“Do not fear,” Aelos said. “King Elôm holds your life secure.”
Jace let out a slow breath, willing his pulse to regulate as the guards surrounded them. They marched forward, out of the courtyard. Jace trusted Elôm, but he did wonder what lay at the end of this. Was it simply an escort out of the city? It seemed like a lot for one man, and where was Elon? He scanned the streets and the buildings overlooking them. Kyrin and her father came to mind again. Both had walked this path, and one had died. Their bravery awed him. How desperately he wanted to see Kyrin’s face again.
The rustle and murmur of people reached Jace’s ears even before the crowded square came into view. He sucked in his breath. Kyrin had described such a scene, but it was even more disturbing than anything his imagination could conjure. How could so many thousands of people be so eager to see death and pain or whatever else the emperor had planned? Even the largest crowds he had seen as a gladiator didn’t compare to this.
The crowd parted just enough to let them pass through to the platform rising ahead. Taking in the sight of it put his heart in his throat. He believed what Aelos had said, but so many people had died here. It left him cold.
They neared the base of the platform, and Jace looked up. Standing between several guards was the emperor. Davira stood there as well, with whom appeared to be her mother and brother. The emperor must have something big planned to include the royal family. Jace couldn’t stop the twisting in his gut.
Aelos and Riyel remained at his side as Jace climbed the platform, where Daican gave him an evilly satisfied look. Jace shivered at the intensity of it and the chilling sense that the emperor was merely a pawn maneuvered by a supremely evil force. He looked away, unable to hold the unnerving gaze.
One of the guards took hold of his arm now, drawing him to the front and center of the platform to face the many thousands of staring eyes. He swallowed, his mouth going dry, and glanced over his shoulder. Aelos and Riyel stood only a couple of feet behind him, their faces hard-set. Though they possessed no visible weapons, Jace had the distinct feeling that they wouldn’t need any if they had reason to step in and defend him.
His gaze swung around as Daican stepped past him, his focus on the crowd.
“Citizens of Arcacia.”
The square went quiet—so quiet that Jace could hear his heart.
“Do you know what we have here?” The emperor gestured to Jace, his voice loud and carrying. “A half ryrik.”
Gasps and exclamations of revulsion trickled through the crowd, followed by hisses and hateful jeers.
“A half-blood monster of the vilest descent,” Daican continued hatefully.
Jace breathed steadily. How incredible to find how such words had lost their sting now that he was fully shielded by the truth. Elôm loved him, and that was all that mattered now. Whatever people said meant nothing.
“Not only that, but a rebel, bent on destroying our way of life!”
Daican had the crowd fired up now, their faces scowling and grumbling.
“Is not death a fitting punishment for such a pitiless, loathsome creature?”
The crowd responded with a resounding, “Yes!” that vibrated in the wood under Jace’s feet.
“And who here would come forward to save him?”
This question drew a chorus of sharp, grating laughter. Somewhere nearby, a man shouted, “No one! Kill him!” and the others echoed the words.
Jace was nothing to them. Worse than nothing. This had once cut so deeply but, with Elôm’s help, it never would again if he made it off this platform.
“Yet, there is One who has chosen to ransom his life,” Daican announced, causing a reaction of confusion and disbelief among the people. “Behold, the so-called Savior of Ilyon.”
Daican swept his arm back, and Jace’s gaze followed, locking on Elon as two guards led Him forward. The sight socked the air from Jace’s lungs and left him weak. Elon’s badly bruised and bloodied face blurred as tears poured into Jace’s eyes. How could Daican have done this to Him? Why had He let them?
The guards dragged Elon to the front with Jace and Daican. Jace clearly heard His heavy, difficult breathing, but the reaction from the crowd then drowned it out. Vicious, mocking jeers and insults rose up around them, starting a fire in Jace’s blood. Shaking, he glared out at them. How dare they? They should be on their knees in reverence, yet they stood in mockery. Could they not see? Jace wanted to scream at them, but his voice locked in his throat. How could they be such fools?
“It is said He came to overthrow us and rule Himself,” Daican said. Boos and shouts of opposition rose from the people, and Jace ground his teeth at such lies. “But look at Him now! Does He look like a conqueror?”
A tear slipped down Jace’s cheek as a raucous wave of laughter filled his ears. He couldn’t take it. Why didn’t Elon do something? But He just stood there, taking it all without a word.
“No,” Daican said. “Instead, He has traded His life for this animal’s.”
His finger pointed at Jace, and ice shot through Jace’s heart. It was exactly what he had feared.
“No,” he gasped. Elon couldn’t die in his place. He wasn’t worthy of such a sacrifice.
But Elon looked him in the eyes, and Jace saw the love—love so great and powerful it took his breath away as it filled him. Then Elon looked out at the crowd, facing their ridicule. Instead of a look that condemned their mockery and disbelief, the love remained; saddened, but strong and constant.
The glint of metal jerked Jace’s gaze to the long, thin dagger Daican had just pulled from its sheath. Only now did it register that the crowd chanted for death. The emperor faced Elon, murder in his eyes. Elon stood silently, His battered face never once hinting at hatred or anger. As the emperor drew near, Jace stepped forward. He had to stop this. But Aelos and Riyel’s strong hands gripped him by the arms and held him back.
Jace’s heart screamed in protest, but it never made it to his lips. His eyes locked on Elon, and his breaths came shallow and fast. Surely, Elon would stop this. He had forced Richard back with a mere word. Jace had heard the power and authority in His voice. He could heal Himself, break the chains that bound Him, demand the worship of every person standing here—
Daican’s blade sank into Elon’s chest, turning every thought into a numbing haze. Pain of disbelief erupted in Jace’s own heart. He couldn’t feel anything but the horror of the scene that seemed frozen before him. This couldn’t be.
Daican’s dagger slid back out, dripping scarlet. Elon sank slowly to His knees, and Jace watched deep red blood seep down the front of His white shirt just like the blood of the sacrificial lambs.
Jace stood paralyzed. He couldn’t draw his eyes away from Elon’s still body and the pool of blood seeping across the platform. Blood so fresh, so vivid, reflecting the clear sky overhead. Blood that moments ago sustained life now spilled out in front of him. How could this be?
Like waking from a dream, the murmur of the crowd registered slowly. Jace looked up, first seeing Daican and the still-dripping dagger. When his gaze rose farther, it met with the amber-eyed Prince Daniel across from him. They stared at each other, eyes wide, faces slack, sharing the shock of what they had just witnessed.
Aelos and Riyel still held Jace’s arms. He took a halting step as they guided him away from the scene, and then followed numbly. No coherent thoughts would form. He only kept seeing the same things in his mind—the dagger, the blood, Elon’s last breath.
At the bottom of the steps, they met the crowd. All the people who had not only stood and watched Elon die, but had screamed for it. Even now, their hatred wasn’t quenched. They glared and sneered at him. Some even reached out to grab him, but as Aelos and Riyel led him through their midst it was as if an invisible shield surrounded them. A crowd this size would have overwhelmed them in a moment, yet no one could get close enough. Many of them tried though. Like feral animals, they reached and shouted, but there was no mistaking the love in Elon’s eyes
when He had looked out at them. How were they so blind? But then, how long had it taken Jace to see? Only on the verge of death and hearing it straight from Elon’s lips had he finally understood.
He hung his head, his eyes burning as regret stung his heart. “I’m sorry.”
When at last they broke free of the crowd, Aelos and Riyel hurried him northward through the city. The buildings passed in a blur, and before he knew it they’d arrived outside the city wall, where they stopped. Jace bent over panting, and braced himself against his knees. Sweat rolled down his back, but a chill encased him. Away from the crowd now, it all sank in. Dizziness and nausea overwhelmed him, and his stomach retched and emptied. Taking a few wobbly steps, he sank down by the side of the road and held his throbbing head in his hands.
All was silent but for his heavy breaths that slowly regulated. Finally, he looked up at Aelos and Riyel’s tense and solemn faces. Aelos reached down and helped him up.
“Your friends are waiting for you just up the mountain. Go to them now, but do not let them remain here tonight. Find a safer place and then journey quickly back to Samara.”
Jace nodded numbly, incapable of any other response. Turning, he stared into the forest that led up the mountainside. He’d been this way before. He started walking, but then looked back. Aelos and Riyel had vanished.
Trudging on, Jace made his way steadily upward, both longing and reluctant. This was the second time he had made this trek carrying news of a loved one’s death. The memories of having to take such news back to Kyrin made him cold again. But the thought of her also drew him forward. At each step, his heart beat a little faster. Then came the faint murmur of voices ahead, and his anticipation heightened.
Breaking through the obstruction of trees, he stopped, his eyes drinking in the sight of them. Though they had been parted for only a few days, the intensity of his feelings made it seem more like a lifetime. Love filled him, deeper and more yearning than he had ever experienced. The walls were gone. Walls that had held him back, even from Kyrin and Rayad.
“Jace!”
Kyrin’s voice soothed his heart. She jumped up and ran to him. Already his throat thickened. She slowed as she came near, her eyes wide. He hadn’t thought until now how much blood covered him. By all appearances, he should be dead. He drew her into his arms, needing the connection to her. She held him lightly at first, but then her embrace tightened. Overcome, tears worked their way again to Jace’s eyes and rolled down his face. He shouldn’t be here right now—shouldn’t be alive—but he was, thanks to Elon’s sacrifice that was beyond understanding. He breathed hard, his chest aching with the emotion of it.
Kyrin stepped back and looked up into his face. “You’re crying,” she gasped. Her gaze dropped to the blood on his shirt and her voice trembled. “You’re hurt.”
“No.” She met his gaze again, and Jace said, “He healed me.”
The tears continued to fall, because those words meant so much more than physical healing. Kyrin’s eyes registered understanding, and filled with her own tears.
“He told you,” she whispered.
Jace nodded, and they hugged again, both crying silently. When they parted, Jace’s gaze rested on Rayad and the nearly-overflowing moisture in the man’s eyes. Only now did he fully realize just how much this man meant to him. He stepped away from Kyrin and into Rayad’s arms, embracing him.
“Oh, Jace, thank the King you’re safe,” Rayad said hoarsely.
Jace breathed out hard. Only because of Elôm and His Son was he standing here.
The others—Holden, Timothy, and Aaron—gathered around them, all expressing their joy to have Jace back. Holden took his arm firmly, but then pulled him into an embrace. Jace smiled. What joy to fully know and feel the bond of true friendship.
Before anything more was said, Gem forced her way through the gathering with a high trill. The dragon pressed her head against his chest so enthusiastically that she almost knocked him to the ground. A laugh escaped him, and he rubbed her neck.
“I know, I’m sorry,” he murmured. He never should have left her behind when he had gone into that forest. Things would have turned out far differently if he hadn’t. And yet… would things have been better that way? Deep inside, he understood that this was just as it needed to be.
The group drew him into the middle of camp, all with curious expressions. Stopping near their small fire, Timothy asked, “Where is Elon?”
Jace sobered, his throat tightening again. How did he tell them? How did he explain what he had witnessed? It replayed in his mind, bringing fresh tears, and he surely had an abundance of them after all these years. He tried to speak, but his voice failed him. Everyone’s faces paled as understanding dawned, but no one said a word until Jace murmured, “He traded His life for mine.”
No one seemed to breathe for a long moment.
“You mean He’s . . .” Timothy swallowed. “The emperor already . . .”
Jace nodded, wiping at the tear streaks down his face. “Less than an hour ago.”
Everyone looked at each other in stunned silence, and tears streamed down Kyrin’s cheeks.
“But He said everything would be all right,” she said. “He told us to wait here. We could have stopped it.”
“It doesn’t make sense.” Timothy shook his head, a look of devastation in his eyes.
“It does,” Jace murmured, and they looked at him. Though it was more than he could hope to understand, he had felt something on that platform. Something life-altering, history-altering. Elon had died for Jace personally, but Jace sensed something greater and farther reaching. He had stood beside Him, his life bought by Elon’s, but when Elon had looked out at the crowd, it was as if every one of them could be standing there, not only Jace.
He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out rough. “He was the ultimate Lamb sacrifice.”
The magnitude of this truth left them all in silence. Slowly, Timothy sank down, overcome by it. After a minute or two, he nodded.
“You’re right,” he breathed.
And again, they were quiet, processing the fact that the final sacrifice they had looked ahead to was not some animal, but the life and blood of Elôm’s Son. He had sacrificed Himself for them. Not one of them had a dry eye as this sank in.
Her voice wavering, Kyrin asked, “Now what will we do without Him?”
No one had an answer, but it left a heavy feeling hovering over them. What of Samara and all the people who had looked to Elon to save them from Arcacia’s invasion?
For several minutes no one moved, but then Rayad put his hand on Jace’s shoulder. In a husky voice, he said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
They walked over to the supplies, where Jace’s pack lay amidst the others. He grabbed it and stepped behind the dragons to change. Rayad stayed to assist him, and though Jace didn’t need it he did not turn him away.
Pulling off his bloodied shirt, Jace looked over his shoulder. The arrow wound was only a faint scar. He took a deep breath. The struggle to breathe at all still hung vividly in his mind, the phantom taste of blood stinging his throat. However, comforting warmth grew in his chest where Elon had touched and healed him. Tears stung his nose.
Once cleaned of blood and freshly clothed, Jace followed Rayad back to the fire, where everyone looked at him with the desire to know what had happened. Starting with the night in Feldmor Forest, he recounted the journey to Valcré and the night in the dungeon. Kyrin cried, and he cried. It felt so strange, yet cleansing and freeing. He even caught Rayad brushing away a tear, and knew how much they all loved him despite any enemy’s claims.
Jace awoke to the breaking of dawn at their new mountain campsite several miles from Valcré. Lying still in his bedroll, he stared up at the clear sky. He didn’t believe he had ever experienced such a deep and restful sleep. He breathed in a long, fresh breath, his lungs freer than they had been his whole life. It was as if everything about him had changed. He felt… new.
But a
t such a great price. A price someone else had paid.
“Help me never to waste it, Elôm,” he prayed into the stillness.
The others stirred around him and soon rose to prepare breakfast and pack camp. As he saddled Gem, her contented purr rumbling in his ears, he looked off to the north and thought of Aelos’s urge to hasten back to Samara. He thought of the future they faced there. His personal fight had been won, but a battle still loomed. One they had hoped Elon would fight for them.
- Part Four -
Battle
Everything had changed as they approached Samara for the second time. The anxiousness Jace experienced now was nothing like the despair that had so heavily weighed him down. At last, he could see a purpose to his life that fear and lies had once hidden. That purpose now involved trying to save Samara. After all, the fate of everyone he cared so deeply for was tied to it.
Flying over the walls of Stonehelm, they beheld an impressive sight. Dozens of dragons dotted the fields outside the fortress, chirping and trilling as they glided down near the gate.
Jace was barely out of the saddle before he heard Kaden’s voice. He smiled as the young man rushed toward them. Directly behind Kaden came Marcus and Liam. Kyrin met each of her brothers with a crushing hug. The men then gathered around Jace to make sure he was all right. Talas appeared, along with Captain Darq and Leetra, all relieved to see them.
“When did you and the militia get here?” Kyrin asked her older brothers.
“Just after you left,” Marcus said. “If you’d been around for another couple of hours, we could have joined you.”