Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (46 page)

The afternoon hours passed with a comfort and peace Kyrin had not found since living at home as a child. Lenae helped her unpack her things and turn the loft into her own personal space before they shared lunch at the table with Jeremy. Though the young man struggled at first with just what to say, once he got going, he and his mother told her all about their life in Landale and transition to the forest. They’d lived such simple, yet fulfilling lives. Would it have been the same for her back in Mernin had she and Kaden not had to leave? Perhaps, but she would never know.

After lunch, Lenae showed her around camp. They stopped to talk along the way with the men who had many questions about the emperor, Valcré, and Kyrin’s abilities. The afternoon flew by, and evening soon neared.

“I usually start supper about now,” Lenae said on the way back to their cabin. “Trask insists I don’t have to cook for everyone, but I enjoy it, and I know they do too. It’s my way of contributing to Trask’s vision for this camp.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kyrin asked, anxious to make her own contribution. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about cooking though. That wasn’t the sort of thing we were taught at Tarvin Hall.” She frowned. There were a good number of life skills Tarvin Hall didn’t deem important.

Lenae gave her the heartwarming smile she was coming to love. “Of course, and I’ll be happy to teach you.”

They visited the supply shack and began making supper. Lenae showed Kyrin how to prepare venison and cook it over the fire. While it heated, the two of them peeled potatoes, sharing stories and laughter. The shadows lengthened around them, and by the time the forest grew dim, they had enough venison, savory gravy, and mashed potatoes for everyone. The men gathered from all around camp with eager eyes and filled their plates while expressing their gratitude for the meal. Everyone found seats around the fire on long benches made of half logs. They squeezed in, chatting and laughing companionably. With the entire camp together, many requested Kyrin recount what had taken place in Valcré, both of her promotion and standing up to the emperor. She ducked her head at their attention and fussing, but couldn’t refuse them.

They paid close attention to her and quickly became engrossed in her words—so much so that she alone spotted another man entering camp. The growing darkness made him difficult to distinguish, but he was tall, and the shape of a slain deer draped his shoulders. A shadow moved to his right and drew Kyrin’s eyes to a black wolf trotting at his side.

She fell silent in distraction, and everyone else looked up. With one glimpse of the newcomer, they just as quickly refocused on their food, except for one man, Rayad. He rose to meet the other man. They spoke quietly and passed close by the fire on the way to the supply shack. The firelight provided Kyrin a better look at the younger man’s powerful build and raven black hair. Curiosity and intrigue tugged at her mind. There was something different about him.

“That’s Jace,” Lenae said. “He came here with Rayad.”

“He’s half ryrik,” Jeremy added in a low tone.

Kyrin’s eyes widened. “Half ryrik?”

Jeremy just nodded and stared at his plate.

Kyrin, however, turned to look over her shoulder, though she couldn’t see much of Jace in the deepening darkness. Who had ever heard of such a thing? The people in Valcré would be astounded.

Her eyes drew back to her companions and scanned each of them. A definite hush had overtaken the previously eager and talkative group. The men either ate their food in silence or murmured and whispered amongst themselves. All except for Holden. He sat across the fire from Kyrin, and his eyes bored a flaming hole into Jace. She’d received some pretty scathing looks herself in the past, but this made her shiver.

The murmurs all died and everything fell silent but for the crackle and snap of the fire. Jace approached the nearby table and dished up a plate of supper. A pang of discomfort constricted Kyrin’s middle, the weight of the silence pressing on her. How many times had she met with such silence in a group? Jace acted as though not
a single one of them existed, but when he looked up, his eyes met hers.

She stilled under the clear, startling blue gaze. Ryrik eyes, yet lacking the fiery hatred she’d always attributed to them. Without that burning, devouring light, she could appreciate their unique brightness and beauty—just like the vivid aqua waters along the coast in Valcré. However, though hatred was absent, something just as great filled them.
Pain
. Despite their bright color, pain and hopelessness lurked in the shadows behind it.

The moment seemed to freeze around them, but Jace turned abruptly and snapped Kyrin from her thoughts. Still, she watched him. He didn’t even look for a seat among the men, instead walking off to sit near a tree at the far edge of camp, with the wolf following. She then looked around the fire. Lenae sent her son a disapproving look, to which he hung his head, and Rayad returned to his seat, but never did finish his supper. He just sat with his brows furrowed and
shoulders hunched, as if carrying a heavy weight. Conversation resumed around Kyrin, but her eyes drifted back to Jace’s lone figure in the dark.

K
yrin stood outside in the sun and scrubbed the breakfast dishes while Lenae swept and tidied the cabin. It was lovely to be outdoors without the bustling of a city full of people—only the happy sounds of conversation and the men working on the second cabin nearby. She gazed around camp and took mental note of each man present. So far, she’d seen no sign of Jace this morning. She placed another plate into the washtub and looked around again. He was probably gone hunting, considering the deer she’d seen last night. She would have liked to catch a glimpse of him though, now that it was daylight. His incredible but pained eyes had floated in and out of her thoughts ever since the moment at the fire.

When she finished the dishes, she dried her hands and stood for a long moment as her thoughts drifted. She looked up as one of the men named Mick approached. They hadn’t spoken beyond greeting each other. He left the impression of being one of the quieter men, but kind and friendly. Kyrin offered him a smile.

“Jace always sleeps off in the forest and is gone hunting all day,” he said. Kyrin stared at him in question, and he shrugged. “You seemed to be looking for someone. I figured it was Jace, since he isn’t around.”

“I guess I was.” She frowned, processing his words. “Why doesn’t he sleep in camp?”

“Nightmares. They wake him up at night. I think it embarrasses him to wake the rest of us, so he took to sleeping away from camp.”

Kyrin glanced toward the trees, where Jace spent so much time alone. “Everyone acts like they’re afraid of him.”

“Most are. They think his ryrik blood makes him dangerous. It started with Holden. His parents were killed by ryriks, and he doesn’t think Jace is any different. He’s got a lot of the others believing the same.”

“But not you?”

Mick shook his head. “Not me. I don’t judge a man by what type of blood he has. Besides, humans can be just as cruel as any ryrik.”

Kyrin’s mind flashed back to the crowd gathered around her in Valcré—how they chanted for her death and reached for her in an attempt to kill her themselves. Ice prickled up her arms.

“That’s true,” she murmured as she rubbed the goose bumps.

“I’ve tried to make him feel welcome, but I don’t think he trusts any of us. The Korvic brothers over there”—Mick gestured to three young men working on a cabin—“beat him up pretty bad a couple of weeks ago.”

Heaviness settled in Kyrin’s chest. More bullies. Just like the ones back at Tarvin Hall who always beat Kaden up. They seemed to show up everywhere. But somehow she didn’t think Jace escaped from the mental afflictions of his tormentors as easily as Kaden made it seem he disposed of theirs, and her curiosity was piqued.

“Where did Jace come from? What’s his story?”

“I only know a little from what Warin told me,” Mick replied. “You should probably talk to Rayad. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to see to anyway.”

“Sure,” Kyrin said with a nod.

Mick walked off and left her once again to her contemplations. She sent the Korvic brothers a frowning glance. The youngest spotted her and grinned. She looked away. No man who treated others so cruelly would ever gain her interest.

Jace appeared again that night, but just briefly before he walked off with his supper. And once again, he was nowhere to
be found the next morning, not that Kyrin could blame him after the reception he always received. It was uncomfortable to see him treated as she so often had been at Tarvin Hall. True, i
She trrid been in Tarvin Hall. True,omething if he were a true threat.eard ofll. It wasn'. once again, he was nowhere to be foun
t was an odd thing to know someone whose bloodline was virtually unheard of, but surely Trask would have done something if he were a real threat.

She stayed busy helping Lenae in the cabin, but her mind kept wandering back to the things Mick had told her, leaving her with questions about this intriguing man she felt such a strange connection to. When an opportunity presented itself, she set out to satisfy her curiosity. She found Rayad working on a cabin door with Warin, but now that she approached him, she was suddenly tongue-tied. If only Kaden were here to start the conversation. She might have turned around if Rayad hadn’t looked up with a smile.

“Did you need something, Kyrin?”

“I was wondering if I could talk to you
…about Jace.”

Rayad and Warin exchanged a look.

“I can finish this,” Warin said.

Rayad set his tools aside and turned to face Kyrin. “What is it you want to know?”

“I guess I’m curious where he came from…how he got here.”

Rayad seemed reluctant, protective, yet
there was a look about him that spoke of much struggle. He looked around and motioned to a nearby log. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Once they had, he looked at her, his brown eyes deep and serious. “Why are you curious about Jace?”

Kyrin considered his question and asked herself the same. It wasn’t like her to pry into other people’s lives and approach someone she hardly knew. “I guess I feel bad for him. I notice how most of the men treat him.” She clasped her hands firmly in her lap and lowered her voice as her own memories and feelings welled to the surface. “It’s not easy being the outcast.”

At hearing the pain of experience behind her words, Rayad’s eyes softened and, with a nod, he began to tell the story of Jace’s life, from his early childhood and teen years as a slave to his time as a gladiator. He recounted finding Jace, and the three years he’d spent helping him and
teaching him about Elôm. By the time he finished telling of Kalli and Aldor’s recent deaths and the turmoil Jace experienced here, despair weighed his worn expression.

“He’s slipping away, and if Elôm doesn’t intervene
…” He gave a helpless shrug. “I’ve done everything I know to do. I had hoped hunting would help bring purpose back to his life, but it has just separated us further. He’ll hardly speak to me anymore. He’s lost the will to live. He just exists now. If only I could snap him out of it, but the more I try, the more he pulls away.”

His voice had grown rough, and he shook his head. Kyrin
had been struck by the pain in Jace’s eyes but never guessed just how much lay behind it. The turmoil inside him must be excruciating.