Resistance

  Jace turned to face her, and a breath rushed out of his lungs. Neither one moved for a long moment.

  “Are you…all right?” he asked as he panted for air.

  Kyrin’s voice stuck in her throat. Fresh tremors passed down her arms and through her legs. Was she all right? Could she be? She forced out, “Yes, I’m all right.” She gulped in a deep breath, and her eyes dropped to Jace’s side. “But you’re not.”

  She rushed over to him. Blood stained the side of his jerkin. He looked down as if just becoming aware of the wound and winced, but said nothing.

  “Come, sit down,” she told him, fighting the tremor in her voice.

  She led him away from the dead ryriks. As the adrenaline and heat of battle wore off, Jace stumbled, but Kyrin kept a firm, supporting hand on his arm and walked steadily, though her bones were like willow twigs. The last ryrik she shot moaned as they passed, and his hand fumbled in the grass as if searching for his sword. He struggled once to rise, but collapsed again. She glanced at the gruesome sight with a grimace and gave him a wide berth.

  Jace eased down into the grass, but his eyes trained on the forest. His right hand still gripped his sword. “We have to get out of here in case he comes back.”

  Kyrin glanced into the trees and swallowed. If she could, she’d run straight back to camp and not stop until she reached the safety of Lenae’s cabin, but Jace needed tending. “You won’t get far if you keep bleeding like this.”

  She attempted to inspect the wound through his ripped shirt and jerkin. The blood-soaked fabric stuck to his skin, but she caught a glimpse of torn flesh. Her stomach heaved and she choked it back, praying the wound wasn’t as serious as all the blood made it appear. Of all the skills they’d taught at Tarvin Hall, why couldn’t first aid have been one of them? Praying for guidance, she pulled out Jace’s knife and slashed a panel from her split skirt. She cut it into a long strip and wrapped it tightly around Jace’s middle to cover the wound.

  “There. Hopefully that will help until we get back to camp.”

  Jace gave her an affirming nod, and she helped pull him up. Once on his feet, he kept her close and directed her away from the site of the battle. His eyes darted among the trees, and he did not return his sword to the scabbard. The ryrik could be anywhere, stalking them. No wonder Jace was so quiet in the woods. She realized now it must be an inherent ryrik skill.

  Shaking off the uncomfortable chill that needled her body, Kyrin focused on Jace. He no longer panted so heavily, but his breaths still came out labored. Though his expression didn’t show pain, he must feel some. She glanced at his bloodstained jerkin again. They were a good three miles from camp. Would he make it? Please bring us help.

  The answer to her heart-whispered prayer came when Tyra bounded out of the underbrush toward them, followed closely by Rayad, Trask, Warin, and Mick. Kyrin blew out a sigh. “Thank You, Elôm.”

  When the men reached them, Rayad grabbed Jace’s shoulder. “What happened?”

  “Ryriks,” Kyrin told them. A shudder passed through her.

  The men traded looks, and Trask asked, “Where?”

  “Back that way.” Jace motioned. “There were six of them. Only one got away.”

  Rayad seemed far more concerned about Jace’s condition than the ryriks. A little blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage. “Your wound, is it serious?”

  Jace shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Rayad looked pointedly at Kyrin.

  “I didn’t get a good look at it,” she said. “I just wanted to get the bleeding stopped.”

  “You did well,” he told her. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

  Mentally, it would take time to recover, but physically she was unharmed—a miracle. “No, I’m all right.”

  “Good,” Rayad breathed. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

  It was a long walk, and Kyrin was thankful to have Rayad there to help support Jace as his strength wore away. When they arrived, the men drew around them to see what the fuss was about.

  “Holden,” Trask called out.

  He stepped forward and cast a suspicious glance at Jace.

  “Choose a couple of the men,” Trask told him. “Arm yourselves, and get your horses. Ryriks attacked Jace and Kyrin. One got away. I want to make sure he isn’t hanging around.”

  Holden’s eyes rounded, and his face might have paled a little. But he nodded and turned to carry out Trask’s orders. At least now he would get to expend his hatred on someone other than Jace.

  As the men set off to track down the ryrik, Lenae beckoned Kyrin, Jace, and Rayad to the cabin and ushered them inside. Kyrin thanked Elôm that Lenae’s husband had been Landale’s physician and that she had assisted him. She would know just what to do for Jace. After guiding him to a bench at the table, Lenae addressed Kyrin.

  “Will you fill a basin of water and bring it and clean cloths to the table?”

  Kyrin rushed to gather the items while Lenae and Rayad removed the bandage and helped Jace pull off his jerkin and shirt. She set the basin and cloths on the table near them. The long gash below Jace’s ribs drew her eyes. Lenae pressed a cloth to the still-bleeding wound and looked up again at Kyrin.

  “There’s a medical kit in the cabinet. Make sure your hands are clean and hold a needle to a flame for a few seconds. Then thread it for me and collect some bandages.”

  She spoke in a calm voice that eased the fitful churning of Kyrin’s stomach. Kyrin followed her instructions and stood close by, ready to do anything else she could. She didn’t mean to stare, but her eyes followed the pale, raised scars crisscrossing Jace’s shoulders, back, and chest—deep scars from wounds he must have received in the arena, as well as whip scars. Tightness ached in her throat.

  He looked up and caught her staring. She tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed, and they both looked away uncomfortably.

  When Lenae began stitching the wound, Jace grimaced, and his breath caught. Kyrin bit her lip.

  “You should take it easy for a few days,” Lenae said when she finished and covered the wound with fresh bandages. “I’ll check it again tonight.”

  Jace stood slowly. He reached for his shirt and jerkin, but Lenae stopped him.

  “You can leave them. I’ll wash them and mend them for you.”

  “Thank you,” he told her quietly.

  He glanced at Kyrin and then walked outside. Rayad too thanked Lenae and followed him.

  Silence settled inside the cabin. Lenae turned warm and gentle eyes to Kyrin. She’d acted so calmly, but now concern broke through. “Are you all right?”

  Kyrin released a heavy breath. Moisture gushed into her eyes. “That’s a good question.” She sank down on the bench, and Lenae took a seat next to her. Tears spilled over. She swiped away the first ones, but more followed. “I was really scared…for both of us. They almost killed him.”

  Lenae put her arm around her and hugged her close.

  “I’ve seen ryriks before,” Kyrin said, sniffing, “but I never realized how terrifying they are…how utterly powerless you feel. If Jace hadn’t been there…” She clenched her fists, shuddering, and couldn’t get the ryrik leader’s leering face out of her mind. She never would.

  Lenae held her tightly. “But he was there,” she replied softly. “Elôm didn’t leave you defenseless.”

  Kyrin nodded and wiped her cheeks again. The tremors subsided and exhaustion set in.

  “I’m going to go up and change,” she murmured.

  Lenae let her go, and she climbed up into the loft with heavy limbs. But when she had changed out of her torn dress, she stepped outside. Jace sat near the tent, resting. She walked over to him. Today was far too horrible to let any discomfort linger between them. He looked up, and she gave him a weary little smile.

  “Thank you,” she said, right from the deepest part of her heart, “for not leaving me to them. You saved my life.”

  Jace gave his head a slight shake. “I should be the one than
king you. You stopped the ryrik from killing me.”

  Her mind flashed back to the shot she’d made. “I just did what I had to.” A fuller smile grew on her face. “I guess that makes us even.”

  The barest hint of a smile touched Jace’s lips in return, but didn’t fully materialize. Kyrin crinkled her forehead. Something troubled him, she was sure of it, but she didn’t want to press him.

  Trask and the others didn’t return until late that evening. They came to the fire where the rest of camp ate supper, and Warin asked, “Did you find him?”

  Trask shook his head. “We followed his trail a good eight miles south. I don’t expect he’ll come back, but I think it would be a good idea to post sentries from now on. At least at night, and no one should go out alone.”

  The men agreed, and as they discussed these new security measures, Kyrin worked her way around to one member of the tracking party in particular. She’d prepared for this all afternoon.

  “Holden.”

  He turned to face her.

  “I understand now,” she said, her heartbeat a little elevated. She wasn’t sure if it had completely settled at all yet. “Truly understand. But I do think you should know Jace was prepared to die before he’d let the ryriks have me. They realized he was part ryrik and offered to let him go, but he chose to protect me. He very nearly died doing so.”

  Holden stood silent as the orange firelight flickered on his hard expression. Doubt lurked, but Kyrin pressed on.

  “I saw it in Jace’s eyes, that fire and energy ryriks have, but it wasn’t like the others. It had no hatred or cruelty behind it. What I do know for sure is, if Jace didn’t have any ryrik blood, we would both be dead right now.”

  Whether this set Holden’s mind to changing or not was impossible to know for sure, but she felt much better for having told him.

  “No!”

  The agonized cry broke free, but if it was just in his mind or real, Jace didn’t know. He scrambled up. Pain ripped through his side, but it was eclipsed by the pain in his heart. He stumbled out of the tent as if to escape the horror, but it followed him, and the weight of it forced him to his knees. Gasping for air, he buried his face in his hands.

  “Jace?” Rayad touched his shoulder.

  He ripped away and staggered back to his feet. He didn’t want anyone near him—couldn’t let anyone near him.

  “What’s wrong?” Rayad asked.

  Jace shook his head vehemently, afraid that speaking might make the dream real. Still panting, he backed away from Rayad.

  “Jace, wait.”

  But he kept going as fear drove him out of camp. He hadn’t gone far before the recurring images from his dream crippled him, and he dropped to his knees. It felt so horrifyingly real. Tears poured into his eyes, pooling on the rims, but not quite falling. With shallow, ragged breaths, he clenched his fists and swore he’d never let the dream come true. No matter what it took.

  Kyrin climbed down the ladder to the sound of Lenae preparing breakfast. She glanced at the window where sunlight streamed in and was glad of the morning. Though she found a few hours of sleep, many times she woke up sweating and scared and would have to sit and pray before rest would come again. It made for a long night.

  “I expected you to sleep in this morning.”

  Kyrin’s attention returned to Lenae, and she shrugged. “I’m used to getting up early.”

  Lenae’s eyes rested on her for a moment as if searching. She’d likely heard her wake up during the night.

  “I’m all right,” she assured her. “My mind just needs time to settle.”

  Lenae gave her an encouraging smile before focusing on the coffee.

  Kyrin glanced at the door. “I think I’ll go see how Jace is. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Tell him to come in later so I can clean the wound and change the bandages.”

  “I will.”

  She opened the door and stepped outside. It was strange not to have Jace there waiting. It had become such a normal and familiar part of her day. Her eyes swept through camp. Several of the men were up, but Jace wasn’t among them. Maybe he was still asleep. He could use the rest. She walked over to Rayad.

  “Is Jace…” Seeing Rayad’s tired and troubled eyes, the question died on her lips. “What’s wrong?”

  “He had a nightmare and went off during the night.” Rayad shook his head, and lines deeply creased his forehead. “I don’t know what he dreamed about, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that upset before.”

  Worry splashed into the pit of Kyrin’s stomach like a cold bucket of water. They’d come too far to have it all fall apart now. She turned to the forest. “I’ll go look for him.”

  She started off, but Rayad warned, “Don’t go far.”

  Kyrin swallowed as the coldness spread up through her chest and into her arms. The thought of being in the forest alone, even a short distance from camp, scared her more than she wanted to admit. But her concern for Jace outweighed even that. “I won’t,” she said and went on.

  At the edge of camp, she paused to look around for any sign of where Jace had gone. If only she had his tracking expertise. The terrain didn’t give up any answers to her barely trained eye. She pressed on a little farther and called his name, but received no response. She walked the perimeter of camp slowly, often looking over her shoulder. It would take time to shake the fear of someone stalking her, and she lamented the forest losing its peaceful touch. She whispered prayers, mostly for Jace, but also some for courage.

  It didn’t take long to circle camp. Of course, Jace was capable of taking care of himself, but Rayad’s words left a gnawing ache inside her. Maybe it had to do with the way Jace acted after the attack. Something just felt wrong.

  Arriving back where she started, she stopped and her shoulders drooped. Did she dare go farther? Moisture fled her throat. She didn’t even have her bow with her. She turned to go back for it and caught a dark shape out of the corner of her eye. Her heart almost crashed through her ribs, but she blew out a sigh when she realized it was Tyra and pressed her hand to her chest. The wolf appeared fully from behind a stand of close-growing maples. She stared at Kyrin, and then turned. Kyrin hurried toward the trees.

  When she drew near, Jace stood. She halted. All the rest and health he’d regained seemed sucked right out of him. The healthy glow was gone, and his eyes were red, almost feverish. She glanced at his shirt. A small splotch of blood stained it.

  “Jace, are you all right?” She took a step closer, and he shrank back as if afraid to have her near.

  “You shouldn’t be out here.” His deep voice faltered. “You need to go back to camp…away from me.”

  Kyrin frowned, but spoke gently. “What’s wrong?”

  He just shook his head, unwilling to meet her eyes. “I can’t take you hunting anymore.”

  The declaration hit her with an invisible force that stole her breath. “But…why?”

  “You need to stay away from me.”

  She leaned in a bit to try to get him to look at her. “Is this because of your dream?” His face paled to an ashen hue. “Jace, what did you see in the dream?”

  He dragged in a labored breath and shook his head again, but Kyrin persisted. “It will be better if you come out with it. Suffering alone won’t help you.”

  Jace grimaced, but finally he spoke in a halting voice. “It…was you. You were…dead.” His fists and jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes with a wince as if in terrible pain. “I did it.”

  Kyrin let this sink in and considered her reply. “Jace?” She waited until he finally looked at her. “It was only a dream. It wasn’t real. I’m right here. You never have and never would hurt me.”

  He choked on a short pain-filled laugh. “How do you know?”

  “Why would you?”

  “Because, I’m a monster.” He ground the words out, condemning himself, and as he held her gaze, the glint and shadows in his eyes writhed with the full extent of the pain he’d li
ved with for so long. “I’m an animal, Kyrin, just like they said. You can’t trust me—”

  “No!”

  Her vehemence shocked them both. She cleared her throat, surprised by the force in her own voice, but she wouldn’t let him do this. Not now, not after everything they’d been through. He might be willing to let himself sink back into despair, but she wasn’t.

  “No,” she repeated, more softly this time. “You are not evil, you are not a monster, you are not any of the horrible things you’ve been led to think you are. You’ve been lied to from the time you could understand. You told me so yourself. But it’s just not true, Jace. You must believe that.”

  Her words collided with his lifelong beliefs. He grimaced at the struggle. “Even if I wouldn’t hurt you, people always get hurt around me. Look at Kalli and Aldor. Look at what nearly happened to you yesterday.”

  “You had nothing to do with the ryriks or with the men who killed Kalli and Aldor. You saved my life yesterday.”

  “But it’s true. Bad things happen to the people I’m close to.”

  “No.” She put her hands on her hips. She could be stubborn too, just like her brother. “If you’re trying to tell me you’re cursed, that won’t work either. It’s another lie. Things happen, Jace. Any of us could die at any time. That’s in the hands of Elôm. You have nothing to do with it.”

  A fire had lit inside her now. She’d fought too hard to help him open up and always treaded so carefully so she wouldn’t destroy their progress. It would not end with him closing himself off again out of fear something might happen to her.

  She crossed the distance between them and reached out, gripping his arms to focus his attention. “You must listen to me. I’m your friend. I care about you. You may try to push me away because you think it will make me safer, but I won’t let you do it.”

  He stared down into her eyes.

  “Stop believing the lies,” she urged. “Please stop believing them.”