Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery

by Ethington, Rebecca

  “Better than expected” Ilyan said, his voice soft as he remained by the tub, his hands still stuck in the solid water. “Her magic is very responsive. She is so strong… so powerful… so…”

  It wasn’t often that Ilyan was without words, he even sounded choked up.

  “I never thought I would find her,” he finally finished.

  “We only searched for centuries.” Talon chuckled. “And here she is.”

  “She’s just as I expected. Just as I saw her.”

  I turned from my cleaning, it wasn’t often that Ilyan spoke of what that Drak had shown him regarding her. Everything I heard came second or third hand; at this point, she was more fable than anything.

  “So, the Drak were right?” I asked, something in that question was twisting my gut like the worst kind of guilt.

  “The Drak are always right, they are seers after all.” Ilyan spoke as though there were any left, but they had been extinct for centuries.

  “True. But if they were right, that would mean that she is—”

  “Going to save us all,” Ilyan finished for me, just as the water cracked and Joclyn floated to the surface, her dark hair floating around her like she was some kind of angel.

  I rushed forward, plunging my hand into the cool water to grip her wrist. I could still feel Ilyan’s magic there, the last of the centering magic fading away and leaving just hers behind.

  Waves and waves of powerful magic that almost pushed me back. “Man, she’s strong.”

  Ilyan nodded in agreement as he twisted his fingers over the surface of the water, moving her hair off her face.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like it.” I was supposed to be checking the Drevo, but feeling her power was distracting. “Like heat and chill and… ash…”

  That part didn’t make any sense to me, I’d never felt ash-like magic before. Neither had Talon with the weird look he was giving Ilyan.

  I had a feeling I was missing something, probably some boring discussion from their last high council meeting. Sometimes I was glad I missed those. Sometimes I hated being in the dark.

  This time I gave Talon a look, but he just shook me off with a nod of his head. If he thought he was getting away with that he had clearly forgotten who he was married to.

  “Did the Drevo work?” Ilyan asked and I forced my focus away from her magic and to her heart, my free hand clutching the necklace. Still warm. Still beating.

  “I have no way of knowing if it helped him, or just kept him alive, but the necklace is still warm.”

  “I will take that as a good sign.” Ilyan sounded as though a weight had lifted from him. “I just wish I knew more about what that necklace was doing.”

  “Or how he made it.” Talon had come up behind us, all of us staring at the necklace. “The only magic I know of that would keep a connection over such a long distance is a death promise.”

  I shivered. “You really don’t think that Ryland would bind his life to hers like that, do you? He had to know what his father was planning for him after all.”

  “That’s why it doesn’t make any sense.” Talon gave a shrug.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, my friend.” Ilyan tapped the necklace with his finger, pressing the same pad against the mark behind her ear before he began to dry his hands. “We know that they are sharing a Tȍuha, but I am beginning to question if that’s from a Zȇlství or if it is from the connection in the necklace.”

  “True. They haven’t completed a Zȇlství, so it can’t be that. But a death promise could prompt a Tȍuha. Or a soul bind,” I shrugged like it was nothing, but both men stood as though they had been zapped and were staring at me.

  “Why didn’t I think of it before?” Ilyan said in quick Czech before he began to rattle off something about protecting by never having. “You’re right, Wyn. It’s a soul bind. He’s put a piece of him in there. That would connect them. That would create the Tȍuha.”

  “And it would also give Edmund a direct connection to her.” The words booming from Talon’s voice made them much more ominous than they should be.

  “What was Ryland thinking?” Only a child would do something so desperate, which was exactly what Ryland was when it came down to it. Because, in a weird way, it was romantic.

  Or it would have been.

  “He was thinking he needed to protect the one thing he valued.” Ilyan sighed, back on his knees as he leaned over the tub. “He didn’t know who she really was.”

  “Okay, so do we take it from her?”

  “No,” Ilyan whispered, his fingers moving from her mark to the necklace again. “We teach her to bind it. We teach her to fight him. And when we get Ryland back, we return it to him.”

  Thirty-Nine

  Wyn

  “Use these for now,” Ilyan emerged from the mess of his closet with two articles of clothing and threw them on the bed with a flourish.

  I took one look at them and burst out laughing.

  “You want me to put her in your underwear?”

  Ilyan looked at me curiously, scratching his head as he looked at the button-up shirt and plaid boxers.

  “Those are not my underwear.”

  “Those are boxers.”

  “Yes, and I have never worn them.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him, everyone knew Ilyan had far too many clothes for his own good. But never worn boxers? His jaw hardened and he leaned in, his kingly irritation bleeding through again. “I am a boxer-brief kind of guy.”

  “Ew.”

  “Ilyan! Leave my wife alone!” Talon’s voice boomed from the bathroom I had charged the men with finishing to clean. Ilyan just laughed and turned away.

  “Those will work for tonight, tomorrow we will collect clothes for her to wear.”

  We should have done that tonight, but I didn’t usually wear pajamas and everyone else was asleep. So, here we were; with Ilyan’s underwear.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” I mumbled, turning to the bed and the soaked girl that lay there. Ilyan and I had mostly dried her, but she was still wrapped in a wet towel, completely unconscious thanks to the Drevo.

  Dressing an unconscious woman was much harder the second time. Possibly because I hadn’t slept much in the last few days and was even more exhausted from using the Drevo. She seemed even more rag dollish, if possible. With the way her head and joints were moving I was starting to wonder if she was just made of hinges.

  “You know, it’s a good thing I’ve never had kids. Because I suck at this,” I grumbled as she flopped back to the bed and I was secretly praising Ilyan for bringing me a button-up shirt and insisting that her hoodie needed a wash. Which it did.

  “Okay, step two,” I mumbled, hands on hips as I caught my breath before deciding to wrestle her into the boxers.

  Luckily this was easier.

  “She looks just like him.” Talon’s deep boom seeped from underneath the closed door. He was clearly attempting to whisper, I only heard him because it was so quiet.

  “I know,” Ilyan returned, just as quietly, this time in Czech. “When I saw her in that classroom, I was transported back to that first time. I was surprised I didn’t see it before.”

  “I wonder if he did.”

  “Well, if he did, he’s better at concealing things than he should be.”

  “Of course he is, Ilyan, he’s a dr—” Whatever Talon was half whispering was drowned out by the sound of running water, the voices mumbled beneath it.

  “Has there been any sign of him?” Talon asked as the water cut off and my fingers froze on the buttons I was fastening.

  “No. I sent him with a small guard.” Ilyan said something else that was drowned out by more water and then, “I have sent a few teams out to look, but there are signs that Edmund got to him first. Perhaps to use as another trap to get her back.”

  “Well, then we should be happy that Ryland helped to get her out,” Talon said. I was moving so slow on these buttons that they would take me hours to
fasten all the way. “Could you imagine if Edmund had them both?”

  “There wouldn’t be any war left to fight.”

  I froze, buttons forgotten as I stared at the door. What in the world were they talking about? And who in the world would create an end game scenario?

  Sometimes I hated being in the dark; not like I had any choice. Talon got to know everything and be involved in every council meeting. I was still the lone Trpaslík. Sometimes Talon would let me in on small secrets, but I had a feeling with the hushed ways they were talking about things that this wasn’t one of those times.

  “All the more reason to get Ryland out now,” Ilyan said, their footsteps moving back toward the door. I moved back to the buttons so fast I might have pulled a muscle.

  “Do you think she will be up for it?”

  “With what I saw,” Ilyan said, opening the door and busting his way out. “She will be.”

  “And what did you see?” I asked, turning to the two men who froze in their tracks. Talon looked to Ilyan for whatever answer they were allowed to give, but he was staring at Joclyn.

  I probably should have smoothed out her hair, with the way it was fanned out she looked like she had stepped out of a hurricane.

  “The sight, Wynny,” Talon finally answered. “Where she was prophesied.”

  I nodded and fiddled with buttons and hair. I knew that of course, everyone did, I was just hoping for a bit more.

  I would have to bug Talon later, not that I was going to get my hopes up.

  “Too bad we can’t find ourselves a Drak to know for sure,” I mumbled. It wasn’t the first time I realized that the fate of the world rested on the word of an extinct magic, and it weighed heavily on me. “If only they weren’t all dead.”

  We all stood in silence, the air heavy with the truth of it.

  “She appears to be fine,” I said after a minute, setting my fingers on her collarbone again. Everything was still buzzing along nicely. “Talon, why don’t you carry her back to her—”

  “No,” Ilyan interrupted. “I want her here for the night. If anything happens to her I would like to be nearby.”

  “You are only one door down,” I began, forehead wrinkling together before Talon shook his head, cutting off what I had been about to say.

  “I will sleep at the foot of the bed. It won’t be the first time, won’t be the last.” He was still staring at her, his jaw tight, his long hair falling around his face. He seemed to have forgotten that we were here at all.

  “Good night, Ilyan,” Talon said, clapping him on the back before he dragged me out.

  I gave him one last look and bit my tongue. I knew I didn’t need to worry. Ilyan was as honorable a man as they came. Plus, the guy pretty much lived like a monk.

  The second the door closed behind us, however, I rounded on Talon.

  “I need answers,” I hissed, knowing that Ilyan could still hear us, even if Talon was dragging me down the hall.

  “Answers about what?”

  “Who she is or who you two were talking about in the bathroom.”

  “You heard that, huh?” He didn’t look a bit guilty as he opened the door to our room for me.

  “Who is missing?” He gave me a look. Okay, strike one. “Fine. What is so important about the sight? Who is she?”

  He gave me a look before he sped up, “She’s the Silnỳ.”

  “I know that.” I slugged him on the arm before I collapsed onto our bed. “But what exactly did Ilyan see, besides her saving us all?”

  “A future he can never have. A future he is trying to save for us all.”

  I opened my mouth to counter, but Talon was dead serious. He clearly thought what he was saying made sense.

  “Darn Skȓíteks!”

  I clearly wasn’t going to get any information out of him.

  Forty

  Joclyn

  I woke up screaming, my hair still damp from the drevo bath.

  I sat up, kicking the covers off me aggressively as I looked at my hands and arms, in search of the blood I knew to be there. I panted and scrubbed and screamed. I barely registered that someone was there with me until a warmth began to spread through me, the panic receding. I let the warmth take over me, let it calm me down. Although it wasn’t the warmth I really wanted, it would do for now.

  My mind became clear as I continued to stare uselessly at my hands, part of me still wondering where the blood had gone. I was like Lady Macbeth, scrubbing and clawing madly at nothing. Out Damn Spot. Out, I say! Except this wasn’t a play, the blood was real; it just wasn’t on my hands anymore.

  “Calm… Joclyn… calm.” Ilyan’s arms wrapped around me as his magic left my body. He pulled me to his chest, his hand running down my hair. “I’m here; it’s okay.”

  I wanted to pull away from him; I wanted to run to Ryland. I grasped for the necklace, desperate to bring back the connection, desperate to see him again. Ilyan grabbed my hands and steadied them, his warmth moving into me again, the force of it weaker this time.

  My screaming subsided into a low sob that racked through my chest. I forced my gaze away from my hands, surprised to see Ilyan’s bedroom and not the brown and orange of the room I had been given. Ilyan clutched me to him as I continued to cry, grateful that my tears were finally leaving.

  “What happened, Joclyn?” he asked when my crying had passed enough I could finally talk.

  “Ry... Ryland... he is in pain... so much pain.”

  “Another Tȍuha? What happened, Silnỳ?”

  “I saw him; the bruises, the cuts... the blood. Ed... Edmund cut out his mark.” Ilyan’s arms tensed around me, his breathing increasing in what I could only assume to be anger. “He was young... he didn’t recognize me. Why didn’t he recognize me, Ilyan?” The panic came back, that desperate edge creeping into my voice.

  “Oh, Silnỳ, his mind is being deleted. He remembers less and less each day. Did he remember you eventually?”

  “Yes, and before he left, I could have sworn it was him, that he wasn’t sixteen-year-old Ryland anymore; that it was really him.” I felt Ilyan’s body relax a bit. “Is that good?”

  “It means that all of him is still there, that he is still fighting.”

  “Why did he look so young then?”

  “Because as much as he fights, he is still losing the battle. The longer he fights it, the younger he will look in your Tȍuhas. But when he forgets you completely, when he is only a child, then it will be too late.”

  Ilyan’s words had a sharp edge that cut through me; it broke the dam I had made deep inside and let every single pent-up emotion and fear out in a tidal wave. I began crying uncontrollably again, but I didn’t want Ilyan to take the pain away and put me to sleep with his magic. I needed to feel it. I cried and clung to him as I let everything out.

  I howled over the death of my mother, the image of her lifeless body, vivid and vibrant. I cried at the memory of our lunch, the last time we were together, and how I had given her everything that she wanted; the daughter she had always wanted me to be.

  I sobbed over the loss of my normalcy. I balled up against Ilyan as I thought about the changes in my life, the drastic differences that had occurred within such a small amount of time.

  I mourned with the agonizing pain of a broken heart; my heart broke into a million pieces as everything hit me simultaneously, for the last time. Every memory of Ryland flashed by, and although I wanted to smile and laugh, the memories only hurt. Hurt that I could not have him; hurt at how much everything had changed.

  Through it all, Ilyan just held me, his wide hands rubbing my back. He shushed and cooed and sang to me as I cried, and all of it made me want to cry more, because his weren’t the arms I craved.

  When it was done, I knew it was done. I knew I was stronger than the pain now.

  “Why would he do that, Ilyan? Why would he cut the mark out?” Ilyan moved my hair away from my face, his finger lingering on my own mark. I jerked my head away, not wanting such an
intimate touch from him.

  “Do you remember when I told you the kiss is more like a poisonous bite? Well, the kiss itself is caused by a pool of poison. If it’s cut out, you release the poison into the person who bears the kiss.”

  I gasped and the tears came back again.

  “Will it kill him?”

  “It can, but I think Edmund only hopes to weaken him further, and gain control over his magic that much faster.”

  “Why? Why is he doing this?”

  “A punishment probably, but also to increase his control. Edmund has always viewed Ryland as a weapon, and now he sees the best opportunity to use him as such.”

  “We will be too late, won’t we?”

  Ilyan’s face made it clear that he didn’t know. Our eyes locked together in some silent agreement that we would try, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that trying wouldn’t be enough anymore.

  Ilyan would say no more; he simply laid me back down in his bed and put me to sleep with his magic. I was probably more grateful than I should have been, considering all I dreamed about was chasing a bloody trail through the golden hallways of the LaRue mansion.

  Forty-One

  Joclyn

  The following morning, I realized the downside of the white-on-white scheme of Ilyan’s room. The moment the sun began to creep over the horizon and the gray light of dawn had begun to fade away, the room became supercharged with light. The beams of golden sun shone through the window that Ilyan had pushed his bed up against. They bounced around and increased in brightness as the white walls and carpet reflected them back. Once the light had infiltrated my troubled sleep, I sat upright, sleep leaving me much quicker than I would have liked.

  I was still in Ilyan’s bed, still in Ilyan’s rooms. I shouldn’t be here.

  I sat there trying to plan some form of escape. Even if I made it out the door, I wasn’t sure I could remember which door led to the brown and orange room. I was having trouble focusing; a subtle buzzing was taking over my body, causing my mind to bounce around. It felt like the warm heat I had always felt from Ryland and Ilyan, but more alive, more electric. More mine. I brushed off the feeling, trying to focus on my escape again. The buzzing under my skin grew steadily, making me feel jittery and anxious.