Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1)

by Jaye L. Knight

  Sighing, he entered the tent to replace a knife he’d used. When he ducked back out, the tension released from his body and allowed him to breathe more easily. He glanced toward the treetops and whispered a thanks before dropping his eyes back to Jace and Tyra. But his elation faded as he crossed the distance to meet them. Jace’s shadowed eyes hinted at yet another sleepless night.

  “I was afraid you’d gone.”

  Jace just stared past him, and his silence confirmed Rayad’s fears. He’d considered it.

  “Jace, all I ask is that you never go without a goodbye at least.”

  Jace finally looked at him with eyes disturbingly dull and void of any sort of will. “So you can try to talk me out of it?”

  Rayad gave a sad shrug. Of course he would. “The King knows I’ll try.” He gripped Jace’s shoulder, willing him to listen. “You’re my son, Jace, by all accounts. I can’t see it end that way.”

  Jace stood as if numbed to the world, but at last, he gave a little nod.

  “Good,” Rayad breathed. “Now, let’s get something to eat.”

  Jace put up no protest, and soon the two sat near the tent with their lunch. Rayad picked at his meat, but his eyes always returned to Jace. The blank stare on his face disturbed him like nothing he’d seen before. In the years prior to now, he thought he’d seen Jace at his lowest, but this was different. Jace always had fight in him—too much at times—but the fight had gone out, replaced by a dangerous surrender. He didn’t believe Jace would go so far as to take his own life, but letting it just deteriorate and slip away…that he might do. Especially if he refused to eat.

  Rayad shook away these thoughts. He couldn’t give up hope. He might be the only one still fighting for it.

  Footsteps signaled Trask’s approach. He looked at Rayad, a question in his eyes, and Rayad nodded. He wouldn’t have discussed Jace with others under normal circumstances, but they needed a plan to set him on the right path again, and Trask had just the thing—a specific duty around camp that might help him settle in and give him a reason to stay. A reason to live.

  Trask stopped and waited a moment, but Jace only acknowledged him with a glance.

  “I’m glad you’re back. I have a proposition for you.”

  Jace looked up more fully now, though his eyes were shielded.

  “I’d like you to take over hunting duty. The men rely on game for meals, and what we don’t use here we give out to the poorer families around the area. We haven’t had any fresh game for a couple of days now.”

  Jace absorbed this with the same lack of reaction reminiscent of their earlier days. Rayad traded a glance with Trask. Would Jace see through their motives and refuse? The longer the silence stretched on, the more likely it seemed, but then he gave a nod.

  “All right.”

  His voice lacked enthusiasm, but it was a start.

  Jace didn’t wait to finish his lunch. He gave it to Tyra and went into the tent. When he emerged with his bow and hunting supplies and started off, Rayad set his own plate aside and followed him.

  “Can we talk?”

  They’d had little enough time to speak as it was. With Jace on hunting duty now, he would have to take advantage of every opportunity. Jace, however, just trudged on as if he hadn’t heard. When they were far enough from camp to speak in private, Rayad reached out to stop him.

  “Would you just stop and listen, please? I’m trying to help you.”

  Jace’s throat moved as he swallowed, and his jaw clamped tightly. He shook his head, not looking at Rayad. “You can’t.”

  And that was at the very heart of Rayad’s frustration.

  “You’re right, maybe I can’t, but you and I both know who can. Jace, look at me.” When he did, Rayad read the doubt in his eyes. “Elôm can and will help you through this.”

  But Jace was already shaking his head again.

  “Yes, He will,” Rayad insisted.

  “No,” Jace snapped. He grimaced. “I…can’t…be helped.” Rayad opened his mouth to convince him, but Jace held up his hand. “I have the blood of a ryrik. I am a monster. I’m reminded of it every time I close my eyes.”

  “No, Jace. No,” Rayad said with conviction. “You once believed you have a soul and Elôm saved you. Deep down, you must still believe that. Don’t let the lies of the world rob you of peace and assurance. King Elôm loves you, and He wants to help you, but you need to let Him. Turn back to Him. Then you’ll find comfort.”

  Jace’s chest rose and fell as if it was the last breath he would ever take, and his eyes glittered. With a weak, defeated shake of his head, he whispered, “I don’t think so.”

  With those words, Rayad was able to see right into the broken and vulnerable soul he knew was there, and Jace came as close to crying as he had ever seen. But, in the next moment, he rebuilt the walls that both protected him and harmed him, and steeled himself against the pain. Unwilling to talk any further, he walked off.

  Rayad could only watch, but before he disappeared, he called out to him, voice husky. “I won’t ever stop praying for you, Jace.”

  The next day’s overcast sky and on and off drizzle matched Kyrin’s mood. Wrapped in a black velvet cloak, she stood at the center of the nearly empty square and waited. Trev stood behind her, but they said little this morning. Could she trust him? Could she trust anyone from the palace? What if every word she spoke condemned her further? Tears burned her already sore eyes. She must look a sight. Videlle had been convinced she was ill and couldn’t understand her going out in this weather.

  She blinked hard, desperately watching the street. Maybe Tarvin Hall’s instructors wouldn’t allow Kaden to meet her today. Then again, if he’d received her hastily sent message, he’d come with or without permission. She almost smiled, but the effort was too much.

  After more than twenty minutes, her spirits sank into the cold puddles around her feet. If he didn’t show up soon, she would have to return to the palace, alone…scared. She bunched her fists in her cloak and closed her eyes. I need to see him, please. Her heart beat sluggishly, and her body ached. Maybe she had made herself ill.

  “My lady.”

  She opened her eyes to Trev’s voice, and her gaze locked on the tall figure entering the square. She rushed to meet her brother.

  “Kaden,” she gasped, and latched onto him.

  Safety. For the first time in days, she could breathe without drowning in uncertainty. She didn’t relinquish her hold for a good long moment. When they did part, he studied her face and his eyes darkened.

  “Are you all right? You don’t look well.”

  “I couldn’t sleep last night.” She glanced back at Trev and bit her lip.

  The shadows around Kaden’s eyes deepened, and he stood up a bit taller, with his shoulders squared as if prepared to take on any enemy, no matter how big or ferocious. “What’s going on?”

  She lowered her voice. “We need to go somewhere to talk.”

  With a nod, Kaden guided her along with him. She had probably worried him, but he had good reason to be concerned. Though she’d tried her best to do her job like Sam said, everything she’d feared was manifesting itself.

  They moved through familiar streets and didn’t say a word. It had begun to mist again when they came to a less populated area of the city filled with abandoned, dilapidated buildings. Here rose an old bell tower they had discovered a couple of years earlier. They stepped inside the dim, musty interior, and Kyrin turned to Trev.

  “Will you stand guard here?”

  His watchful eyes scanned the dark, cobweb-infested corners before he nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

  Kyrin managed a bit of a smile. Maybe he wasn’t a spy. “Thank you.”

  She and Kaden took the spiraling staircase up forty feet to the top of the stone tower. Though some areas had begun to crumble, the structure was still solid. Near the top, Kaden pushed open a heavy trapdoor, and they emerged into the space where the bell once hung. The sides were open to the elements, but
the roof protected them from the rain. From this vantage point, they had a perfect view over the city. Kaden let the door down with a thump.

  Now that they were well and truly alone, he faced her. “What happened?”

  Like a dam letting loose, Kyrin poured out everything—all about the dinner, Baron Arther, and Davira. Kaden listened intently, but the creases in his forehead sunk deeper and deeper, and his jaw tensed.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Kyrin let her arms fall helplessly to her sides, all her strength spent. “How can I keep doing this if people might die because of me? And what about Davira? If she suspects me…” She shivered and battled tears again. “I’m scared, Kaden. If Baron Arther was killed, what will happen to me?”

  “Nothing.” Kaden looked off in the direction of the palace as if just his threatening glare alone could stop them. “We won’t let anything happen.”

  “But how?”

  He looked down at her, the fight growing in his eyes. “We leave. I know we said we couldn’t before, but now, what choice do we have? You can’t stay at the palace.”

  Kyrin’s heart collided with her ribs. She’d wanted to run, but could they really do it and survive? Her throat tightened and strangled her voice. “What if we get caught?”

  “We won’t.”

  He might be confident, but it would take more than just his word to assure her.

  “We can’t just run off. If we do this, we have to prepare. We’ll need food, and supplies, and we’ll need to know where we’re going.” She paused as a wave of nausea and faintness overwhelmed her. Cold spread all over. “Oh, Kaden, this is crazy. How could we do this?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Kaden reached out and squeezed her shoulders. “I’ll gather supplies and find somewhere to stash them until we’re ready. I’ll figure out how to get out of the city. As for where we’ll go, I’ll talk to Sam. He’ll help us.”

  Kyrin closed her eyes and drew in air through her cold lips. The tower seemed to spin in a circle. What was worse? Remaining at the palace near Davira, or the risk of being caught trying to escape? Either way, she could face death. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

  “We have to pray about this. We can’t just charge forward with our plans.”

  Though fired up to take action, they couldn’t foolishly rush into something of this magnitude and consequence without Elôm’s guidance. She shivered again and rubbed her arms as she looked out toward the palace. It stood like a menacing guard over the whole city—one that wouldn’t release them willingly.

  “Can we really do this?”

  “Sure we can.”

  She looked up into his eyes again—eyes that were so strong and determined. Of course, if he had his own doubts, he wouldn’t let her see them. It would only be after they were safe that he might admit his fears.

  “What’s the alternative?” he asked. “And just think about it. We’ll be away from the emperor’s influence. We’ll be able to make our own choices, live the way we want. We’ll be free.”

  At the exhilarating ring in his voice, Kyrin truly considered life outside of Valcré. It would be dangerous, but they would have their freedom. Perhaps they could even sneak in visits with their family and see their younger brothers. Warmth surged back into her veins. They could be normal.

  “All right, but make sure you talk to Sam.”

  “I will.”

  A slow grin took hold of Kaden’s face. Knowing him, he’d been prepared for this moment for the last ten years.

  “We’ll make it,” he assured her, and she trusted him.

  In the quiet, they shared their ideas about where they might go and how they would make a living after this. They would have to disguise themselves and certainly use a different family name. They’d lived for so long under the emperor’s control. What would it be like to be on their own? The first bit of giddiness tingled through her, but she cautioned herself against getting too excited just yet. They still had to pull off their escape.

  When Kyrin’s stomach growled, she looked out at the dark sky. Though the sun hid behind the clouds, it must be close to noon.

  “I should get back. I’m not sure yet if the emperor or Lady Videlle have plans for me this afternoon.”

  But she gulped at the thought of returning. How could she face the emperor, how could she face Davira, without feeling as if they could see right through her? This fear must have played over her face.

  “Listen,” Kaden said, “just lie low and act normal. Try not to let them see you’re nervous. I’ll get everything ready as quickly as I can. It should only be a few days.”

  Kyrin nodded, drawing from his strength and shoring up her own. For a few more days, she could do this.

  Kaden lifted the trapdoor. Back on ground level, Trev stood at the entrance of the tower. He stepped back as they passed through.

  “I’ll walk you back to the palace,” Kaden said.

  “What about lunch? You’ll be late.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll find something to eat.”

  At last, Kyrin smiled.

  They walked in silence from there. Kaden’s forehead wrinkled in concentration. He was brave—certainly braver than she was. Without him, she would never do this. But then, without Elôm, neither of them could. We need You to guide us in this, Elôm. Show us if this is the right decision. We—

  “Look out!”

  The shout came from Trev just a moment before light caught on the sharp edge of the blade plunging straight for Kyrin’s chest. She flinched, tensing in in anticipation of the blow. But Kaden shoved her to the side. She stumbled, and someone grunted. Regaining her balance, she locked wide eyes on a struggle between Kaden and the attacker. She took an instinctive step forward to aid him, but Trev grabbed her shoulders.

  “Stay back!”

  He rushed toward the struggle. The dagger clattered at their feet, and the attacker gave a hoarse cry as Kaden and Trev wrestled him to the ground and pinned him. Once Trev had a secure grip on his arms, they pulled him up again.

  “No!” the man cried out as he fought against them. “She has to die! The emperor has to know he can’t do this!”

  Kyrin’s face went cold and slack. Him. The same young man whose father Daican had sent to the workhouses. But his clothes were more ragged now, and his hair and eyes wild.

  “She has to die,” he said again, his face twisting in anguish. “The emperor must pay!”

  Kyrin couldn’t move. His words echoed inside her head and drowned out all thought. She stared down at the long, slender dagger that had nearly taken her life. She couldn’t draw a full breath. She’d almost died. Not at the palace, but right here on the street.

  Kaden grabbed her arm, and she flinched. She looked up into his face, but then her eyes dropped to the dark red stain seeping through his sleeve.

  “You’re hurt!”

  “I’m fine.”

  He wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders and prompted her forward. Trev led the way, guiding the prisoner in front of him. The man’s head hung in defeat, the fight having gone out of him. His shoulders shook with audible sobs. Kyrin moved numbly, and only at Trev’s voice did she realize they’d reached the palace.

  “Bring her inside,” he told Kaden. “She can send for a physician.”

  Kaden guided Kyrin up the front steps, but she paused to look back as Trev led the young man away. This was probably the last she would ever see of him. Slowly, her eyes rose to the palace. Numbness warmed into a heavy ache in her limbs. She would do anything to return to the bell tower—to hide and never enter this place again. She shook under Kaden’s arm, and he held her more tightly.

  “It’ll be all right,” he murmured.

  Kyrin offered a quick nod and fought back every cry to the contrary.

  Inside, she sent a passing servant for one of the palace physicians and took Kaden to her room. She cast her cloak aside and turned to her brother. Her eyes latched onto his sleeve and the stain that had gr
own.

  “I’m all right,” he assured her.

  She locked eyes with him, and the hoarseness welling up in her throat distorted her voice. “You could’ve been killed.” What if the dagger had found his heart instead?

  Tears tore viciously at her eyes. Trying to swallow them down, she carefully rolled back Kaden’s sleeve. A long gash ran from the middle of his forearm up to his elbow. Now that the sleeve no longer soaked in the blood, it welled up on the wound. She grabbed a towel from the dressing table and pressed it over the cut, but her fingers trembled in an effort to keep herself together.

  A moment later, Lady Videlle bustled into the room, followed by the physician.

  The woman gasped at the sight of blood. “What happened?”

  “A man tried to kill me,” Kyrin murmured.

  “Where is Trev?”

  “I think he’s taking the man to Sir Aric.”

  Videlle pressed her hand to her throat. “Oh, this is just terrible! I must inform the emperor at once.”

  She rushed out again, and Kyrin moved aside to let the physician tend Kaden, though she hovered close by to watch as he cleaned the wound. It would heal quickly, but Kyrin couldn’t think past what could have been. Inwardly, she cried out thanks to Elôm that she still had her brother.

  As the physician was applying bandages, Trev stepped into the room.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Kyrin raised her watery eyes to his face and the expression of true concern he bore, but let the physician answer.

  “He’ll be as good as new in a couple of weeks.”

  “Good.” Trev’s attention returned to Kyrin. “Are you all right?”

  She gave him a slow nod, though her heart said no. She wouldn’t be all right until she escaped this place and all the dangers it brought.