The King's Scrolls Page 7
Jace looked away, his mouth dry. He swallowed several times before the moisture returned enough for him to ask Talas, “Aren’t you afraid of falling out during the night?” He wouldn’t get a moment’s rest if he had to sleep that way.
Talas glanced at his cousin and shook his head. “We’ve been around heights since infancy. Our cities in Dorland are built a couple hundred feet off the ground in trees that can reach four hundred feet sometimes. The only way to get from place to place is by dragon or bridge. It’s the crete way of life.”
Jace’s heart sputtered, and his palms grew damp. He gasped a silent prayer never to have a reason to visit a crete city. He’d be paralyzed from the moment he arrived.
“Well,” Talas said, pushing to his feet, “it may not be late for me, but it is for you. Tomorrow will be a busy day, so I’ll let you get some sleep. Again, thank you for your hospitality.”
With echoing goodnights, he walked away and everyone rose to stretch their legs and head off to their sleeping quarters. On her way, Kyrin smiled at Jace.
“Good night,” she told him. Her voice lowered. “Sleep well. Everything will be all right.”
He wished he could believe her as he murmured “good night”. With a sigh, he watched her walk away and disappear into her cabin. Then he looked toward his own shelter and winced. He’d never sleep tonight. Not even caring to try, he walked over to the dragons to check on Gem. Tyra followed, no longer hesitant. When they reached her, the dragon and deer were exactly where he’d left them. Another wave of disappointment doused his dwindling hope. He was failing at everything today.
At the sound of footsteps, he looked over his shoulder. Talas was on his way past, with his hammock tucked under his arm. He paused, his green eyes glittering in the starlight.
“If you do get her to eat that, I’ll be impressed.” He smiled and walked on.
Jace turned back to Gem and knelt down near her head. He ran his hand along the back of her long neck.
“How am I going to get you to eat?” he whispered, shaking his head. He’d run out of ideas.
He stayed at her side a few minutes more, until a frosty gust of wind creaked in the trees and sent a chill through his body. Pulling his coat close, he rose and turned toward the shelter. He might not sleep, but at least he would be warm. That’s when Gem raised her head for the first time all day. It wasn’t much, but her wide eyes opened fully, glinting like her namesake as she peered up at him. He’d been around animals enough to understand that look—a pleading look. She didn’t want him to go.
Jace glanced at the shelter, then back down at her. “All right, I’ll stay a while longer.”
He moved down to sit near her foreleg again, where her scales would offer some warmth against the cold and shield him from the breeze. He’d only just settled in when Gem shifted, rustling the leaves and dried grass as she lifted her wing just enough to create a small, tent-like space next to her body. Jace looked at it and then caught her staring at him. His brows dipped, and she continued to stare. He glanced at her wing again. Did she want him to crawl under it?
Her incessant stare finally prompted him to move. What did he have to lose? Crawling past her foreleg, he ducked under her wing. Putting his hand out to steady himself, he found her belly scales as warm as rocks that had sat near a fire. He sat down, his back against them, and the heat quickly seeped through his clothing and warmed him all over. He motioned to Tyra, who crawled in with him, and Gem nestled her wing around them like a warm cocoon. Resting his head on Gem, a little smile came to Jace’s face. Maybe things weren’t so hopeless with the dragon after all.
Darkness cloaked the room, but for the slices of warm light peeking through the cracks in the door. Timothy hurried to tug on his shirt and block the cold their thin walls couldn’t completely ward off. He then slipped out of the bedroom, letting in as little light as possible. In the main room, his eyes landed first on Josan’s empty bed and then found the crete in a chair near the fire.
“Good morning,” Josan’s low voice greeted.
Timothy echoed him and stepped to the table, where two small candles illuminated the satchel of scrolls. He reached for one and set a chair at the fireplace opposite Josan.
“Is Aaron still asleep?”
Timothy nodded as he took his seat. “I know he wants an early start, but this is the only day he can sleep in a little. I’ll wake him in a while.” Aaron had returned home from work last night especially exhausted after spending the whole day helping the other miners try to clear the rubble from the cave-in. He’d barely managed to eat his supper before heading straight to bed.
“It’s the only day you have to sleep in too.”
Timothy shrugged and held up the scroll. “I’d rather read.” A couple of hours of extra sleep wouldn’t make much difference anyway. Not like reading the Scrolls would.
Josan gave him a warm smile that reminded Timothy of his father and left a comforting affirmation in his heart. One of the things he missed most was the encouragement his father was always so quick to give. He rolled open the scroll in his lap and found where he’d left off reading the night before. After a while, he came to a familiar passage that he turned to often. Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable. He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.
He sighed as the words filtered through his mind. They had been a rock to him in the last years, with exhaustion dogging every waking moment. It was as if the very town itself was built on weariness that only seemed to grow stronger. He saw it in the faces of their neighbors—especially those who secretly shared his faith. Something dark and sinister was sweeping across their land, adding to the heaviness of their burdens. People were scared. Timothy had witnessed this firsthand while delivering the letters the night before. Two families, who normally accepted them with gladness, had turned him away and refused to take any more. He couldn’t blame them, but it hurt to see their faith shaken by fear. Give us all renewed strength, Lord.
“Is there something you want to talk about?”
Snapping from his wandering thoughts, Timothy blinked and settled his eyes on Josan. “I was just thinking about last night. With all the news of arrests and executions in Valcré, I’m afraid that, soon, no one will accept the letters. I want to encourage them not to give in to their fear, but it’s difficult when I know as well as they do that we could all be killed for it.”
The conflict constantly warred inside of him. He desired to live his faith boldly and empower others to do so as well but, at the same time, he struggled against his repulsion at the thought of lost lives. While he wouldn’t hesitate to die for his faith, the prospect of others perishing ripped at his soul.
Josan’s face softened in compassion. “Unfortunately, we live in a time where we may be forced to choose between denying our faith or dying for it. Elôm knows I’ve spent my entire life praying it wouldn’t come to this, but it has. We can’t change that. But we can continue to encourage those around us, and use every opportunity to point to Him. It may come to a time where only one or two will listen, but you know Elôm wants us to press on, even with just those one or two.”
Latching on to these words, Timothy felt not only a renewed sense of purpose, but also the renewed strength he sought. He smiled at Josan as he thanked Elôm for the blessing of a wise mentor.
Door hinges creaked, and Timothy looked over his shoulder. Aaron stepped into the room, shoving his arms into his jerkin.
“What’re you trying to do, make me lazy?” he asked as he adjusted the collar and worked on the buckles.
Timothy and Josan traded a quick smile.
“I wasn’t going
to leave you for too long,” he assured his brother as he rose to put the scroll away and return his chair to the table.
Josan reached for his crutches and pushed himself up. “I have breakfast and lunch made for you.” He nodded to two small wrapped bundles and a cloth-covered plate.
Aaron lifted the cloth to uncover two pale biscuits and small wedges of cheese. “Thanks, Josan.” He looked across at Timothy. “We’ll have breakfast on the way. We need to get to the high country if we’re going to see anything, and that’ll take a couple of hours.”
Timothy went to the door, where he pulled on his coat and boots. Aaron strapped on his bow and a full quiver of arrows. After packing their lunches into their bags and filling their waterskins, they each picked up a biscuit and cheese wedge.
“We’ll probably be late,” Aaron told Josan at the door. “Don’t wait on us for supper.”
Josan nodded, and Aaron pulled the door open. Timothy shivered at the icy dawn breeze as they stepped out. He glanced at the clear sky. It was no longer the black of night, but a deep blue. Lights already twinkled across town as the inhabitants set about another grueling day. He and Aaron turned and set out to the south, the scraping of rocks underfoot ringing out in the frozen air.
“I’ll be praying for a successful day,” Josan called after them.
Timothy raised his hand in a wave of thanks.
Josan watched them from the door until they were well on their way down the valley. He breathed out a sigh that lingered as a white cloud in the air. He wished for all the world that he could give them better than this. Often times, he thought of taking them to Dorland, to his people. They would be safe there, and comfortable. But those forests lay a long, long way from this valley. With barely enough money to live on, and his handicap… He shook his head.
Yet, that wasn’t what kept them here. Not really. He would have moved them out in a heartbeat if he truly believed it was Elôm’s will for them. After years of pleading prayers, he had not yet received ‘yes’ for an answer. For some reason beyond his understanding, Elôm wanted them here, and though only Aaron knew of this, he believed it was because of Timothy. Elôm had a plan for him—he was sure of it. So, for better or for worse, they remained and waited. Like Aaron, he was willing to sacrifice anything—his comfort, his other leg, even his own life—to help Timothy succeed.
The two young men finally faded from his sight, and his eyes drifted to the dreary sight of town. Of all the places and ways Timothy could have grown up. He could have lived in a city and received formal teaching. His father could have had a safer, less demanding job that wouldn’t have cut short his life. He had been such a wonderful father, guiding young Timothy in his ever-growing faith. Even living among the cretes, who normally didn’t have time for books, would have presented Timothy with more opportunities. But he was here, in this mean, dirty town, where he was constantly strained to his limits just to help bring food to the table and still have time to spend in Elôm’s Word—something he craved even more than his body craved rest and nourishment. Why is this, Lord?
But Josan knew better than most that Elôm operated in ways no soul of Ilyon could hope to understand, and he trusted his Lord’s promise that it would come to good in the end.
Jace was warm. Too warm, actually, and wedged in between two immovable objects. How had he gotten into such a predicament? Sleep still clouded his mind, but then it all cleared. His eyes blinked open. Pale sunlight shone through the underside of Gem’s wing. He raised his head. The dragon had wrapped her own head around under her wing and cradled both him and Tyra between her neck and body. He didn’t even remember her doing it. How deeply had he slept? He hadn’t expected any sleep last night, considering his turmoil.
When he shifted to relieve his cramped muscles, Gem’s eyes popped open. Lifting her head, she looked at him a moment, then pulled her neck away and lifted her wing to let him out. Tyra rose and trotted out first. Jace pushed to his feet and ducked out after her. Chilly and invigorating morning air washed over him as he stretched the kinks out of his back and shoulders.
Beside him, Gem arched her back and stretched out her wings. She peered at him, her eyes alert and vibrant. Then something caught her attention. She stepped forward and sunk her claws into the deer that still lay there. Lowering her head, she tore a massive bite off its hindquarters and gulped it down. Jace’s mouth dropped open. One corner lifted in a smile as she devoured the deer piece by piece. Joy like he’d rarely known filled his heart and a whispered, “Thank You,” passed his lips. It wasn’t often he felt that a prayer of his had been answered.
“Well, I am impressed.”
Jace spun around.
Talas stood behind him, wearing a look of true admiration that grew into a grin. “You have a gift.”
Jace shrugged. He’d only shown Gem concern. It wasn’t as if he’d actually done anything. He glanced past Talas and caught sight of Leetra. Her expression lifted in what he believed to be surprise. However, she quickly erased all hint of it. He didn’t need her approval, anyway.
Gem finished the deer and brought her nose around to whiffle the hair at the back of his head with her hot breath. He looked back and rubbed her chin. After a little purr, she began making other cat-like noises that seemed much too dainty and sweet for such a large, fearsome creature.
“There’s no doubt about it,” Talas said with a chuckle. “Whether you like it or not, Gem has adopted you as her new rider. You’d have to kill her to get rid of her.”
Jace shook his head. “I’d never want to do that.”
As if showing her appreciation, Gem rested her chin heavily on his shoulder, which nearly tipped him off balance.
Talas laughed again. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy her. She was always an affectionate one.”
Jace reached up to pat Gem’s cheek. The dragon then lifted her head to gaze curiously toward the cabins. Jace turned to find Kyrin walking toward them.
She smiled brightly. “Looks like you and Tyra have a new best friend.”
“I guess so,” he responded. As she drew closer, he said, “Gem, ámi.”
The dragon chirped and lowered her head to examine Kyrin, who rubbed her chin, eliciting a purr. Kyrin giggled. “She’s a sweetie.”
“This is why we tried so hard with her,” Talas told them. “We knew what a shame it would be to lose her.” He looked over his shoulder at the other dragons. “I guess this means we’ll have to find a new rider for Shalmar. I’ll have to discuss it with Trask.”
Good thing Jace hadn’t tried to bond with her. He certainly didn’t need two dragons to care for. Though he didn’t know exactly what that care would entail yet, the way Gem had gulped down a whole deer in less than five minutes had him imagining hunting trips devoted solely to feeding the creatures.
Kyrin nodded to Talas, saying, “You can talk to him over breakfast. I came to let you know Lenae has it just about ready.”
Talas rubbed his stomach. “I look forward to it after the meal last night.”
“She’s an amazing cook,” Kyrin agreed.
Drawn by the promise of good food, Talas headed down toward the fire. Kyrin lingered behind with Jace. Stroking Gem’s neck, she looked up at him. “Are you going to have breakfast?”
He hadn’t given it much consideration yet this morning, but thoughts of flying rushed into his mind, and his stomach promptly tied in a knot. “I don’t think so.”
“Me neither,” Kyrin said sympathetically. “My stomach’s been doing somersaults all morning.”
He stared into her eyes, trying to read the thoughts behind them and decipher whether or not she said it only for his benefit, but he lacked her acute observation skills. She appeared entirely serious.
“I still don’t know if I can do it,” he confessed.
A little frown crinkled her forehead. “Have you always been afraid of heights?”
Jace nodded and dropped his eyes. Where was his courage? How could it have so completely abandoned him?
Jace winced, and a chill rippled through his body at the vague, yet gripping, memories stored deep inside him. “I don’t remember it exactly. I was only five, at the most. I fell in a pit—an old well, maybe. I can’t remember how, or who got me out, or if I was hurt. I only remember falling.” Even now, the memory of it turned his mouth to cotton and made his palms damp.
“I see,” Kyrin murmured. “It’s hard to overcome things like that, especially when it happens as children.” She smiled sympathetically. “There’s a cave near my house back home. My brothers used to play there all the time, but once they scared me so badly that I still don’t like caves.”
The understanding and kindness in her expression couldn’t help but relieve some of his fear. It forced him to remember that he wouldn’t be around to protect her on the mission if he didn’t go through with this. In the end, that fear had to trump his fear of heights. He focused for a moment on Gem before his eyes rested back on Kyrin.
“Your brothers were mean to you.”
A lovely little chuckle bubbled from Kyrin. “They’re brothers. That’s what they do. But they always make up for it.” Resting her hand on his arm, she nodded to where the others had gathered for breakfast. “Come on. We don’t have to eat, but I’m curious who will get Shalmar.”
The time had come. Either he had to face his fear or admit defeat in front of the whole group. Jace’s insides squeezed as if his stomach were going to cave in on itself as everyone, including Warin, who now owned Shalmar, gathered at the dragons. He focused on calming himself and controlling his pulse. Though he maintained an appearance of attentiveness while Talas instructed him on how to saddle Gem, the words didn’t quite penetrate. His own admonishments and misgivings warred too loudly in his head. While every nerve in his body screamed for surrender, his sense of duty and need to protect Kyrin kept him from fleeing.