Though Sam would have warned her had there been others present, her eyes swept the room before settling on his face. “Master Zocar has noticed Kaden and I don’t visit the temple anymore.”
Concern flickered in his eyes, though his expression remained unchanged. Sam was the only other person in Valcré whom Kyrin knew to be a believer in Elôm. If it weren’t for him, she and Kaden would never have learned of Elôm in the first place.
“He asked us to join them this afternoon,” she went on. This was one time she did fear Master Zocar.
“What did you say?”
“Kaden told him it’s easier to pray and worship when we’re alone.” She frowned. “While that’s always been true, I feel like it’s becoming more of a lie since it isn’t the real reason we’ve quit, and I don’t know what we’ll do if he starts pressing us.”
A slight frown creased Sam’s forehead. “Has he made any more comments recently?”
“No.”
Sam tapped his fingers against his leg in silent contemplation, and Kyrin waited. The situation didn’t present as much difficulty or danger for him. As one of the instructors, no one monitored his temple attendance like the students. One of the primary goals of Tarvin Hall was to see its pupils firmly devoted to not only the emperor, but the gods as well.
“I can’t give you the perfect answer or solution,” Sam said at last, and Kyrin gave a short nod. The beliefs they’d chosen presented growing danger, and they knew this from the beginning. “The best thing is to pray. You can be sure Elôm won’t abandon you in this. Ask for His wisdom. It may be that Master Zocar won’t approach you again, but if he does, I’m sure Elôm will direct you if you seek His guidance.”
“I’ll do that. I just wish I had stronger faith.” She prayed as often as she could, but still found herself so uncertain most of the time. Unlike her mentor, who displayed only strength and trust.
The talcrin gave her a gentle smile. “You will. Keep following the King and it will grow.” He held her gaze, his eyes searching her own. “Now, what else is bothering you?”
Kyrin lifted her brows. “I hope I’m not that apparent to everyone else.”
Sam’s smile widened. “I just know that look in your eyes.”
“It’s all this talk about the promotion ceremony…” She cringed before admitting, “I’m scared, Sam. Kaden and I could be promoted in only two years. I don’t want him taken away from me too. He’s the only family I’ve had all this time.”
“I know it’s a difficult thing to consider, but remember, you don’t know what will happen tomorrow, let alone two years from now. Elôm is always at work. You don’t know His plans for you.”
Kyrin ducked her head sheepishly. Even now, she struggled to let her faith work. “You’re right. It’s just been on my mind more than usual with the ceremony so close. I—”
The squeak of hinges cut her off. She and Sam looked toward the entrance. A moment later, Kaden came walking out from under the archway. He gave Kyrin a half smile.
“I had a feeling you were here.”
He walked up to the couch, and Kyrin scooted over to give him room as he dropped down beside her.
After nodding at Sam, he asked, “What’re you two talking about?”
“I told him about Master Zocar, and we were just talking about the ceremony,” Kyrin answered.
The deep frown that crossed her brother’s face matched her feelings on the topic. “I’ll be glad when it’s all over for another year.”
Kyrin agreed and picked at one of the seams on her jerkin. “I just wish we were born to a normal, poor family with no reputation and no special talents. Then we wouldn’t be here.”
Sam’s voice drew her eyes up. “Don’t forget, Kyrin, or you, Kaden, that King Elôm created you two exactly the way you are. Every detail about you, He designed. He gave you your talents for a reason. It may take you a lifetime to discover why, but there is a purpose.”
Right there, Kyrin prayed for Elôm to show her that purpose. “I know. But it’s hard sometimes. I feel so useless here. I want to serve Him, but how can we when we have to hide our faith?”
“By doing exactly what you know He desires of you. You may have to hide what you believe, but you can still serve Him, even here, with the way you respond to your situations and live your everyday lives. It may not seem important to you, but it is to Elôm. In all you do, even attending to your studies and doing your chores, you’re to do it for Him. That service is pleasing to Him. You may not like it, but unless they lead you to do something you know is wrong, He even desires for you to serve and follow the authority of the instructors here at Tarvin Hall as well as the emperor.”
Kyrin side-glanced at Kaden. He stared at his lap, but she still caught the guilty expression. He would not speak, but Kyrin nodded at Sam.
“Again, you’re right. Thank you. It might not be exactly what we wanted to hear, but it’s what we needed to hear.”
Sam’s smile returned. “Take heart, Kyrin. Your faith has already grown since you first believed.”
Comforted, Kyrin smiled too.
“Now,” Sam said, his voice rising a little, “it seems you two could use some good news.”
Kaden’s head snapped up.
Breaking into a wide grin, Sam told them, “I received word today that your father is in the city.”
Kyrin sat up straighter. “He is?” Her heart fluttered, and her thoughts raced ahead. This opportunity wouldn’t slip past them.
“He arrived this morning.”
“How long will he be here?” Kaden asked.
“For a few days. He’s staying up at the fort and meeting with some of the other captains.”
Kyrin’s pulse now pounded a fast rhythm. “Do you think we can see him?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Sam promised.
Kyrin grinned at her brother, who smiled back. The memory of their father’s face erased all the worries she carried. At the moment, nothing was greater than the possibility of seeing him. Her gaze jumped back to Sam. “He doesn’t know Kaden and I believe yet, does he?”
Sam shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance to tell him.”
“Just think how excited he’ll be,” Kyrin said. She almost shivered with the anticipation. According to Sam, their father had been a secret believer in Elôm for several years. How wonderful to share the same faith.
For another half an hour, she and Kaden sat with Sam, talking of their father and how they might arrange a meeting. So few of the children at Tarvin Hall ever saw their families during their stay.
Before it grew too late, she and Kaden bid Sam goodnight and left the library. Outside, under the light of Aertus and Vilai, they slowly crossed the courtyard. Kaden breathed out a heavy sigh as they neared the Hall. Kyrin looked up at him. She did not expect his frown after the news about their father.
“What’s wrong?”
Kaden stopped and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stared down at the stone underfoot. He gave a halfhearted shrug and spoke in a low whisper. “I know I shouldn’t be so defiant. It’s just…I hate what they’re doing here, you know? Taking young, innocent children away from their parents to brainwash into the emperor’s service.”
Kyrin couldn’t help the small smile that lifted the corners of her lips. It was never easy for her brother to admit his faults.
“I know it’s hard to respect Master Zocar and obey the authority here, but I think doing it as a service to Elôm will make it easier. We just have to remember it.”
Kaden nodded, and she squeezed his arm, giving him a wider smile.
“Something bothering you?”
Jace pulled his eyes from the forest alongside the road and shook his head. “No.”
He didn’t mention the incident the night before, but it still lurked in his thoughts. What had caused him and Tyra to feel such unrest? He hadn’t felt that way on the farm before. He glanced down at the wolf trotting beside Niton. The two of them had walked the farm befo
re leaving this morning, but hadn’t picked up anything out of the ordinary, so he tried to put it out of his mind.
“I know you hate going into town,” Rayad said as he looked over at him, “but it’s good to keep up with the happenings in Arcacia. We don’t want to be completely oblivious to what’s going on around us.”
Jace remained silent, perfectly content to ignore the world and its people as long as they did the same. To stay at the farm in seclusion for the rest of his life suited him just fine. He’d seen enough of the world to last him a lifetime.
Midday, he and Rayad emerged from the forest. Just ahead lay a sprawling village of quaint, mostly single- or two-story buildings constructed of gray weathered wood. A couple of farms and planted fields spread out to the right, but forest trees rimmed the open area. Nothing like Arcacia’s largest cities; otherwise Jace would have refused to come altogether. At least the forest stood nearby. It offered him a sense of security and shelter—an escape should he need to seek it.
He halted Niton at the forest’s edge and looked down. “Stay, Tyra.”
The wolf cocked her head and then sat down.
“Good girl.”
He hated to leave her, but most people held the belief that black wolves were evil—much the same as they felt about him. He scowled. They didn’t know evil like he did.
He nudged Niton forward again and followed Rayad into Kinnim. They passed the first humble dwellings and shops to find the dirt streets deserted, but commotion drifted from the center of town.
Rayad slowed to let Jace come alongside him. “I bet there’s a market today. We’ll head to Laytan’s first since it’s on the way and see if he has everything on Aldor’s list.”
They followed the dusty and rutted main street to the mercantile, one of the largest businesses in Kinnim. Jace glanced up at the sign over the front overhang. Someone had freshly painted it with crisp white and red letters since his last visit. At the hitching post out front, they tied the horses and stepped up onto the boardwalk. Through the already open door, a mixed aroma of spices, leather, and other dry goods greeted them. A stout man with dark hair and a thick beard emerged from the back storeroom as they stepped farther inside. He wiped his large hands on his canvas work apron and eyed his customers.
“Rayad.” His gruff voice carried a tone of surprise, and his eyes landed briefly on Jace with a guarded expression. “Can I help you?”
“Just need to find a few things for Kalli and Aldor,” Rayad told him.
He turned to browse the shelves, and Jace steeled himself to approach the counter. Laytan watched him as one might follow the movements of a rabid dog. Jace reconsidered for a moment, but wouldn’t give in to the intimidation. He had as much right to be here and do business as anyone. Reaching into the leather pouch on his belt, he withdrew the pickerin tusks and laid them on the counter.
“I want to sell these.”
The other man glanced down, though not enough to inspect the tusks fully. Hard expression never changing, he mumbled, “I’ll give you ten for them.”
Jace shifted his jaw and spoke coolly. “That’s what you gave me last time. These are bigger and worth more.”
The shopkeeper grumbled. Jace wouldn’t put it past him to refuse, but he finally said, “I’ll give you twenty.”
Jace accepted with a nod, ready to take the money and leave. Better to wait for Rayad with the horses than stand around here with Laytan glowering at him as if he should be locked up somewhere. The man fished the money from his cash box and dropped the coins into Jace’s hand. As he deposited them into his pouch, a second person entered from the storeroom.
“Jace!” a musically feminine voice exclaimed.
Both he and Laytan looked up as the shopkeeper’s daughter, Rebekah, joined them at the counter. She smiled brightly at Jace, her honey-blonde hair braided away from her face. Her vivid blue eyes caught on the tusks and widened.
“Oh my. When did you get those?”
Jace shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His throat suddenly lacked moisture. “Yesterday.”
As comforting as he found Kalli’s presence, younger women made him uneasy. Especially Rebekah. She possessed all the best and kindest qualities in Kinnim. Her presence always turned his thoughts to a near useless jumble, and he hated the loss of composure.
Eyes still wide and gazing up at him, she said, “He must have been huge.”
Jace shrugged and stared down at the tusks instead of her face. “He was good-sized.”
He glanced up, and Rebekah’s eyes twinkled with a grin. A moment of silence hung between them.
Laytan cleared his throat and practically growled, “Rebekah, have you finished the inventory?”
“Yes, Father,” she answered with a smile still tingeing her voice.
“Well, why don’t you check the new stock?”
“Then may I go to the market?”
Laytan hesitated. “Fine.”
Rebekah’s grin blossomed again, and she kissed her father on the cheek. Just before turning to leave, she smiled once more at Jace. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
She disappeared into the back and left a death-knell silence behind. Jace cast a reluctant glance at Laytan. The man’s eyes narrowed to a thin warning line, and Jace didn’t doubt the threat behind them. Luckily, Rayad chose that moment to approach the counter with an armful of supplies, breaking the tension. Laytan gave Jace one more razor glare before turning to his business. As much as the desire to leave pulled at him, Jace stood his ground.
When they finished the transaction, Rayad bid Laytan a good day, and Jace followed him outside. Laytan’s scowl burned into his back on the way out the door. This was exactly why he always stayed at the farm. No matter what Rayad told him, getting out never did any good for anyone, least of all him.
While Rayad stuffed the supplies into his saddlebags, Jace ran his hand down Niton’s neck, soothed by the motion. The horse turned his head, no longer the ill-tempered beast Jace had first met, and breathed into his shoulder.
“Don’t take it personally,” Rayad said, drawing Jace’s attention. “You know how protective he is of Rebekah and leery of anything even remotely out of the ordinary.”
Out of the ordinary. That summed Jace up perfectly. He supposed he would be leery too in Laytan’s position—just a normal man with purely human blood and a pretty daughter.
“I’ll take Aros and Niton to the blacksmith,” Rayad went on. “Do you want to meet me at the market?”
Jace shrugged. “I can.” The forest beckoned with its promise of seclusion and peace, but maybe he could find a small gift to bring home to Kalli. She rarely came into town. He handed Niton’s reins over to Rayad.
“Keep your ears open for any pertinent news,” Rayad instructed him.
Jace nodded. If he could do anything, it was listen and observe, and people always had plenty to say. Those aware of his mixed blood seemed to think he wouldn’t understand their whispers, or didn’t realize he could hear better than full-blood humans.
They parted ways, and Jace followed the main street to the center of Kinnim. In the large, open square, dozens of carts and stalls displayed a variety of wares. Their colorful banners and awnings fluttered in the breeze, which carried the familiar scent of linen and fruit as well as less recognizable foods and spices. Most of the townspeople gathered here to browse or visit with friends. Laughter carried from all corners of the square, but Jace’s unease remained. Laughter didn’t necessarily mean kind people.
At the edge, he stopped to watch for several minutes and contemplated whether or not it was even worth it. His lungs had trouble expanding all the way. Though this market paled in comparison to some he’d witnessed, the sights and sounds served up many unpleasant memories. Such social gatherings had always boded ill for him.
He shuddered, mouth dry again, as the recollections of those days flooded his mind. Before turning him into a gladiator, Jasper had taken great pleasure in chaining him up and chargi
ng people to take a swing at him. “The only time you’ll ever have a fair chance at taking on a ryrik,” he would say. No one cared that Jace was only half ryrik and barely more than a boy. They’d paid well.
Jace curled his fists and shook away the painful memories and Jasper’s haunting sneer. He could only hope the man had gone out of business. He never had been wise with his money, risking large amounts on certain gladiators he thought could win him a fortune, like Jace.
With a deep breath, he pushed himself to join the crowd. He made his way to each stall and ignored the obnoxious vendors bent on hawking their wares to anyone they could. Most fell silent once they noticed something odd about him. He might have appeared human, but he hadn’t met anyone yet who didn’t grow suspicious when they took a closer look. Usually, it took little more than a glimpse of his eyes.
A half an hour after he arrived, light footsteps approached. He ignored them, expecting another shopper to bypass him, but a voice startled him.
“Finding anything?”
He spun around to meet Rebekah’s smiling face. His heart gave a nervous thud.
“No. Not really.” His gaze swept the area for anyone else who may have joined her, like her father, but the market appeared clear of danger. For now. “I thought you were busy at the shop.”
Rebekah chuckled lightly. Besides Kalli, Jace had never met someone so cheerful all the time.
“There wasn’t much more to do.” She inclined her head. “Come on.”
She walked off to the next stall filled with painted and glazed pottery. He followed hesitantly, his eyes darting around the square again. A couple of people had stopped to stare at them. He turned his face away from their scrutiny, but couldn’t shake the feel of it wrapping around him.
When he caught up to Rebekah, he lowered his voice. “I don’t think your father would approve.” Or anyone in this town.
Rebekah shrugged and smiled up at him. “He still likes to believe I’m just a little girl. But he does trust my judgment, and I know I’m safe.”
Jace stared at her. How did she know that? Foolish considering she knew nothing about his past.
Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) Page 7