Resistance

  Though clouds blanketed the sky, it took Kyrin several moments to be able to see when they emerged in the courtyard. She pulled in the clean, warm air and focused straight ahead, but her breath was cut short. Six extra guards stood waiting. She had witnessed gatherings of guards like this before, at executions. Her legs grew weak again, and dim shadows closed in around her vision, followed by a sensation of sinking. But the stab of pain through her shoulder snapped her out of the near faint.

  The guards dragged her toward the company, two of whom were Trev and Collin. Kyrin met Trev’s gaze first. His eyes held sadness, though he kept his face blank. At least one person seemed to have pity for her. She looked next at Collin’s stormy expression. It was hard to tell if he was angry, hurt, or concerned about her. Strange to see him so bothered. He stared hard at her until she was just close enough for him to whisper, “How could you do this?”

  Kyrin breathed out, but struggled to draw in more air. It was too late to try to explain. If her throat would barely allow a breath, how could she manage words? She shook her head, eyes stinging, and looked away. He’d never understand.

  The guards closed around her. Collin took his spot to her left and stared straight ahead, his bunched jaw muscles twitching. With Aric in the lead, they marched silently through the courtyard. Kyrin struggled with the pace, her legs sluggish, but they forced her to keep moving. It must have rained recently. Puddles checkered the stone. In one, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. What a dreadful sight she made—cosmetics streaked grotesquely, hair falling in limp, matted tangles, white shift stained, and her eyes shadowed, with one side of her face bruised.

  They passed through the gate and headed straight for the square. A jolt of heat passed through her nerves. Her whole body pulsed with urges to fight and flee, but when she lagged, the guards tugged her forward. This time she couldn’t hold back a groan. Collin glanced at her, but his face blurred behind the welling of tears. She stumbled along as her unprotected feet bruised on pebbles and jagged cobblestone.

  Only another block to go. Kyrin trembled. She glanced to her right and caught Trev’s eyes again. He didn’t hold her gaze this time. Please, help me! She wanted to beg aloud, to fall at their feet and plead for mercy, but a new, clearer thought took over. She could either be overtaken by fear or fight it. No, she wouldn’t die a coward, sniveling at the feet of men who really had no power over her future anyway. If she were going to die, she would do it serving her God. Her waning strength flared back to life. She held her head higher and her steps gained confidence.

  When they drew near the square, a roar of voices rose up. What would cause such commotion? She hadn’t even arrived yet. And even at the ryrik executions, she’d never heard anything like this. A moment later, it came again, even louder, before ebbing away once more like the rushing of waves at the shore. Then the square came into view, and Kyrin sucked in her breath. Thousands had gathered.

  A murmur rippled through the mass of bodies as the guards, with Kyrin between them, moved toward the platform in the center of the square. Kyrin looked to her left and right. Hundreds of cold, hard expressions glared at her. Some broke into scowls and jeers. How could they hold such hostility against her? She was just a girl—not some murdering ryrik or depraved criminal. They didn’t even know her.

  Then they reached it—the steps leading up to the platform. Kyrin had to swallow down a reaction of fear. These steps led to death. Her heart stopped for a paralyzing moment. And to think, this had all begun with another climb, up the steps to the stage at Tarvin Hall.

  The guards shoved her forward. One step at a time, she climbed up to the platform. Her eyes met squarely with Emperor Daican’s, and their gazes held until she reached the top. Here, she looked out over the square. The size of the crowd from this vantage point dizzied her. She’d never witnessed one so large. People packed in without an inch to spare, even spilling out into the side streets as far as she could see. Thousands upon thousands of people with eyes on her. A cold chill twisted through her body.

  Her sweeping gaze snagged on one figure. Emotion exploded inside her chest, biting her eyes, and she had to blink to see.

  “Kaden.”

  Amidst the sea of people, he stood, tense and pale, his blue eyes more pained than Kyrin had ever seen them. Their gazes locked. Kyrin strained against the iron grip of the guards. She would do anything, anything to get to him. If only they’d had a little more time to escape, but the dream was dead now—so utterly crushed she had to bite back a sob. Her throat ached to call out to her brother and tell him to go, to escape, to live. She wanted to convey hope to him, but there was only pain.

  The emperor’s voice echoed out across the square and broke Kyrin’s focus. “Here she stands, the girl I bestowed with honor and great generosity, only to have her profane our gods and viciously attack me.”

  Kyrin’s eyes snapped to Daican. What?

  “No.” Her voice cracked. She gathered her voice to defend herself more loudly from the emperor’s lies, but all that came was a strangled cry as one of the guards twisted her arm. She shook her head desperately. The emperor, however, already held sway over the crowd. Their grumbling and murmuring rose up from all sides of the platform.

  “She has shamed us all, following in the footsteps of her grandfather, Jonavan Altair, betraying her emperor and her country, and blaspheming the gods.” Reaching out, Daican grabbed her by the arm. She fought him at first, but she didn’t have the strength to resist for more than a moment. He dragged her near the edge of the platform, where the people could see her clearly. “And what do you, citizens of Arcacia, believe should be the punishment for such a blatant crime as this?”

  In one massive roar, they gave their answer. “Death!”

  The sheer volume of it stole Kyrin’s breath.

  Over and over they screamed it at the platform. At her. Fists shook in the air. Courage fleeing her, Kyrin sought Kaden again. This time, Sam was with him, the only thing keeping her brother from fighting through the crowd to come to her defense. She could see it burning in his eyes—the desperation, the anger, the hurt. In her fear, she wanted him to help her and to protect her like he always did, but she knew better. He would be killed right there with her, and the threat of that outweighed the terror of the moment. She pulled in a shaky breath and set her expression. She must be strong now, to show him she accepted this as Elôm’s will, and that he must too. She wanted to show all these people she would not cower at death—that Elôm was in control, and she was prepared to give the greatest sacrifice of service to Him. She straightened in the face of their uproar.

  Daican raised a hand and silenced the outcry.

  “It shall be as you say,” he announced. “Tomorrow, here, she will die for her treason.”

  The air in Kyrin’s lungs rushed out. She wasn’t going to die, not quite yet. She had one more day.

  “But,” Daican continued in response to the crowd’s murmur of disappointment, “today she will bear the shame of her betrayal and be remembered always as her grandfather is—a traitor!”

  The crowd erupted again. One of the guards moved behind Kyrin. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. At a scraping noise, the tension released. Bit by bit, he cut through her hair. The crowd whooped and cheered as long pieces of it fell around her feet. She closed her eyes and tried to shut them out. Tears gathered against her eyelids, but she would not let them fall. Her weakness would only satisfy the onlookers. She pressed her lips together until the man finished. Her head slumped forward.

  “Look at her, the traitor!” Daican encouraged the people’s jeering.

  Kyrin stood before them, as good as naked in her shift, with her hair cut off—a vile object of scorn. She peered at them through strands of hair and cried to Elôm for strength to bear their hatred. Where did it all come from? How could one man hold so much influence over them? Did they even see her as a girl?

  Curses and insults flew at her. Then came the garbage. All manner
of rotted food and waste bombarded her as she stood alone and unprotected at the edge of the platform. She tried to duck away, but something hard struck her forehead. Light flashed in her vision, and everything went dim. She pitched sideways, almost numb to the hands that grabbed her and kept her from toppling into the crowd. Kaden’s agonized cry echoed faintly in her head, and a sensation of warmth flowed down her face. Her head lolled to the side, but she forced it up again to look out at the crowd. Though her vision blurred, she found her brother’s wide, desperate eyes. Sam had his powerful arms wrapped around Kaden’s chest to hold him back.

  And that was the last glimpse she caught of him. Someone lifted her up from her knees and held her upright until strength returned to her legs. Even then, the ground rolled beneath her, and she couldn’t form any solid thought. Her head drooped forward. Red spattered the front of her shift, spreading.

  It wasn’t until they reached the bottom of the steps that her head cleared and clarity returned. Her guards surrounded her again, and someone had an arm around her. She looked up to find it was Trev. His face was set in a determined frown. Collin must be somewhere behind her, but trying to look back made her dizzy. The crowd pressed in around them and forced the guards to push their way through. Shouting continued and garbage still flew at Kyrin, but Trev held her close to keep her shielded between himself and Aric.

  They inched forward. The tight quarters made it hard to breathe. People reached out to grab her. Someone caught her sleeve and it started to rip, but Trev yanked the man’s hand away. Kyrin’s heart thrashed her chest. Would she make it through the crush of thousands of people with just a few guards? Would her guards even try to protect her if the crowd grew more fierce? Why would they?

  The people pressed harder, their hands reaching closer and closer. A sob pushed up in Kyrin’s throat, and she shut her eyes. They would kill her. She just knew they would kill her. But Trev held her more tightly and kept guiding her forward. Kyrin almost screamed, but that’s when they broke out of the square and the tangled crowd. Aric immediately increased their pace. The houses and shops passed by in a rushed blur, and footsteps and jeering followed them. Kyrin shook all over, wanting to run, but she was hardly able to walk. Eventually, once they reached the palace, the pursuers faded away. Inside the courtyard, the last of Kyrin’s strength abandoned her. She collapsed, but Trev caught her before she hit the ground and lifted her up into his arms. Even now, he was protecting her—his last act as her bodyguard. Why did it have to end like this? If only she could thank him, but her voice failed her.

  He carried her all the way down to her cell, where he set her carefully on her feet and let Aric remove the chains from her wrists. Kyrin struggled to remain standing, but dizziness overtook her. Again, Trev broke her fall and lowered her to her knees. With the dizziness came a wave of nausea, and her stomach heaved. She barely noticed Trev back away and join the others outside the cell as the door shut.

  The torchlight faded, and Kyrin crawled to the corner and grabbed her blanket. She lay down on her side and pulled her knees up, curling into a little ball. Her forehead throbbed and sharp pains shot to the back of her skull as blood oozed down around her left eye, mixing with tears. Once again enclosed in darkness, she let her lonely sobs echo through the dungeon.

  The deep, splitting pain in Kyrin’s skull prodded her toward consciousness. She let out a weak groan. Though she tried to open her eyes, her heavy lids parted only a crack. She forced them open again, and this time she caught sight of a faint glow. It didn’t register at first, but then she jolted to full awareness. She pushed herself up and rocked dizzily. Dread clamped a hand around her throat and drove a fist into her stomach. Footsteps and torchlight approached her cell. That could only mean one thing.

  She scrambled to gather whatever bit of strength she hadn’t already spent as she thought of facing the mob again, this time to die. Trembling seized her, and tears followed along with the urge to beg for her life. She was just a girl. Couldn’t they let her live? Don’t go out like this, a quiet, but stronger part of herself admonished. Elôm, please. She let out a small cry, but then forced herself to stand up and meet her enemies with courage.

  She surely presented quite an image—covered in filth and blood. But a spark burned inside her—a spark of strength that was deeper than herself and wouldn’t die even if she did. Tears choked her, but she wouldn’t be overcome. She refused.

  Aric and Trev arrived at the cell. They glanced at each other, and Aric opened the door. “Come.”

  She waited a moment, expecting them to replace her shackles, but they did not. In this state, she didn’t present a threat anyway. She gave a resigned nod and stepped out of the cell. Trev took her firmly but gently by her good arm. As much as she wanted to be strong, she shivered in his grip and ached all over. One last meal would have been helpful in facing this fate.

  Aric took the lead, with Trev still at Kyrin’s side. They moved rather quickly, which made it difficult for Kyrin to maintain her footing. Her bruised feet ached with every step. Twice, she almost tripped, but Trev caught her.

  “Not too much farther,” he murmured.

  Kyrin glanced ahead. Nothing looked familiar. Had they even gone the same way? No, they’d turned left instead of right…hadn’t they? Her voice cracked when she spoke. “Where are we going?”

  She shook her head. What a ridiculous question, considering, but something didn’t add up. Or maybe she was just too hungry to think straight. She must look delirious.

  But a smile appeared on Trev’s face and lit his eyes. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  All the breath went out of Kyrin’s lungs, and they had to stop or she would have gone to the ground. She held on tight to Trev as she looked between him and Aric with wide eyes.

  “You’re…you’re helping me?”

  This time, Aric smiled. “We don’t believe it’s Elôm’s time for you yet.”

  At the sound of Elôm’s name from his lips, Kyrin nearly buckled again. She clung to Trev, her head a little too light.

  “I know, it’s a lot to take in,” Aric said, “but we must hurry.”

  Warmth tingled through Kyrin’s limbs and added stability to her body. They moved on and shortly came to a door at the end of the long hall. Here, they stopped. Aric doused the torch in a barrel of water and engulfed them in pure darkness. The door latch creaked, and light returned, only this was the pale light of Aertus and Vilai. Nighttime bugs chirped around them as they stepped outside. Kyrin looked up to find a wall towering above them. The tunnel had led them secretly and safely outside the grounds of Auréa.

  Her eyes dropped down again and landed on a tall figure. “Sam!”

  She put her one good arm around him, and he enveloped her in his strong embrace. Tears gushed into Kyrin’s eyes and burned her nose as the truth sank in. She was safe. She wasn’t going to die.

  “Are you all right?” Sam asked in a low, thick voice.

  Kyrin pulled away from him. “I think so.” But her own safety flew from her mind, and her eyes did a quick sweep of the area. “Where’s Kaden?”

  “He’s all right for now,” Sam assured her. “Believe me, I wanted to bring him, but he’s being watched at Tarvin Hall. There was no way I could get him out. Not tonight.” He glanced at Aric. “Kyrin, I know you’re tired, but we have to get you out of the city before someone discovers you’re gone.”

  Kyrin shook her head before he could even finish. “I can’t go without Kaden.”

  “You must.”

  “No.” Tears welled again. She couldn’t leave her brother behind. What if the emperor went after him next? He’d kill him for sure—just to spite her if nothing else.

  “Listen to me,” Sam said gently as he looked into her eyes. “I’ll do everything I can to get Kaden out, I promise. But you can’t stay here. There’s nothing you can do to help him. Trust me, he wants you to go.”

  A small sob caught in Kyrin’s throat, but she swallowed it down. It didn’t take
much to imagine Kaden standing there and telling her to leave. Of course, he would want her to. But what if she never saw him again? Biting her lip, she nodded. She had to do what he wanted and trust Sam to help him escape.

  Sam turned to guide her along with him. Two horses and another man stood under a tree nearby, dappled by the moonlight filtering through the branches. A closer look at his dark skin marked him as another talcrin. His silver-blue eyes shone as they neared.

  “Kyrin, this is my nephew, Tane,” Sam said. “He’ll take you to safety.”

  She looked up at the only other talcrin she had ever met. His face was younger than Sam’s, but just as kind.

  Sam grabbed something from the saddle of one of the horses and turned back to her. “Put this on.”

  He helped her slip a woolen overdress over her head. It was a bit big, but the thick material warded off the nighttime chill and remnants of the dungeon. He also wrapped a light cloak around her shoulders and handed her a pair of boots to slip on.

  “There are more clothes in the saddlebags. You can change once you’re well away from the city.” Sam waited for her to look up at him before continuing. “You’ll have to ride hard and fast. Do you think you can do that?”

  Kyrin nodded. It wouldn’t be easy, but for now, the warm coursing of adrenaline chased away the weariness.

  “Good,” Sam said.

  A silence fell between them. Kyrin stared up into the gold eyes she’d sought so many times for counsel and encouragement. Was this goodbye? Would they ever meet again? She fought tears, but they came too readily tonight.