Samara's Peril

  Her heart drummed even harder, and she wasn’t even in the office yet. How many chances would she get at this? They couldn’t remain at Ashwood much longer without Rothas suspecting something. He was already in a foul mood since discovering Jace. Elôm, please, help.

  In that moment, Rayad appeared, and Kyrin only just held in a sigh. His face was grim, reinforcing her own desperation to get to the office and get this done. When he reached the two of them, Tina finally fell silent.

  “Corrine,” his voice was deceptively stern, “I need to speak with you about some things Lady Anne has brought to my attention.”

  This was exactly what they needed to end Tina’s chatter. She gave Kyrin a sympathetic look and murmured, “Excuse me,” before scuttling off.

  Now Kyrin did blow out a sigh. “Thank you.” The girl was incessant.

  Rayad only nodded as he ushered her toward the stairs.

  “Do you think there’s still time?” Kyrin whispered.

  Rayad glanced at her, his serious expression twisting her stomach. “I hope so. The meal hasn’t ended yet. You just have to work quickly.”

  They met Kaden at the stairs.

  Kyrin gave him an exaggerated look of pity. “Just so you know, I’m much more sympathetic to your situation with Tina now.”

  He huffed and rolled his eyes as they followed Rayad cautiously upstairs. When they reached the second floor, they stopped at the top of the staircase. Here, Rayad faced Kyrin and handed her a candle.

  “Kaden and I will be waiting in your room.”

  Kyrin glanced down the dim hall that would lead to the office. This was the moment. Her skin tingled.

  “Are you all right?”

  Kyrin looked at Rayad again, giving him a quick nod. She caught eyes with Kaden, noting his worry-knit brow, before forcing herself to move. She had to do this, and she had to do it now.

  With light footsteps, she hurried across the manor house to the opposite end—the family’s wing. Her hands quivered almost as much as the small flame of the candle she tried to shield along the way. To calm herself, she whispered some of the words she had recently read in the King’s Scrolls.

  “For I have heard the slander of many, Terror is on every side; While they took counsel together against me, They schemed to take away my life. But as for me, I trust in You, O Lord. I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in Your hand; Deliver me from the hand of my enemies and from those who persecute me. Make Your face shine upon Your servant; Save me in Your lovingkindness.”

  In just a couple minutes, she arrived at the door Anne had described. She drew a shaky breath and put her hand to the knob, praying. If it was locked, their mission was as good as over. Carefully, as if the slightest sound would bring Rothas down on her, she turned the knob. It turned easily, and the door pushed open a crack. Kyrin’s heart thudded.

  Casting a nervous glance over her shoulder, she slipped inside and closed the door silently behind her. The room was dark. Her candle only cast a small circle of light, leaving the edges of the room cloaked in wavering shadows. Cold wafted across her skin from the open window across from her, the thin drapes billowing like specters. She closed her eyes for a moment and gathered her courage. Her imagination would not get the best of her.

  When she opened them again, she focused on the large desk and crossed the room. Candles, books, and parchments dotted the surface, but everything was very neat. Rothas was a man who liked things just so. Kyrin would have to be meticulous about leaving things just as she found them.

  After fixing a clear mental picture of the desk in her mind, she set the candle down and went to work. She flipped through the parchments, looking for Daican’s seal before scanning the contents. From what she could tell, they were all local correspondences.

  “Kyrin?”

  Her heart jumped into her throat, and she choked on a gasp as she spun around, nearly knocking over the candle. There, just stepping over the window frame, was Aaron. Kyrin put her hand over her drumming heart and gripped the desk, a little faint. She couldn’t get her voice to work.

  “Sorry,” he said as she stood and gaped at him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “How . . .” she managed at last, though the words were breathless. “How did you get up here?”

  “I climbed.”

  He climbed? Up the side of the manor? She had to remind herself that he was half crete and this wasn’t the first time she had seen him climb a building.

  “I thought you could use some help,” Aaron said, snapping her from shock.

  Truthfully, she would be very relieved not to be alone here. “Thanks.”

  She turned to the desk again, willing her hands to stop shaking.

  Aaron came to her side. “Find anything?”

  “No, but he probably wouldn’t leave important information lying out, even if it is his private office.”

  Arranging the stack of parchments just as she had found them, Kyrin pulled open one of the desk drawers. Again, she took a good look before touching anything. “He’s very organized, so we have to be careful to leave things exactly as they were.”

  Aaron nodded and let her do the searching.

  Praying to get this over with quickly, Kyrin fingered through the contents of the drawer.

  Jace took a sip of his wine, the tart liquid sliding over his tongue. He wrinkled his nose. He’d never had a fondness for the taste of alcohol. But this minor discomfort was nothing compared to the tension straining his insides. His gaze drifted again to the drawing room door. It took every effort to resist the powerful urge to leave. Was Kyrin back safely from the office yet? It was difficult to concentrate on anything without knowing for sure.

  A small sigh crept past his lips as he dragged his eyes back to the others. He didn’t want to cause any suspicions with his distraction. Unwittingly, his gaze met with Rothas. The man was a master at the death glare. Its burn reached all the way across the room, carrying with it a dark promise of retribution. Jace held it for a moment. He refused to be cowed. Whatever the man had planned for his next assault, Jace wouldn’t take it lying down. However, after Rothas’s failure to destroy him at the table, his coming attack was sure to be doubly vicious.

  With the continued black looks and the rest of the family working hard to keep things civil, tension thickened the atmosphere. They had only finished the meal just over half an hour ago, but Lord Dunrick apparently grew tired of the oppressive mood. He rose abruptly from the sofa.

  “It’s getting late. It’s time we returned to Brandell.”

  Lady Dunrick quietly followed along as he bid everyone goodnight. His gaze lingered a moment on Jace. It wasn’t a kindly look, but neither was it hostile. The acknowledgement encouraged Jace. After all, the earl could have simply ignored his existence.

  Charles chose to leave with them. When he came to Jace, he gripped his arm and smiled warmly. “We’ll win my father over yet. You just watch and see.”

  Jace had to smile at this. If his grandfather was willing to forget the past, then he would do his best to forget it as well.

  Now that the guests had gone, Jace resumed his seat, half-listening to the remaining women talk amongst themselves. With each minute, it grew ever harder to sit still. Every instinct inside him screamed to check on Kyrin.

  These feelings doubled when Rothas stood. He paused near James and whispered something. If only Jace were a bit closer and could hear it. The man then walked out without a word. James did not move at first, absently swirling the leftover wine in his glass. Finally, he downed it in a gulp and followed his father. On the way out, he gave Jace a smoldering, squinty-eyed glance. Though he walked steadily enough, he seemed to have had a bit too much to drink. Jace narrowed his own eyes in disgust, but his nerves tingled in warning. Twice now, Rothas and James had slunk off in private.

  Now that they had gone, Jace didn’t think he could stay still much longer. Who knew where Rothas was headed? Kyrin had better be out of that office. If he didn’t find out
soon, the unknown would kill him. Moisture welled around his neck and soaked into his collar, which seemed to tighten around his throat. He had to work hard not to appear too relieved when Anne gave her excuses to retire for the evening. They all rose.

  “I think I’ll head up too,” Jace said.

  Rachel smiled at him and nodded. He turned to go, but she touched his arm.

  “For what it’s worth, it was good to have you at the table tonight. You handled it very well.”

  “Thank you.” Jace would have liked to linger and speak with her and Elanor more, but his thoughts and concern for Kyrin overwhelmed the desire. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night,” his mother’s soft words trailed after him as he left the room.

  Hurrying, Jace caught up to Anne at the staircase. They said nothing, but shared apprehension passed between them. Jace wouldn’t relax until he set eyes on Kyrin’s face. Please, let her be there. Anything could have happened in the time he sat dining with his family.

  Jace’s heart was thrashing by the time they reached the room. Anne pushed open the door, and they both walked in. Rayad and Kaden’s anxious expressions sent Jace’s stomach to his feet.

  “Kyrin’s not here yet?” Anne asked.

  Rayad shook his head. “No.”

  Jace’s mind went into a spin, but he forced himself to focus… to breathe.

  “How long has she been gone?” Anne questioned.

  “About an hour. She was detained by that young maid, Tina, and got a late start,” Rayad answered. “Where’s Rothas?”

  Anne shook her head. “Lord and Lady Dunrick left about fifteen minutes ago, and Rothas disappeared shortly after that.”

  “Did he mention going to his office?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  Jace had heard enough. Visions of Kyrin being hurt or even killed by the monstrous man swarmed his mind. He turned for the door. “I’m going to get her.”

  “Jace, stop.”

  He spun around, his entire body rigid. Rayad had a hand to Kaden’s shoulder, apparently restraining him from following after Jace. He looked at both of them.

  “If either of you get caught near that office, with or without Kyrin, it will be just as dangerous and disastrous as Kyrin getting caught herself.”

  “We can’t just sit here and wait to see if she comes back all right,” Kaden said, voicing Jace’s thoughts exactly.

  “I don’t think we have much choice,” Rayad replied. “By going after her, we could place her in even greater danger than she is in already. If Rothas doesn’t go to the office, and we don’t know that he will, then the best thing is to let Kyrin sneak out as planned without raising any suspicion. Now, if something does happen, you both know we will do whatever we must to protect her. That’s why we’re here, but right now, we have to trust Elôm to take care of her.”

  Sweat rolled down near Kyrin’s eye. She brushed it away and breathed out hard. Frustration and panic threatened to make her careless. She shook her head, fighting them back.

  “There’s nothing here. Nothing about Samara.” In every document she skimmed, she hadn’t found the country named once.

  She pushed the last drawer of one of the cabinets closed and rose from her knees to face Aaron. He looked around the room. Though he appeared much calmer than she was, his eyes gave away a little of his own frustration. They were risking everything for this. How could she return to the others empty-handed?

  Kyrin put her hands out helplessly. “What if Rothas isn’t helping Daican plan a war?”

  After all, she had come across several missives from the emperor, but none of any real importance that she could tell from a quick scan of the contents. But then why had Rothas left the table last night if the message hadn’t been urgent?

  Aaron shook his head. “I have a hard time believing that if he’s such a brilliant strategist.”

  Kyrin agreed, but what could they do? She had searched everywhere. She cast her gaze about the office. Had she missed something obvious? If this is Your will, Lord, guide us.

  Neither of them said anything for a long minute.

  “We should go,” Kyrin murmured at last. She hadn’t kept track of the time, but she had a sickening feeling in her stomach that they had tarried too long.

  She turned to retrieve the candle, and her gaze snagged on the bookshelf along the wall. A dark leather spine stuck out a little farther than the rest. An inexplicable sense drew her to it. With the candle in one hand, she walked closer and pulled the book out. When it came free, she found it was not a book at all, but a thick leather satchel. Her heart fluttered. She carried it to the desk, unbound the tie, and flipped it open to reveal a collection of parchments. Daican’s royal seal jumped out at her. She traded a glance with Aaron as she lifted the parchment to skim it, immediately picking out the name Samara.

  “This is it!” Elôm, thank You!

  She took a more careful look at the top letter to commit it to memory before laying it aside to scan the next one. Systematically, she worked through each one, picking up bits and pieces without taking time to read the whole thing. Then she came to one with phrases and details that sent a prickling cold along her skin.

  “Here, read this.” She handed it to Aaron. “It looks like a lot of information we want to know.”

  As he read, Kyrin worked through the remaining documents.

  Near the end, Aaron gave a low whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely planning—”

  His head jerked around to the door, and Kyrin froze, her breath caught in her lungs. Then his wide eyes darted to her. “Someone’s coming!”

  Kyrin’s heart sped back into motion—a wild, crashing beat. She grabbed the letter from Aaron, tucking it into place. She scrambled to arrange the letters the way she had found them, but her fingers trembled so much they kept slipping. Slapping the leather cover shut, she fumbled with the tie. Please, Lord, help!

  Aaron took over in an instant, tying the knot and putting it into her hands. His calm, decisive expression helped her think clearly. She rushed to the shelf and shoved the satchel into its place, forcing herself to make sure everything was perfect. By this time, faint but steady footsteps echoed in her ears.

  The room went dark. Kyrin turned as Aaron stepped out the window. Her blood flushed cold. Where would she go? She would never get out unseen. Her eyes searched the darkness for a place to hide.

  “Come on.”

  Aaron’s whisper brought her darting gaze back to the window. He motioned to her. Her heart tripped. He wanted her to go out there? But she couldn’t climb! She was not crete or even half-crete.

  The footsteps neared, threatening to stall her heart again. There was no time. She dashed to the window and peered out. Just below, a narrow ledge ran under the window leading off in both directions around the manor. A knot formed in her throat. The ledge was barely more than two handbreadths. Her feet fused to the floor.

  “It’s all right,” Aaron’s voice was calm despite the situation.

  She looked into his reassuring eyes. He offered his hand. The footsteps reached the door.

  Kyrin grabbed Aaron’s hand and stepped over the sill. He drew her toward him. Gasping in a breath, she pressed herself against the rough stone beside the window. Aaron put his arm around her, holding her securely back against the manor. She squeezed her eyes shut, terrified to look down. For a fraction of a second, she realized this must be the same terror Jace experienced when it came to heights.

  The door opened, and heavy footsteps entered the room. Kyrin hardly dared to breathe. Please, Elôm, the words repeated as a desperate cry in her heart.

  Rothas’s desk chair scraped the floor and creaked as it took the man’s weight. What if he was there for hours? Kyrin gulped. She would fall before being able to wait him out!

  The door opened again and a second pair of footsteps crossed the room.

  “Are you prepared?” Rothas’s low, menacing voice came from right inside.

  After a bri
ef pause came James’s response. “I’ll go find her when things get quiet.”

  “You’re sure she will do as she’s told?”

  “Oh, she knows better than to defy me.”

  A chill tingled Kyrin’s skin that had nothing to do with the night air.

  Rothas’s chair creaked again. Kyrin could just imagine his ruthless expression.

  “Good.”

  The chair scraped back. Papers shuffled. “I’m going to bed. I trust you will have things under control.”

  James released a short, cruel chuckle, and they both walked out. The door closed and the room grew dark again.

  Kyrin didn’t move—not a muscle—as she listened to the deafening drum of her heart. A minute or two passed. Then, Aaron shifted.

  “I think we can go in.”

  Kyrin’s eyelids wouldn’t budge at first, but she pried them open, careful not to look down. Aaron gripped her hand again like a lifeline, and she reached for the windowsill with her other. Holding to it with a death grip, she shuffled along the edge. When she stepped into the security of the office, her legs nearly buckled. She braced herself against the desk as Aaron came in after her.

  “Are you all right?”

  Kyrin only nodded, her voice trapped in her throat. She never wanted to do this again.

  “Is there anything else you need to see here?”

  Kyrin shook her head, forcing a winded, “No.” All she wanted was to get out.

  “All right; I’d better head back the way I came. Will you be all right?”

  Kyrin drew a deep breath into her depleted lungs. “Yes.” She turned to the door, her legs still wobbly, but glanced back. “Aaron… thanks.”