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 to react to the steam that way. Something to help settle my nerves, I was sure. The hot mist seemed to fill my head and I swayed again, my hands clenching the sink in an effort to steady myself.
I turned the cold water tap of the sink on with one quick movement, bringing my hand back to its position against the counter to keep myself upright. The water flowed over the ruby, removing bits of blood that swirled down the drain. I let it flow for a minute before shutting it off, leaving the necklace to sit in the bottom of the sink, some blood still attached to the smooth surface.
I slunk out of my pants and stumbled into the shower. My stomach shifted, the lack of contents adding to my swirling world.
I fell into the small shower. The 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 singed away the dirt and rubble from what used to be Ryland’s home. The heat moved into me as if it was trying to thaw the emotion out of me.
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. 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 sure 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, a jolt of pain searing down my spine. I yelled out on impact and frantically tried to right myself. 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 heard me, and 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. I pulled the hoodie down, my body collapsed again as the door was flung open, allowing Ilyan to tumble into the room, his 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.
“Yes,” he grimaced, “I just hope I did it right. I think the influx of protein might help you.”
Ilyan placed me at one of the chairs at the tiny table. 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.
Two
“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 groaned. 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 eye lids 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 sat 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.
“You are asking me questions I do not know the answers to,” 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 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 now 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 said. I shifted a bit, but decided against any larger movements as my body protested again.
“What happened, Joclyn?” Ilyan asked, “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 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. And though it was not the magic I wished for, it still helped.
“Are you going to heal me, Ilyan?”
“I’ve been trying, Silnỳ. I am not sure I can.” My eyes grew wide and my
heart raced. His magic surged again and my nerves calmed.
“Trying?” I repeated, my eyes falling to the dark spot on the carpet. “What happened, Ilyan?”
Ilyan’s line of sight traced mine, and I saw him stiffen at 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 bleeding?” I asked, confused.
“It’s the only way I know how to explain it. Something formed on your skin. It poured out of your eyes and ears.” Ilyan looked away and closed his eyes. I could feel his 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 deep into me, the intensity of his gaze like a pressure against my soul.
“I guess not,” he said, his hand moving to trace the lines of the braid.
“I heard what you said to Ovailia,” I said. 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?” I let my question trail away, not knowing what to ask, but needing clarification.
“My magic is stronger than most, Joclyn. Most of the time it floods into another person and at times I have trouble controlling my own strength. 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. But regardless of whether I was normally powerful or not, I still couldn’t reach my magic right now.
“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. But, if Ryland has broken that connection…” Ilyan paused and dragged his hand heavily through his hair, his eyes darting away from me.
“He’s broken…” My voice caught as the air sucked itself out of my lungs. The Ryland I knew 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 once before, when my Mother died. 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.
“I believe so.”
“And you can’t save me this time?” Panic clenched my stomach, spreading pain deep into my legs. I ignored it. “Ilyan?”
“I am trying, Silnỳ. There are normally ways around this, but nothing is working.”
His eyes were shining with tears and 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.”
I couldn’t look at him anymore. I couldn’t cope with seeing him cry over me. I didn’t want to.
I rolled away from him, calling out as the pain engulfed my body again. Ilyan helped to move me and lifted the blanket over me.
“Sleep, Joclyn. You need your strength.”
I barely registered that the flow of his magic had changed before I was plunged into the black abyss of sleep.
I had been here before.
I had stood in the center of this clearing a hundred times. I had looked up into these trees and watched their long arms stretch to the sky in hopeful longing. I watched them now, and although they were the same, something was terrifyingly different. Perhaps it was the color, or the way the branches cut a jagged edge into the night sky. Whatever it was, it made my heart stutter.
A thick mist swirled around my legs, picking up the light-weight cotton of my pajama pants. It crept over the forest floor in a dense cloud that wet my bare feet and made the forest floor look like a living thing with its rise and flow.
I heard a deep growl behind me and my body tensed, although I didn’t dare to turn. There was a pause as the mist continued to roll and swell before the growl returned accompanied by warm putrid breath against my ear. The deep sound rumbled through me as the fog swelled, the owner’s hard chest rippled against my back.
“Hello, Joclyn.”
Cail.
The fog took on substance, the sound of his breathing freezing me for a second. I could almost feel his warmth, his excitement, rippling off of him and increasing my fear. I felt his magic pulse, one influx of energy reverberating through the heavy sludge of magic inside of me. It was enough to serve as a warning. So I ran.
My feet carried me swiftly out of the clearing, plunging me into the pitch dark of the forest. I ran as my eyes adjusted to the black and starless night. The trees flew by me as I picked up speed, my own magic attempting to carry me faster. I could still hear his foot falls behind me, the crunch of the dying plant life as he passed, marking his progress.
He was getting closer, his breathing louder, almost right behind me.
“Run Joclyn, run to my master!” he yelled from behind me, but I barely heard him. I picked up my pace and ran faster, only to feel the world around me shift and change. As I slowed in confusion, I could feel carpet under my dirty feet and the air no longer smelled so crisp and vibrant. Everything here was dying.
I looked down the hall. Once again I was in a place I knew, but nothing about it was quite right. The cream colored walls were dirty and covered with black spider webs of soot and flame, the carpet burned away in giant patches. Part of the wall to my right had been blown away, leaving a gaping hole into the night sky.
I walked along the burnt fragments of carpet toward the door, a door I had entered almost every day of my life – Ryland’s. My heart thudded angrily in my chest as I moved closer, the slab of wood dangling by one hinge.
I ducked underneath it into his room, unsurprised to see the space gutted by flame. Embers still glowed in the corner where fragments of his bed were scattered. I stepped cautiously around the partition to where his big squishy couch sat. The sofa was torn into pieces that lay haphazardly around the space, exposed stuffing melted into the carpet and walls.
“Jos,” Ryland’s tender voice spoke from behind the battered couch. “You came.”
I stepped around the couch, my feet guiding me to him.
“Ryland!” I almost threw myself into him. He was broken and bruised, the way I last saw him. His body crumpled in on itself as he fought for control over his mind.
Burrowed into a bit of the broken couch and sections of his collapsed closet, embers of a still burning fire glowed near him, the light shimmering in his hair. I sat next
to him, careful to avoid the smoldering and broken bits of the room around him.
“What did you do to your hair, Jos? I always loved your hair.”
“My hair is long again, Ryland. See.” I pulled the braid Ilyan had given me around so he could see, but his eyes were focused somewhere off in the distance, his arms lifted slightly as if he was reaching for something.
“…Steal the car…” His voice faded in and out before he slumped even further. His body giving out as his arms fell. I grabbed at him, summoning the sludge inside of me, determined to get him out of there. My hands shook as I looked around, my heart pulsing frantically. But ultimately, I knew there was nothing I could do.
“What? Not going to save your love?” I froze at Edmund’s voice, my body tensing.
“Edmund,” I gasped, moving closer to Ryland in fear.
“Go on,” he taunted, his voice deep and menacing. “Save him. Let me see how powerful you are.”
I refused to take my eyes off Edmund. He was right there – right in front of me. My magic may have been useless, thick and stagnant inside of me, but my heart beat heavier and my desire for revenge grew. I looked away from him to grab a small burning stick and hurl it at him, hoping that my weak attack would at least let him know that I was willing to fight.
“Now, now,” Edmund said, “none of that. After all, what’s the point of your useless weapons when I possess the most powerful weapon of all?”
“Miss me beautiful?” Ryland’s twisted voice whispered beside me and I spun to face him. My stomach plummeted as I came face to face with the pitch black eyes of Ryland. The Ryland who had lost his fight with his father, whose memory had been erased.
“No!” True terror filled me at seeing him.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Ryland’s hands pulled me to him and lifted the back of my sweater, letting his hand come in contact with my skin. I began to scream in fear as his magic rushed into me the second I felt his cold touch. It flowed in an angry wave that spread to the very tips of my toes and lasted a moment before it began to sweep out of me again. As the heat left, so did my magic.
Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2) Page 2