Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (50 page)

“He is,” Holden insisted tightly. “His ryrik blood makes him dangerous. You can’t trust him.”

Kyrin read the real concern in his eyes. He truly believed every word he spoke, and deep down he had reason to. She kept this in mind and spoke evenly. “Perhaps, but I do trust Rayad. He said Jace would never harm me, and I believe him.”

“He can’t know for sure.” Holden’s voice rose. She might have been afraid of him if his own fear wasn’t so evident. “That ryrik blood could take hold at any moment. You’d be no match for him.”

Kyrin took in a deep breath to both restrain her need to defend Jace and to gather her sympathy for Holden’s past. She would probably be afraid of Jace too if ryriks had killed her parents. Didn’t she fear the emperor and his men the same way?

“I understand why you’re telling me this, and I’m not naïve. I’ve seen ryriks before. I know what they do. I’ve seen the burning hatred and rage in their eyes, the desire to kill, but I haven’t seen any of that in Jace. All I see is deep pain and loneliness.” She sighed, picturing the image of his sunken face in her mind. “Who knows? Maybe in the end you’ll be right, but I can’t ignore the desire to help him. If Elôm can use me to do that then I’m willing, regardless of the risk.”

Holden rubbed his hand across the back of his neck in agitation. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” But he must have understood that she would not change her mind. “Just be careful,” he muttered and walked off toward a tent.

Kyrin watched him over her shoulder for a moment before going her own way. She
would not be deterred. A short distance beyond the edge of camp, she came to a nice quiet spot and glanced back to make sure no one had followed her. Satisfied that she was alone, she looked down at her feet and took a couple of steps the way Jace had taught her. If she practiced enough and wasn’t such a liability, maybe he would be more willing to take her hunting.

For the next couple of hours, she moved around the perimeter of camp as stealthily as she could. At one point, she pulled off her boots and went barefoot to get used to the feel of the
terrain. If her classmates back at Tarvin Hall could see her now, they’d think she had lost her mind. How little they really knew of the world outside their bubble of unquestioning loyalty to the emperor.

When sunset approached, Kyrin leaned against a stump to pull her boots on and hurried back to camp to help Lenae with supper. Partridge was on the menu, but tonight, Mick joined in to show them how he’d learned to prepare it with wild onion. It gave Kyrin a chance to get to know him better. She never would have guessed that he came from a wealthy mining family. As much as she could tell he loved and missed them, they had turned him in for his faith in Elôm. After escaping the authorities, he’d wandered along, begging and struggling for food until he came to Landale and met Trask.

Despite the hardship he had endured, his story and perseverance inspired Kyrin. She took a seat beside him after they served supper and was so interested in what he had to say that she nearly missed Jace’s arrival. She caught his eye as he dished his supper and smiled at him, but he didn’t hold her gaze before ducking away into the darkness, as if propelled by guilt.

Kyrin blinked the sleepiness out of her eyes. Darkness cloaked the cabin, but it must be close to dawn. A rhythmic pattering pelted the roof. Even so, she pushed aside her covers and got out of bed. Rain or shine, if Jace came by today, she wasn’t going to miss him. Maybe the wet ground would make her quieter. She pulled on her clothes and climbed down from the loft, tiptoeing to the cupboard where she buttered a roll for breakfast and packed her lunch. At the door, she slipped on her boots, cloak, and quiver. With a glance at Lenae who slept in the corner, she eased the door open and stepped outside.

A steady rain made its way through the forest canopy. She pulled the cloak close and stood against the door, where she had a little shelter. And she waited. The light of dawn came slowly because of the clouded sky. It took longer than usual before she could make out the distinct shape of tents in the murky gloom. By this time, her clothing clung damply to her skin, but she still waited another twenty minutes with eyes always on the forest. Same as yesterday, nothing moved in the trees. Not even the birds entertained her with their usual chorus this morning.

After over an hour, she gave up the wait and went inside, relishing the warmth of the fire Lenae had already been up to stoke.

“Nothing today?”

“No.” Though she wasn’t especially disappointed. It would have been a wet and miserable day to hunt. She slipped off her cloak and hung it and her quiver on a peg beside the door. “I hope it’s because of the rain and he sought shelter in one of the tents at least. It’s really coming down out there.”

“If you see Rayad, maybe you can ask him,” Lenae suggested. “And if you happen to see any of the other men close by, I want to let them know I’ll serve breakfast for them in here. We can’t have them all at once, but they can take turns. Then they can warm up and dry off while they eat.”

Kyrin helped Lenae cook up a mound of eggs and bacon and gallons of coffee. Offering to get the extra supplies from the supply shack, she ran out into the rain and let Warin know of the meal arrangement so he could inform the others. A short time later, the first group of men showed up at the door.

Kyrin dished out food and filled coffee cups while Lenae continued cooking. Every time someone walked in, she looked up with hopeful expectation, but it was never Jace. However, when Rayad walked in, she met him at the door.

“Have you seen Jace?”

“He’s in the tent. He came in just after the rain started.”

“Good,” she said, truly relieved. She’d hated the thought of him out alone without shelter in this nasty weather. “Is he coming in for breakfast?”

Rayad looked at her regretfully. “I don’t think so. He’s got food out there.”

Simply happy he wasn’t in the rain, Kyrin returned to serving.

A cheery atmosphere filled the cabin, which was packed nearly full of people and glowing with the fire and candles in contrast to the dreariness outside. Kyrin enjoyed the conversations and laughter. It was so much more agreeable than all the gossiping at Tarvin Hall.

Though busy, she kept an eye on Rayad, and when he finished and was about to leave, she filled a large mug of coffee.

“Will you take this out to Jace?” she asked him.

He gave her a warm smile of gratitude. “I’d be glad to.”

Jace stared out into the gloom as the rain drummed the tent canvas, but his thoughts were far away from this place. They took him back to the farm—back to better days. During rainy times like this, warmth, life, and the delicious smell of Kalli’s baking had filled the cabin. She almost always made him his favorite shortbread cookies when the weather turned bad. Maybe because she knew how he hated being cooped up indoors. But it wasn’t so bad at the farm. After the necessary chores, the men always found something to do, and Kalli had entertained him with stories of her childhood with nine rambunctious siblings.

Someone entered the tent, and the memories scattered. He cleared his throat and blinked several times, but a deep ache throbbed in his chest. He glanced up when Rayad offered him a steaming cup of coffee.

“Kyrin asked me to bring this out to you.”

Jace wrapped his fingers around the warm mug, frowning at thoughts of Kyrin. He’d seen her waiting outside the cabin yesterday and this morning, even in the rain. Why would she be so persistent? Didn’t she understand what he was? First Rebekah and now Kyrin. He shook his head. Young women were a mystery.

The rain beat down throughout the day and halted work around camp. The men congregated in their tents or Lenae’s cabin, where there appeared to be a never-ending supply of hot coffee. No one seemed to mind the weather as their muted voices and laughter drifted through the rain. No one but Jace. He glowered into the soggy dimness. Being confined to the small tent stifled him. Tyra had been his only companion most of the day. When Rayad did come in, they didn’t talk, though it wasn’t for lack of Rayad trying. Jace just didn’t have anything to say.

By evening, he was ready to forget the rain and take off. If it made him deathly ill, so be it. But, before he could act, Rayad came to the tent once again.

“Why don’t you come and get supper with me?”

Jace eyed Lenae’s cabin through the parted tent flap. It was sure to be crowded.

“You don’t have to eat in the cabin,” Rayad told him, tone firm, “but you can at least come and get a warm meal.”

Jace still hesitated. Yes, the idea of facing the men repelled him, but that wasn’t the main reason. Blast his nagging conscience.
It wasn’t his fault Kyrin stood waiting outside the cabin every morning. He’d never said she could go with him more than that one time, and even that had been a mistake. So why feel guilty about it?

In the end, his need to get out of the tent outweighed his discomfort, and he rose to follow Rayad. Though a chilly rain fell around them, the air refreshed his taut nerves. Comforting warmth enveloped them when they stepped into the cabin. At the mixed aroma of chicken and baked goods, Jace’s stomach growled like it hadn’t in a while. His eyes roamed over the men who sat at the table and stood around with plates. A few glanced at him, but the good food and company earned their full attention. Lenae stood at the hearth, and Kyrin moved around the cabin filling plates and mugs. Turning, she caught sight of him, and a smile lit up her face.

Jace ducked his head. So few people had ever offered him such a genuine smile. He stared at the floor and followed Rayad deeper into the cabin. He just had to get his plate and go. He didn’t even care what was on it.

“Hungry?”

He cringed at the nearness of Kyrin’s voice.

“Mm, yes,” Rayad responded. “The food smells delicious.”

Jace chanced a peek at Kyrin. Her face still glowed with a smile as she dished up generous portions of chicken and potatoes onto two plates. Before she finished, she asked, “Would you like a slice of pie? Lenae taught me how to make them this afternoon.”

“I would love one,” Rayad answered enthusiastically. He always had loved pie.

“Jace?”

He started at his name, and this time met her gaze. What was it about her that left him incapable of saying no? He nodded.

She put a large slice of berry pie on his plate and handed it to him, her eyes kind and encouraging. “There you go.”