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

by Ethington, Rebecca

  Wyn had gone one step further by giving my body the persona to match my hair. She had insisted I place a small magnet in my nose that resembled a nose ring and had taken about an hour to draw on a tattoo with a ballpoint pen. The constant pressure of the tiny pen-tip against my skin had hurt, although not as much as I assumed a real tattoo would. After an hour of being drawn on, my skin had thankfully gone numb, and she had left me with an intricate spider web that stretched all the way down my left arm and across my back.

  I wore what could only be described as “club clothes”: tight black pants that Wyn had to magically get me into, matched with what my mom would deem stripper heels, and a lime green, loose-fitting, backless shirt. Combine the face and hair with the tight-fitting, revealing clothes, and I felt a desperate need to appear more confident than I really was.

  I still felt like the insecure, scared girl I had always been. I looked at myself in the mirror and tugged at my clothes to find some sort of comfort. Standing there alone reminded me so much of my first day without my hoodie. I clutched my necklace, remembering how Ryland had been right there to support me that day, how he had only looked into me and told me how beautiful I was. I exhaled deeply, the memory heaving through me like caffeine.

  After Wyn had placed the finishing touches on my disguise, about twenty of us met in the middle of the courtyard in preparation for leaving. I wasn’t the only one who had changed my appearance. Ilyan had cut his hair short and dyed it brown. Talon had kept his hair long, but had bleached it white; from the back he almost looked like Ilyan. I got the distinct impression that was the idea.

  I pulled and tugged at my clothes as I walked toward the group, not wanting so much of my body to be visible. We all gathered together and took off into the sky, following Ilyan to a small run-down conference center in a city I didn’t recognize. He herded us into a small room, with the sole intent of holding a planning meeting.

  Ilyan had been speaking nonstop since the meeting began; he wrote on an old chalkboard, separated us into groups, and spoke to each member of each group individually. I didn’t understand a word; everyone was speaking only in Czech. I shifted my weight again, my body sore and stiff against the folding metal chair I sat in.

  I looked around; luckily, I wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable. Wyn sat in the back next to Ovailia whose icy stare was penetrating Ilyan as he continued to lay out what I could only assume was the plan of attack. Ovailia had spoken up several times during the meeting, and although I had no idea what she was saying, her voice was still venomous.

  Suddenly, everyone stood in succession, the quick movement startling me. I stood with them, but immediately regretted it as they all began to pull chairs together and sit down in smaller groups. I sat back down, hoping no one had seen my blunder, and focused on my strappy four-inch heels as I once again adjusted my clothes.

  “So, did you enjoy the meeting?” I looked up just as Ilyan pulled up a chair directly in front of me. His hair was too off-putting; I couldn’t seem to stop looking at it. It just made him look too much like Ryland would look without his curls.

  “I suppose it would have been great if I had understood anything.”

  “Sorry about that. But don’t worry, I’m here to give you the Cliff Notes.” He leaned forward and my eyes drifted to his short brown hair again in an effort to avoid eye contact.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “We discussed our attack plan.”

  I looked up expectantly, but he just sat there staring at me.

  “And?”

  “That’s it.”

  Two hours of sitting in a hard chair and they had discussed the ‘attack plan’. Great.

  “So what are they doing now? Planning the after-party?” I spat bitterly, but instead of laughing, Ilyan’s face fell instantly.

  “They are saying goodbye to their loved ones, Silnỳ.”

  I peeked around him to see Wyn and Talon with their arms wrapped around each other, a few other pairs coupled off around them. Most of the others were quietly talking on cell phones. I sat back in my chair, my nerves jumping angrily.

  “Are you saying goodbye to your loved ones, too?” My eyes floated to Ovailia who stood against the wall, her head bowed.

  “Of course.”

  My stomach jumped at his response. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it as my confidence wavered. Ilyan chuckled at my indecision and leaned back against his chair with his arms folded as if he was getting ready for a show. I determinedly looked away from him, but my eyes were automatically drawn to his hair again.

  “Are you going to be looking at my hair all night, Joclyn?”

  “No!” I responded, a blush at being caught rushing to my cheeks. “It just looks so weird on you.”

  “You don’t look too bad yourself,” Ilyan said, pulling on one of the long, red strands that hung down at the sides of my face.

  “Don’t remind me. My hair grows slowly, too; I am going to be stuck with this hairdo forever.”

  To my embarrassment, Ilyan laughed, causing several people to turn.

  “What?”

  “You can grow it back with your magic, Joclyn.” Ilyan chuckled deeply, causing a furious blush to deepen against my cheeks.

  “What?”

  “Didn’t Wyn tell you?”

  “No!” My mouth hung open in frustration.

  Ilyan only continued to smile. “No wonder you looked so depressed when I saw you last night.”

  Truthfully, I hadn’t been depressed because of my hair; I had been more concerned about his wicked father, but I wasn’t going to get into that right before we left to rescue his youngest brother.

  I shook my head and slammed my bare back against the cold, metal chair. I tried to shift my clothes again, I really needed to give up trying.

  “So… are you going to tell me what this attack plan is?”

  He sighed before nodding once and then angled his chair so we could both see the group that was still shuffling around the conference room.

  “Wyn, Talon, Evert and Glenna will be clearing the roof. Ovailia, Ferne and Nyse will be clearing the upper hallways. Adyl, Benton and Eber will already be stationed at the party. Delia, Iolo, Jevon and Evadne will be clearing the exterior; and Tace and Zilla will be our forward guard. You will be with me.” He pointed each of them out as he spoke; my mind unable to connect faces with their unusual names.

  “And what do we do?”

  “Rescue Ryland,” he stated quietly. “I need you to get him to leave with you. We will all serve as some form of a distraction and guard while you get him out. Once you leave, we all leave. The longer you wait, the more dangerous this mission is for everyone.”

  “Get him out, sounds easy enough,” I sighed sarcastically, thinking my task sounded anything but easy. “As long as he is still Ryland.”

  If he wasn’t Ryland, I wasn’t sure what he would do. He had attacked me in the Tȍuha when he had changed. If he did attack me tonight, I was not sure I was powerful enough yet to fight him off. Worse yet, what if I got him out as Ryland, and he changed once we left.

  I sighed and sank into my chair a bit, feeling completely useless.

  “Then let’s hope he will be.” Ilyan’s hands writhed; he seemed to be thinking along the same lines I was. “We will go in under Zmizȇt and make our way into the main hall; that is where Ryland will be.”

  “Zmizȇt?”

  “Yes, it’s a shield that can cause you to be invisible. Of course, if it works in the LaRue estate with the same effectiveness it did on you, then we are all in trouble.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, my face squished together in confusion.

  “All those times you saw me in your school, I was shielding myself with Zmizȇt. But it didn’t work so well on you.” He narrowed his eyes at me curiously. “I wonder why that is?”

  I shrank away from him as his blue eyes flashed dangerously. Was I broken or something? I couldn’t get my magic beyond my necklac
e, but I could see people who were supposed to be invisible? Definitely broken.

  “You’re the king; you tell me.” I wished I could move away from him a bit.

  “Manners, Joclyn.” Ilyan didn’t even flinch as Ovailia came up beside him. I, however, got the full extent of her glare and had to fight the urge to run away. “I hate to interrupt, but it is time to go.”

  “So it is.” Ilyan stood and moved away, leaving Ovailia alone with me. I had hoped she would follow him, but instead, she stepped closer.

  “I would like you to know, Joclyn; I am only doing this to save my brother. I have no intention of saving you. If you get cornered, you’re on your own.” She smiled acidly at me, waiting for me to respond. Her look reminded me of the way Cynthia McFadden would egg me on. I shrank away from her instinctively. She glared toward me for only a moment longer before striding out of the room. I slumped back down in my chair.

  I had the excited nerves of an audition, mixed with the raw, icy fear of going into the unknown. I shook my head, emptying the thought of Ovailia’s comment from the nervous strangulation that was taking hold of me. The room had emptied of everyone but me and Ilyan before he turned and gestured toward me.

  “I am going to have to carry you to Ryland’s house, if you don’t mind?” he said as we walked outside to where the others had gathered.

  “What?” I was suddenly appalled.

  “It’s a risk for everyone if you have liquid memories of how to get back to the motel.”

  “What do you mean? I’m not a risk,” I retorted, remembering all too vividly Ovailia’s words in the courtyard.

  “If you are captured, I don’t need your memories to guide them to the motel. Since I don’t have time to teach you to perform a Zmizȇt, I need to be in contact with your skin.”

  “And you have to carry me? Why can’t we just hold hands or something?” I suggested, irritated by the idea.

  “If you won’t let me carry you, Joclyn, I will just put you to sleep.”

  I grumbled in acceptance before allowing him to cradle me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck, worried that he would drop me. He laughed at me softly; I knew full well how ridiculous I was acting, especially considering that the last time he had carried me like this, I hadn’t been able to move.

  We all swept into the air in unison, Ilyan leading us to what I was sure was certain doom.

  This whole week, I had been confident that this was a sure thing, that everything would go perfectly. Then, last night, Ilyan had shattered my little delusional fantasy. This was not going to be easy; it would be dangerous. What was worse—we might fail.

  “You need to close your eyes, Silnỳ.”

  I obeyed him.

  “What happens if we can’t get him out, Ilyan?” I asked into the darkness.

  “We will get him out.” His voice was so determined, I could almost detect that maniacal power in him already.

  “But what if…”

  Ilyan’s arms tightened around me, pushing my torso into him.

  “We will get him; do not worry.”

  I didn’t dare say anymore. I didn’t really want to think about it, anyway; thinking of failure almost seemed like a curse on this whole venture.

  We landed among the lilac bushes, azaleas and roses behind the kitchen door to the large estate. Ilyan put me down, and I opened my eyes apprehensively, surprised to see only Ilyan and the two he had pointed out as our “forward guard”. The others must have already taken their positions.

  I looked up at the building curiously, surprised to see nothing but pale white stone. I knew the fire and explosions must have spread to this part of the mansion, yet there was nothing damaged. Ilyan must have been right; they must have repaired the building magically.

  Being so close to entering the mansion made me edgy and I found myself shifting my weight and exhaling more than I should. This gained me quite a few dirty looks from Tace and Zilla, but I didn’t care. I doubted anyone could hear me over the noise, anyway.

  Happy screams and catcalls filled the air from the pool beyond the bushes; the heavy beat of the music inside pulsed through the air and shook the ground. Ryland’s graduation from high school should have been a happy occasion, not the site for a rescue mission.

  I could feel the tension; the pulsing, magical energy flowing from each of us as we sat ready, waiting to pounce. The magic seemed to beat in time with the music that surrounded us; the longer we waited, the louder it grew. Ryland’s necklace sat hot on my skin under my lime green shirt, the intense heat warning me that danger was nearby. I pulsed my magic reflexively, hoping that being this close to Ryland, to Edmund, would provide me with additional control. Nothing happened; Edmund’s restrictive blanket remained a suffocating force over my ability. I swallowed hard, hoping that when the blanket slipped off me, I could control the pent-up energy it would surely release.

  The four of us looked up in unison as a large, red firework lit up the sky above the manor. The excited squeals from the pool echoed the deep boom of the explosion. It was our cue to go. Tace and Zilla bolted out in front of us, their bodies breaking through the bushes toward the door I had entered a million times. I screamed out in surprise as Ilyan grabbed me and flung me onto his back before he followed their lead.

  The door to the kitchen flung open in a burst of wind that carried all of us into the hustle and bustle of the elaborate space. The wind pushed over trays of food and plates, and sent napkins flying through the air. The resulting mess sent the kitchen staff into a panicked frenzy. We took advantage of the disarray as we sped through the kitchen without having to worry about the Zmizȇt being ineffective. Even without the diversion and the cloaking spell, our speed would have made us invisible. I just caught a glance of Mette’s frazzled face before we took off down the staff hallway that led from the kitchen.

  Tace and Zilla continued in front of us, our pace quick and fleeting. We moved through two corridors before Zilla’s pace reduced to a casual saunter. Ilyan and Tace followed suit, Ilyan moving us right up against the wall.

  Only a moment after the change in pace, two small men I had never seen before came around the corner to face us. At first, it was obvious they couldn’t see us, but realization dawned on them as the Zmizȇt seemed to fall away from our bodies.

  Tace and Zilla did not wait; they moved so fast their bodies blurred. One moment they stood in front of us, and the next, they were directly before and behind the two Trpaslíks. Two dim flashes of light lit up the hallway before their bodies fell to the ground.

  Ilyan rushed to their side, his face falling in alarm and frustration.

  “Well, so much for stealth,” he sighed. He turned to Tace and Zilla and spoke to them in Czech before the two went into action, moving and hiding the bodies in the many servants’ quarters surrounding us.

  “I need you to stay right beside me, Joclyn.” He didn’t look at me; he continued looking straight ahead as he spoke.

  Tace emerged from the rooms first, followed by Zilla who shook her long, blonde hair as she spoke to Ilyan. He didn’t wait to translate; he simply grabbed my hand and towed me behind him as we ran from hallway to hallway.

  The music increased in volume as we raced forward. We had abandoned any attempts at stealth, although it probably wouldn’t have mattered since the music became so loud that any noise we made was drowned out.

  We almost made it to the connecting servants’ hall when Tace and Zilla plastered themselves into the alcoves of the doorways; Ilyan towed me after him into another doorway. He kept me hidden safely behind him, his hand holding me against the door as he looked at what was going on in the hall. I heard a small yelp, shuffling feet, and two dull thuds before Ilyan released me from the small space behind him. By the time I made it to the hall, the two Skȓíteks were already hiding the bodies in a storage closet.

  Ilyan held me back as we reached the door that would open up into the hallway that connected to the main hall before turning and speaking to the o
thers. His lips moved as he spoke, but I could barely hear him, the overwhelming music drowning him out. Before he even finished speaking, Tace and Zilla exited from our hallway into another. My body tensed; I felt strangely unprotected without them.

  “They are going in first,” Ilyan yelled into my ear. “They will be watching you in the hall. Are you ready?”

  I couldn’t respond, my body tense.

  Ilyan plunged us through the door and didn’t slow down as we approached the ballroom that housed the party. The hall light dimmed as we got closer until we were moving through a faintly lit hallway, the flashing lights of the party reflecting out of the open door and onto the wall in front of us. I kept my gaze on the dancing lights, trying desperately to keep my head on straight while still focusing on the dynamic energy that was building under my skin.

  Ilyan stopped abruptly before we made it to the main hall and threw me roughly against the wall. I tensed; this wasn’t part of the plan, and the look on Ilyan’s face suggested trouble. He pressed his body against mine, every inch of him, from his shoulders to his toes, pressed against me. His hand grabbed one of mine and restrained it above my head.

  My body froze; his proximity sending angry surges of magic vibrating over my skin. I tried to pull away from him, but he held me roughly in place, his grip increasing. I looked up to him in a panic, just as he leaned forward to place his cheek against mine. My heart thudded uncomfortably.

  “Close your eyes and pretend that this is natural for us.” His voice was rough in my ear as he nuzzled his face into my neck, his warm breath running across my skin. I let my lids drop over my eyes and raised my hand to cup his neck. My heart beat erratically as I felt the negative energy pulse toward us, heavy footsteps announcing the arrival of someone unwelcome.

  “Keep them closed,” Ilyan instructed as he moved his head, hoping to mimic the look of an intimate kiss against my neck. I screwed my face up into what I hoped was a pleasurable expression as the negative power hit its peak. Ilyan intertwined his fingers with mine and pushed against me harder, the ridge of the wall pushing into my bare back.