“I am going to destroy you!” Ovailia screamed as she rushed me, her intent clear. If magic didn’t work, she would do her best to rip me apart with her bare hands. Good thing I didn’t mind playing dirty.
My heart thudded with adrenaline lined fear as I ran at her. Ready to meet her head on, ready to finish this.
We met in the middle of the clearing, our magical pulses colliding in sparks of black and grey as fists met skin. Ovailia threw frantic punches as she screamed, my own retaliation serving more as a block while I tried to claw and scrape at her in any way I could. I reached forward blindly, winding my fingers around her long hair before I took two wide steps forward, pulling her by the long strands as I whipped her around behind me. My hand slammed into the small of her back as my muscles pulsed with a maniacal energy. I threw her through the air, sending her hurdling away from me.
“You are not who I am meant to fight,” I screamed in frustration, hating the way my voice deepened, how my sight fueled the words and told me they were true. Even if they were true, I didn’t want them to be; I didn’t want the words to escape me.
My muscles tensed and flexed as I faced her, the strength that I did not know I had engulfing me. Ilyan’s magic surged as I screamed, my magic stretching toward him, pressing into him, his pride for me surging as Ovailia ran back to me, a long snake of an attack dripping like tar from her fingers before she sent it through the air at me.
“Do you really think you can fight Edmund? That you can defeat him?”
My heart thudded at her words, at the meaning behind them. Everything in me tightened as she rushed me, my anger rippling over me as I pressed my hand toward her attempted attack, one pulse of my magic turning it into smoke.
“I know I can!”
“And stay alive?” she taunted, her tactic changing as she tried to pull out the madness that they had implanted in me.
I swallowed as I tried to control my panic and narrowed my eyes, fighting the fear that tried to pull into me, desperately fighting against her games.
My magic moved, unbidden, to Ilyan as I focused on her, the spaces of each Trpaslík laid out as Ilyan twisted and turned in his fight with them. As soon as he felled one, another one would stream through the trees toward him. One after another I could feel them as they ran toward him. I could feel them cut him, feel his blood drip over his skin. He needed help. I needed to get over there, but with Ovailia breathing down my neck, I knew there was no way.
I didn’t pull my scowl off Ovailia as I let my magic surge into Ilyan, pulsing through him as his attacks grew in strength and exploded out of him as he wielded my power, taking down several with one simple attack.
That’s my girl, Ilyan’s voice filled my head, and I fought the smile that wanted to seep over me.
“Didn’t think so,” Ovailia said, pulling my mind right back to her, only to see her move from my line of sight.
She moved so fast I barely saw her, her body right in front of me one minute and behind me the next. My body tensed in fear as her hand wrapped around my braid as she pulled it down, my back arching uncomfortably at the forced movement.
“You might as well give up now,” she grunted in my ear as the smell of burning hair met my nose. “Die now, die later, what does it matter?”
Her voice ground between her teeth, her words a taunt that hit more in fact than in fiction. She just didn’t need to know it, and right then, it didn’t matter.
I screamed as she pulled me down further, my back aching as the fragile bones bent unnaturally. The smell of the beautiful braid as it burned beneath her fingers hit my nose, the heart-wrenching aroma growing as she destroyed the most precious thing that anyone had ever given me.
I screamed louder at the smell, my heart ripping open at what she was doing. My magic surged in my frenzy, the air prickling as my magic exploded in a flame of white light, the pulse of energy releasing my hair from her grip as she fell away from me.
I had wanted to fight her, to defeat her. But now, smelling the charred remains of Ilyan’s gift, it became more than that. It became an angry flame that wanted to destroy her. I lunged at her as she stumbled away from me, my legs locking around her waist, pinning her beneath me as I compacted her into the dirt. I pressed my hands against her face, my fingers clawing into her as I kept her in place, the fire of my magic working through her body as the earth attempted to swallow her.
The earth beneath us rippled like quicksand as I screamed in anger. The dirt swallowed her body as the ferocity of my magic led it on. My body ached as my heart thundered against my chest, my blood heating as I stared into her, watching her fear seep through her eyes before the movement stopped, her own magic beginning to fight back. The dirt that had been engulfing her began to shake, small explosions popping around us as Ovailia screamed against my hands, sending an explosion of earth right into my face. I fell away from her as the pulse threw me to the ground, the simple weapon blinding me as I scooted away from her over the piles of dirt I was now surrounded by.
I wiped the dirt from my face in a panic, my chest heaving in fear as I tried to regain my vision, knowing she wouldn’t wait. I wiped the dirt from my eyes when her fist made contact with my stomach. I could taste blood and bile on my tounge as lightning struck into a tree right behind her, sending it into a blaze, the dried leaves that covered the ground catching and spreading the fire as it moved to surround us.
The rumble of the earth’s energy roared through me as Ovailia’s hands moved to wrap around my face. She clenched her fingers into my cheeks, pressing against the gentle bones before her hands lunged forward, sending my face into the hard surface of her knee. I screamed in agony as the pain rippled over my face and down my spine, the bones snapping as my nose broke. Blood flowed freely down my face as my magic swelled to heal it, but I knew it wouldn’t be fast enough.
I knew it would be foolish to wait.
My head spun as the blood flowed, a sight I knew would kill me threatening to break through. I fought it, knowing that if I were to black out for even a moment, Ovailia would end me. I couldn’t let that happen, even if I were to survive it; I couldn’t risk Edmund finding out that I was a Drak.
I was beginning to understand why Drak’s did not have offensive magic.
The fearful pressure in my chest ached as I spit the blood out of my mouth and pushed the sight away with a gasp, my blood-covered hands jutting forward as I pulled at Ovailia’s slender legs. The action was unexpected and she tumbled to the ground in a heap right onto the already smoldering leaves. She screamed as the fire surrounded her, rolling away from it as she extinguished her now-singed clothes.
I shuffled away from her just as the air prickled with the storm, the magic of the earth screaming into my heart, crying through my fear and telling me what to do.
I wasn’t one to question it.
My breath heaved as I stood, lifting my hands to the sky just as it broke apart, the bolt of lightning cutting through the dark clouds to strike against the palms of my hands. A pulse of steel surged through my body in a million volts of pain and fire. I screamed as it hit me, as it moved through me—moved into me—until everything that I was had turned into heat and agony. My ears filled with the sound of thunder, with my own scream, and with Ilyan’s yells of terror as he registered what had happened to me.
I heard them; I felt them, but ignored them all. I let the energy move into me, let it rock through me before I moved my hands, pointing right into Ovailia as my body redirected the power that had just filled me. The air snapped with a rumble of thunder that moved out from me as the lightening erupted from my hands, shooting right into Ovailia’s chest and sending her flying away from me. Her body crumpled against the large trunk I had sent her into before. The flaming tree broke apart easily as her body continued on, speeding through the dark forest until it swallowed her and I could no longer see her.
I panted as she disappeared, wishing that it would be the end of her, but somehow knowing that it never would be.
That she would be back.
I sunk to my knees as Ilyan’s magic flooded me, the warmth welcome. My lungs pulled in desperate gasps of air in an attempt to find my footing, to find calm.
I breathed in deep spurts as Ilyan broke away from the thinning Trpaslíks he still fought, most running in the other direction after the explosion I was sure they had just witnessed.
That I had just witnessed.
I had seen it, felt it. I could still feel it, feel the rumble of electricity that surged through me, and yet I had no idea how I had accomplished such a thing.
I stared at the darkened patch Ovailia had disappeared through, twigs snapping as Ilyan broke through the trees, his movements quick as he rushed to my side, gathering me into his arms. His hands were warm against my skin as he pulled me into him, his worry so strong it almost scared me.
“You’re okay?” I asked as I turned to look at him, my heart fluttering at seeing him there, at the wide blood stain that spread over his shirt.
I reached my hands up shakily, almost afraid that the lightning I could still feel buzzing through my veins would seep into him. I held my hand above his skin, the warmth of his body radiating into me before my hand pressed against his face, the skin soft and calming, the lightning still restrained within my body.
“Thanks to you,” he gasped, his voice broken and soft in emotion.
I smiled before I turned toward where Ovailia had disappeared, almost expecting her to come strolling from the darkness, ready to continue the battle.
Ilyan’s hand wrapped round my waist as he lifted me to standing, his pace slower with the extra work. I pushed my magic into him, warming him as I moved to heal him, feeling his skin already knit together from the deep cut he had received, the bone he had broken already bound and repairing.
“We need to finish this,” I said as I clung to him, my heart beating in fear and excitement at what I had just said. I let the words flow, hard and strong, as the truth rocked me. I knew I didn’t have another choice; it wasn’t true that I ever had.
I grit my teeth as Ilyan’s acceptance filled me, his pride strong as he wrapped his hand around my destroyed braid, his magic sparking as he repaired the damage that Ovailia had done.
“I will follow you wherever. You are my forever,” Ilyan whispered as we turned toward the abbey, the flickering fire that was far ahead of us a shining beacon of where the building sat.
It was there, just beyond those trees, that I would find my destiny. That my life would define the fate and future of all those that I held dear.
I clung to Ilyan as I heard my own words repeated back to me, my thoughts moving through him as his so often did through me. There was no stopping this anymore; that much was clear. The only thing left was to face it.
“Where is my father?” Ilyan asked, his voice hard as he moved forward, his magic flaring through me as our bodies lost contact.
My magic surged as I followed him, the electric tendrils of my power laying out the map of the land that surrounded us. My eyes closed at the image of the Trpaslíks who swarmed through the forest, most on their way to us, others running through the abbey or standing guard outside. There, in one of the rooms at the center of the large abbey, tucked near the back, was Edmund.
“In the abbey, in a room near the bell tower,” I answered, my eyes snapping open to the long, golden ribbon that trailed down Ilyan’s back.
Ilyan nodded once as he began to move, and my heart thumped at the thought of the hundreds of Trpaslíks who separated us from Edmund. I moved to meet Ilyan, my fingers weaving through his as I pulled him to a stop, turning him to face me.
“Let’s go right to Edmund, Ilyan. Let me finish this.” I clung to his hand as I begged him, knowing he could feel the need, feel the power that coursed through me.
I needed to finish Edmund, and right then, I knew that I could.
I wanted to.
“How? When the abbey is swarming with his guard?” Ilyan asked, his nerves fluttering at what was to come.
“A Stutter.”
Ilyan’s eyes widened at my request, his mind going into overdrive as he thought through every option of the plan, every possibility. I felt them rumble through me as I tried to understand, but with the mixture of Czech and English and the quick flashes of his thoughts, it only confused me more.
“We cannot Stutter,” Ilyan said, his thought slowing down as the depth of his voice grew. “Not this close to him. He will be able to feel us coming; he will know right where we will appear. I have run into this problem before. I do not want you to get lost in the blackness between worlds.”
Ilyan leaned closer to me as he pressed his hands against my face, his touch soft as he looked into me, the desperate need that had taken over him seeping into me. Edmund was stronger than I had assumed. Being able to feel a Stutter? The thought sent ice into me and I nodded, the strong confidence I had felt before ebbing.
“Then what do we do?” I asked.
Ilyan’s eyes burned into mine as his hands trailed down the side of my face, his fingertips brushing over my neck. I shuddered at the touch, my magic warming and reacting to the connection as Ilyan pulled the hood over my head again, tucking the braid and the ribbon carefully away.
“You tell me, my love,” Ilyan said, his smile feeling strangely out of place. Then I understood. I understood the question and the meaning behind it.
I could see what was ahead.
I nodded once and closed my eyes, my chest heaving as I caught my breath, pulling at the dizziness I had pushed away before. It rumbled through me as Ilyan held me, his hands warm against my skin and my blood reacted to it. It boiled through me as my vision burned red, the blackness flashing before the images came, flashes of fighting that moved through my vision in a strobe.
I gasped at the images, the flashes of Ilyan fighting through fire, the stones of the abbey surrounding us as the maniacal light hit his eyes. My body tightened uncomfortably as the images slowed and the words Ilyan sought seeped from my lips.
“Take the fire and find your strength. The last moment is yours.”
The words faded as the image did, my confusion growing at the nonsensical words which had seeped from my mouth, leaving me to replace them with ones I could understand.
“We fight.”
“Then we fight,” he repeated, his hand wrapping around mine as together we ran through the forest. Our speed spiked as his magic surged, the power moving right through me while we ran. We didn’t stop as we approached the burning tree line, Ilyan’s magic surrounding us in a shield that kept the flames from burning our skin.
We came to a halt just before the large pasture that surrounded the abbey, my heart falling to see fire erupting from many of the windows. The flames licked at the stone, sending billows of smoke into the already darkening sky. The grounds in front of us were filled with dozens of Trpaslíks; rows of an army, all at attention. All ready to fight. The scene before us was laid out so perfectly I could feel my stomach clench together in warning.
Edmund had set a trap even though he did not know all the contents of the sight. He had made his plan, hoping he could assume enough to give him the upper hand.
Ilyan clenched my hand as we prepared to move, his body bouncing in excitement before a pain shot through his arm with an intensity so sharp that I could feel the shadow of it in my own body. I gasped at the pressure, my hand clamping over my arm as the surge faded, the sharp pain disappearing into nothing.
“What was that?” I hissed, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice, the memory of the pain too fresh.
It felt like I had been stabbed, and even though the pain was gone, I almost expected the culprit to remain, my arm to be drenched in blood, yet nothing was there.
“Something has happened. Wyn has deviated from the plan,” Ilyan almost growled, his eyes narrowing as he glared through the abbey grounds and toward the forest on the opposite side that had been the escape route for the others.
I looked t
hrough the fires and the armies as he did, my magic taking my sight away from me and through the trees until I found them. The others walked forward in a quick pace that none of them seemed capable of maintaining. Thom supported Dramin while Sain practically dragged Ryland. They followed Wyn as she led them, her face haggard and blood-covered.
If they had followed the plan, they would have been flying; instead, they stumbled and limped through the forest. They had been attacked, and what was more, more of our enemies were heading right for them. I could feel the deep, angry pulses as the Trpaslíks ran to surround them.
“They are headed into an ambush; they can’t fly as you commanded them.” My voice sounded distant as I kept my vision on what was happening several miles away from us.
Ilyan’s muscles tensed, the same pain shooting up his arm as his magic again warned him of the break in his plan. His eyes stayed focused on the coming massacre that he could not see, his heart a thundering pulse in his chest as his jaw clenched and unclenched.
I could feel Ilyan’s need to help them, the same need pulsing within me. My friends were about to come under attack; they were about to die. I needed to help them. I needed to rush there and fight for them, not stay on this foolish mission that would only end in my death.
I could save them.
But I couldn’t, because this mission wasn’t foolish. It was needed, and I was the only one who could finish the job.
They are on their own, I spoke the words into Ilyan’s mind, my heart breaking as Ilyan’s did, too. The foolish hope that maybe we could still get there in time raged through him like wildfire.
“We need to get to my father.”
I nodded in agreement, Ilyan’s hand tightening around mine as our magic met between us. We burst through the trees in our desperation to reach the abbey, the wind at our backs as the thunder rumbled overhead, blocking our movements from view and our sounds from our enemies’ ears.
Our hands broke free from each other as Ilyan continued to shield me from within, our pace quickening as we ran to meet the first row of Trpaslíks. Their faces were hard as they stared into the tree line expecting our arrival, oblivious to the fact that we were already there.
Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) Page 30