Eleven
We flew in silence for almost an hour. I drifted in and out of sleep while Ilyan held me, and each time I awoke my body felt better. The bones in my wrist had begun to fuse themselves together when I woke the last time, the pain masked by Ilyan’s magic. I was still very tired, but the temperature was dropping the longer we flew, and without my hoodie, my teeth had begun to chatter a bit.
“We are almost there, Silnỳ.” Ilyan pressed me closer to his warm torso, my magic surging in an effort to keep me warm.
I placed my head against his chest and listened to his heart thump for a minute. The rhythm never changed, the comforting beat steady and strong as it echoed through my head. I felt myself falling asleep again but shook it off. It was too cold for me to sleep without risking hypothermia.
“I’m sorry, Ilyan,” I whispered into him, sure he could hear me.
“For what?”
“For ruining our noncommittal night out to dinner.” Ilyan laughed and I couldn’t help but smile a little. “I wish Ryland couldn’t track me so easily. I wish he...”
I stopped myself. We had been over this before.
Ilyan sighed heavily and ran his hand over my bare arm.
“At least we know how fast he can track you now.”
“Which is?” I didn’t want to hear the answer, but my curiosity won me over.
“Too fast for me to be comfortable.” He said and I knit my shoulders together, that didn’t sound promising. I was going to be locked away in hiding forever.
“I am sorry you got hurt. I should be there to protect you at all times. I shouldn’t have to fight them every time they come after you. I didn’t know how many there would be, or how well Ryland could track you. I failed you.” He ran his fingertips over the tender skin of my wrist, his magic flowing through my skin to check the healing bones.
“Does it hurt much?” Ilyan asked.
“No.” I watched as he traced over the bones, his touch soft against my skin.
Ilyan didn’t respond, he only wrapped his hand around my wrist as his magic surged. I watched as the surges of his power began turning into something tangible. A sturdy cast formed over the broken bones, immobilizing my wrist.
“You should heal faster than before, now that your own magic flows through your veins, but this will help to speed up the process.”
I looked at the cast Ilyan had placed over my wrist, the heavy plaster still pulsing with Ilyan’s magic. It was odd to think that something so simple and rudimentary was still needed, even with the magical possibilities that were available to us.
“Thank you.”
“Why did he do this to you anyway?”
I looked at my wrist, his long fingers were running over the skin of my fingers that peeked out above the cast. It didn’t hurt anymore, but just like when Ryland dug the knife into my chest, I wasn’t sure I would ever forget it. Every time Ryland hurt me physically, he scarred me internally too.
“His magic didn’t work against me,” I said. “I only absorbed it. He never actually did any damage.”
“What?” His voice was alarmed, putting me on edge.
“I felt the pain initially, but it would disappear. The same thing happened at the... the... party.” I struggled to say the word, surprised at the fresh wounds the memories still held. “Every time he attacked me, nothing happened.”
“And what about him, does the same thing happen to him?” Ilyan asked, his words hard and controlled.
“Yes. In the end he didn’t even react, that’s why I pushed him off the roof with the air conditioner.”
“This is bad,” he said, his arms tightening around me.
“What? Why?” I tried to twist around to look at him, but his arms held me in place.
“First and foremost, it is limiting you. Ryland will always go after you. He will never choose to fight me. He will seek you out until he kills you, and if your magic will not work against each other you are even more limited in your ability to fight him. Ryland would gladly enclose you in a fiery building or drop a semi-truck on your head. But would you do the same to him?”
“I threw an air conditioner at him. Isn’t that enough?” I was offended, I had pushed myself way beyond my comfort level, and he didn’t even see it.
“And the second you did, you worried for him.” His statement was a little too true to life. I felt my chest stiffen against it. “I can guarantee you, he did not do the same for you. If I had not taken you away, he would have crumbled the building underneath you, hurled a fiery car toward you, or flung your body into a telephone pole. What would you have done in return?”
I didn’t know what to say, I knew every word that Ilyan had said was true. I had worried about Ryland every time I attacked him. I had watched for signs of life after I had launched him off the roof. If we had not escaped, I would have done the same thing I had always done – acted in desperation to save him, even as he attempted to kill me.
I needed to be stronger, but I didn’t know how to be. Saving him is one thing, fighting him is another one entirely
“I can’t do this,”
“You can, Joclyn.” Ilyan gently moved my head up to look at him, my body still tight against his as we cut through the air. “We just have to change our game plan.”
“And, how do you suggest we do that?”
“Oh, I have ideas.” Ilyan smiled the powerful grin that was so natural for him and I fought a shiver from moving up my spine. I don’t know if it was from the icy air or worry about what he had planned, but either way, I was uncomfortable.
I pulled away from his gaze to move back against his chest. I fought to keep the ‘ideas’ that Ilyan had floating around inside his head from occupying my thoughts. Ilyan stayed silent, which helped me to keep my mind clear.
We flew until I could see the sliver of dawn’s first light peek over the horizon. The dim light crept into my brain and I yawned, hating the reminder of how little sleep I had been able to sneak in. I was glad for Ilyan’s supportive arms, without them I am not sure I would have been able to keep myself airborne.
Just as a sliver of sun peeked out over a river that lay down to our right, Ilyan began a quick descent to a small community surrounded by farmland.
“Are we going to be farmers, Ilyan?” I asked my voice stretched out as I yawned again.
“No, I have had more than enough of that to last me a lifetime,” he said.
I couldn’t think of why Ilyan would choose to be a farmer. The work seemed far too slow and monotonous, but then he had also lived in at least three churches that I knew of. They were both odd choices.
“Do you see that house in the middle of the main street, the one with a green roof?”
I looked eagerly toward the center of the town, easily picking out the green roof amongst the brightening buildings. The house was huge. Daydreams of my own bed and bathroom filled my mind. I had lived in close proximity to Ilyan for far too long.
“It’s not much,” Ilyan said, but I scoffed at him.
“As long as there is a giant bed, in my own bedroom that I can sleep in for the next two days I will be happy.” I grinned and bobbed happily a little bit, careful to keep Ilyan’s hands against my skin, and the shield Ilyan was protecting me with intact.
“There is a bed, of that much you can be sure.”
“A bed?” I asked, terrified. “What do you mean a bed?” I wiggled around in his arms, craning my head to look at him.
Ilyan looked down on me for a minute, his lips turned up at the corners, before looking away.
“I mean, there is one bed where we are going.” I didn’t miss the hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“Not two?”
“Not two.” He didn’t seem too torn up about this.
“But the house is huge...” I looked toward it aimlessly, my excitement dashed.
“We call it the haunted house. We haven’t used this safe house for decades, so I am hoping that if there is a spy they won’t be able to find
us here.”
“The haunted house? Why would you call it a haunted...?” We were close enough to the house now that I could see large portrait windows, and the family inside having breakfast.
“Someone lives here?” I yelled in a panic.
Ilyan clasped his hand over my mouth. We landed on the roof right against a window that obviously led to the attic. The glass was so old and grungy I couldn’t see inside. Ilyan’s hand moved down my arm to wrap tightly around my unbroken hand, keeping contact with my skin. The motion reminded me that we were nowhere near safe.
“Someone lives here?” I asked in a whisper the second Ilyan had removed his hand.
He looked to me with an exasperated face that I knew all too well, our feet securing us precariously on the steep roof.
“Yes, Silnỳ, someone lives here. The safe house is in the attic. We will be confined to a very small space for a week – and only a week,” he added hastily as my mouth fell open in panic. “We call it the haunted house because while they can’t see us, they will be able to hear us moving around and talking.”
“So we are like, ghosts?” My panic was steadily increasing.
“Ano, and thanks to your nightmares, we are going to be very loud, scary ghosts.” I blushed and turned away.
My nightmares. I still needed Ilyan every night when I woke up from my tormented dreams. No wonder he hadn’t been worried by the one bed thing. He was turning into an over-protective older brother. I shook my head and turned to Ilyan who had opened the window to pull me inside.
‘We stay in the attic’ had been an exaggeration. Ilyan pulled me into a tiny alcove that was partitioned off from the attic by wood paneled walls. Each wall had a window that looked into the family’s cluttered attic. I could see the windows having been installed for security purposes, but my guess would be that they were actually to prevent someone from going crazy in the eight by eight box I had been led into. The windows mirrored the one we had come from, magic shimmering over the glass to keep the family from knowing we were here.
I plopped down onto the bed that took up the whole room, and a plume of dust filled the air around me. I pulled Ilyan’s hand that was still wrapped firmly around mine and forced him to sit next to me, causing more dust to fly into the air.
“Please tell me this is a nightmare, Ilyan. Tell me I am going to wake up any minute.” I couldn’t keep the whine out of my voice. I had gone from a studio apartment with a kitchen and a bathroom to a room with a bed in the attic of someone else’s house.
“It’s only for a week, Silnỳ.” He squeezed my hand and I fought the desperate urge to pull away.
“And then where, a Murphy bed in a bowling alley?” I was mad, and Ilyan’s laughter at my comment only made me more upset.
“No, somewhere much better than this. I promise you.”
“Where?” I asked.
“I have a little house in the south of France. It’s right on the beach and has a few bedrooms and bathrooms. It’s mine. It’s not a safe house. No one but Ovailia and Talon know it’s there. After a week here I am going to take you there, until we figure out who has betrayed us and you are ready to kill Edmund with your own hands.”
“A beach house?” My spirits were soaring already. I had never been to a beach in my life, let alone one in France.
“Yes.” Ilyan said. “With your own bed.”
I bounced a bit, sending more dust in the air, as I wrapped my free arm around his neck, bringing his tall torso down to my level.
“Thank you, Ilyan,” I said. “For everything.”
“I am proud to do it, Joclyn.” Ilyan returned the hug, his hand strong against my back. I let him hold me against him, my body leaning heavily into him. His arms were so comforting and the wildflower smell of his hair was so relaxing, I found myself slipping into sleep right then. He must have known it too. I felt his magic pulse against my hand, the heat of his energy growing strong for a moment before receding.
“Don’t fall asleep yet, Joclyn. I have a surprise for you.” I pulled away, his smiling face greeting me. I stifled a yawn, but he only smiled more.
“Look, Silnỳ.” I looked away from his intense glance and into the rest of the tiny room.
In that one pulse of energy I had felt in Ilyan’s hand he had completely changed the room. The bed was clean and covered with a new comforter. The carpet on the floor was new, and the walls were white instead of the gross brown wood paneling. My mouth dropped as I looked at it. It would take me hours to create such a change, but Ilyan had done it in less time than it took to breathe. There was even a dark blue, black-out curtain over the window.
“I take it you like it then?” Ilyan smiled from beside me. I quickly snapped my jaw shut, worried he had noticed.
“I can’t believe you did this...” I let the sentence trail away, unsure of what else to say. He did it all in a blink of an eye, all while still keeping his powerful shield centered around me.
“I can take it back if you prefer to sleep on dust...” I only laughed at him.
“No, no. This is fine. Thank you, Ilyan.”
“Anything. Now, unless you want to hold my hand for the next week...” Ilyan held our hands up to eye level, and squeezed a bit. I didn’t feel awkward holding his hand or being near him anymore, but being obligated to have him touch my skin for the next week sounded miserable.
“Uh, no. Shield me please.” I sat down on the new squishy bed, expecting Ilyan to place an immovable shield around the house. It would mean I was trapped again, but I knew there was no other option. I steeled my mind against the thought of being trapped here for the next week and allowed myself to dream about being in a beach house.
But instead of shielding us, Ilyan froze for a minute before coming to kneel in front of me.
“I want to try something new if you don’t mind.” His voice was soft, but this unknown suggestion somehow made me uncomfortable. I scooted away from him out of habit.
“What?”
“I want to create a Štít inside of you that will hold some of my magic. It will never infiltrate your body, and I will always have control over it. But this way I can keep a stronger barrier around you, as well as be able to track you if we ever get separated.”
Ilyan had spoken very fast, his voice strained like he was having a hard time breathing. I raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.
“A Štít?” I repeated. I had never heard of what he was talking about, and just when I thought I was getting a decent hold on our abilities too.
“Yes. Think of it like a bubble inside of you that holds my magic. It will help me to keep you safe, as well as allow you to leave this tiny room from time to time.” I jumped in excitement, and Ilyan smiled broadly at my response.
“I can leave?”
“If you let me do this.” He wasn’t as excited as me. My hope deflated like a punctured balloon.
“What’s the downside?” I didn’t want to hear it, but I could tell from Ilyan’s tone that there was one. I knew I was right when he sighed and looked away, his classic hesitation. I reached out with my free hand and pulled his chin back to face me.
“Ilyan. What’s the downside?” He sighed again, and I ran my finger along his hairline out of habit, it was something I would do to Ryland. I regretted it instantly. His face went blank as he stared at me. I pulled my hand away, screwing up my face like I had eaten moldy cheese – which was actually how I felt inside.
“I have only done this to someone who has undergone the Zȇlství a few times before. I am not sure how it will work. It could upset the balance between you and Ryland in some way. It could upset your magic and you could fight against me even more when I try to heal or calm you. It’s a risk.”
My heart plunged down like a lead weight. Hearing him talk about the connection between Ryland and I breaking made me uncomfortable. Silly, considering that the connection was the reason I was being tracked, the reason I was bound to enter the Tȍuha on a daily basis, and a probable cause of m
y nightmares. I wouldn’t have to have a Štít if it wasn’t for my bond with Ry. The only good part about my bond was Ryland, and he didn’t even remember me anymore.
“What if it does break the connection between us? Will my body turn against me like before?”
“It’s a risk,” Ilyan said, his other hand joining to mine. I could still feel his magic surging through me, his shield keeping me hidden from Ryland, keeping me safe.
“And if it does? Do you still have your mysterious back-up plan?” Ilyan smiled, that odd look back in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“And what is this mysterious back-up plan?” I asked, hoping to get some more information out of him.
“Something a good friend told me about eight centuries ago.” He smiled coyly and I could tell that was all I was going to get out of him.
“I hate cryptic answers, Ilyan! Why do you always have to be so mysterious? It doesn’t add to the good guy persona very well.” I groaned and threw myself back on the bed in frustration, pulling Ilyan with me.
“Strangely, I am only cryptic with you,” he said as he pulled me back to sitting. “And, I only do it to protect you.”
“My Protector.” The words cut into me a little too heavily this time and I felt fear pit in my stomach at what it could mean. It all felt a bit more real after having been attacked.
“Yes, Silnỳ. And as your Protector, I need to be able to keep you safe.” He paused and looked away from me, the pained look back in his eyes. “Will you let me place the Štít?”
I groaned and dropped my head to my legs. I understood Ilyan’s warnings, but part of me, a very selfish part, desired the freedom that a Štít might give me. Ilyan ran his free hand over my back, his other still attached to my palm. I wished I had the strength and the ability to cast my own shield, to keep myself safe, but I wasn’t there yet. And even if I was, I knew I didn’t have the focus to keep it up 24 hours a day. Reluctantly, I nodded my head.
“Okay,”
“Lay down, Joclyn.” Ilyan whispered. I could still hear his trepidation even though I had given him the okay.
I laid down slowly. Ilyan’s hand slid up my arm to rest on my shoulder, his fingers never losing contact with my skin. His other hand moved to my other shoulder leaving his head to hang over me.
Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2) Page 11