Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1)

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Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) Page 5

by Jaye L. Knight


  Kaden let out an audible sigh. Kyrin could almost feel him frowning at her.

  “Is that so?”

  Now Meredith drew breath and opened her mouth to speak, but Kyrin nudged her. Dear Meredith, always ready to come to her defense. But if Kyrin understood anything here at Tarvin Hall, it was that tattling made enemies, and she wouldn’t let the girl come under fire for her. She already made a prime target for the other young students.

  “Yes, sir,” Kyrin answered with a reinforcing nod. “I’m the oldest and was responsible.”

  Master Zocar peered at her as if trying to draw out the truth. “Well then, you four know the consequences. No lunch, and an assigned chore to occupy your afternoon.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, Kyrin?”

  “Let them have their lunch. I’ll take the punishment, and do multiple chores if I have to.”

  Another long silence followed, and Kyrin watched his eyes. The man was a master at thinking things over without the slightest hint of his thoughts showing in his expression. Even she had difficulty reading him at times, but had no doubt of his answer.

  Eyes fixed on Kyrin, he said, “Meredith, Elise, Kaden, go find your seats.”

  He turned to open the door of the dining hall. Meredith’s face drooped as she looked up, but Kyrin gave her a quick smile and coaxed her forward.

  “Go on. I know you’re hungry.”

  “What about you?”

  Kyrin shrugged. “Not really.” After this morning, the knots still hadn’t released from her stomach.

  Meredith bowed her head and shuffled away. Elise passed by next. They traded glances, and Elise’s chin tipped up. Kyrin met it with a cold stare. No doubt Elise would have found a way out of this punishment anyway, the ungrateful manipulator. Heat prickled up inside Kyrin, but she refused to let it take hold. After all, she had done this for Meredith and Kaden and contented herself with that. The two girls entered the dining hall. Kaden, however, didn’t budge.

  “Kaden, if you please.” Master Zocar motioned to the door.

  Kyrin stared expectantly at her brother, but he refused to look at her. Stubborn.

  “Sir, I’ll do the chores. Kyrin can eat.”

  Kyrin shook her head. “I’m the oldest.”

  “By three and a half minutes.”

  Kyrin narrowed her eyes. Why did he always have to insist? But she supposed if they weren’t both stubborn, Tarvin Hall’s instructors would have separated them growing up. According to their authorities, family connections and interaction distracted them from their studies and duty to the emperor. However, regardless of any rules or consequences, they stuck together. Always had, always would.

  “Very well,” Zocar decided, “you‘ll both do the chores.”

  Kaden flashed a triumphant smile, and Kyrin rolled her eyes. He just couldn’t leave well enough alone. She returned her gaze to Master Zocar and caught the tiniest hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. After all, how many times had they gone through this?

  She sighed. Time to get it over with. “The courtyard?”

  Master Zocar gave a brief nod. “Then I would like to speak to you…” he paused and specified, “just you, in my office.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She turned and walked back down the corridor the way they had come. Kaden’s footsteps echoed beside her. Outside, she stopped at the top of the steps and stuck her hands on her hips. Kaden should have let her take responsibility for this. She refused to look at him and frowned down into the courtyard. In the center, a circular area of etched stone about fifteen feet in diameter portrayed another depiction of Aertus and Vilai. As a high traffic area, it required cleaning every few days.

  She descended the steps, and Kaden followed her across the courtyard to the maintenance shed. They each filled a bucket from the well and grabbed a hard-bristled brush. On hands and knees, they scrubbed the stones, working the bristles into the grooves. Such tedious, tiring, and sometimes painful work. Kyrin still bore bruises on her knees and scabs on her knuckles from last time. And experience had taught her it would take them over an hour to clean it to Master Zocar’s satisfaction. Students learned at a young age that shortcuts only made more work. Better to overdo than fail Zocar’s expectations.

  In some ways, Kyrin didn’t mind the work. It offered them a time of quiet away from all the activity of living at the bustling Tarvin Hall, but sometimes it left too much time for thought. Thoughts that often drifted toward home—their true home they’d left ten years ago. They could be there now, if only they’d been born normal. How could they help it if they’d learned to read as well as their eldest brother by the time they were four? And Kyrin certainly hadn’t chosen to be so aware of small details or able to remember everything that ever entered her head. Still, when they turned seven, the emperor’s men brought them here to spend their childhood developing their dedication and service. Forget their home, parents, and other brothers or the cherished days of unconcerned play. Only normal children experienced such things.

  “So…”

  Kaden’s voice snapped her attention back to their work. She looked over at him. He had a contrite little smile on his face. Apparently, her wandering thoughts had caused her to ignore him for longer than she’d intended. “You’re impossible.”

  “So are you.”

  A smile pulled at Kyrin’s lips. She fought it for only a moment before it won, but she attempted to force it away. “You just keep your eyes on your work.”

  They’d agreed a long time ago that Kaden would focus on Aertus’s side of the etching while Kyrin took care of the indecent Vilai.

  Kaden snorted. “It’s not like it isn’t right in front of me every day.” He shook his head. “It’s stupid anyway.”

  Kyrin peeked around to make sure no one had overheard him disrespect the goddess. “You know, you could’ve just let me do this myself. You must be starved by now.”

  He shrugged, though she’d never known him not to be hungry. “You could’ve just let me tell Master Zocar it was Elise’s fault we were late.”

  Kyrin dunked her brush in her bucket and let her shoulders sag. “And make more enemies?”

  “At least the right person would’ve been blamed instead of you…again.”

  Another little smile tugged Kyrin’s cheeks. He might be impossible at times, but without him, she wouldn’t have survived the last ten years. “Let them all blame me. It’s not like I can sink any lower in their estimation between being an Altair and branded for life as the ultimate snitch.”

  Kaden’s expression darkened, a sharp ring to his voice. “Grandfather was the traitor. I don’t see why we all have to live with his shame. And it’s not your fault Master Zocar and the other instructors use you all the time.”

  “I know,” Kyrin sighed. Every time they brought her into their offices to ask about the other students’ behavior or to tell her to keep an eye on someone, she hated it. “But why fuel the fire?”

  Kaden made a face and went back to scrubbing. They could complain all they wanted, but when had that ever changed their circumstances?

  At the end of the half-hour lunch period, the doors of Tarvin Hall opened, and students poured into the courtyard on their way to various activities. With them came the inevitable sneers and snickering directed at anyone under punishment, though they were especially harsh toward Kyrin and Kaden. It always bothered Kaden the most. They managed to ignore it for a while, but when someone stopped near Kyrin, she tensed.

  “So the snitch got caught breaking the rules again?” The male voice dripped with contempt. “I thought the snitch was too good to break rules.”

  Kyrin clamped her jaw shut and looked toward Kaden. His expression tightened, his fingers fisting around his brush. She gave him a shake of her head and pled with her eyes.

  A foot knocked against Kyrin’s bucket and tipped it over. Dirty water splashed everywhere. She jerked back, but not fast enough to prevent it from soaking into her pants and the long ends of her
jerkin. Kaden threw down his brush and jumped up. Kyrin scrambled to her feet. The two young men stood chest to chest. Kaden’s taller stature contrasted highly with the other young man, but his opponent didn’t back off.

  “Do you have a problem?” Kaden demanded, his voice taut.

  “It was an accident,” the other replied too innocently.

  Kaden scoffed. “Sure.”

  “You going to do something about it?”

  Kyrin’s eyes slid to the group forming off to her right, ready to back the young man up. Kaden could take any one of them, but not all at once. If things escalated, she would have to watch him get beat up and then further punished for fighting, again. All for her sake. Before it could spiral out of control, she took her brother by the arm. The iron-hard muscles in his forearm tensed under her fingers.

  “Kaden,” she said gently, but with a tone of warning. “It’s fine. Just leave it alone.”

  Neither young man moved, their gazes still warring against each other. Finally, smirking, the other young man ambled off. Kaden’s muscles bunched harder, and Kyrin tightened her grip. She said his name again, urging him to listen, and his gaze dropped to her.

  “It’s not worth it.”

  Kaden huffed. “I’m tired of how they all treat you. We’re not children anymore.”

  Kyrin gave him a grateful look and shrugged to release the tension. “As long as I’ve got you, I’m fine. Now, let’s finish up.”

  With a final glare toward the bullies, Kaden turned back to work with Kyrin, who breathed out a sigh. How many similar situations had ended with Kaden in the infirmary nursing painful cuts and bruises? More than she could count on both hands twice, and each one she could recall in vivid detail.

  Some time later, they rose, stretching their sore knees, and returned the buckets and brushes to the shed. Once inside the Hall, Kyrin went straight to Master Zocar’s office. She smoothed her still wet jerkin and knocked lightly on the huge mahogany door. At his permission to enter, she slipped inside and let the door close with an echoing click. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior, made more so by the dark wood furnishings and drapery. It gave the space a feeling of gloom that a child would find menacing. Intentional, no doubt. It had certainly terrified her at first. But she smiled now at such memories because Kaden had always been right there with her, holding her hand and making her feel protected. Now, however, she could handle Master Zocar on her own.

  “Please, sit,” he told her.

  Kyrin took a seat in the hardback chair in front of his wide desk. At one time, she and Kaden had both fit sitting side by side in this chair. It still left her feeling small.

  Elbows on the desktop, Master Zocar steepled his fingers and peered at her through half-closed eyelids. It was an old habit of his used to intimidate, but the effect was lost on Kyrin. Realizing this, he moved his hands to the arms of his chair and said, “This is already the second time this month you’ve taken the blame for someone else.”

  Kyrin said nothing. Of course, he would know exactly what she had done earlier. Little escaped him after all this time.

  “Why would you do that?” he asked when she did not speak.

  “I just wanted to make sure Meredith and Kaden got their lunch.”

  One corner of Zocar’s mouth rose a fraction as if in triumph. “And not Elise?”

  Kyrin shrugged.

  “You know, anyone else would’ve been happy to blame her for being late.”

  She considered her conversation with Kaden. No one else had their reputation—one exacerbated by almost everything they did. “It seemed like the best way to handle it.”

  Master Zocar narrowed his eyes and tapped his fingers as if trying to find an answer to an impossible question. He never had understood her or her brother. While everyone else competed for their own interests and achievements, she and Kaden fought for each other and the weaker children at Tarvin Hall. It did nothing to help them reach their full potential, as Master Zocar continually pointed out, but she didn’t expect anyone to understand their reasons.

  Finally, he gave up his scrutiny. “All right, you may go.”

  “You don’t have any extra chores for me?”

  “No. Now, go down to the kitchen and get something to hold you until supper. I won’t bother giving Kaden permission since I know he’ll end up down there anyway.”

  Kyrin’s expression fell, her conscience bruised. “We don’t mean to undermine your authority, Master Zocar,” she said softly. At least, she didn’t. Kaden had far less respect for the authority at Tarvin Hall, though, on rare occasions, he did confess his contrition over this.

  Zocar just waved off her apology. Though dictated by discipline, Kyrin had long suspected he had something of a soft spot for the two of them. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing.

  “Go on now.”

  Kyrin rose and stepped to the door. Hand on the cold, ornate knob, she glanced back. “Thank you.”

  Zocar nodded, and Kyrin let herself out. In the hall, she pulled the door closed and turned to face Kaden, who stood against the wall waiting for her. A look of defiance already lurked in his eyes.

  “So what are we doing next?”

  “What if the chores are only for me?”

  “I’m still helping.”

  She shook her head and moved past her brother. “You have to stop doing that.”

  “What?”

  “Defying Master Zocar.” She looked over her shoulder and caught that familiar look of stubbornness, but deep down he surely agreed with her. Before he could attempt any weak argument, she said, “Come on, he told me we could get something to eat.”

  Kaden’s expression brightened. It always did at the mention of food.

  The kitchen staff showed little reaction to their entrance. Kyrin found Kaden here nearly every day, despite the rules against it. No one ever mentioned it though. The motherly head cook loved to feed him due to his appreciation for her cooking and his ready compliments.

  After a quick snack, which for Kaden turned into a full meal, they wandered back upstairs with a couple of hours yet before supper.

  “I think I’ll head out to the training field,” Kyrin said.

  Kaden grinned at her. “Feel like beating something up?”

  She laughed. They might be twins, but she wasn’t that much like her brother. “No, I just enjoy practicing.”

  “Yeah, I suppose I’ll head out there too. Last time Kurt and I sparred, he said I needed to practice more. Apparently, I was sloppy.”

  Kyrin glanced sidelong at him. He didn’t lack practice. That much she knew. A skilled swordsman for his age, he just didn’t apply himself most of the time.

  They parted and turned toward the opposite ends of Tarvin Hall. Along the way, Kyrin passed several other students ranging in age from six to twenty years old. All wore identical uniforms—black pants, gold shirts, and black jerkins, though the boys’ jerkins ended at the waist while the girls’ fell longer, coming to a point at their knees.

  The east wing of the Hall held the girls’ dormitory. At the one door leading into it, a hefty woman stood guard, tall and rigid. She barely took notice of Kyrin, but kept a watchful eye, ready to chase off any boy who might try to sneak past.

  Down an incredibly long, polished wood hall, Kyrin climbed a staircase, and then another to the third floor. In the middle of this hall, she opened the door to her room. Two rows of three bunks rose one after another up the wall on the right. To the left stood a large wardrobe and a long table. A girl with flaming red hair that nearly reached her knees, the envy of the whole floor, sat on one of the bunks while a second pretty, blonde-haired girl stood at the window—Yara and Milly, two of Kyrin’s roommates. Their conversation ceased as she stepped inside.

  “What happened?” Milly asked. “Where were you during lunch?”

  Both girls appeared genuine. These two usually treated her civilly, at least to her face, though they tended to be a bit flighty and spoke of litt
le besides their latest crushes or gossip. It always miffed them when Kyrin didn’t join in.

  “Kaden and I were out with Elise and Meredith. Elise got distracted by an execution in the square.”

  Yara wrinkled her nose. “And she got out of trouble again?”

  Kyrin didn’t answer. Like Master Zocar, they would never understand. She walked to the wardrobe and pulled open the doors. Each girl had a shelf of neatly stacked clothing. Kyrin took great care to make sure the stack stayed straight and folded when she pulled out her training uniform. The girls’ head mistress would have a fit if one of her daily inspections turned up something out of place.

  While she changed into the new uniform, which was similar but sturdier than the usual one to withstand the rigors of training, Yara and Milly resumed their conversation. Surprisingly, it didn’t center around boys, but rather the big evaluation and ceremony three days from now.

  “I wonder how many will be chosen?” Milly said. “Surely more than last year. Do you think so, Kyrin?”

  “I’m sure. Master Zocar hasn’t been especially hard on everyone for nothing.”

  Yara agreed, and she and Milly speculated on who would be chosen. Kyrin had her own guesses, but she did not share them. Talk of the promotion ceremony made her queasy. All through the year, reports went to the emperor’s men on the students’ progress. From the nineteen- and twenty-year-olds who completed their training, those with the most skill or talent received a promotion to specific positions within Arcacia’s most prominent cities. Anyone left over filled smaller government roles.

  Only a couple of years remained until Kyrin’s promotion. How she wished to slow down the time. Not only would it mean separation from Kaden, but also a new, unfamiliar life. Though it might be everyone’s highest goal to achieve promotion, Kyrin wouldn’t mind if the officials overlooked her when the time came. What could she offer anyway? Acute observation skills and a perfect memory didn’t seem particularly useful. If only they’d think her useless and send her home…with her troublemaker brother, of course.

  She stuffed her damp clothes in the hamper and left Yara and Milly to their speculations. Outside, behind the Hall, the steps led down into a sweeping area with five separate training fields. Most existed for the young men and their weapons training. The riding arena took up the most space. At the creation of Tarvin Hall, they’d used it to train the students in dragon riding, not just horses. But the mysterious cretes, the only race with the skills to train dragons, had stopped dealing with Arcacia years ago. Only the very wealthy owned dragons these days, and those dwindled.

 

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