Exiles

  Saul smiled. “I’m glad we could help. We want to keep Daican out of Dorland as much as the rest of you. I only wish we could have arrived sooner. We prepared and traveled as quickly as we could.”

  “You showed up just in time,” Jace told him.

  They talked for a bit before it was only Jace and Rayad once more. Jace hated how little it took to make him want to sleep again, but at least he’d lasted longer this time. Before letting himself drift off, he asked, “No one has come from Arvael or Bel-gard yet, have they?”

  Rayad shook his head. “Not yet. Tomorrow, I would expect.”

  Now that it was all over, Jace longed to see Kyrin. Maybe no one was coming from Bel-gard, and she was waiting there for news. If he’d had even the strength to get to his feet, he would’ve been sorely tempted to go after her. However, the grip of sleep grew too strong for him to resist.

  The morning sun shone warmly on Kyrin’s back, but it didn’t dispel the cold dread mounting inside of her. As fast as Prince Haedrin’s force moved, it was agony not to fly on ahead when she could reach the ford in half the time. But she honored Jace’s desire that she stay safe and stuck with the company. That is, until last evening when a large dragon force, led by Lord Vallan himself, had intercepted them. Kyrin had joined the cretes, and they’d pushed on through the night.

  Sixty dragon riders in all had come from Arvael, including Leetra, Glynn, Novan, and Captain Darq’s brothers—more than enough to crush Daican’s army and any that came behind it. But would they be in time? Fearfully, she scanned the horizon for any firedrakes that might appear. If they did, it meant everyone at the ford had failed.

  Yet, as midday approached, the sky remained empty, and the villages they passed along the way sat peacefully untouched. By noon, she spotted Jorvik’s cabin in the distance. Her fingers grew sweaty and slick on the guide bar of the saddle, and little tremors of anxiety passed up and down her arms. She pressed her free hand to her stomach in a vain attempt to rub away the tight knot there. As desperately as she needed to know everyone was all right, the terror of what she would find was stronger. Oh, please, Elôm, let them be all right. She sucked in a deep breath, but her throat squeezed together. The likelihood of survival had been so slim. She had to prepare herself for the worst.

  As they drew nearer, Kyrin spotted men in the yard—many men, yet no firedrakes. Instead, there were dragons—familiar dragons like Exsis, Gem, and Storm. The first blooming of hope sprang up inside her. They must have held Daican’s men back . . . but who had survived? Her hope grew further when she recognized the men in the yard as ryriks from Saul’s village. Had they come in time to save everyone?

  When Lord Vallan and the rest of the company landed at the edge of the yard, Kyrin didn’t even wait for Ivoris to fold her wings before she scrambled down and rushed toward the cabin, heedless of her ankle.

  “Jace! Kaden!” Despite the signs of hope, fear burned every nerve in her body, almost paralyzing her. “Marcus! Michael!”

  Why were none of her loved ones in the yard? But then a tall figure exited the cabin.

  “Kaden,” she cried, tears welling.

  He hurried down the stairs to meet her, and Marcus and Michael followed just behind him. Kyrin rushed into Kaden’s arms. Tears streamed down her face as she hugged her brother with all her might.

  “You’re alive,” she gasped. Deep down in the recesses of her heart that she had fought to ignore, she truly hadn’t expected this reunion.

  She hugged Marcus next. Before she could grab Michael, her older brother said, “Better take it easy with him. He’s got a few cuts and bruises.”

  “It’s nothing,” Michael replied, though his face was a bit pale.

  Kyrin looked around the yard again. By now, most of the others had left the cabin, though one person was alarmingly absent. Kyrin’s heart missed a beat and her stomach wrenched. She looked up at Kaden, her voice wavering. “Where’s Jace?”

  His solemn expression almost sent her to her knees.

  “He was injured pretty badly, but he should be all right. He’s inside, resting.”

  Kyrin’s breath poured out in a gust, her legs still wobbling. The moment they solidified again, she rushed up the stairs and into the cabin. Just inside the door, she paused to look around. Several cots sat in the living room bearing wounded men, but her gaze went straight to the one where Rayad sat. His face lit up to see her, and she hurried forward.

  Her gaze then locked on Jace. She’d expected to find him conscious, but his eyes were closed. Her throat swelled up again, and she drew a gasping breath. His face, particularly around his right eye, bore bruises, and a cut split his bottom lip. His left arm lay at his side, bandaged and splinted. But most disturbing was his ghostly pale skin. She’d seen him injured before but not like this. Her tears welled again.

  “What happened?”

  “His arm is broken,” Rayad answered quietly.

  Kyrin winced and waited for the rest. A broken arm hadn’t put Jace in this state. Not when he was so strong.

  “He was cut too. He came close to bleeding out.” Rayad shook his head. “Very close.”

  Kyrin brushed the stray tears from her cheeks and thanked Elôm for sparing Jace’s life. Carefully, she reached for Jace’s right hand, glad to feel the warmth of it in hers. A moment later, he stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked a couple of times and then his gaze fixed on her face.

  “Kyrin.”

  She smiled widely even as a couple more tears worked themselves free. “Jace.”

  His fingers squeezed around hers. “When did you get here?”

  “Just now. I followed Prince Haedrin and his men. Then we met up with Lord Vallan and the other riders, and I flew with them the rest of the way. I made sure I was safe.”

  Jace gave her a warm smile. “Good.”

  Leetra stood stiffly near the dragons, her feet refusing to move. She’d watched Kyrin rush up to the cabin calling for Jace and her brothers. Leetra should have followed, except for one startling fact—she wasn’t that brave. Despite how strong she always presented herself to be, fear held her in place. Fear to discover if her loved ones lived or were dead. It encased her in ice that didn’t begin to thaw until she spotted Captain Darq. He’d been her mentor for a long time. At least if the worst had happened, she could count on his strength to help her face it. Then she spotted Talas. Finally, her feet moved forward, and she hurried to meet her cousin.

  “Talas.” Her voice came out breathless in spite of how she fought to project a brave front. She eyed his arm and sling. “What did you do to yourself?”

  “Collarbone.”

  She winced, knowing firsthand how that felt, but his injury quickly flew from her mind as she glanced around the yard, searching. Looking back at Talas, she swallowed hard, but couldn’t work any words loose. She was still too afraid.

  What if he was gone?

  The question almost paralyzed her again. All the way to Arvael and back, Timothy had barely left her mind. She had relived his words so many times she could have recited them perfectly. And every time she did, regret tore her apart. She’d had so many chances to let Timothy into her heart but had pushed him away. Her stubbornness would be her ruin. She didn’t fool herself about that.

  Blinking hard against the moisture making her vision waver, she forced her mouth open to speak. However, right then, her gaze drifted past Talas. On the porch looking at her stood Timothy. A slight, welcoming smile lifted his lips, and Leetra’s heart tripped over itself before leaping in her chest. He was alive!

  Talas stepped aside, and Leetra raced to the porch, where Timothy met her at the bottom of the stairs. By now, her eyes watered so heavily she could barely make out his face. “You’re all right.”

  She didn’t know whether she actually meant it as a question or a jubilant declaration, but he nodded.

  “Yes, I’m all right.”

  She breathed hard, fighting the flood on the brink of overwhelming her. Failing, bu
t trying her best to speak calmly, she asked, “Are you hurt at all?”

  “Not badly.”

  Leetra nodded in relief, the pressure in her throat and eyes giving way. Before she could say anything more, Timothy stepped closer and reached out for her. She readily stepped into his arms and laid her head against his chest just as the dam to her tears broke. It’s true, Elôm, I am a foolish girl sometimes, but thank You for giving me another chance to try to change that.

  Kyrin remained at Jace’s side for most of the day and helped him with his supper. By late evening, the long, trying days had caught up with her. Though reluctant to leave Jace, as soon as he had fallen asleep, she took Rayad’s suggestion to go upstairs to rest.

  When she reached the top of the steps, she glanced back and found that Leetra had followed. Though cretes didn’t sleep as much, a need for rest weighed on Leetra’s expression. From what Kyrin had heard, she’d hardly rested the whole way to Arvael. Either Timothy or Talas must have convinced her to get some sleep.

  In the bedroom, Kyrin closed the door, and they both quietly changed into their nightclothes. Kyrin crawled up onto one side of the bed, while Leetra used the bedpost to hoist herself up on the other since she hadn’t discovered a way to hang her hammock. She then sat brushing out her long, black hair. Kyrin crawled under the covers and laid back against the pillows, too tired to care about her own messy braid. She’d brush it in the morning. Silently, she thought back over the day, thanking Elôm that the battle had not been the massacre they so feared.

  “How did you know you loved Jace?”

  Kyrin blinked, snapping out of her prayers, and looked over at Leetra. The girl was still brushing her hair but sent her a curious look.

  Kyrin shrugged against the pillow. “I’ve always loved Jace, probably from the very first week I got to know him. Of course, it was just friendship for a while. It really hasn’t changed all that much, it’s just . . . deeper. Now, instead of loving him just as my closest friend, I also want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

  Leetra’s forehead creased deeply. “I thought I loved Falcor.”

  “Did you love him or just the idea of being his wife?”

  Leetra contemplated this a moment before hanging her head. “I guess I don’t really know what true love is.”

  “Sure you do,” Kyrin said gently. “You love your family. You stick with them, put up with them on their bad days, you fight for them and sacrifice for them. That is true love.”

  Leetra looked up again, understanding in her eyes. “You don’t give up when they’re being stubborn and foolish and try to push you away.”

  A smile grew on Kyrin’s face. “Exactly.”

  Leetra then set her brush aside and blew out the candle next to the bed, darkening the room. The blankets rustled as she settled in and then all fell silent.

  “Thanks.” Her voice broke the silence a moment later.

  Kyrin smiled in the darkness. “You’re welcome.”

  Four days of rest and Jace was ready to leave the cot for good. Mentally, at least. He needed to get out and get some fresh air. The walls might start to close in on him otherwise. Kyrin fussed about him getting up, but he assured her that he would be fine.

  With Rayad’s help, he shuffled into a separate room to change. His broken arm made it nearly impossible to do much for himself. And despite being on his feet, his entire body trembled with weakness. If he had to fight right now, he couldn’t have even lifted a sword. It frustrated him, but he reminded himself to be thankful that he even had any life in his body. He didn’t doubt how close he had come to death. He’d fully expected it that day on the riverbank.

  Once he was fully clothed, he made his way out to the porch, barely. The moment he reached it, he sank down on one of the benches, lightheaded. When the dizziness cleared, he looked out over the yard. Tall cream and crimson tents stood in the meadow. Prince Haedrin’s men moved among them. Off to the right, the dragons basked in the sun. Most of Saul’s men had returned to their village, though Saul had remained. Jace spotted him standing with Balen, Lord Vallan, and Prince Haedrin, who seemed to be holding a small conference. A moment later, Talas approached from that direction, matching Jace with his arm in a sling. He climbed the stairs slowly, without his usual vigor, careful not to jar his arm.

  “What’s going on over there?” Jace asked.

  “They want to hold a meeting and discuss what’s next for Dorland,” Talas said. “This should be interesting.”

  Several minutes later, everyone gathered inside the cabin, where their leaders assembled around the table. Most people stood around to listen, but Holden offered Jace a chair. He didn’t want to admit how much he needed it. It was as if his body only had a small reserve of energy that he’d already spent just on getting dressed.

  When all were present, Lord Vallan handed Prince Haedrin the same parchment Jace had seen in the ryrik village. “These are the terms Emperor Daican has offered to the cretes.”

  He gave the prince a moment to read it over before saying, “Regardless of whether or not Daican truly intends to honor this agreement, I will not accept it. The Dorlanders have been our closest allies for a long time. Dorland is our home, and the emperor has declared war on it by bringing this attack against your people. You won’t have to stand against him alone. You can count on our full support.”

  Prince Haedrin nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

  “I will leave riders here to stop Daican’s second force when it arrives,” Vallan continued. “We’ll make it clear that to try to cross the Trayse will not be tolerated.” Now his attention shifted to Balen. “Once we’ve established that and Dorland is secure, then we will turn our attention to liberating Samara. Whichever way the council leans is irrelevant now. Daican has made his true intentions clear.”

  Despite the tired expression on his face, Balen smiled. “Your aid is greatly appreciated.”

  “You will have our aid as well,” Prince Haedrin announced. “Whatever you need, we will help you reclaim Samara. After all, you saved many lives here at great risk to your own.”

  Saul spoke up as well. “I’ll get word around to our other villages. I’m sure there are many of us who would be willing to help you fight and defend both Samara and Dorland.”

  Balen and Haedrin both thanked him.

  “That means if all has gone well for Sam in Arda,” Rayad said, “then Ilyon truly will be united against Daican.”

  Balen nodded. “And once Samara is free again, all believers from Arcacia are welcome to make their home there. We may not be able to change the way Daican rules, but we can create a safe haven for those endangered by it.”

  Anticipation thrummed inside Jace. Perhaps the quiet life he longed for lately wasn’t so unobtainable after all. His mind already rushed ahead, picturing a farm on the edge of the forest in Westing. But it wasn’t so much the farm that tugged at his desire; it was the return of a normal, peaceful life. He looked over at Kyrin. She met his eyes, and he read the same dreams in her expression. What a glorious future it would be if they could just attain it. Please, Elôm, let it be.

  Once they had spoken of these future plans, they focused on the immediate. They received invitations from Jorvik, Prince Haedrin, and Lord Vallan to stay with them for however long they chose to remain in Dorland. Balen thanked each of them for their hospitality, but said, “I think once we’re all fit for travel, we should return to Landale. We left a difficult situation there, and I am anxious for any news that has come from Samara.”

  Besides Talas, Jace was the only one who would find travel difficult. Still, he said, “I’m ready to return.” For right now, camp was home, and he was ready to get back.

  Balen looked at him. “You’re sure you’re up to it?”

  Jace nodded. After all, he only had to ride his dragon. Even with this lack of strength, he should be able to manage that.

  “All right then, we’ll take another day to prepare and then start back.”

 
The morning of their departure dawned with a clear sunrise and a sense of newness and hope that Jace hadn’t experienced quite like this before. The future excited him with all its possibilities. Of course, it wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded. There would be fighting. More people would probably die. But he wouldn’t let go of the hope. It was worth fighting for.

  They ate a filling breakfast with everyone who could fit inside the cabin and then gathered their things to take out to the dragons. Jace tried to carry his belongings, but Holden stepped in immediately to take them from him. Good thing too. He probably would have collapsed halfway out of the cabin, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone. According to Leetra, it would take weeks before he fully recovered from the blood loss.

  Outside, Holden also took over saddling Gem for him. Jace felt terrible that his friend had lost his dragon, Brayle, but he took it well. Without the aid of those extra dragons, Kaden and the others probably wouldn’t have succeeded in defeating the firedrakes.

  Gem cautiously sniffed his splinted arm but seemed to know to be gentle. She released a sad warble, and Jace patted her neck. “It’ll be all right.”

  He looked her over. She had patches of burns and scrapes, but they were already healing.

  Rayad approached and held a sword out to Jace. After one look at it, Jace’s brows rose in recognition. He took the familiar blade in his hand.

  “My sword,” he said in surprise. “Where did you get it?”

  “We found it near the river where you fought Ruis. Seems he was using it.”

  Jace shook his head at the irony. “I was almost killed by my own blade.”

  He turned and handed it to Holden, who attached it to the saddle with the rest of his belongings.

  “You’re sure you feel all right to make this trip?” Rayad asked as he turned back. His eyes narrowed slightly. After all, Jace didn’t exactly have a reputation for being honest about his health.

  “A few more days wouldn’t make much difference.” He shrugged. “All I have to do is sit anyway.”