“Now you know where Edmund got the name,” he smiled. “It is Edmunds greatest desire to take control of the wells of Imdalind again.”
“Why? What would he do with them?” I asked, although I already knew it would be nothing good.
“Create a new race, destroy the world, stop the existence of magic, the possibilities within Imdalind are endless. Which is why those that are left of my kind are sworn to protect the wells of mud with our lives.”
“What has the mud done before? Besides hold magic I mean?”
“It was through this mud that the first of every kind was bred. We do not know where they came from, only that they woke with their legs in the mud, their lungs stinging with their first breath. They walked out of the mountain, and as each bonded with a mortal it awoke something inside of the mortals, their own magic. It is from the wells of Imdalind that all magic begins and ends.”
“How do you know that that’s what really happened?” I asked, holding in a laugh. The story sounded more like a legend than a history.
“Because we know who was there. The first of each of the holders of magic. The first of the Drak, the first of the Vilỳs, the first of the Trpaslíks and the first of the Skȓíteks – my Grandmother, Frain.”
“Your Grandmother?” Would there ever be anything about Ilyan that wouldn’t surprise me?
“Yes, I have heard this story since the day I was born. My Mother and Grandmother would tell it to me at nights when our home was lit by candlelight. My Mother also told me as she lay dying from the loss of my Father’s magic.”
Ilyan turned away from me, looking toward the church, but I could tell he wasn’t seeing anything. I knew that look. I had been trapped in that look for months, trapped in my memories. I reached up and placed my hand on his shoulder. At my touch, he turned to face me.
“Which is how you knew what was happening to me, all those months ago?” He nodded once.
“But you would let me help you. My Mother let herself waste away.” He sighed heavily and my heart tensed. I knew exactly how he felt.
“I’m sorry.” I let my hand fall from his shoulder, not knowing what else to do.
“It was a very long time ago, Silnỳ.”
“I am still sorry.”
The silence between us stretched uncomfortably. I willed myself to look away from him, to ignore his warm hand wrapped around mine. I finished my food, shoving the wrapper in my pocket, and turned to him, unsurprised to see his unfocused eyes on something beyond me.
“So,” I began, desperate to end the silence and break Ilyan’s intense gaze. “If you believe that your kind came from this mud, do you believe there is a God too?”
“Not particularly,” he said, coming back to himself.
“If you do not believe in a God, then why do you spend so much time in churches?”
“Because of how humans act when their souls are so close to God. They care for one another beyond how they would normally. They help, and support, and love one another. It’s amazing to watch.”
“You must think me an uncaring, hateful person then.” I shifted my weight, wishing I could remove my hand from his. He must have sensed my discomfort because the heat from his hand around mine increased as his magic pulsed.
“Not in the least. You are one of the most caring, brave people I have met in quite some time. You willingly risked everything to save Ryland, handled ultimate losses with grace, and...”
I snorted and Ilyan stopped to look at me, his forehead furled in confusion.
“I wasn’t graceful, Ilyan. I refused to move and then practically let my body kill me.”
“But you didn’t,” Ilyan said.
“Because you’re stubborn,” I said, shoving our entwined hands into his chest. Ilyan smiled, I glowed assuming I had won.
“Not as stubborn as you.” My mouth dropped, odd clicking noises coming from my throat. Ilyan laughed deeply, the happy sound ricocheting off the people around us. Several people looked toward us, smiling at the exchange. I could only guess what was on their minds. First date, young love, newly married, and it got worse from there. I instinctively sunk into my sweater, pulling the hood up around my face with my free hand. Ilyan’s laugh stopped but his smile remained.
“When are you going to stop hiding?”
“As soon as people stop looking at me,” I said, affronted. Ilyan raised an eyebrow at me and I crinkled my noise at him in frustration.
“I don’t see that happening any time soon, Silnỳ.”
“Then don’t count on me coming out of hiding anytime soon,” I spat, grumbling a bit.
“And you say you are not stubborn.” Ilyan smiled, his eyes shining. I shied away from him, my reaction increasing his smile and causing me to fume a bit more. Ilyan dropped my hand then, his warm magic and the protective shield leaving my body. Now it wasn’t a question of if Ryland would find me, but how fast. Suddenly I felt unprepared to be attacked, to fight, unsure if I could come out of a fight still standing.
I stiffened in fear, my eyes darting around the street as if Ryland was simply going to step out from behind a garbage can. My panic softened when Ilyan placed his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him.
“Calm down, Joclyn.”
“What if they find me, Ilyan?” I said, struggling to keep the stress out of my voice.
“Then they find you. You are brave enough to fight them now. You are strong enough to face him.” He didn’t need to elaborate. I knew who he was talking about.
“Ilyan, I...”
“I know you are,” he cut me off, not letting me give voice to my fears. His words were so soft, his eyes so gentle, that against my better judgment I felt my anxiety dissipate, replaced by a heavy confidence I wasn’t used to.
Ilyan moved his hands from my face to move the hood down from around my head, releasing my hair to fall down my back. “And then we will know if they can track you and how fast.”
I cringed. Being unshielded made me uncomfortable. This was worse than having people looking at me. I couldn’t hide under a hoodie to escape. I wasn’t even sure what would happen if they did find me, or if I really wanted to know if they could. Having that knowledge didn’t seem like something desirable to me.
“I need to know so that I can keep you safe. And, if they do come, I will be here to protect you.”
“My Protector?” I said.
“Yes,” he spoke softly, his hands trailing around my neck to rest on my shoulders, the soft touch of his forefinger grazing my mark. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”
Nine
I sat underneath the twinkling lights that had been draped around the large outdoor patio of the cantina, listening to the fast paced salsa music that filled the air. Couples danced and swirled on the floor in front of me, their bodies meshed together in a seamless blur of color.
I sat back in my wicker chair, pressing my strawberry lemonade to my lips. The sun was setting behind the mountains that surrounded the city, giving a soft yellow glow to the sky. It touched the facades of the buildings and kissed them into a honey color that glowed from the inside out. I had never seen a city that was so unique and beautiful, I was in love.
Even though the sun was setting, the temperature hadn’t dropped. My hoodie felt heavy and hot against my skin, a thin layer of sweat building up on my neck. I was contemplating taking it off, but didn’t want to be the recipient of the ‘told you so’ look from Ilyan. Though the thought of dying from heat stroke due to my own stubbornness scared me. I took another sip of lemonade; at least I could keep myself hydrated.
I shifted my hoodie a bit to help the airflow, but I was still uncomfortable. I glanced to Ilyan hoping he hadn’t seen me fidget. Luckily he was still intently watching the dancers on the dance floor.
He looked completely out of place in this melee of noise and color. The rugged lines of his face caught in the lights, giving him an ethereal hue almost as if he himself was glowing. He sat in his chair, smiling serenely. It was a stark
contrast to the drunken, boisterous group we were surrounded by.
He turned and caught me staring at him, so I smiled brightly and turned back to the dancers, feeling strangely odd about being caught looking at him. I heard him chuckle and he returned back to his glass of wine.
The waitress had looked at him like he had lost it when we ordered and he requested wine instead of the obligatory tequila. Ilyan had only raised an eyebrow, sending the girl to retrieve wine I am sure hadn’t been in their stock before then.
“Come on, Silnỳ." Ilyan’s hand jutted into the space in front of me. “Let’s dance."
"Oh, no," I said, sinking into the chair. "I don’t dance."
Ilyan bent down slightly, bringing his eyes closer to my eye level. "Don’t dance, or don’t know how?"
"Both, considering the last time I was on a dance floor didn’t end so well." My insides scrambled together at the thought of Ryland’s graduation party, my first and only kiss, and then the disastrous failed rescue mission that followed.
“Yes, I know. I was there.”
“Then you know why I don’t want to participate,” I said smugly, hoping he would walk away.
He didn’t.
His lips pulled up into a half smile, his eyes twinkling.
“Would it help if I told you I invented the Salsa?”
“You did not,” I said, trying to restrain a smile. His eyes lit up as he laughed, his hand still jutting toward me unwavering.
“Well no, but I have been dancing it since it was invented. Come, let me show you.” Ilyan wrapped his hand under my arm and pulled me up.
“I’d rather not.” I stepped away from him, but he mirrored my movements.
“I won’t hurt you, Joclyn,” he promised. “And if you don’t dance with me, I’ll be forced to take away your win and we will have to stay in the apartment for an additional week.”
My jaw dropped a bit. Ilyan only smiled more. Although I would normally have guessed it to be an empty threat, I didn’t want to take the chance. I plopped my hand down in his and rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the smile that lit up his face.
Ilyan led me onto the middle of the dance floor, and I tried to ignore the stabbing pain that being on another dance floor was giving me. The swirling and moving couples made way for us as we weaved through them, until Ilyan had placed us directly in the middle, the cobweb of lights zigzagging over our heads.
Ilyan took my hand in his and brought our joined hands up to eye level. His other hand brought mine up to his arm before moving to rest lightly on my back. He looked at me intently as the music flowed around us. I could have sworn he was waiting for me to move first, but there was no way that was going to happen. I rolled my eyes at him and went to drop my hands but he held onto me tighter.
“Follow the way my feet move,” he began. “Mine move forward. Yours move back. Watch.”
I looked down, nerves rising as I watched his feet move smoothly across the floor. I tried to follow, but it was harder than I thought it would be. Ilyan made it look easy.
I missed my long board. I could control that perfectly, and I was sure Ilyan would fall off after about ten feet. I smiled at the thought and missed a beat. My supporting foot rolling and my other one kicking him in the ankle. I was no good at this. I swore loudly and tried to pull away, but Ilyan increased his grip and pulled me back, crashing my body into his.
“Don’t think so much, Silnỳ,” he whispered in my ear. “Feel the music and move with the beat.”
I could feel Ilyan’s hand grow warm against mine, his magic bubbling right under the surface. But it never crossed the barrier of our skin. I was left to my own devices – no shield to protect me, no magic to calm me. I groaned and pushed my lacking self-confidence to the side in an attempt to move with him in the right way. Ilyan’s hand increased pressure on my back, pulling me against him as he began to push and pull me in the right direction. While still not perfect, at least I wasn’t stepping into anyone anymore.
“Now, you move your hips a bit more...”
“Did you say ‘move your hips’ to me?” I interrupted trying to keep the laugh out of my voice. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It is part of the Salsa, Joclyn, you must try it.” Ilyan began to move his hips in the way that all the other men on the floor were. It looked absolutely ridiculous.
I laughed loudly at him, but he didn’t stop the movement. He continued stepping and swaying and shaking as he took my giggling, stumbling form along with him. He spun me once, and I over spun crashing into him. I felt a laugh build in his chest as he continued to move. I had never seen him laugh like this before. This was natural and carefree. Ilyan was having fun. His emotion embraced me and I began to awkwardly sway my hips along with him. Ilyan’s laughter increased as I moved ineptly around his perfected movements.
We moved as the band played. Ilyan’s movements were flawless, me stumbling along with him as we both laughed aloud. Ilyan smiled at me with the same confusing look in his eyes before spinning me under his arm. I turned around awkwardly in front of him, my eyes tracking the crowd as I became dizzier and dizzier.
That was when I noticed that others were watching. For one fleeting moment I hadn’t noticed, I hadn’t cared. But then I saw a beautiful Hispanic woman look at me. She was laughing, possibly finding joy in the happiness that Ilyan and I shared, but even her notice cut into me. I stopped spinning and sunk into myself. Moving instinctively, Ilyan’s arms came up to wrap around me, pulling me into his chest. I wished he wouldn’t touch me, but I didn’t want to make more of a scene. Right now I wanted to run from the dance floor. Coming out here had been a mistake.
“Others will notice you, Joclyn,” Ilyan whispered in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“But, you can’t let it change who you are deep inside. Have fun for you, not for the people around you.” He spun me away from him, my eyes scanning the crowd. Everyone laughed and joked and played, all of them happy, none of them looking at me.
Ilyan came up behind me, his arm wrapping around my waist as he moved me in the dance, my back against his chest.
“See, no one else is even noticing you. No one else matters. Only you. Only me. Only the Salsa!” I could hear his smile as he pushed me away from him causing me to spin around to face him again. His feet continued to move and his hips to sway as I poorly mimicked his movements.
I can’t say I got better, but I did actually begin to enjoy myself again. Before long Ilyan was laughing just as loud as I was as we danced our way through the endless Salsa music.
Ilyan had pulled me out of another turn when his face fell. He never missed a beat, but his eyes had turned from joyous to serious far faster than I thought possible.
“Well, that was fast,” he said, his voice hard.
“What was fast?” I asked, trying to follow his line of sight, but he had returned to staring back at me.
“Go for a walk with me?” he asked.
“Umm... okay.”
Ilyan had barely waited for a response before winding his fingers through mine and taking me with him as he turned and began to swerve through the crowded cantina. We passed by our table and Ilyan held out his hand, letting his drink fly into his open palm. He drained the glass, before lowering it to another table on our way out.
“Ilyan,” I whispered, sure I wasn’t going to get a response.
Ilyan was about to plow us into a large group of people, when my body grew warm with his magic. It didn’t flood me as fast as it had when my magic was killing me, but the speed was still startling. Something was obviously wrong.
The warmth filled me, and a large breeze came and lifted us off of the ground. Ilyan held onto my hand tightly as he flew us out of the crowded restaurant and onto the golden tin roof of the building. I looked down at the confused people below. They all seemed to be commenting on the wind but no one had noticed our odd departure.
“Ilyan, what...” Ilyan clapped his hand over my mouth as he held me
still, his eyes focused on the lively party below us. My body grew warmer as his magic pulsed stronger within me, before turning into a low simmering heat that siphoned away to form a shield around me again.
“Two hours, Joclyn. That’s all it took for them to track your magic.” His face lit up in a wicked grin I knew a bit too well, and my heart beat erratically. I looked down to the dance floor as a short man with broad shoulders and dark red hair walked into the space followed by a hulking mass in black leather. Cail, and what I could easily recognize as Edmund, had found me. Their movements were slow and focused. Their static figures standing out in the torrent of activity.
“He’s come himself, I see,” Ilyan smiled with a wicked joy. “Well, I suppose he needs a challenge every once in a while.”
Only one person could track my magic. I swung my head toward Ilyan, my eyes wide. Finally he removed his hand from over my mouth.
“Is he here?” I whispered. Ilyan’s fingers moved up to touch my mark, his touch light on my neck.
“Yes, but don’t go looking for him.” My heart fell at his words.
“I need you to stay here. If anyone approaches you, fly right to me. Don’t hesitate. Don’t try to fight them.”
He looked away from me, his eyes scanning the party below us.
“I can fight, Ilyan,” I said. I didn’t need him babysitting me. I had been pushing and preparing for this day for the last three months.
“Not well enough, Silnỳ. Not well enough to face Edmund, not yet.” He turned toward me and wrapped his hands around my forearms. “Not. Yet.”
“But you said earlier...” I began, remembering the softness of his voice, the strength of his earlier confidence in me. I felt like he was suddenly taking it all back. I didn’t disagree with him, but changing his mind still stung.
“I know, I...”
“Stop treating me like a child!” I pulled my arms away from his touch and tried to move away from him. I regretted it instantly. The simmering heat of the shield left, and within moments, Cail’s face turned up to the roof of the cantina where Ilyan and I stood.
Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2) Page 9