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

by Ethington, Rebecca

  The sound of the collapsing mountain had grown so loud that I could barely hear anything above it. I shifted Joclyn’s body up, leaving her dangling over my shoulder as we ran, praying that the space where we were heading would be free of the horrors we had just left.

  It seemed intact enough to keep us safe.

  I turned to face what little was left of the beautiful cave. The palms of my hands came to rest on the cold stone that lined the dark hallway, the strong pulse of natural magic whirled, pulling at me before being sent back to speed through the mountain alongside my own. I closed my eyes as I focused, my magic pushed into the rock, shoving it away. There was no way I could stop the destruction, but I could slow it down, stop what hadn’t already happened.

  I felt the shifting of the rock slow, the mountain answering to my call. I continued to push against it, sweat forming underneath my long hair as I forced the mountain to do what I wanted.

  Boulders moved back into place, rocks piled up against others, and I heated and fused the rocks back together in a desperate attempt to stabilize the mountain. My mind moved each hulking mass quickly, stopping the fall in one place only to have it start in another. Even with the speed that my ability gave me, I wasn’t going to be able to do enough to keep our way out free of more obstruction.

  I refused to give up.

  Slowly, the groaning stopped, the crashing of rocks ceased, and quiet filled the air. I kept my hands flat against the stone as my magic moved back inside of me.

  I didn’t dare move, not yet. I stood still, waiting for the groaning to return. I could feel Joclyn’s jolts against my back, her frantic movements cutting at my soul.

  “Ilyan?” I didn’t even move at Dramin’s voice. I remained still, waiting, needing to know that the mountain wasn’t going to continue its attempt to bury us alive.

  “Is it safe back there?” I asked through gritted teeth, still not looking toward him.

  “Yes.”

  I felt his body only a step away from me, his energy pulsing through the air. I focused on his energy, my nerves tingling as I felt his arms rise, presumably to lift Joclyn from my back.

  “Leave her.” My voice was hard.

  Dramin’s arms dropped, but he did not move. The minutes ticked by until I was sure that the mountain had ceased its implosion.

  I shifted Joclyn’s weight into my arms, her head lolling over my elbow as I walked past Dramin, his eyes hooded with concern and fear as he followed me into the bare cavern. Before, it had been used for training, now it would be used as our home. At least, until I could find us a way out of here.

  “What happened?” Thom yelled in a panic the moment I walked into the room, his words followed by profanities that no man should be aware of.

  “Napadli Joclyn.” They are attacking.

  “What do you mean they are attacking her, Ilyan?” Thom yelled, his anger boiling out of him. “Your girlfriend just tore apart the cave and trapped us underground!”

  I could feel the confusion and anger emanating off both of them as their magic peaked and their stress heightened the magical flow inside of them.

  I wasn’t focused on the gentle flow and pulse of Thom and Dramin right now. I was focused on the fact that I felt nothing from Joclyn. Her undercurrent was there, but the actual strength seemed smothered. It was more than when Edmund had been limiting her power through the necklace and worse than when her magic was dying. The thrum I felt now was weaker than when I had first felt her magical pull before her powers had even awakened.

  My magic pulsed into her through the Štít, and thankfully this time, it flooded her. The strong barrier that had prohibited me from so much as calming her before was now weak and breakable between us like spun candy.

  I scanned her body for the thin connecting line of the Tȍuha, my body freezing when I found nothing. I pushed into her, letting my magic fill her to every corner, the full extent of my power was enough to kill any other, I knew it should at least cause her pain. Joclyn just lay there. I searched for the bridge to her mind, for injuries, for warning signs, for spells and curses—but found nothing.

  I dropped to my knees, keeping her body in my lap, keeping her close.

  “She is being attacked in the Tȍuha,” I provided, knowing I had to give them some sort of explanation as to what in the world had just happened.

  “Ryland?” Thom accused, his angry voice bitter.

  “No.”

  “Then who?” Thom’s voice faded off as he asked the question because he knew. We all knew. We had all heard her retelling of Ryland as a black-eyed man, of how Cail was controlling her dreams. This wasn’t a dream, however, and I didn’t know how to wake her up. I didn’t know how to help her. Somehow, Cail’s control had moved into the Tȍuha.

  “So, she attacked him in the Tȍuha and almost killed us?” I couldn’t tell if Thom was angry or concerned. “Is she going to do it again? Can’t you just wake her up?”

  “I can’t find the bridge to her mind, Thom. I’ve been looking.”

  “How long ago did she go in?” Dramin asked, the confusion in his voice triggering my own.

  “Ten minutes,” I provided, knowing the short amount of time would sound silly. It did to me.

  It wasn’t just the time that she had been in there that had triggered my alarm; it was her actions, what had happened to her body. I felt my lungs constrict in stress as I looked at the still wet specks of blood around her mouth.

  My hands pressed one of hers against the blood on my bared chest, against the dozens of scars that lined my skin. The pain flared through my chest at the pressure against the scars, the same way it had always done. I looked at our hands before dragging my eyes back to her face.

  “How is he doing it?” Dramin asked, letting the unspoken name float between us.

  “I don’t know. But I will find out.” I looked up to the two men, looking from the deep sea green of Dramin’s eyes, to the crystalline blue of Thom’s—the color our father had cursed us with, the color of royalty.

  The necklace Ryland had given Joclyn still hung around her neck, the large ruby glistening. No, not a ruby, I reminded myself. A diamond. I touched the stone lightly, knowing what it meant to her, but right then, I hated it. I hated what it had come to represent.

  It had been the bridge to his mind.

  My heart rate increased as I stared at the jewel, my breathing stuttering as I attempted to control myself. Before I could stop myself, I wrapped my fingers around the necklace, breaking the clasp as I ripped it away from her neck.

  I waited, waited for her to wake, waited for the bridge to make itself known, but she stayed as still as ever, the necklace dead and cold in my hands. I pocketed it quickly, returning my hand to her face.

  “Why didn’t that work?” Dramin asked, his voice making it obvious that he had already known it would not.

  “He has been controlling her dreams through a blood connection, but a Tȍuha? I didn’t even know that was possible. I have never seen anything like this before, Dramin.” I gave them as much of an answer as I felt comfortable giving, keeping my voice an emotionless mask.

  “I have.”

  One Hundred Twelve

  Joclyn

  I ran into the mansion without looking back. I knew Cail was serious. I needed to get away from him as fast as possible and figure out a way to get out of here before Cail found and killed me.

  A few steps into the house, I tripped on broken bits of carpet that had been pulled up, burned away, or maybe eaten by some form of rodent. I caught myself, picking my feet up in my run and quickening my pace. I sped through the house, taking the path I had traveled almost every day of my life until last May; the path that would take me to Ryland’s room.

  Sparks of my magic dripped from my fingers on my command, little bits that I would hope would give Ilyan warning to what was happening.

  What was coming.

  I was going to need to use my magic, and if I could get him away from me I could have a chance
. Although, knowing him, he would just move closer.

  Damn him! The chivalrous bastard! Why did he have to be so… good…

  My heart thumped loudly as something told me to stop, my breath catching at the overwhelming sensation. I stopped dead, clutching my shoulder, hoping to find Ilyan’s warmth inside of me but still finding nothing. I kept my hand there as I thought through what I was doing, what I was going to do, something unsettling deep in my gut telling me to hide.

  I had gone right to where Cail would expect me to go; which means this would be a trap. I backed up a few steps, I needed to figure out what to do before I came face to face with him.

  I dropped my hand from opening the door to Ryland’s hall and instead sunk into what I knew would be a supply closet. Cail had given me a ten minute head start, surely five of that had already passed. I had five extra minutes to hide or five minutes to find my way out. That was, if Cail chose to wait the full ten, which I doubted.

  I closed the door to the closet behind me as softly as I could. I would know in a few minutes if Cail would come right here in his attempt to track me down or if he would begin his search elsewhere. It all came down to how well he knew me.

  Or thought he did.

  I needed to be smart about how I handled this, the faster I got out of here the better. I sent out a few more magical sparks, still trying to warn Ilyan. Without being able to use magic to defend myself, I was limited as to what I could do and how fast I could leave. If Ilyan was paying attention to the sparks I could just go back and blast Cail’s dumb guard on his head. I just didn’t know if it was worth the risk.

  My eyes were trained on the dim light that was filtering in through the crease in the door while I attempted to keep my mind off the scurrying feet and other noises that were filling the small room. I had only waited a minute before heavy footfalls filled the air, the impact of them rattling bins and boxes of who knows what in my hiding space. The sound grew louder as Cail ran down the hall, tracing my exact steps. I slunk away from the door, holding my breath in terror. My back hit against a shelf, causing moldy towels and mouse feces to fall over my head. My mouth opened in expectation of a scream, but I shoved my fist heavily into it, desperate to keep myself quiet.

  If I was going to fight, I needed surprise on my side.

  His footsteps stopped, and I knew I had made too much noise. As quietly as I could, I shoved myself into a corner, placing my body as much behind one of the large shelving units as possible. I cringed as my foot stepped on something soft, and I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about what it could be.

  As soon as I had moved myself into the corner, the door flew open. I flattened my body even further against the soft, damp wall, hoping that I was back enough that he wouldn’t see me. The light from the open door caught the eyes of more than a dozen large rats, each lifting their head in expectation.

  The light illuminated the stacks of molding towels and mildewed sheets that were dotted with feces and cleaning supplies which had rusted through their containers leaving glistening patches of dried chemicals underneath them. Everything lit up as Cail stood with the door open, his breath flowing through the room in silent puffs.

  I kept my breath trapped inside me, focusing on random objects around me so as not to think about the pain that was seeping through my chest. My eyes widened when they came to rest on a long, rusty length of pipe hidden in the piles of rot.

  I kept my eyes on the pipe as I listened to Cail’s breathing, trying to ignore the earsplitting pressure from my lungs. My body screamed at me for air, and I screamed back that he would kill me.

  The door slowly closed, the sound of the hinge grinding through my brain and making the movement feel even slower. I waited to breathe, but his footsteps did not retreat. He was standing right on the other side of the door waiting for me. He knew I was in here.

  Cail was playing his game.

  Everything inside of me was begging for air. I took a step forward, my feet soft against the floor, and reached out and wrapped my hands around the pipe, the metal cold and slimy underneath my fingers. I gripped it firmly, moving it up like a bat as I surged my magic through it. If I couldn’t use my ability as a weapon against him, then I would use it to increase the power of a weapon.

  I closed my eyes.

  Please don’t let Ilyan still be next to me. Please don’t let this actually move through into the real world.

  My breath released as I swung the pipe forward, aiming it where Cail would be standing on the other side of the door. My magic filled the metal, making it grow red as it prepared to explode through the door and hopefully Cail.

  The shadow of Cail’s feet shifted as the pipe made contact with the door, the rotted wood falling away from the impact. I had expected to hit Cail, but instead the pipe sliced through empty air. My eyes widened in confusion before a long-fingered hand wrapped around the pipe, and with one pull, yanked it through the door, my body following as I futilely held on.

  I stumbled through the shards of wood, my feet barely keeping me upright before the hand moved from the pipe to my arm, the grip digging into my skin as Cail pulled me against him.

  “Joclyn, Joclyn, Joclyn. You are going to make this far too fun, aren’t you?” I cringed away from Cail’s brittle breath in my nostrils.

  “I wouldn’t call this fun, but if that’s the word you choose...” I gritted my teeth and moved closer to him, hoping to catch him off guard.

  Cail’s eyes widened in excitement before I slammed my knee in between his legs, his body toppling over me before I grabbed the pipe and hit the metal against his back with as much force as I could muster.

  I didn’t wait to see if I had done any damage. I turned and ran from him, the pipe in front of me like a sword. I had just begun turning a corner when I felt Cail’s magic wrap around me, his power dragging me back and slamming me against a wall.

  I cringed as Cail limped up to me, a string of profanity flowing from him as he rubbed his neck. His magic held me tightly against the wall, rendering my pipe useless. I racked my brain for options as he moved toward me. I had already been trapped inside of the Tȍuha for the last twenty minutes by my best guess, meaning it had only been a few minutes in the real world if my math was right. I sent up a few more sparks, letting them look like threats to Cail.

  Cail came up beside me, his one hand resting against the wall by my head while the other massaged his neck where the pipe had made contact.

  “You naughty little girl,” he said, his lip turned up a wicked grin. “Now I see what Ryland was talking about.”

  “What? That I am strong enough to defeat you?” I raised my eyebrow, hoping to sound confident even though I knew that the shake of fear in my voice gave me away.

  What little bravado I had used for my façade faded away as Cail began to laugh, his loud voice ricocheting around the hallway.

  “No,” he taunted, my muscles tensing, “that you need to be trained.”

  I sent out the tiniest bit of an attack toward him, my hands open as my magic exploded, only to die when the pipe collided with my stomach. The impact raced through my body, vibrating up my spine and ricocheting through my skull. I screamed out at the impact as Cail’s binds left me, and I collapsed to the ground.

  I didn’t have time to run or even move before the pipe impacted my spine. Once. Twice. It sent me sprawling. I screamed out and little flecks of blood flew from my mouth, splattering the ground with glistening red.

  “Will you look at that?” Cail mused as he kneeled beside me. “Blood. I bet Ilyan is having a conniption. I can almost hear him, ‘Oh, my love! Why are you bleeding!’” Cail’s voice went high as he mocked Ilyan, I barely heard him. If I was bleeding in real life, Ilyan wouldn’t be by me. Ilyan would be running for Dramin.

  I didn’t wait to think. I focused my magic on the floor right below Cail, sending a pulse directly at it. The floor exploded at the impact, sending him hurtling through the fissure I had opened.

  I struggled
to my feet, limping around the hole as I raced back toward the kitchen, terrified that Cail would return before I could get out.

  Silently, I prayed that Ilyan wasn’t hurt; but thankfully that attack should have been enough to warm him. I could get out. I just needed to get back to the kitchen.

  Cail’s scream echoed behind me, and I dodged into Ryland’s room, hiding in the shattered remains of Ryland’s kitchenette. I sat still, letting my body heal me so that I could run, so that I could fight and get out of here. I let my magic run through me, feeling more than one broken bone.

  So, fighting him may not have been such a good idea. While I was more than powerful enough to do away with Cail, I still needed to be careful so that I didn’t collapse the cave...

  “What are you doing here?” My head snapped up at the voice, relaxing to see Ryland towering over me.

  “Ryland?” Everything in me relaxed until I registered the panic on his face and the anger lines on his forehead.

  “I warned you, Jos. You’ve got to get out of here.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up, not saying anything before dragging me behind him and out the door.

  We moved back toward the main kitchen, our feet slipping and catching on debris. Before we had gotten too close to the kitchen a loud rumble shook the floors ahead of us. Cail was already there. Ryland deviated, pulling us out of the servants’ quarters and into the main living space.

  Large, rumbling bangs sounded through the house as we moved. It reminded me of when we had fled this place leaving Ryland behind during the battle. I had just caught sight of the main ballroom before Ryland dragged me into a large office, shutting the door behind us.

  The door had barely clicked shut before he turned back to me, the anger on his face now mixed with fear.

  “What are you doing here? I told you to break the bond.” Ryland’s hand shook as he moved hair away from my face, his eyes staying on mine for a moment before darting around the room. The movement of his eyes and the shake of his hand put me one edge, his paranoia contagious.