Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)

by Rebecca Ethington

  “Ryland?” I asked softly. Normally he was right here waiting for me. But no one was here. No running feet. No happy smiling face, just months of masterpieces – destroyed.

  “Ry?”

  I ran through the room filled with smudged and destroyed dreams until I heard him. His little whimper was soft and broken. I ran toward the sound until I found him, hunched against the wall, crying into what was once the drawing of him holding the Vilỳ. He rubbed his fist into the face of the creature, his body shaking with sobs.

  “Ryland?” He spun at my question, his face screwed up in anger.

  “Go away!” He yelled, throwing broken bits of chalk and crayon at me. “I don’t need you anymore!”

  “Ryland? Wha… what happened?”

  “Go away!” he yelled again, his words cutting through me.

  “You don’t mean that, Ry.”

  “Go Away!” He turned away from me, rubbing harder into the blue smudge and turning it into a blur.

  I rushed to him, wrapping my arms around his tiny frame. He fought me off, but I fought back harder. He cried as he fought and pushed away from me. I held on as he battled, his cry getting louder rather than softer as I had been hoping for. His pushing turned to punching and finally I was forced to let him go. He skidded away from me, both of us panting hard. I couldn’t stop looking at him. I didn’t know what had happened, where this had come from.

  “Ryland?”

  “Leave me alone! Go back to wherever you come from and never come back here again!” he screamed at the top of his lungs and backed himself into the wall. I wanted to reach for him, but was scared as to how he would react.

  “I can’t do that, Ryland, you know I can’t do that. I’ll die.” I spoke softly, hoping to calm him down, but mostly because I was scared. I didn’t know how to react or what to say.

  “Then die!”

  “Ryland!” His words cut through me, he couldn’t possibly mean that.

  “You don’t care what happens to me, you don’t care that I am here alone. You don’t care about me. You just want that other guy!”

  “What other guy?” I asked, confused.

  “The one you are waiting for, the one you lost. You think I am him, but I am not. I am just me, and you don’t care!”

  “Ryland, I do care… I…” I pleaded with him quietly, as I tried to piece together the puzzle of his outburst. He interrupted me, his next words like lemon against an open wound.

  “No you don’t! I hate you!”

  “You don’t mean that.” My voice was almost a whisper.

  “Yes, yes I do,” Ryland was losing momentum, his tears were taking over. “I have to.”

  “You have to? Ry, you don’t have to do anything. I know you don’t hate me, so please don’t say that.” I carefully moved closer to him, watching his movements to see how far I could get. He stayed leaning against the wall, crying and watching me get closer.

  “You don’t hate me,” I said, as I carefully placed my hand on his knee to comfort him, but he only cried harder.

  “I have to, Jossy. He said… you don’t…” He stuttered a bit until his voice disappeared.

  “He?”

  “You don’t love me anymore, you love the other guy.” His shoulders shook, and my heart shattered.

  “Of course I love you, Ry. You are my everything.”

  He stared at me, I could see something click together in his mind, and a weak light began to return to his eyes. I took the opportunity and moved closer to him.

  “Really?” His face brightened with hope. I returned the smile and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him to me.

  “Yes, really. I couldn’t live without you, Ry. And I never want to hear you say you hate me, because I know it’s not true.”

  He nodded against me and I squeezed him tighter, grateful when he returned the hug. I held him for much longer than necessary, but I wanted him to calm down, to know the truth of what I said. I wasn’t sure how to communicate that to a child. A hug seemed the simplest way.

  “Now, about this ‘other guy’ I don’t think you are the other guy. I think you are you. I loved your drawing, and I am sorry I didn’t say so. I shouldn’t have said those things before, and I am sorry I did.”

  “Thanks, Jossy.”

  “No problem, little man. Now, I did come bearing good news.”

  “You did?”

  “I did. I get to go to the city tonight.” I smiled brightly, hoping at least one person would be excited for me. Instead, his face fell a little bit.

  “But, I’m still stuck here.”

  I sighed. Obviously this was not the best timing to have told him, given the outburst he just had.

  “How about tomorrow, after I get back, we get rid of our white room and make the city. Then we can have our own adventures; pretend to be superheroes and magicians and anything you want. I’ll spend all day with you if you want.”

  “Really?”

  “I would love to.”

  Ryland’s face lit up like a million fireworks and he crashed against me in a big hug. Giggling like crazy, I reached for him as he jumped up, his face serious again.

  “You’ve gotta go! That way you can bring the city back with you.” He grabbed my hand and heaved until he pulled me to a stand, dragging me toward the door. “I’ll make super hero capes, and villains, and all sorts of stuff.” He jumped up and down a bit before running away, presumably back to where his chalk lay scattered.

  “Bye, Jossy!” he yelled behind him, his focus on his new tasks.

  “Bye, Ry,” I said softly before turning the knob on my exit door, my eyes opening to Ilyan staring right at me.

  Seven

  “Been busy have we?” Ilyan said, his lips pulled up in a half smile.

  “I wouldn’t call it busy.” I pulled myself to standing and stretched my joints out a bit. My body was supercharged after the Tȍuha, but strangely stiff from sitting. I glanced toward the digital clock on the floor. I had been sitting for twenty minutes which meant I had been with Ryland for a little over two hours. We had done the math when I first started having to visit the Tȍuha every day. Two hours in the Tȍuha was equal to about twenty minutes of real time, and it was a good thing it wasn’t the other way around because I needed about forty minutes of real time in the Tȍuha for my body to stay perfectly strong.

  “More like stressful and confusing.”

  “Hmmmm, yes,” Ilyan said, moving away from me. “Ovailia called me.”

  “Great,” I grumbled, dreading his response to my foolish phone call. But instead of yelling, Ilyan only smiled.

  “Don’t worry Silnỳ, despite Ovailia’s best efforts I am not upset with you. I have decided that the one who kept things from me in the first place should be the one to gain the punishments.”

  “So Ovailia’s in trouble?” I said.

  “I don’t know what you qualify as being ‘in trouble’ but she is no longer acting in my stead, that role has been taken over by Talon.”

  “Talon?” While he seemed the obvious choice, something about changing leadership in Prague made me worried.

  “Yes, Silnỳ. This would not be the first time he acted in my name. Many years ago, before Ovailia returned to us, it was expected that Talon would take my place if I was to pass.”

  Ilyan cocked his head to the side and looked at me heavily, his eyes digging into my soul.

  “Why are you worried?” he asked.

  I sighed and joined Ilyan in the kitchen. “I don’t know. Something feels off, like a snake has wound itself up my spine.” Ilyan raised an eyebrow at me, or perhaps at my odd description.

  “Shouldn’t we be running back to Prague right about now? I mean someone is ‘crying’ information about us all over the city.”

  “You mean the bunker?” he asked, his eyebrow still raised.

  “Excuse me?”

  Ilyan narrowed his eyes and pulled out our two juice glasses. “Everyone is confined underground, in the side of a mounta
in, near the city of Prague. When we say Prague we mean our bunker. So someone is going around our underground bunker – not the city – crying and doing who knows what.”

  Everyone had made Prague sound like this wonderful place, but if it was really just hiding under a mountain, it sounded just as terrible as the tiny room I was currently trapped in.

  “Shouldn’t we go back, though? Make sure everything is okay?”

  Ilyan came over to stand next to me. I craned my head to look up at him, his face soft and concerned. He reached out and placed his hand against the side of my face, his fingertips tracing the rough lines of my mark as always. I didn’t move away from him, I didn’t flinch. I only stood there, my heart thumping a bit at the contact.

  “I would if I thought something was wrong, but I am not sure if I do, yet. Talon will be looking into it for me. I will keep you safe Silnỳ that I promise you.”

  “My Protector.” I had barely spoken above a whisper, but he still heard me, making me regret my words. His face darkened as his hand dropped from my face to a tight hold against my elbow.

  “Ah, yes.” He said softly before moving away from me. “That is another thing, please don’t go to Ovailia for answers. I keep things from you because you are not ready to hear them. You will not receive the truths you are looking for from Ovailia. She will only paint a canvas with lies to manipulate you.”

  “If she is going to manipulate me, then why do you trust her?” I had expected him to be angry at my impolite question, instead he only spoke quietly to me.

  “I trust her because of what she has done to redeem herself. I trust her because, out of all of my siblings, she is one who has stood by me. She may not be the best in character, but she is the best on word. So for now, I will trust her.”

  Ilyan’s voice had strengthened into that commanding tone I had grown so used to. I fought the urge to sink into my sweater and hide from him. Instead, I took a deep breath and looked at him firmly.

  “So you will trust her with every bit of information about me, but you will not give me the same information?” I tried to keep my voice level but I was not sure it worked. My anger flared with each word. The darkness in Ilyan’s face faded away, but I barely noticed.

  “I have not told her everything about you, only enough that she understands my position.”

  “Which is...?” I prompted, but Ilyan only raised an eyebrow at me.

  “I will tell you when you are ready, Silnỳ.” Ilyan said simply, which only added to my frustration.

  “Why can’t I be ready now?”

  “Because I am not the one to tell you.”

  “Then who is?” I spat, my hands slamming hard against the countertop.

  “You will know him when you meet him.” Ilyan’s voice raised to match mine, and I cowered, slinking away from him. I was fuming a bit too much, even for my taste.

  I hated that he was keeping something from me. I hated that he treated me like an all important piece of his life but wouldn’t tell me why. I hated that he didn’t trust me. I slammed down into one of the chairs around our tiny table, burying my head in my arms.

  “Silnỳ, do not be upset with me.” I felt his hand rest on the back of my head, his fingers moving through my hair. I ignored the contact, holding as still as I possibly could. “You will know all soon enough, and then the weight of the world will be on your shoulders.”

  I turned my head to look at him, his tall frame crumpled a bit so he could meet me at eye level.

  “Is that why you are keeping things from me Ilyan, because of ‘the weight of the world?’”

  “You already have so much pain in your heart, Silnỳ. I do not want to add to that. I only wish to see happiness in your soul. And when the time comes for your knowledge to change, I will be there to help you carry it.” I didn’t know whether to be grateful or scared, but I smiled all the same. Ilyan’s hand moved from my hair to trace my mark, his sad smile melting me.

  “You are beginning to sound like Ovailia when I removed her from her post.”

  Ovailia being stripped of her power did not sound like a party I wanted to be invited to. Knowing how much Ovailia felt she was entitled to, taking away the power she had scraped into her possession would mean trouble.

  “Glad I’m not in Prague. I don’t know what would be worse, Ovailia in charge, or Ovailia mad because she is not in charge.”

  Ilyan smiled as he poured me a glass of orange juice from a jug. Ilyan never ate anything processed, which meant I never ate anything processed, which means pulp free orange juice and fruit loops were a casualty of my past. I sighed at the memory.

  “Ovailia not in charge is worse. She tends to snap and act out when she doesn’t feel respected.”

  “As opposed to…?” I opened my hands in question. Ovailia was always snapping and acting out.

  “My point exactly.”

  I grimaced, suddenly glad I was safe and hidden in our little apartment since I was the one responsible for her dethroning.

  “Poor Wyn.” I said

  “Poor Talon.” Ilyan agreed. “I wouldn’t worry. If anyone can rein in Ovailia’s temperament when I am not there, it’s Talon. Although, he may be calling a bit more than Ovailia does.”

  Ilyan set three bowls on the table filled with honey covered strawberries, boiled greens, and berries wrapped in dandelion leaves. I grabbed a blackberry and began to untangle it from the leaf it was wrapped in. Ilyan looked at me like I had brought Fruit Loops into the house, but I ignored him. I could eat the leaf separately, but with the berry it made my stomach spin.

  “You’re never going to gain enough strength to defeat Edmund if you don’t eat the food I give you.” He was using that voice again. Ugh.

  “Ilyan, you sound like my Mother.” I said without thinking. My heart thumped uncontrollably, a flash of her crumpled body on the kitchen floor racing to the forefront of my memory. Ilyan didn’t seem to notice the pain in my face, which was probably for the better.

  “Well someone has to look out for your well-being.” He was dead serious and pushed the sickly looking bowl of boiled greens in my direction. I always steered clear of his boiled greens. They looked like cat vomit.

  “Might as well be ‘My Protector’ then,” I said a bit acidly, sliding the bowl back to him.

  Ilyan froze and leaned over the table toward me. I didn’t raise my head. I just shrunk into in my oversized hoodie.

  “Don’t, Ilyan,” I said, “I’m sorry I said anything.” I didn’t like the feeling his stare was giving me. I looked up, unsurprised to see his gaze still boring into me.

  He paused, contemplating what to say, his penetrating stare freezing me in place. His eyes never left mine as he grabbed the bowl of strawberries and placed it in front of me. Ilyan reached for my hands and wrapped them around the cold bowl. I could feel the warmth of his magic pulsing and flowing under his skin.

  “I will always protect you, Joclyn.” My breath caught and I pulled my hands away from his, the bowl dragging along the table with them. Ilyan only smiled.

  “Go get ready, Silnỳ. There are clothes for you in the bathroom. I want to leave in about an hour, get some sight-seeing in before dinner.”

  “Leave?” I was confused. He couldn’t possibly mean we were still going to go out. Especially with some super spy giving away information about us to who knows who in some bunker in Prague. It sounded like the plot to a grade B movie. “We aren’t still going into town. You can’t be serious?”

  “You marked me. A bit dishonestly, but you marked me,” he said with a smile. “A deal is a deal.”

  “But what if they find us?” I could hear the panic in my own voice; obviously I was bit more freaked out about this than I was admitting to myself.

  “Then they find us, Silnỳ. It was always a risk.”

  “But...” Ilyan stood up so fast my words fell from my mind in shock. In one swift movement he had come around the counter and was kneeling down before me, his hands wrapped around mine, h
is skin warm.

  “Vždycky budu tě chránit, drahá.” I froze at the words, my heart thumping uncontrollably.

  “Protect.” I said softly, repeating the only word I recognized.

  “Yes, protect.” He smiled brightly and pulled me to standing. “Now, go get ready, please.”

  Ilyan placed the bowl of strawberries in my hands and shooed me off to the bathroom.

  I shut the door behind me, my stomach swimming with eager anticipation. One hour. In one hour I would be escorted from my prison and into the world outside. Even though I was nervous about leaving given the current state of things, my excitement was stronger. I grinned at myself in the mirror and plopped a strawberry into my mouth, my face twisting a bit at the raw honey flavor.

  I wrapped my hair up in a high bun on top of my head and jumped in the shower. My mind buzzed in anticipation of getting out of the apartment, and I spent the majority of the time dreaming of what I would see and how I would recreate the city for Ryland. His little heart seemed so broken by what had happened before that I needed to do something to help him, to cheer him up. He needed to know how much I cared for him. If I had learned one thing it was to never bring up who he used to be.

  What if he never remembered? What if I was doomed to visit the Tȍuha every day for the rest of my life? Or worse yet, what if the possessed form of Ryland died, taking my Ryland and the Tȍuha with him. If that happened I knew I would die too. Maybe then Ilyan could save me with whatever mystery procedure he had planned to try before.

  I shook the thought from my head and stepped out of the shower, thinking again of magical cities and already planning games we could play in a newly built realm within the Tȍuha.

  I had dressed without thinking and now that I was looking at myself in the mirror, I wanted to scream. What was Ilyan thinking? Tight, bright turquoise jeans, and a bright white t-shirt? I gaped at myself in the mirror, horrified. Colors? Tight fitting clothes? I wanted to throw up. I grabbed for the hoodie, desperate for something to cover up with. It was bright red, to match my shoes I guessed, and fit as tight as anything else. The fabric was so thin it was almost non-existent. I yelled out in a panic, and stormed from the bathroom, determined to make Ilyan go out and purchase something more reasonable.