He paused and didn’t immediately draw another breath as he took in her appearance. Their eyes met, and she approached him slowly and a bit shyly.
“Do you like it?” She smoothed her hands down the front of the skirt.
He gave the new style another long look. He hadn’t really expected to see her in something so completely crete. He met her gaze again. “It’s different.”
She bit her lip, but he quickly smiled.
“You look good in it . . .” he lowered his voice so only she could hear, “beautiful.” And she was. The colors and even the ruggedness of it suited her because it was both feminine and strong like she was.
She returned his smile and pink dusted her cheeks. “Thank you. It was fun to let them dress me up like this.”
Jace glanced at the designs on her arms, particularly her right one. “A trillium?”
Kyrin nodded, tipping her head to look at it too. “Trenna asked what my favorite flower was. My father always used to bring in bunches of them for my mother in the spring. They remind me of him.”
Jace tucked that bit of information away in the back of his mind.
With evening fast approaching, they all turned to the door. Kyrin thanked Katia on the way out, and they set off for the Tarn house. By this time, the sun had sunk lower in the sky and shadows engulfed the forest city. When they arrived, Trenna split from the group to head home to prepare herself for the party. Jace, Kyrin, and Naeth stepped inside where all the men spoke in the living room.
Kaden was the first to notice them. He looked his sister up and down and nodded. “Nice.”
“Better than my makeover at Auréa?” she asked with a laugh.
“Much.”
Kyrin glanced at the others and asked, “So, how did today go at the citadel?”
Kaden shook his head. “Doesn’t sound any better than yesterday. The opposing clan leaders are still being stubborn.”
She sighed and kept her voice low. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”
“Well, maybe Varn is right and Balen can gain some support tonight,” Kaden said hopefully. “So far, he has only spoken with the clan leaders. Maybe the rest of the people will be more open to talking. The leaders can’t remain stubborn if the majority of those in their clan want to fight.”
Jace wasn’t quite so optimistic, but they had to hold onto some hope for this trip.
“Flat Point is just ahead,” Talas announced.
Jace and the others had followed him though the city, crisscrossing one bridge after another for over twenty minutes now. Most of the city seemed to be heading in the same direction. Where could there be a place large enough to accommodate so many, especially at this altitude? Jace assumed from the name that it was another rocky point like Dragon Rest, though he saw no sign of it through the thick trees.
However, in another moment or two, he caught sight of flames flickering up ahead. Crossing a final bridge, the trees opened up to reveal a massive, flat-topped peak just a little lower than the treetops. In the center, a bonfire crackled and popped. Lanterns and torches burned along the entire perimeter. And all around, cretes stood talking. Jace had never seen so many all at once. Hesitation crept in. Though this celebration was in their honor, would the people receive them well? Cretes as a whole weren’t known as the most welcoming or gracious of hosts. He would have been more than content for them all to spend the evening at the Tarn’s house instead, but if this could help their cause, they had to be here.
When they stepped off the bridge and onto the solid rock of the point, Lord Vallan and a couple of the clan leaders met them.
“My lord.” Vallan inclined his head in greeting to Balen and acknowledged the others with a nod. “I hope you will enjoy the festivities tonight.”
“I’m sure we will,” Balen said. “I’ll be sure to thank the Folkans for setting it up.”
Vallan motioned to the gathering. “Come, I will properly introduce you to everyone.”
They followed the crete lord closer to the center of the area where the fire burned, and Vallan called for everyone’s attention. The conversations and laughter grew quiet as everyone turned in their direction—the cretes’ many colored eyes like bright gems. Jace was glad to be in the midst of a group and not singled out for attention. So far, no one seemed to notice the signs of his mixed blood, or at least weren’t alarmed by it. Hopefully tonight wouldn’t change that.
“Thank you all for coming. As you know, tonight is to honor and welcome Lord Balen, King of Samara.” He gestured to Balen.
Applause and hearty cheers rose up, though not from everyone. More than a handful of cretes stood silent and looked on in suspicion. Apparently, they’d come to enjoy the celebration and nothing more.
“No royalty from another country has visited our city in generations. I expect you to show him and his companions respect and make us all proud.”
Again came the applause and nods of agreement. Following this introduction, several cretes stepped forward to meet Balen and the others personally, including the Folkans. Jace smiled at how enthusiastic Varn was to meet the king. He was so much like Talas. They also met Darq’s two brothers, who were just as imposing as the captain. Others may have found them intimidating, but they had spent so much time with Darq their intensi
ty felt familiar.
In the midst of the greetings and conversations, Timothy cut in.
“Kyrin, Jace.”
The two of them turned, and he beckoned them over to an elderly crete man with long gray hair. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar.
With a smile, Timothy said, “I’d like you to meet my grandfather, Tolan Silvar.”
Josan’s father. That’s where the familiarity came from. Jace and Kyrin greeted him, and he smiled kindly, especially when his eyes rested on Kyrin.
“Ah, the girl with the perfect memory,” he said. “A remarkable gift.”
Kyrin smiled and nodded. “It has its drawbacks, and some things I would rather forget, but I’ve learned to cherish it for everything I can remember . . . for the memories I carry of loved ones.”
They traded a knowing look, their expressions wistful. After all, they’d both lost someone to Falcor’s hand, whether directly or indirectly.
His gaze switched to Jace and lifted to his face. Jace almost felt as though he should bend down so the man wouldn’t have to look up at him.
“And you are the one Elon saved from Daican.”
“Yes,” Jace affirmed.
Tolan nodded slowly as if imagining what had taken place. “An incredible moment that must have been.”
“Life changing,” Jace replied, his throat constricting a bit as it always did when he spoke of that time and the sacrifice Elon had willingly made for him.
“I can see it in your face.”
Jace smiled.
“I thank you for all you did for both my son and my grandsons,” Tolan told him and Kyrin.
“We were happy to do it,” Kyrin said. “Timothy and Aaron have both been a great blessing to us at camp.”
Tolan looked with pride on his grandson, and Timothy humbly stared at the ground.
They spoke with the crete a while longer before turning their attention to others. Despite the less enthusiastic attendees, there were quite a number of people eager to meet them. In between the conversations, Jace’s attention wandered around the party area. At least a couple hundred cretes had shown up. Several tables sat off to one side holding refreshments for the night.
Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4) Page 13