Once we had made it through the door from the courtyard, Ilyan’s pace increased until we had emerged on the other side through yet another door, this one leading to a wide expanse of untamed forest. I couldn’t see a city or town; we were surrounded by hills of forest, misty mountains just visible in the distance.
This was the weirdest location for a hotel I had ever seen.
“Do you trust me, Silnỳ?”
The answer to the question was obvious. He had saved my life. I nodded once.
“Good. Now, do you trust me to not let you fall?”
It took a moment for me to get my wits about me. As much as I was scared of falling, scared of breaking my body again, I knew that I trusted Ilyan. He would not let anything happen to me; of that, I was sure. I nodded once in agreement, and a wide smile spread over his face.
“Good. I am going to teach you to fly the way my father taught me. I want you to use the wind to launch yourself into the air, straight up. Can you do that?”
“No,” I said, panic seizing me.
“I won’t let you fall, Joclyn. I promise you this above all else, I will never let anything hurt you. I am only here to protect you.”
He was dead serious, his voice reverent, like he was giving me some kind of vow. My heart jumpstarted.
“Okay.”
“Now get down and prepare to jump.”
I gave him one more look before I crouched down to the ground as Ilyan had instructed, my palms lying flat against the ground.
“Now call the wind to you,” he whispered behind me.
I closed my eyes tightly, attempting to forget that anyone was there, forgetting my previous failures. I breathed out, letting my magic come to a boiling point under my skin. My magic moved away from me easily, stretching away and bringing the wind back with it. The warm tongues licked at my feet and the tips of my fingers. I moved it around, amazed at the control I had over it. It obeyed my every thought.
“Now, jump.”
With one swift movement, I kicked off from the ground, the wind propelling me upward, my arms extending out, warm air whipping past my fingers. The sensation was amazing; I could have never guessed that so much freedom lay in this, in flight. My face rose to the sun, enjoying the warm rays and the breeze that moved across my skin. The feeling of the wind’s soft touch brought back memories of a million car rides up the canyon and a million tree races. Even through the bittersweet memories, I smiled. Then the wind began to change.
The air zoomed past me as I began to fall. I looked around desperately for a branch large enough to land on, my instinct from the tree races kicking in. There was nothing, not even a stem big enough to support my weight.
I had flown too high.
I had been here before. I had fallen. I had almost died. I screamed in fear and agony as gravity pulled me toward the earth again. My body tensed, preparing for the awful impact that waited for me below. Instead of hard dirt though, I felt strong arms. My body clenched further as I looked into Ilyan’s face, his arms cradled around me as he propelled us upward. His wind moved around us as we flew toward a tree, a large branch stretching out before him as if welcoming us. Ilyan landed on the branch safely, his arms still wrapped around me.
“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”
“Thank you, My Lord.” I moved away from him, careful to keep myself standing on the tree branch.
“I am just Ilyan now, Joclyn.”
“Thank you, Ilyan.”
“You are very welcome.” He smiled softly. “Now, we are going to do it again, but this time I want you to focus on the wind. Set your mind on what it is doing and how I am controlling it. Do not let fear enter your mind. I will be here, always.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, calling the wind again. The warm breeze came almost instantly, but it wasn’t just my magic controlling the movements of the wind. Ilyan’s magic intertwined with mine as the wind swirled around us. It was not my magic that eventually forced the wind to push us off the tree branch. Ilyan’s magic surged, sending us flying into the air. My body tensed in panic as my feet lost contact with the branch.
“Relax your body; do not think of the movement you are about to accomplish.” Ilyan’s voice was soft in my ear as his hands moved to grip my waist. “Focus only on the wind. Focus on its movement, on its warmth. Focus on how your magic will bring it to you. And do not worry, Joclyn; I will never let you fall.” With that, he threw my body into the air, the wind he controlled pushing me up and away from the tree.
I screamed as my body left the security of his arms, terror grabbing hold of me. Before I could act on the fear, Ilyan was there again, his arms wrapped around me as he held me against him, our bodies floating through nothing. He stayed there for just seconds before throwing me in a different direction, spinning me through the air away from him.
As I twirled through the air, my magic moved away from me, my calm body giving it leave from its prison underneath my skin. My magic mingled with Ilyan’s as he controlled the wind that supported me, our combined magic flowing and dancing. I continued to fly forward as our magic worked together to guide me. Ilyan grabbed me gently and continued moving us through the open air.
As Ilyan threw me away from him again, wind and magic swirling in a perfect dance, I understood; all trace of fear was gone. I knew exactly what to do. I grabbed the wind that Ilyan had surrounded me with and pushed it another way, my body moving alongside it as I controlled it.
This was familiar.
This was the feeling I got when I climbed the trees with Ryland; this supreme happiness and freedom. It was just as Wyn had said; I had used Ryland’s magic to climb the trees, except now, it was my magic giving me those same feelings. Even though I missed Ryland’s comforting warmth, there was something empowering behind doing it myself.
“Now catch me,” Ilyan’s voice called after me. I turned my head to see him speeding away through the trees in the opposite direction from where I was headed, dodging in and out of the high branches. I laughed happily before easily changing my course to fly after him. Ilyan moved swiftly, his powerful arms propelling him further, his wind racing him ahead of me. He moved with an ever-increasing speed as he changed his course several times. His smiling face continued to look back at me as I desperately tried to catch up to him. I followed behind, not making much headway before he changed his course yet again.
As he moved, I saw a path that would give me a straight shot right to him. I smiled at the idea of winning the game before plunging myself down into the lower branches of the tree. It was harder to move here with the branches growing smaller and closer together, but being out of sight gave me the opportunity to cut across a corner that led straight to him. I broke out of the lower branches, a rush of wind pushing me up to where Ilyan flew. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him off his course, and slamming us into a large branch of a tree.
“Got you,” I said.
I rolled onto the branch as my body began to register the effort that was involved in not only flying, but also propelling through branches. I leaned up against the trunk of the tree and looked at where we had ended up, my breathing ragged and forced as I attempted to catch my breath.
“Very good,” Ilyan said. He leaned forward and placed his hand gently against my face. I stiffened as his warmth moved into me, moving right to my back. It spread comfortably down my spine, wiping away the small aches that had popped up from our impact.
“I didn’t break my back again, if that’s what you’re checking.”
“I know, but it’s always best to double check.” He smiled before removing his hand, letting his fingers trace the kiss again.
“Why do you do that?” I said, moving swiftly away from his touch.
“Do what?”
“Touch my kiss. It seems you take every opportunity to touch it.”
He withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you?”
“Not as much as it should, I suppose.” I hated how true that wa
s. “When Ryland touched it, I kind of blacked out. Why doesn’t it do that with you?”
“Because you are not bonded to me, Joclyn. I am not your mate and so our bodies don’t react.”
“Mate?” I exclaimed, terrified.
“Yes, Joclyn. The Zȇlství, remember? Everything just has a different name.”
I nodded my head like I understood, but my stomach still spun. Mate? I was seventeen, barely.
“So why do you keep touching it?” I asked, freaking out a little bit. “You don’t expect the same thing to happen, do you?”
Ilyan laughed, which I should have been happy about, but instead it only made me feel really embarrassed.
“No, Joclyn, you don’t have to worry about that. I am only here to protect you. It’s just…”
“What?”
“It’s just been so long since I have seen one, since my father… My father had a kiss just as you do, did you know that?
“Your father? But I thought you were a… a... Skry…” Darn it, I had forgotten the word.
“A Skȓítek, Joclyn.”
“I thought you were a Skȓítek?”
“My mother was. My father was a Chosen, just as you are. So I guess I am kind of a half-breed,” he said.
“A half-breed… who is king of the Skȓíteks?”
Ilyan nodded at my connection. “My father ruled over all magical beings for a time, many years ago. So, I guess you could say that I inherited the title.”
“Your father was king? Of the Skȓíteks?”
“More along the lines of king over everyone. In that time, there was no true segregation.”
“What happened to him? Did Edmund kill him, too?”
Ilyan hesitated, looking away and running his hands through his straight hair.
I instantly regretted asking the question.
“My father was the first person that Edmund destroyed,” he clarified.
Forty-Four
Ryland
The giant gash in my back was never going to heal properly. Partly in thanks to my father still restraining my magic, but mostly from the poison that cutting out my kiss had unleashed on me.
Which was the whole point.
I sat in the corner of the underground prison, shivering from cold and pain.
“What else do you remember?” Sain asked from the darkness of his own cell. I pulled one of the blankets he had given me up a bit higher.
“I remember the way her hair smells. The way it always fell in a long tangle of curls. I remember the way her brow pulled together when she thought I was being ridiculous.” My heart tightened and my magic zinged again.
“How about her mother?” Sain sounded half asleep from where he sat, staring straight ahead as he went through his usual line of questions.
“She was the first person to ask me what was wrong, and actually wanted to help. She made a delicious beef stew.” She made everything delicious, and while the memory of her made me feel warm and safe in different ways, it was nothing compared to how the thought of Joclyn buzzed through me. “I don’t know if anyone can be an anchor for me as much as Jos can.”
“Then she is your ticket out of this.” Sain turned his head to me, his green eyes sparking in the dark. “Not that I am surprised.”
I gave a pained sound that was meant to be a chuckle and rested my head back. With how much I had talked Sain’s ear off about Joclyn, I think we both would have been surprised if it hadn’t been her.
“So what do I do now?” We had spent the last few days going over memories, but they were still leaving at an astonishing rate. I needed Sain to deliver on his promise.
“I want you to think about building a box someplace in your mind, or in your heart. An iron box that your father can’t reach.”
“Okay.” I lifted an eyebrow at him, waiting for something more.
“And I want you to fill it with every memory you have of Joclyn. Even if it means you forget them for a little while, I want you to put them in the box. I want you to keep them safe.”
Now I was raising two eyebrows. Sain just chuckled at me and went back to staring off into the dark.
“You want me to build an invisible box and hide my memories in it?”
“Yes.” He chuckled deeper, the sound twisting into a cough that echoed through our prison. “I know it sounds crazy, but it will work. Even if you don’t remember her anymore, as long as the strongest parts of your memory still exist, your father can never have full control over you. There is still a chance for escape.”
“I thought you were going to teach me how to get my memories back? Tell me how to fight this.”
“I am.”
I wanted to believe him. In a way, I was already doing what he asked. I had been holding my most precious memories safe inside of me, locking them away from my father. It just so happened that all of those memories revolved around Joclyn. No wonder I was so disappointed. I had expected a miracle cure, some grand reveal. Some way to get us both out of here. I got none of that.
I sagged against the bars and pulled my tattered blanket up to my chin. The cold darkness fell into silence, my mind drifting back into memories of Joclyn. Each one a precious gift that I slowly began to lock away.
I didn’t know if I was asleep or just locked inside my memories, but I jumped when the door at the top of the stone staircase opened, all of my muscles and nerves going into high alert at what was coming.
I had never truly trusted my father. I always feared him, but this fear was something I had never experienced before. I recoiled, shivering in panic, eyes focused on the stairwell as my father and his cronies began to descend.
“I am tired of waiting,” Edmund was saying, leading the charge down the stairs. “This may be our easiest opportunity to capture them all. We could retrieve her and end this. I could take control.”
“They will come.” Timothy was clearly cowering. “They will have seen him on the news by now. You know, Ilyan. He will not be able to resist saving him. Ryland is the trap we have been waiting for.”
“No,” Edmund snapped as they all came into view; Edmund, Timothy, and Cail all clustered together. “Ryland is the bait. I need to know how to set the trap.” They all turned, and the muscles in my spine knit together. But they weren’t looking at me. They were looking at Sain. “I need to know when and where.”
Sain shivered, pushing himself into the wall as he tried to disappear beneath the grungy rags.
“Sain,” my father began. I looked between them in confusion. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” For the first time, the old man sounded scared.
“You must be starving.” I was sure I could hear Sain whimper at his taunt. “Would you like something to eat? To drink?”
My father sounded like he was talking to a dog, and Sain responded in kind. Then my father reached behind him, hand out to Cail who handed him a simple brown clay mug.
It looked like a poorly done pottery project from a child.
With how Sain reacted, you would think it was plated in gold.
He scuttled forward, still whimpering, before cowering back, his fingers still twitching.
“What do you want, Edmund?” He asked, and my father pulled back the mug. Another whimper. “What do you want, my Lord?”
“I want to know when they are coming. I want to know how to beat him.” My father had barely extended his hand before Sain grabbed the mug, placed his hand over the rim and then drank from it as though it contained a never ending supply of liquid.
Weird. I could have sworn it was empty.
Sain emptied the mug, his entire body sagging as though he had been drugged, his focus going right back to the spot on the wall he had been staring at. Except, this time, his eyes were black. A swatch of ebony fully encompassed them.
“The night is long in celebration of a date long sought,” Sain began, his voice changed to a heavy dead tone. Almost as if he was being controlled by someone else. “In the high halls of coronation a blast will be
gin the battle that will sing of your victory. Gain control and you will win. Lose your spoils and the end will be near. Only a child that was once lost will tip the scales.”
Words spoken, Sain sagged back, mug all but forgotten as his eyes faded back to green.
I couldn’t even move. I was frozen as I watched the man, my father turning to me with a wide grin on his face. “Looks like you are going to get a graduation party after all.”
Sain had told me he was my father’s other prized possession, but I had no idea what that had meant. Until now.
Sain was a Drak.
Forty-Five
Ryland
The familiar sounds of the hallway rattled in my head as an echo. Shouts, the sound of feet, a dozen lockers all slamming at once; they all buzzed in my head as though they were a million miles away and not just a few feet.
I stood, blinking as I tried to focus on the cool touch of the locker as if that would help to pull me out this prison.
“Damn, Ry. You look like shit.”
I turned at the voice, the sounds and faces becoming clearer as I stared at the guy who had spoken. He leaned against the locker next to mine, uniform jacket over his shoulder, hair a coiffed mess.
I knew him.
I blinked, trying to pull his name out of the muddled mess of my mind.
‘Yeah, I got into a fight.’
“Yeah, I got into a fight.” My own words echoed those of my father in my mind, a smile that I didn’t want following. “Don’t worry, I won.”
“You sure? It doesn’t look like it.”
‘I’m sure.’
“I’m sure. He deserved it.”
“Like Marcus, last term?” The kid added, nudging me with his elbow as I slammed my locker shut and we made our way through the crowded hall.
Even in the fog that I was trapped in I noticed that every single head turned to stare at me. My father had forced most of my injuries to heal, although he left me with a few as reminders. Yes, I looked like I was in a fight, but that wasn’t the reason they were staring at me.
Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery Page 31