Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (64 page)

Nothing prepared Kyrin for the terror of walking up to the barracks alone and unarmed. She’d walked into the temple at Auréa, but she’d had no choice. This was voluntary and went against every screaming sense of self-preservation or logic. Waves of heat and frosty cold rolled through her muscles. She drew a shallow breath, but tremors followed. What was she doing?

She looked over her shoulder, toward the trees where she had left her friends, and her feet dragged. She could still turn and run. With Niton, Jace could surely reach her before the soldiers did.
No
. She set her eyes back on the barracks and clenched her trembling fingers. Kaden was in there. If she turned back now, he’d be doomed to agonizing torture and death.

“Elôm,” she prayed to drown out the blood thrashing in her head. “I believe this will work, but only if it’s
Your will. I ask for Your protection and rescue, for me, Kaden, Trev, and Trask. Please, let it work.”

Shouting clamored from inside the barracks. Her steps faltered and her insides gave a savage twist, but she pressed forward. The palisade loomed above her now, and the gate swung open.

“And, Elôm, I pray for strength in whatever happens. Give me courage and help me trust You.”

Just outside the gate, a soldier rushed out and seized her. She winced as he pulled her roughly inside. Her gaze swept the compound, taking it all into her memory, and fell on Richard as he emerged from a nearby stone building. Triumph gleamed in his eyes. Fresh blood smeared his hands. Kaden’s blood—she was sure of it.
Please don’t let me be too late!
The soldier yanked her to a halt in front of Richard.

“Miss Altair.” He grabbed her arm in a bruising, vice-like hold and hauled her into the building he’d just exited. “I knew you’d come.”

A chill sweat dampened Kyrin’s back. The building’s dim interior and iron bars brought back images of the palace dungeon—the suffocating darkness and cold. They rounded a corner. Regular intervals of small windows let dusty streams of light into each cell. Her gaze shot straight to Kaden, and she sagged with relief. He stood at the cell door, his intense, taut expression both horrified and demanding. His ice-blue eyes snapped with questions, but an explanation would have to wait.

Richard shoved her into a cell directly across from Kaden. She turned to the man, but
was met with a solid slap across the face. She stumbled, catching herself against the wall, and grimaced. Heat radiated in her cheek from the sting of the impact, and she put her hand to it. Slowly, the sting wore off, but her lip continued to throb and blood welled. She pressed her sleeve to it and turned again to face Richard, but more cautiously this time.

He glared down at her. “You will learn very soon that you should
never
have played games with me or the emperor.”

She flinched at the slamming of the cell door. Richard turned away, casting a glance at Kaden, who gave him a flaming look, and stormed off. Kyrin stood quietly at the bars until his footsteps faded. Then, she rested her eyes on her brother. The intensity of his expression had not diminished.

“Why are you here?” His raised voice broke the silence, but she understood it came from concern. “Why did you give yourself up?”

Before she could answer, she noticed his bloodstained hands. “Are you all right?”

Kaden frowned, then seemed to realize what she meant and looked down. “I’m fine,” he muttered. He met her eyes again with the frown still in place.

“Richard was going to take your finger to send me, wasn’t he?”

Kaden refused to answer and practically glared at her.

“That’s exactly why I gave myself up. I couldn’t let him do this to you. You would’ve done the exact same thing.”

Kaden shook his head fiercely. “But you’re a girl! You shouldn’t be here. You should’ve just let it be. We’ll still be tortured and killed anyway.”

Kyrin bowed her head. She hated to upset him so. “I know.”

He threw his hands out, flinging droplets of blood. “Then why did you do it?”

Kyrin glanced down the hall. If only she could explain, but if anyone overheard, the mission would be over and they really would die. She looked back to his face and tried to appeal to him with her eyes.

“Just trust me.”

Pink dusted the sky outside the jailhouse windows when the thud of footsteps interrupted the quiet conversation inside. Sitting against the bars, Kyrin peered out of her cell. Richard appeared first, and then Goler and his soldiers. She breathed a prayer that their escape had arrived, but when Richard reached her cell, he only glared in at her without moving to open it.

“Who besides that man”—he gestured to Trask—“have aided you?”

Slowly, she rose to her feet and glanced at Trask, but said nothing.

“His father?” Richard pressed.

Kyrin’s eyes met his. “No.”

“Landale’s villagers?”

“No.”

“Who then?”

Again, Kyrin fell silent.

Richard’s voice rose. “Where have you been hiding, and who were the men with you?”

Not a word.
Kyrin just stared at him and the deep shadows brewing in his eyes.

Barely restrained, Richard said, “You really should know by now not to try my patience.”

He spun around and motioned to Kaden’s cell. Goler unlocked it with a wicked grin. Kyrin’s heart launched into her throat.
Please, not this.
They’d warned her back at camp of the possibility of Richard using Kaden to draw information from her. She’d had to promise, no matter what happened, she wouldn’t give up anything, and they trusted her with their lives.

“No,” she gasped as the men entered Kaden’s cell.

They dragged him forward and forced him to his knees facing her. Kyrin locked her fists around the bars and looked him in the eyes. His jaw set defiantly.

“You know, Miss Altair, just because you’re here doesn’t mean I can’t go through with my threats,” Richard said in a deceptively conversational tone. He grabbed Kaden by the hair and yanked his head back, placing the tip of his dagger just under Kaden’s eye.

“No!” Kyrin cried.

Richard’s glare slammed into her with the promise of action if she did not comply. “Then tell me who aided you and where you were hiding.”

Her eyes jumped between him and Kaden. Her throat constricted and strangled her words. “I…can’t.”

“You’d prefer to see your brother lose an eye?”

She stared at the menacing glint of the dagger’s sharp edge. The thought of Kaden so gruesomely harmed was too horrifying to imagine. There had to be another way.

“Miss Altair,” Richard snapped. “Give me the information.”

Moisture flooded her eyes, and her mind whirled.
Please
. She squeezed the bars, the rusted metal slivers digging into her fingers, and gritted her teeth. But she was powerless. She could do nothing without endangering the others. She gulped, throat aching. Why did it have to be this way? Could Kaden forgive her for allowing him to suffer so? Could she live with it burnt into her memory for the rest of her life? Yet, she’d chosen to risk this very situation with the hope it would lead to their escape—to save their lives no matter what was left of them. She’d already made the choice, but to have to live it…Her mouth opened, but no voice came out.

“Kyrin.”

Her blurry eyes focused on Kaden. His voice was quiet and a little shaky, yet firm.

“There are too many other lives at risk.”

Richard’s dagger cut into his cheek, just below his eye. He flinched and strained against the soldiers. Kyrin bit back a whimper. The blood trailing down her brother’s face matched her tears.

“Last chance,” Richard warned.

Kyrin scrunched her eyes closed, and her wobbly knees almost failed her. She’d choose to face Daican again, to face a murderous mob—anything but this. With an agonized groan, she cried, “Kaden, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he murmured.

Richard scowled. “Very well, Miss Altair, this is on you.”

He squeezed the dagger, and Kaden sucked in a breath.

“No!” Kyrin screamed, the nightmare fully setting in. “Please! Don’t do this! Elôm! Stop him, please!”

The point of the dagger hovered above Kaden’s closed eye. Kyrin jerked at the bars, desperate to reach her brother, and cried for Richard to stop. After a moment, he looked over at her with a smirk of twisted satisfaction on his face. He straightened and stepped out of the cell to walk across to hers. Tears still streamed down Kyrin’s face as she gulped in air. Richard reached in and grabbed her by the throat, drawing her against the bars with bruising force. Bending close,
he sneered in her face, “I could keep at this, a little bit at a time, until he’s completely unrecognizable. And lest you think your
god
has anything to do with this, no amount of pleading, crying, or screaming would stop me. I stop now only so His Majesty can watch you beg. Once we’re back in Valcré, we’ll finish this.”

Kyrin hugged her knees and huddled in the dark. Sleep was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she could only see Richard and that dagger, so close to mutilating her brother. She swiped at a tear that worked its way out, and not for the first time wished
Jace were here even though she knew it was good he’d stayed behind.

Rubbing her chilled arms, she shifted and looked over at Kaden and the others. To her eyes they were only dark, still figures, but their light breathing mingled with the chorus of bugs outside. They seemed to be asleep, though Trev was harder to tell. His breaths came hard and ragged, and he had to change positions often to get comfortable.
Her own chest hurt with worry for him. With any more rough treatment, who could say if he’d survive?

The glow of dawn offered some relief as darkness only fed her fears, yet it brought a new day of uncertainties. Despite Richard’s claim of waiting until they reached Valcré, she didn’t trust him not to torture Kaden again, just for the pleasure of it. She put her head in her hands and reached out to Elôm.

The grating shriek of the door drew her head back up and jolted the men awake. Footsteps, more than usual, echoed in the hall. Richard, Goler, and several guards from Valcré entered. Without a word, they unlocked the cells and led everyone out. A spark of hope grew inside Kyrin. This could be their escape.
Oh, Elôm, please
. But she was careful not to let any of this hope reach her face.

Outside, the coach waited, confirming Kyrin’s expectations. They marched toward it, but the group split. She stumbled to a halt and looked back as Goler led Trask off toward a group of horses. Her lungs seized. Richard grabbed her arm and tugged her forward. She pulled against him, but couldn’t break his grasp.

“What are they doing with Trask?”

Richard pulled her close, his voice low and menacing. “He’ll be executed in Landale Village as an example to the villagers of what happens when anyone, including nobility, defies the emperor.”

A tremor of panic raced through Kyrin. It wasn’t supposed to be this way! Not after all this. She struggled to look back again. This time Trask met her gaze. With just a look, he seemed to understand this wasn’t the plan. Acceptance settled, dulling the green of his eyes. He gave her a nod—a farewell.