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

by Ethington, Rebecca

  “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” I nodded once and moved to jump up. I nearly laid back down with how everything spun. Ilyan squared his jaw and stood to face me, his hand extended toward me.

  “Come, Silnỳ. Let’s begin.” Ilyan pulled me to standing, my joints swelling in subtle pain as I moved. I stood facing him, defying the agony of my long-inactive body. I had only been standing for a moment before I knew something was wrong. My head swam and my body felt like it was turning on the spot, even though I knew I wasn’t moving. My balance left from the crazy motion, and I fell sideways. Ilyan’s arms reached out to catch me just in time.

  “Are you all right?” Ilyan asked. The alarm in his voice surprised me. I nodded my head, the room spinning less and less.

  “Yeah, just tired.” Not that I was going to let that stop me.

  “Hmm. Well, perhaps we should do this in the correct order. You look a mess.” His voice was low, as if even he didn’t believe his words. His grip on my elbow tightened as we began to move, obviously worried I would fall again.

  When he looked at me, his forehead crinkled before grabbing one of the half-filled glasses of water that he had been forcing me to drink from for days.

  After I drank, Ilyan walked me toward the small bathroom. I looked behind me reluctantly to where the small double bed was pushed into a corner. A sliding glass door was at the foot of the bed and the tiny kitchen was on the other wall. The only floor space to speak of was between the bed and kitchen, but most of that had been taken up by Ilyan’s makeshift bed.

  It was a tissue box that someone had mistaken for a studio apartment. The idea of spending any amount of time in this claustrophobic space was nauseating; sharing it with another person was terrifying.

  “I want you to take a shower. There are clothes in the bathroom for you.”

  Sure enough, sitting on the counter in the bathroom was a small pile of clothes, including a black hoodie I had never seen before.

  “Where is Ryland’s hoodie?” I asked, unsurprised by my alarm.

  “It’s gone, Joclyn. When we failed, many of our number fled to the Motel. They were followed. Anything that was left there was destroyed out of necessity.”

  My heart sunk and my head swam, Ilyan’s hold on my elbow increased as I swayed again.

  “Maybe now is not the time for a shower,” he said.

  I looked down. My shirt consisted of merely scraps of fabric and my stomach was covered by dried blood and ash. My mind flashed back to memories of the other night; to Ryland digging a tiny blade into my chest. I swallowed hard, willing the tears to stay away.

  “Now is fine.” I needed to wash more than the blood away.

  “Good, but first...”

  Ilyan placed his hand against my face, his eyes boring into mine as he pushed his magic into me. I wondered what he was doing, but he only smiled at me, his blue eyes twinkling. My head began to prickle as his magic congregated there, causing my hair to grow back to how it had been before.

  Ilyan removed his hand. I turned to look at myself in the mirror. Dark black make-up was still smeared all over my face, my bright silver eyes twinkling among the smudges, but my hair was black, straight, and long again—maybe even a bit longer than it had been originally.

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course,” he said as he turned on the steaming water before moving toward the door. “Enjoy your shower. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you when you get out.”

  The door clicked shut behind him and I spun around to the sink. My reflection was staring at me through the mirror, my mouth opening in shock at the haggard face that looked back. All my battle wounds were still visible and much of my body was covered with dried blood. I ripped off what was left of my shirt and followed the trail of dried blood up to a small scar that now lay over my heart.

  A small line of raised skin stood out where Ryland had stabbed me, in his attempt to kill me. The scar was rough from the quick healing Ryland had done in the brief time that he had regained control of his body. That had been the last time he was himself, before his mind had been erased forever.

  I ripped my eyes away from the scar to the ruby necklace that hung around my neck; another gift from him. I reached up and grabbed it, removing the chain from around my neck, and scraped off the blood that had dried onto the beautiful ruby.

  I hadn’t touched the stone since I had used it to enter the Tȍuha last night. It had been the final proof that Ryland, as I knew him, was gone.

  I threw the necklace into the sink, the stone clinking loudly against the porcelain. I didn’t want to enter the Tȍuha ever again, yet seeing it there in the sink made me want to snatch it back up and keep it safe.

  The bathroom had filled with the steam from the shower and I was surrounded by the sweet smelling fog. It smelled vaguely of plant life, making me wonder what Ilyan had placed in here. Something to help settle my nerves, I was sure. The hot mist filled my head and I swayed as I slunk out of my pants and stumbled into the shower.

  Hot water scalded my skin, but I didn’t care. I let the water run over me as it burned the heavy makeup off of my face, washed the ash and blood from my body, and scrubbed away the dirt and rubble from what had been Ryland’s home. The heat moved into me as if it was trying to thaw the emotion out.

  I leaned against the side of the shower, breathing deeply in an effort to regain some stability.

  It wasn’t working.

  The spinning was only increasing as I looked at the faucet of the shower, trying to focus on it to steady myself. The silver fixture moved, spun, and duplicated itself, even though I was certain I was holding still.

  My eyes closed as I breathed in the steam, hoping that somehow the dizziness would leave. It got worse. I was forced to stumble out of the shower, hair unwashed, only to have my foot catch on the shower curtain and send me slamming into the ground.

  My shoulder impacted hard on the tiles while a jolt of pain seared down my spine. I yelled out on impact and frantically tried to right myself, however the dizziness expanded, and I collapsed back onto the floor. The cool tiles under my skin seemed to clear my mind a bit, so I focused on them.

  “Joclyn!” Ilyan yelled through the door, his voice panicked. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” My voice was muffled by the tile. I wasn’t sure Ilyan had heard me seeing as he continued to pound on the door. I tried again, but his panicked yelling drowned out my voice. Great, he was going to barge in and I was lying naked in the middle of the bathroom floor.

  I forced myself up and grabbed the hoodie and pajama pants from the counter, pulling them on over my damp body. Right at the moment that I pulled the hoodie down, my body collapsed again as the door was flung open, allowing Ilyan to tumble into the room, blonde hair swinging.

  “Joclyn!” he yelled.

  “I’m here.”

  I was surprised by how weak my voice was. I knew I wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t think it was that bad. I shook my head hoping that the dizziness would leave, but it only got worse.

  Ilyan kneeled down next to me. His hands flew to my cheeks, his magic plunging into me as he checked for any injuries.

  “I’m fine, Ilyan.” I batted his hand away from me, breaking the connection.

  “Are you sure?” His accent was so thick, I barely understood him.

  I nodded, but I was starting to wonder if I really was. This was beginning to feel more like I was being drained than a dehydrated dizziness. It was as if someone was reaching inside me and scrambling everything together.

  Ilyan wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to standing, his body supporting me as my head continued to spin. I didn’t dare say anything, so I let him lead me out of the bathroom.

  “Bacon?” I asked, surprised at the smell of bacon and eggs that had filled the small living space. Ilyan was a vegan and had eaten no more than fruit or vegetables for the last few centuries. The fact that he would even attempt to make bacon and eggs was humorous as well as heartening.r />
  “Yes,” he grimaced. “I just hope I did it right. I think the influx of protein might help you.”

  Ilyan placed me on one of the chairs at the tiny table where what was surely a full pack of perfectly crisp, browned bacon sat in all its greasy goodness before me. I hadn’t eaten meat in what felt like months and just the smell was making my mouth water.

  “Thank you, Ilyan.” I smiled brightly at him, ignoring the swelling and swimming that was going on inside my brain.

  His eyes were shining joyfully, but it wasn’t only happiness I saw behind his eyes, there was something there I couldn’t quite place. I was trying to figure out what it might be when the swelling in my head grew into something more painful and I called out, clutching my hands to my head.

  I could barely make out Ilyan rushing towards me from the kitchenette; calling to me, yelling for me. The pain continued to grow as my vision blacked out, and the air swirled past me as I fell from the chair.

  I never felt the impact, but on my way down I could have sworn I heard someone laughing.

  Fifty-Seven

  Joclyn

  “Sakra, Ovailia! I don’t know how it happened!”

  Ilyan’s voice woke me up from a deep sleep, and I immediately regretted it. My body hurt and my bones creaked and ached as if they were swelling. My chest fought with every breath, a heavy weight restricting my movements.

  Ilyan yelled something in Czech and I reluctantly opened my eyes. Even my eyelids hurt.

  It was night. The only light in the room came from a small lamp near the balcony that lit up the room eerily with a heavy, yellow glow. The bacon still sat on the table, and the chair I had been sitting in was knocked over. A large, dark stain spread over the carpet nearby. I moved to try and get a better look, but a pressurized pain spread over my skull. I closed my eyes tightly against the threatening migraine.

  “That’s just it, Ovailia, it’s as if her magic has been drained. Normally it’s a suffocating torrent when I try to heal her, but now there is nothing there. Nothing is fighting me.”

  My magic was gone? I reached inside of me and pulled it up as I had been taught to do, but it didn’t respond as usual. It was slow and heavy, like when you move your hand through sludge. Even the attempt to work it up and push it outside of me caused pain.

  “That is why I am calling you. I need you to tell me what to do,” Ilyan spoke harshly before transitioning into Czech again. I shifted my weight again and my back seized up in the exact places I had broken it a few weeks before.

  “Ilyan!” I called out to him. My spine curled, arching itself out in a fan before freezing me in place.

  “I have to go.” I heard the phone click shut, and a moment later Ilyan’s hands pressed against my skin. His magic filled me instantly. It raced through my skin faster than lightning and with more strength than I had ever experienced.

  My eyes opened wide in surprise at his power filling me so aggressively. If the way Ilyan’s magic burned into my body at that moment was any indication as to how powerful he was, I was beginning to understand why he was revered.

  Moments after his hands had touched my skin, my back relaxed and straightened. Some of the bone pain had also left, and I was feeling blissfully relaxed.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice strained.

  “I think so.” I shifted a bit, but decided against any larger movements as my body protested again.

  “What happened, Joclyn? Do you remember anything?”

  “Not really. I remember my head swelling, and then I was falling, and someone was laughing...” I looked to Ilyan, concerned that I sounded like a mad man. He moved aside the thick braid he had obviously placed in my hair and pushed his hand against my neck. My nerves jumped a bit in confusion about what had happened.

  “Someone was laughing? Do you know who?”

  “No,” I whispered.

  Ilyan’s hand still rested against my neck, his magic reaching into every part of me. It was warm and comforting, like a blanket you want to curl into.

  “What’s going on, Ilyan?”

  “I’m trying to figure that out, Silnỳ.” My eyes grew wide and my heart raced until his magic surged again and my nerves calmed.

  “Trying?” I repeated, my eyes falling to the dark spot on the carpet.

  Ilyan’s line of sight traced mine, and I saw him stiffen at the sight of the large, dark splotch. “You fell, and then you began to bleed a dark fluid. It wasn’t blood, but it was foul. Your whole body was shaking. I thought...” He lowered his head, hiding his glistening eyes. “I thought I had lost you.”

  “I was leaking car oil?” I asked, confused.

  “No. But, I suppose that is one way to explain it. Something formed on your skin then poured out of your eyes and ears.” Ilyan looked away and closed his eyes. I could feel the stress rolling off of his body in waves. It added to my fear and I grabbed his wrist, needing some form of connection.

  “It’s okay, Joclyn. You’re going to be okay.” His voice was strong, but I could hear the lie. He didn’t really know if I would be alright, and it scared me.

  “I guess you never should have forced me to get out of bed,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Ilyan’s head snapped up to look deeply into me, the intensity of his gaze like a pressure against my soul.

  “I guess not,” he said with half a smile, his hand moving to trace the lines of the braid.

  “I heard what you said to Ovailia.” Ilyan’s body stiffened as if I had caught him saying something he shouldn’t. “About how my magic isn’t fighting you anymore,” I clarified. He relaxed a bit, surging his powerful tendrils through me again.

  “You are the only one I have ever met who actively fights me, or is strong enough to do so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My magic is stronger than most, Joclyn. Most of the time it floods into another person. There was a time I had trouble controlling my own strength so as not to hurt others. It took me centuries to master the skill. But you have always fought me. You are as powerful as I am it seems.”

  My eyes opened wide as I tried to process what he had said. I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not, his tone could go either way. Regardless of whether I was normally powerful or not, I still couldn’t reach my magic right then.

  “I tried... I tried to use my magic, but it didn’t respond.” Ilyan’s eyes grew wide and my heart thumped again in fear. “What’s happening to me, Ilyan?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I have ideas.”

  “What?”

  “Do you remember at the party?” he asked, and my body stiffened automatically. “When Ryland sealed himself to you, completing the Zȇlství?”

  I didn’t respond. I only stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “When magic is sealed together it is a permanent union. If Edmund has made Ryland break the connection between the two of you, your magic would be separated from half of itself. When one of our kind who has mated dies, they take half of their partner’s magic but leave half of their own behind. Yet, if Ryland has broken that connection…” Ilyan paused and dragged his hand heavily through his hair while his eyes darted away from me.

  “He’s broken…” My voice caught as the air sucked itself out of my lungs. The Ryland I had known was gone, but breaking our bond would mean there was no hope of getting him back. The thought terrified me.

  “So, what makes you think that this could be caused by a broken bond?”

  Ilyan looked away, making me nervous about what he was about to say.

  “Ilyan?”

  “I have seen it before. When my father broke the bond with my mother, he severed her power. With half of her own magic gone and none of my father’s to replace it, her body began to shut down. It would be akin to what happens to humans when an organ in their body does not work. They fade and suffer until they die.”

  “So I am dying,” I cut him off.

  “Not necessarily. There have been other ti
mes that this happened, and both parties survived.”

  “Okay, so let’s do what those guys did.” Panic clenched my stomach, spreading pain deep into my legs. I ignored it. “What do I do, Ilyan?”

  “That’s what I am trying to figure out.” His eyes were shining with tears, boring into me with that same pained look he had before. He moved his hand from my head to rest his fingers against my mark. “I can’t let you die, Silnỳ. I will do everything in my power to stop it.”

  “Well, at least that makes two of us,” I rolled away from him, calling out as the pain engulfed my body again.

  “I need to call Ovailia back,” Ilyan whispered as he covered me with the heavy blanket. “But get some sleep, Joclyn. You need your strength.”

  What was I, an invalid?

  “Like hell if I’m going to sleep. I’m going to kill Edmund if it’s the last thing I do,” I hissed, throwing the covers off me to sit up. Ilyan had offered to teach me how to fight, and like hell if I was going to let this get in my way.

  It was too much, though. My head spun and I sagged back onto the comforter.

  “I know you will, Silnỳ,” Ilyan said, the screen of the phone in his hand going white without him even touching it. “Of that I can promise you. But for now, lay there, perhaps see if you can get your magic to cooperate so that I can teach you.”

  I nodded as he turned away, phone to his ear in quick Czech. Lifting my hand above my lap, I focused on my power, the usual buzz of energy sluggish and slow. Almost as if something was weighing it down.

  It took focus, but as Ilyan’s voice shifted to that commanding tone of his, I felt it react. I watched my fingers, waiting for the spark of light to appear. Instead, it was a drop of black, a liquid ooze that looked a bit too much like car oil.