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

by Ethington, Rebecca

  “Of course.” Cail was grinning like a mad man as he stepped forward, those puppet strings coming back as I followed him out of the mansion and into the air. Towards something that I didn’t want to kill.

  If only I could remember what.

  ‘You never will. You are under my control now.’

  Fifty-Five

  Joclyn

  I watched the fire that had embraced the building; I watched the purple and green flames lick the roof and reach their slinky arms up to the sky. I saw the red and blue flashing lights of the emergency vehicles that surrounded the mansion, the hordes of people who came, either to watch or to huddle around the ambulances in panic. I watched as the bodies became indiscriminate specks and the flames became tiny orbs of colored light. I watched as the building became nothing more than a colorless speck in the midst of the city lights. I watched as it all disappeared into the blackness of a starless, moonless, hopeless night.

  Through it all, I cried; my heart calling to Ryland as he disappeared from my life forever. I clung to Ilyan as my chest was wracked with sobs, my breathing ragged and broken. I drenched his shirt with my tears and any other gross secretions that joined my broken heart. He didn’t seem to care.

  Ilyan held me close to him as he flew us through the air, his arms holding me securely. In the back of my mind, I knew that he was singing to me. I could feel the rumble of his chest; hear his deep, comforting voice in my ear. But I didn’t know what was being said, though; I didn’t understand what the words meant.

  “Teď tiše, moje malá. Upokoj se, buď klidná. S novým úsvitem se svět změní. A když se změní, uvidíš, jaký bychom měli být, ty a já.” He sang it to me slowly, over and over.

  My tears slowed, but the pain didn’t go away. I had lost everything. My father had left me, only to disappear shortly after renewing contact. My beautiful mother had been murdered, a casualty of the war I had been thrust into. My best friend, the new love who was so ruthlessly torn away from me—his mind had been erased and all memory of me had been stolen from him.

  I was only vaguely aware when Ilyan landed. His arms loosened as he attempted to lower me down, but I held onto him tightly, my heart terrified of losing one of the last things I had. I clung to him like a terrified child, locking my fingers together in a panic.

  “It’s okay, Silnỳ.” He tried to release my arms again, but I only held on tighter.

  “No!” I wailed into him, clinging to him. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I am not going anywhere. I will be right back.”

  His magic surged through my bloodstream, and my body instantly relaxed. I sank to the ground, eyes only barely registering Ilyan’s retreating footsteps. I looked around myself, not really taking in the dirt, dried leaves and pine needles.

  I had barely registered where I was—the fire pit—before Wyn kneeled before me. Her pants were torn and covered in dirt, the brightly-colored ‘Queen’ t-shirt burned and ripped at the hem.

  “He’s gone.” My voice broke with my tears.

  “I know.” Wyn’s voice wasn’t condescending, or comforting, but my heart still ripped open to hear it from someone else.

  “I failed him, Wyn.” I sank down further, my body falling forward into Wyn’s lap. She wrapped her arms around me, her head resting on my back. I felt her warm breath against my skin, her tears falling like dripping ice against me.

  “It’s all right, Joclyn. We will get him back.”

  I sat up, throwing Wyn off me, my blood heating to a sudden boil.

  “Get who back, Wyn? He’s gone! There is no more Ryland! He’s gone!” I screamed as loud as my sore and broken voice would let me. It was probably a good thing Wyn’s battle-worn face already looked like someone had punched her or I probably would have.

  “I was supposed to save him, and I failed. I was supposed to protect him from his father, and I couldn’t. He’s not there anymore!”

  “He has to be there, Jos. He loves you so much, he—”

  “Loved me. The Ryland who loved me doesn’t exist anymore. I lost my father because of a stupid mark! My mother was murdered because you people cursed me! And now I have lost Ryland, the one person who meant the most to me!” I felt that uncontrollable anger seeping into my soul again; the desire to fight and yell and scream hit much stronger than it should have been.

  “Enough, Joclyn.” I heard Ilyan’s commanding voice flow over me; Ilyan’s magical barrier freezing my emotions in place.

  I felt the anger vanish, leaving me with the soul-crushing sadness of my heartbreak. I sank into the ground, my body curling in on itself. I ran my fingers over the dirt as I looked to the tops of the trees I had climbed so many times.

  “It’s okay, Ilyan; she’s just hurt. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying.” Wyn’s voice was tiny; I could barely feel her hand against my shoulder.

  “I know, Wyn.” There was a pause and I heard Ilyan exhale deeply, his magical restraints peeling off me a bit. “It’s time to go. You and Talon are going to carry the tail of the western evacuation and go home through Los Angeles.”

  “And Joclyn?” Wyn’s voice was hesitant.

  “Joclyn will be going into hiding with me. Ryland marked her, the Zȇlství is complete. I am not sure if Edmund is going to use their connection to track her down or not. Until I know for sure, she is staying with me.”

  “Then I am staying with you, too.” Wyn’s voice was forceful, but sad; I couldn’t imagine what it had cost her to say that, to commit to leaving Talon again. I unwound myself from my cocoon of pity to look at her, my heart melting.

  “You can’t leave Talon, Wyn.” My voice was soft and broken. “I left Ryland, and now he is gone. Please, for me, stay with Talon.”

  Our eyes locked as she reached forward to take my hands. A million thank yous, a million emotions passed between us before she stood, our hands extended between us in a last goodbye.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I whispered. She could only nod. The phrase ‘going into hiding’ did not bode well for quick reunions.

  She squeezed my hands before turning away from me and then she and Talon took off into the inky night sky.

  “It’s time to go, Silnỳ.” I looked up at Ilyan, surprised to see tears falling down his own cheeks.

  Ilyan didn’t expect me to stand; he leaned down and lifted me securely into his arms. He didn’t cradle me as he had before, but held me against him in a bone-crushing hug that took my breath away.

  “It’s okay to be angry, Joclyn. It’s okay to mourn. Feel. Sit with those emotions. Just don’t let them rule you. Soon, we will let them fuel you.” He pressed me against him as we soared into the air, the wind whipping his hair and what was left of mine around us. My emotionally drained body sank into him, a few soothing lines of his calming melody sinking into me before I fell fast asleep.

  I woke up the next morning in a gray apartment. The walls were gray, the curtains were gray. It was an ugly gray palette that I had no interest in seeing. I rolled over and pulled the covers over my head, trying to block out the light. I breathed deeply, but it came out ragged and torn. I had cried all through the night.

  “Did you get everyone out?” Ilyan’s voice was calm and even. I could tell he was on the phone by the way he switched back and forth between Czech and English.

  “We made it to the third safe house. I made everyone go before us, so they all should be safe.”

  I rolled over to lie on my back, throwing the blanket away from me. As I moved, the necklace shifted onto my skin; I had almost forgotten about it.

  “Yes, get everyone to Prague. I will start the evacuation on my end. The more of a trickle we can form, the safer everyone will be.” He came around the corner, surprised to see me awake.

  “I am still keeping her with me, Ovailia; we have a lot of work to do and she is safer with me.” He snapped his phone shut and leaned against the wall.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice tentative and quiet.

  I lo
oked at him before turning away, fixing my eyes on the ceiling.

  “I’m sorry, Joclyn.” His voice was deep and soothing, but I brushed his condolences away. I just wanted to be mad. “Everything will be alright, Silnỳ.”

  I just nodded at him; I didn’t trust myself to say anything polite.

  “We are going to be staying here for a week, maybe two, so make yourself comfortable. But please, stay inside. It’s not safe to go out right now.”

  I nodded again, my head falling to the side, looking blankly at nothing. Ilyan smiled sadly at me before leaving, calling behind him his plans to take a shower. I heard the door click and desperately hoped there was another bathroom I could hide in; somewhere I could lock the door. Judging by the fact that I could see the kitchen from the bed I lay in, I wasn’t holding out much hope.

  “I’m sorry, Ryland. I failed you.”

  My head was throbbing. I focused on the pain until a new throbbing interrupted me.

  The necklace was beating.

  I sat up in one movement, desperately clawing at the fine chain around my neck. I didn’t care about what Ilyan had told me; I didn’t care about the danger. I just needed to see him, to know he was okay. I plunged my magic into the necklace, the efforts draining me. I closed my eyes as I fell back against the bed, the white room appearing before me.

  “Ryland! Ryland!” I called out the second I entered the open space.

  “Yes?” I spun around, eager to face him, and saw nothing.

  “Who are you?” a little voice asked.

  I gasped, falling to my knees as my eyes came level with his. My heart broke as I looked at him. He was only a child, younger even than when I had first met him. My hand flew to my mouth as I sobbed, his blue eyes growing wide at my reaction.

  “It’s okay,” his little voice was soft as he placed his small hand on my shoulder. “Are you hurt? I can make it all better; my mommy says I am very good at making things all better.” He smiled widely, his mop of curls bouncing.

  I just shook my head no.

  “Are you scared then? I get scared sometimes. The cook, Marie, taught me a song about whistling that takes the scares away. Do you want to hear it?”

  I shook my head no; there were fewer tears, now. I was gaining control, trying desperately to ignore the heartbreak.

  “I’m... just... sad...” I choked out.

  “Why?”

  “I lost someone very important to me, someone I love.”

  “Who?”

  “My very best friend.”

  “Oh.” He paused and dug his toe into the ground. “I don’t have any friends. You can be my friend if you would like.” He was so eager, so much like he had been that first day when we had met.

  “I would like that very much.”

  “I’m Ryland.” He stuck out his hand; I took it eagerly, expecting something to happen, my heart breaking when nothing did.

  “Joclyn.”

  “Joss-Lyn. What a pretty name,” he giggled, his body shaking.

  I couldn’t even bring myself to smile.

  Ryland looked at me with all the innocence, all the sparkly-eyed, new-world wonderment a young child has—a child who has known no pain and felt no heartbreak.

  “You have very pretty eyes,” he said softly. “They look like diamonds.”

  Hearing those words steeled something through me. Ilyan was right, all of the pain and agony of before buzzed through me, becoming a fuel for the determination that set my jaw and spine into firm lines.

  Edmund had done this.

  Edmund was going to pay.

  And I was going to be the one to do it.

  Fifty-Six

  Joclyn

  ‘I am going to kill Edmund LaRue.’

  The words rang like a battle call in my head, the conviction growing stronger by the minute.

  The thought had started as a mere ember of possibility when I had seen Edmund wipe the last of my best friend Ryland’s memories two nights ago, and Ilyan had grabbed me and dragged me away.

  Being forced to leave the one person in the world that I loved had snapped something deep inside of me, which caused the thought to grow; the ember growing into a spark.

  That spark promised me that I would be the one to kill Edmund. He had destroyed my best friend, the one person left for me to love. He had destroyed his own son. I would make him pay for that.

  The spark became a flame when I went back and visited Ryland in our space between dream and reality last night. Inside of our Tȍuha I had seen him as a little boy who looked at me and told me my eyes looked like diamonds. I could feel the flame in me then; an inferno of hatred, desire and power.

  My chosen path was clear, I would be the one to end him.

  Which was why it was so irritating that I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of this bed. It was like I had been drained, or caught a bad flu. Maybe it was a normal reaction after using so much of my magic. The fact that I was heartbroken and had gotten hardly any sleep wasn’t helping either.

  “Silnỳ, it’s time to wake up.” Ilyan’s voice was soft in my ear, his hand soft against the side of my face as his fore finger pressed softly against the mark behind my ear. There was no zing like when Ryland touched me, just warm skin. I pushed his hand away and covered my head with the thick comforter in an attempt to ignore him.

  I couldn’t believe he was so chipper. Not only had we lost in our attempt to rescue his brother, he hadn’t slept. All night long Ilyan had moved around the tiny studio apartment like he was a trapped animal. He made soup, he sat at the table cutting some kind of fabric, at one point he had even made a nest of blankets on the small stretch of floor near the bed. He had laid there, on the phone with Ovailia every hour on the hour, getting updates of who had arrived in Prague. Part of me wanted to be there with Wyn and all the others like me, but the other part reminded me how much danger I was in and how important it was that I stay hidden.

  “Joclyn.” The pressure of Ilyan’s hand increased as he moved it around to rub my back.

  I pulled down the blanket enough to look out at him. His scraggly blonde hair was longer than usual, hanging down to his shoulder blades, his face was full of worry.

  “Ahoj,” he whispered as I emerged from underneath the blankets. “How are you feeling?”

  I closed my eyes, unsure of how to answer him. I was angry, desperate, lost, determined, broken, in pain, furiously plotting murder, and I was sad. It shouldn’t be possible for one person to feel so many emotions at the same time.

  “I hurt,” I said, my voice cracking with uncertainty.

  “Where?” he asked, alarmed.

  “In my heart.” It was the best response I could come up with. While my heart did hurt, it was more than that. Everything inside me was shattered. Rather than a broken heart, this felt more like I had broken everything. My heart was constricted, but around it, my whole body felt tight and as though it was bound together with hot wire.

  “I feel the need for lethargic revenge.”

  It shouldn’t be a thing, yet here we were.

  “I know how you feel.”

  “You know how lethargic revenge feels?” I gave him a look, and Ilyan chuckled with a light sound that could have been magic all on its own. He continued rubbing his hand against my spine, the pressure somewhat dulled through the blankets.

  “Edmund has taken something away from me, too, Silnỳ. Ryland was my brother as much as he was your friend; your mate. I can’t help but feel that I failed you as much as I failed him.”

  “I failed him, too. I failed you. I failed everyone.” I pushed the blanket away from myself as the frustration of what I was saying hit me. “All you asked me to do was get him out, and I couldn’t even do that.”

  I cringed at how bitter my voice sounded, how angry each syllable tasted against my tongue. I had mulled over the ‘what-ifs’ from the second we left him behind. What if I knew more magic, did more? It was pointless.

  I shifted my weight as I repositione
d myself to sit, the pressure in my unwilling joints building as I moved. Ilyan reached out to help me as my back seized and I swayed, my body torn between crying, yelling, and falling over.

  “You didn’t fail, Silnỳ,” Ilyan’s hand moved from mine to rest against the skin of my cheek. His touch was hot with the warmth of the powerful magic that pulsed underneath his skin. Ilyan kept his ability restrained inside of him, just the opposite of Ryland who had comforted and healed me with every touch.

  Ilyan caressed my cheek, letting his fingers trail behind my ear to rest on my mark. He kept his hand there, his eyes wide as he looked into mine. “Everything happens for a reason, Silnỳ. Perhaps we must move through this trial to meet our true purpose.” His voice had taken on the regal air that was so fitting for him as the ruler of the protectors of magic, the Skȓítek. I cringed against his tone.

  “True purpose,” I repeated, shocked to feel the flame within me grow stronger.

  “What do you want to do, Joclyn? What is your true purpose?” Ilyan asked softly.

  His words were like gasoline on an open flame. They burned and smoldered inside of me, igniting the need for revenge, making it stronger. The web of heartbreak and confusion shattered, the remaining fragments swallowed up by my growing determination. I already knew the answer to this one.

  “I want to avenge Ryland. I want to be the one to destroy Edmund LaRue.” My voice rang clear through the apartment, the power behind it causing Ilyan’s eyes to widen in shock.

  “You want to fight?” Ilyan asked.

  “Yes. And none of this flying away stuff. I want you to teach me to fight back.”

  “I promise, I will teach you everything you need to know,” Ilyan replied as my nerves jumped in anticipation. I could feel my soul piecing itself back together with the thought.

  “Everything?” I was skeptical.

  “Yes, Silnỳ. You need to know everything. Before, I had wanted to keep you safe, and I foolishly hoped that by bringing you and Ryland together that I would be able to unlock your true ability away from Edmund. It was very foolish of me. But now, Ryland has lost his memories of you and become his father’s puppet. He is now only a weapon at Edmund’s disposal. Ryland, as he is now, will stop at nothing to hunt you down and kill you Joclyn. If you wish to be the one to avenge him, you must prepare.”