Emberhawk - Jamie Foley Page 0,13

only had a couple of bites. I’ll get some stew—”

“That’s enough.” Tekkyn’s stern look was more like their father’s than the brother she remembered.

Kira frowned. “You promised you wouldn’t become like them.”

Tekkyn winced and his eyes darkened. “Trust me, Kira. You need to go.”

“Fine.” She dumped the rest of the cheese on the table and cleaned her blade with the cloth. She opened the barn door and charged right into a tabard and clinking chain mail.

Kira stumbled back and sputtered an apology to the soldier—thank the stars it didn’t look like the lieutenant.

“No worries,” the young soldier said with a smile. He stepped aside so she could pass. “Tekkyn, let me swap with you so you can eat with your family.”

“She just brought me some food,” Kira heard Tekkyn say as she scurried down the path. “I can guard him for a few hours at least . . .”

Betrayal knifed into her like a rusty blade. He wouldn’t even eat with them when he had the opportunity?

Tears blurred her vision, rendering Kira nearly blind in the darkness. If only Dad were home, he could stop Tekkyn from turning into one of the Empire’s pawns. Their father had resisted it for years, even as he climbed the ranks and became an officer.

But then again, it seemed like Dad wasn’t big on spending time at home, either.

8

RYON

Ryon cursed under his breath. As savory as Kira’s offering had been, the delay would cost them unless Tekkyn could get rid of this uppity Malaano soldier.

“Come on, man, I insist. How long’s it been since you’ve been home? A year? Two?” The newcomer moved to the table and popped the last bite of Kira’s cheese into his mouth. “Don’t pretend you want to spend the night in a barn after you’ve been moaning and whining about going home every five minutes.”

“Don’t pretend you suddenly care.” Tekkyn hooked his thumbs around his belt. “I’ve waited this long; I can wait a couple more hours.”

The other soldier raised an eyebrow and munched on rice cake crumbs. He didn’t budge.

Ryon fought to keep his face smooth and to not look up at the rope. He’d used his element to burn through the threads just in front of where the rope met the rafters. Even though Kira had broken his concentration, the frayed, glowing ends had to be smoldering through the remainder. One solid yank should do it.

Tekkyn sighed. “You don’t speak Phoeran, right?”

“Um, no. That’s what you’re for.” The other soldier already looked bored. “Why?”

“I’ve been questioning him.” Tekkyn turned to face Ryon and began speaking in Phoeran: “This is your only chance. Don’t kill him.” His face was etched with worry. “Can you do it?”

Ryon remained silent. He hadn’t said anything to Sa’alu—if the other soldier heard him respond to Tekkyn, it could raise suspicion.

He didn’t nod, either, but hoped his set jaw and determined look would speak for him.

Lines of tension eased from Tekkyn’s expression. He sighed and turned. “Yeah, the inquisitors have their work cut out for them,” he said in Malaano as he strode to the door. He passed his comrade and turned back in the doorway. “Thanks. I owe you.”

The other soldier pushed off the table to face Tekkyn and waved him away, leaving his back exposed to Ryon. “Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.”

He said something about beef stew as Ryon glanced at the carpenter’s tools hanging on the wall. A chisel, saw, rusty pliers . . . and a wooden mallet that might render a man unconscious without cracking his skull. Hopefully.

Creator, make me swift.

Ryon curled his right hand around the rope that bound his wrists and yanked down. It fell easier than he’d thought, but by the time it thudded to the dirt floor behind him, he was already moving. The soldier had only turned half-way around before the broad side of the mallet slammed into his head. He crumpled into a clattering heap of armor.

Tekkyn looked up at Ryon with wide eyes, then slowly slid the door shut behind him. He pulled metal cuffs from his belt and tossed them to the dust. “It has to look real.”

Ryon adjusted his grip on the mallet, grateful for the pain-numbing herb that dulled the screaming in his left shoulder. “Thank you.”

Tekkyn knelt and bowed his head.

Ryon swung and connected, sending Tekkyn into an awkward position in the dirt beside his comrade. He didn’t move.

Ryon breathed through the pain and admired the mallet. I ought to get me one of these.

He spun