Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)

by Rebecca Ethington

  “I went to see Ryland, and everything had been destroyed more. It looked like it was dying. And then there was this smell...” I cringed at the memory of the stench, my face crinkling.

  I shook it off only to see Ilyan staring at me, his eyebrow raised in confusion.

  “When you say ‘destroyed more’ what exactly do you mean? Was it destroyed prior to this?”

  I sunk into myself, wishing I had a hoodie I could hide in. I had forgotten that I hadn’t told him about Ryland’s destroyed artwork, about his outburst or anything that had happened in the last Tȍuha. I had been too wound up in all that had happened with Ovailia that I hadn’t even mentioned it.

  I pulled the blanket up around me, desperate to hide in any way possible, as I told him about what had happened last time. His face grew more and more concerned.

  “But this time it wasn’t something that he had caused, Ilyan,” I said, “It was almost like everything was rotting.”

  “What do you mean rotting?” he asked.

  I sunk away from him. His tone was making me uncomfortable.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It almost looked like everything was crumbling away. Like a piece of molding bread.”

  Ilyan looked at me. I could feel his magic pulse and swell in my shoulder. The feeling was comfortable and yet...

  “It’s the Štít, isn’t it?” My voice was soft.

  “I don’t think so,” Ilyan replied hesitantly, but I could hear the strained undertones that had weeded their way through his voice.

  “Then what?”

  Ilyan stood, his motions making it clear he was going to pace. But, the small amount of space hindered him, so he stood still, fidgeting uncomfortably.

  “Ryland reacted negatively in the last Tȍuha, before the Štít was placed, so it can’t be that. It has to be something else.”

  “What?” I repeated, but Ilyan only chuckled darkly.

  “If I knew, I would tell you, Joclyn.” I could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but he was irritated. Whether that was because he had just woken up or because of what was happening, I wasn’t sure. But I was irritated too.

  “When are things going to get better, Ilyan?” I asked as I slammed my back against the wall. “Ryland can track me faster than either of us thought possible. He is pushing me out of the Tȍuha but if I don’t go, I’ll die.”

  I groaned and sunk sideways into the bed, dragging the blanket along with me.

  “You still sound like surly a teenager,” Ilyan said, his usual morning grumble sneaking into his voice and mixing with regret.

  “I am a surly teenager,” I spat. Had he forgotten so soon?

  Ilyan intertwined his fingers through mine, his magic swelling through me from the Štít as he relaxed my body. I peeked out at him from underneath the blanket; his magic surging as he removed the cast from around my wrist, his finger gently running over the skin of the now healed hand.

  “Come on, Joclyn,” he said as he gently pulled me to a sitting position.

  “Come where?”

  Ilyan smiled and pulled me up, the door leading into the attic and into the house creaked as his magic opened it.

  “Ilyan?” I was worried. I didn’t feel comfortable going into someone else’s house, although it did feel an awful lot like the crazy adventures I used to go on with Ryland. My heart thumped, more out of excitement than nerves.

  Ilyan didn’t respond. He simply smiled at me and dragged me out of the little room, weaving us through cluttered walkways lined with boxes before stopping in front of the hatch and fold out ladder that led below.

  “Ilyan,” I tried again, “what are we doing?”

  “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” he asked as he rolled his eyes. “Well, they have food and bathrooms down there and I don’t feel comfortable leaving the house yet, so…” He turned toward the hatch as it opened to the dark house below.

  “What if they see us?” I asked, but Ilyan only smirked and pulled me down the ladder.

  Ilyan hit the bottom of the ladder and turned, grabbing me around the waist and helping me down.

  “Don’t worry, Joclyn, everyone is asleep. And even if they were awake, I’d make sure they couldn’t see you.” Ilyan smiled as his magic flared in my shoulder to send warm ripples through my body.

  Ilyan took off down the hall, his feet silent as he moved. I moved after him, but I felt like every step I took caused louder and louder squeaks around the quiet space. Finally I gave up trying to be quiet and took off down the hall to catch up with Ilyan.

  He led us to the kitchen, stopping at a large, ornate bathroom on the way. It wasn’t as nice as Ilyan’s bathroom at The Motel, but it was five star after the tiny bathroom at the apartment.

  “I want to take a shower later,” I said as we entered the dark granite kitchen.

  “Later,” Ilyan whispered back, before placing his finger to his lips in a reminder to be quiet.

  I rolled my eyes at him before turning to rummage through the cabinets. I could tell after looking through the first cabinet that we had walked into Ilyan’s own personal hell. I carefully picked up a box of ‘Chicken and Dumpling’ dinner, displaying it for him like Vanna White. Ilyan stuck out his tongue in disgust before he moved to the cabinet next to me. I leaned around to peek over his shoulder before having to press my hand against my mouth to stop laughing. The cabinet was absolutely stuffed with mac and cheese, ramen noodles, and Vienna sausages.

  Ilyan made another disgusted sound and moved away, the look on his face what I would have expected if he had unwillingly walked into a butcher’s shop. I grabbed a box of mac and a small can of Vienna sausages and shoved them in his face.

  “They go good together,” I said, unable to keep the smile off my face.

  “If you’re human,” he countered. I rolled my eyes at his not-so-subtle reminder of his differing species.

  “You’re half human. You could at least try.” I shoved the box into his hands, and he held onto them like they were poison.

  “No, I’m half Chosen.” He tried to place them back in my hands, but I side stepped him, failing to restrain a laugh.

  “I am all Chosen and I love them. Besides, the mac and cheese has milk in it.” Ilyan’s scowl deepened further, making my laugh grow more.

  He attempted to get me to take the box back, but I side stepped him again only to run into the counter. I spun around and grabbed a container of flour off the counter, ripping the top off in a threatening manner. Ilyan rolled his eyes at me.

  “Come one step closer and I’ll get you,” I said, as menacingly as I could.

  Ilyan placed the mac and cheese on the counter before over-dramatically stepping toward me. I froze, the look in his eyes stopping all thought. I let one nervous chuckle escape me as he continued to come closer.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice laced with honey, “you will do what, now?”

  I opened my mouth to retort, my rebuttal paused when the light to the kitchen flashed on.

  “What’s going on in here?” The old man’s voice was loud and stern, shaking just enough to show that he was scared.

  His yell combined with the sudden appearance of the light startled me. My magic surged through my hands and into the flour, causing the whole thing to explode in my face. The old man took one look in my direction, froze, and turned down the hall screaming and swearing as he went.

  “He could see me, couldn’t he?” I asked.

  “Well, not you,” Ilyan said through a smile as he moved to wipe the flour from my face with the palm of his hand. “But he could see the flour. So you were essentially a floating face.”

  I stared at Ilyan for a minute before joining in with his laughter, the ridiculousness of what had happened hitting me.

  “So much for getting a shower tonight,” I said through my giggles.

  “True. But you do make one great ghost,” Ilyan said lightly before pressing his lips against my forehead.

  My laughter stopped. I hadn�
��t been prepared for the gentle swoop my stomach experienced at his touch.

  Thirteen

  One night without the dreams had changed something about them. Now, the trees were taller, darker, and more sinister. The singular growling I had previously heard was all around me, the one voice changing to many voices. Each new tone warned me of their impending arrival.

  I stayed glued to the spot in the middle of the large clearing, waiting to know what else had changed, what I should do, which way to run. I spun in place as I tried to find the culprits of the noise, trying to figure out if I should attack or if I should run. The dreams had never felt so real before, the change was frightening.

  My chest heaved as I breathed in and out, my nerves coursing wildly as the growling grew, figures forming amongst the trees. Their black shapes shifted around the tall trunks of the forest. They melded into the grey night only to disappear a moment later. They shifted and moved around me until they took on real substance, the figures forming a wide circle, trapping me.

  The growls deepened, and the shifting of the shapes increased. I stood still, waiting for the dream to tell me what to do. I felt my magic moving under my skin, but it wasn’t a normal surge of energy I felt in preparation for an attack. This was the surge of a pull, the pull I felt in Santa Fe when Ryland was around. Ryland was close. My mind reeled in a desperate attempt to figure out what was going on.

  I knew this was a dream, but something was different, something was off. I stood still, showing feigned strength, even though I was desperate to hide.

  All at once the growling stopped, the shapes disappeared and I was alone. I stopped spinning. I stopped searching. I felt the pull of my magic again and tried to ignore the desperation my heart felt at its call.

  I closed my eyes and tried to wipe the feeling from me, preparing myself for the battle I knew was coming. It wasn’t fair for my haunted dreams to make me fight Ryland again so soon.

  And then I heard it, the one growl that had always begun the dreams. I listened intently, trying to decide if it would be Cail, Ryland, or Timothy. It was always one of the three.

  “So, I bet you thought you were free. Free of these nightly terrors.” I spun at the voice, my insides tensing at seeing Edmund standing at the edge of the tree line, Cail standing next to him protectively.

  Edmund moved out of the trees, Cail following, as the dark shapes that I had thought to have vanished materialized again, dozens of Trpaslíks emerging from the woods. Cail stood apart from those around him, his dark eyes dancing with menacing joy. I shrunk away from him instinctively, waiting for him to pounce at Edmund’s command.

  “Do you really think you are safe?” Edmund asked again, my insides freezing over at the wicked sound. He didn’t sound as if he was enjoying himself anymore, he was simply angry now.

  “I am safe.” I pushed my voice out as strong as I could make it, the sound bouncing around us. Cail smiled at my response, while Edmund seemed to fume more, his large frame becoming even more menacing.

  “Safe with your Protector? Safe with Ilyan?” Edmund spoke his name like acid. It was the polar opposite to how he spoke to Ilyan. The two-faced nature of this man was unsurprising, but still unsettling.

  I didn’t challenge him with a response. I simply faced him, my eyes never daring to move away.

  “He would rather hide you than face us,” Edmund sneered. “Hide like a coward. Is that what you are, a coward?”

  I straightened my shoulders and met him straight on. “No more of a coward than you are.”

  Edmund laughed, the sound deep and joyful, making the hairs on my head prickle.

  “Really? How am I a coward, Joclyn, can you tell me that? I never hesitate. I fight when needed. Not like some newly awakened half-breed I know.”

  I flinched inwardly at his verbal assault but didn’t let it show.

  “At least I don’t kill people for sport.” The bitter taste of loss and revenge coated my tongue.

  Edmund sneered at me, his lips turned up in a joyous smile.

  “You’re right. You simply choose not to kill anyone.” His eyes flashed and I took a step back out of habit. I had seen that look enough in these dreams to know when to be scared of it.

  This time my reaction was visible, and my movement did not go unnoticed. Cail stepped toward me, his body coming precariously close as he came between me and Edmund. I moved away only to find a wall of henchmen behind me.

  “You are scaring her, Cail.” I couldn’t miss the wicked joy in Edmund’s voice.

  “Let me do it now,” Cail said as his eyes dug into me.

  “Be gentle with her, Cail. I am enjoying this little game. I want to see how it pans out.”

  “Oh, but sir, she seems to think that her dear Protector is innocent,” Cail said, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Even Ilyan has killed, Joclyn. He has killed hundreds of times. He even killed Wyn’s Mother. Your best friend’s Mother. And yet, you still trust him?”

  My hands flexed at Edmund’s words, strangely I didn’t doubt for a moment that they were true. It bothered me, but not as much as it should have.

  “Ilyan doesn’t kill for pleasure, unlike you.” I tried to keep my jaw strong as I faced Edmund, but it was hard. I was so scared my insides felt as if they were quivering.

  “And, you know this for a fact do you?” Edmund continued. “Ilyan sure does seem to enjoy a battle doesn’t he, Cail? He just can’t walk away from a fight. From a possible kill.”

  Edmund smiled, his blue eyes flashing. I froze, I knew what he was referring to and it scared me. It was the face of power Ilyan always got, the look of pure crazy joy.

  “You’re wrong.” My voice caught as I spoke, causing Cail to laugh. The deep sounds made his youthful frame rattle. I turned my head to face Cail, my angry glare directed into his dark eyes.

  “Oh really?” Cail said, his tone making me cringe. “You know this for a fact?”

  “Yes.” I tried to sound confident but I knew my voice had begun to waiver and my hands to shake.

  “Trust him, do you?” He moved closer.

  “Yes.” I kept my voice strong even though Cail’s responses felt like ice down my spine.

  “Trust him to keep you safe?” I nodded once and Cail’s wicked smile deepened. I attempted to move away from him again only to be stopped by the ever encroaching wall of people.

  “He can’t hide you from me forever.” Edmund said and Cail smiled evilly, a small laugh escaping at his joy for whatever was to come. His eyes moved from mine to a spot beyond where Edmund stood against the trees, the wicked upturn on his lips growing.

  “Besides, I have something you want.” Edmund continued.

  Something told me not to look, but I couldn’t help myself. Through the trees I could now hear grunting and gasping, and the sound was getting closer. I waited in fear for some wild animal to burst through and attack me, but I knew better. My heart knew better. And the pull of my magic told me I was right.

  My eyes widened as I saw him being dragged into the clearing by his curls. Ryland fought the action, but his energy was drained. I inhaled sharply, something that did not go unnoticed. Edmund turned to me with a joyful smirk, and I took a step back, careful to keep my emotions under control.

  Seeing Ryland like that triggered an alarm in me. This wasn’t right. I had felt it before, but now I knew it.

  The dreams had always been distorted bits of a memory or expanded portions of my worst fears. They never deviated from my expectations. There were always memories of Ryland, enacted horrors of his death, torture, and visions of my own impending death. But this was different. This was something new.

  Nothing about Ryland being dragged into a forest was a memory. Cail’s and Edmund’s taunting of me, yes. But seeing Ryland the way he was in front of me right now held no past meaning. Ryland looked up to me, his bright blue eyes pouring into mine, and I stopped breathing.

  “He remembers you, you know.” I hadn’t even noticed that Ed
mund had come up beside me. My whole existence had frozen at seeing Ryland, my Ryland, there. “After all of my hard work, he still remembers you.”

  “Jos…” Ryland gasped my name, his body barely strong enough to support himself when sitting. I breathed in a shaking breath, willing my feet to stay still.

  “There is only one thing to do now, sir…” Cail’s hand ran down my arm, but I barely noticed.

  “I leave it to you, Cail.”

  “Jos, you need to run.” Ryland whimpered as he spoke and I took a step forward. My progress was instantly halted by Cail’s arms around my waist.

  The contact broke me out of my shocked reverie. I turned to Cail, my face hard. This was wrong. Knowing the dream was wrong somehow, scared me, my fear breaking through my carefully crafted facade.

  “Let me go.” I controlled my voice carefully, trying to keep my emotions in check.

  “Oh no, no, no,” Cail said, his face impossibly close to mine. “You see, I have a message from Edmund for you.” I spun to where Edmund stood a moment before to find the space empty. Cail smiled and I felt my insides freeze. Everything seemed too raw, too real. I turned to Cail, my head held high, not wanting to give away that I was scared.

  “You see Ryland there? Alive? His memories returned? You have exactly one month to turn yourself in to us before we dispose of him.”

  “No!” I turned toward Ryland in a panic, but Cail’s arms held me securely in place. I fought against him, but his grip was too strong, his hold brutal against me.

  “Panicked now I see. A little worried?” He pressed his cheek against mine, his body moving with me as I fought his grip. “Well you should be.”

  “Joclyn, run!” Ryland screamed at me as the large man behind him produced a glimmering blade. The man didn’t even hesitate, he just ran him through, the blade glowing red. Ryland screamed and fell to the ground, his body not even fighting its loss of life.

  “No!”