Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)

by Rebecca Ethington

  “Is it good?” I asked when I couldn’t take it any longer; her silence was too much. My hands wound around each other in agitation as I waited, her fingers pressing against the soft strands of hair.

  “I have never seen one so perfect before,” she finally said, her voice unbelievably awed. “The lines… nothing is out of place. And the roses, I have never seen the ribbons bound into roses.”

  The soft pressure I had felt left as I felt a gentle tug, certain she was letting her hands run down the délka vedení královského.

  “Did it hurt? He must have had to pull to get it so right.”

  “I barely felt anything,” I whispered, my heart beating faster as the memory swelled, the strangely intimate moment affecting me more than I would have thought.

  “Really?” Wyn asked, her voice echoing around us as she shrieked, her shock causing me to smile more. “Talon gave me a bruise, right here.”

  Wyn pressed gently against my head, right above my left ear, and I couldn’t help grinning. I had felt nothing except the touch of Ilyan’s fingertips and the gentle pressure of his lips against my head.

  “You are blessed, My Lady. I cannot think of anyone more perfect than you to take that role.” My insides tightened as she spoke. For some reason, my new title hadn’t bothered me so much with Dramin, but with Wyn, it felt foreign and unwanted.

  “Don’t call me that,” I said, the snap coming out of my voice no matter how much I tried to ignore it. I spun to face her, my sudden movement shocking her, and she froze with her eyes wide, her hand still lifted awkwardly in the air.

  “My Lady?” She looked at me with those wide eyes before her features softened, her hand dropping to perch indignantly on her hip. It was already obvious that she was going to fight me on this, something I really wasn’t interested in.

  I exhaled deeply and walked away from her, following my magic as it pulled me toward Ilyan. My golden light followed me as I moved, the bouncing of it matching my gait almost perfectly.

  “You wear the délka vedení královského,” Wyn said as she ran up to me. My heart fell that she was going to push it so soon. “It’s kind of a requirement, Jos.”

  “Don’t give me that.” I turned toward her as I walked, my voice a little harder than I had intended it to be. “You barely call Ilyan My Lord; you can break the rule for me.”

  I knew I was pleading, begging, and I knew it shouldn’t mean anything, but it did.

  I pulled out the full, pouty lip at her as we walked, knowing I needed to break out the big guns. Thankfully, she only laughed, lacing her arm through mine.

  “Well, if it’s for you,” she said with a smile just as the bright light of the campfire ahead flickered into view. “I am still happy it’s you, My Lady.”

  I glared at her, but she only smiled brightly at me.

  “Now that I have shown you my secret, you need to tell me yours.” I kept my voice low, hoping to prompt her into being honest about whatever was going on with her and Thom, and how she was coping with Talon’s death.

  Her smile faded for a second as she sucked in breath, her chest heaving as she looked away from me toward the glow of the campfire that continued to grow closer, her face lighting again almost immediately.

  “I guess I owe you that, don’t I?” she said, her voice brightening. “Tomorrow.”

  Wyn smiled broadly at me as she walked away from me and into camp. My nerves prickled in agitation, but I guess I couldn’t get too mad; this time I had a feeling she was actually going to talk to me. Either that or I would force it out of her.

  I shook my head as I followed her into the circle of light where everyone had made camp, the warmth of the fire moving over me. The fire glowed a brilliant yellow, the blaze peeking out from a pile of rocks as if the rocks themselves were on fire. Everyone sat close enough to the fire that they were bathed in its light, most leaning against the side of the narrow tunnel as they tried to find comfort. Their bodies were spent and exhausted after what we had just gone through.

  Sain was handing Dramin a large mug from where he sat, his magic throbbing dully with exhaustion. Ilyan stood up from where he had been hunched over Ryland’s sleeping body at our arrival, his face tense, almost apprehensive at how things had gone between Wyn and me.

  Are you all right, my love? he asked silently, his eyes capturing mine the closer I walked to him.

  I nodded my head once as Wyn smiled at me. Her knowing glare sent my stomach squirming until she left me, walking over to where Thom sat, his body sprawled out as if he was sleeping. I knew better, though; he was far too still to be sleeping.

  Sain turned toward us as Ilyan came to my side, but I didn’t move my eyes from Ilyan’s. My magic rocked through me as Ilyan grabbed my hand, lifting it to press it against his face.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, his tone deep as his magic flared, moving right to my abdomen and where the large opening had been minutes before. Through everything, I had almost forgotten what had happened.

  My face tightened as the memory flashed through me. Ilyan’s hand left mine as he pulled the hood back over my head, carefully making sure everything was hidden.

  Ilyan said nothing as he led me back into the darkness of the cave away from everyone else. His shield moved around us to block us from view as we walked. We didn’t move far, only far enough that we were out of earshot, where the only light was the faded glow of the fire. Everything around us was chilled and cast in shadow.

  “Did Ilyan leave?” Thom suddenly said from behind us, his gruff voice filled with exaggerated mocking. “I really wanted him to tuck me in, too.”

  My head spun around at his voice just in time to see Wyn smack him upside the head while Dramin chuckled from the other side of the tunnel. I couldn’t help but smile at the exchange, something about it so normal and familiar even though I could feel Ilyan’s frustration usurp the humor in it.

  “Does everyone know?” I whispered, my nerves flying rapidly through me as I asked the question.

  Ilyan smiled, his joy streaming through me as he moved me against the wall. I leaned against the cold rock as his hand rested against the cave wall right next to my head, his body moving closer to me until I was trapped with only an inch of air between us.

  “Everyone knows,” he said, his smiling eyes meeting mine before his lips twitched and he lowered himself to inspect the blood-stained gash on the hoodie, and the mutilated flesh underneath.

  “We need to take this off.” Ilyan didn’t wait for me to answer; he just balled the thick fabric as he lifted the heavy hoodie over my head, his movements careful as he worked to keep my shirt in place and the braid untouched.

  I closed my eyes as the fabric passed overhead, only opening them at the touch of Ilyan’s hand against my shoulder, the sound of fabric against stone as he dropped the hoodie to the ground.

  Ilyan wasn’t looking at me, though; his eyes were focused on the massive red stain on the shirt. The glistening patches of my own blood appearing twice as bad in the dim light of the cave. Ilyan’s hands dragged down my bare arms as he kneeled before me again, his hands squeezing mine before he let me go, his eyes focused intently on my abdomen.

  He lifted my shirt as his hands brushed against my stomach, revealing the layer of blood that had dried against me.

  The warmth of his breath ran over me as his fingers moved over my abdomen, his chest tight in worry. He said nothing as he grabbed the hoodie off the ground, pressing it against my bare stomach as his magic surged through the fabric. The fabric warmed against my skin as he pulled the water out of the air and into it, giving him a chance to clean the blood that covered me.

  His movements were slow and gentle as he cleaned me until all that was left was a long, raised brown scar the stretched over my navel and down toward my hipbone, right where the Trpaslík’s blade had cut through me.

  Ilyan sucked in a pained breath as he saw the ugly scar, his fingertips tracing along the long, dark line as I held my breath. His touch was s
oft as his heartbeat faltered, his regret flooding into me. I could see it in his eyes and hear the thoughts of failure as my stomach tightened.

  I reached forward and ran my hand over the soft feathers of his hair before he looked up to me, his eyes wide as he pled for forgiveness.

  “You didn’t fail me, Ilyan,” I whispered. “You healed me; you got me out alive. This is not failure.”

  He said nothing as he looked at me before he closed his eyes, his regret melting away. He looked down, leaning forward until his lips pressed against the long, ugly scar that I knew I would always have. His magic surged through me at the touch, my stomach tightening as the intimate touch jolted through me.

  His lips lingered as his magic flowed to check for any internal injuries he might have missed. I moved down carefully to kneel in front of him, my knees digging into the hard stone as I met him eye to eye in the darkness of the cave.

  I could still see the regret, feel his worry. It hurt that I couldn’t take away that feeling of failure. It was more than just my injury that was bothering me, though; it was failure of another kind.

  “I will kill him, Ilyan,” I whispered, my voice hard with the conviction I knew he shared. “I know the sight has changed, but I will find a way.”

  “I know you will. I will fight alongside you,” he said, his voice soft as his hand moved over my shoulder and down to my elbow. “Let’s just hope we can get to Prague before the Vilỳs do too much damage and the city is lost.”

  After everything that had happened, I had almost forgotten about everything that I had seen in the sight that I had shared with Sain before Dramin had awakened. Just hearing Ilyan speak about it—feeling his worry for his home—brought the images into my mind along with Sain’s promise that the sight had already happened.

  But it hadn’t already happened. Dramin had told me that past sights were always dimmed, the pictures and voices echoed. These were clear as day. What was more, I had been in them. I had been running into the rock wall; I had been sitting on the rooftop.

  I don’t know why Sain would have said they had already happened; why he would have lied. I had watched as the sky rained with Vilỳs. I had seen a small child screaming amongst the rubble...

  “I don’t think that attack has begun,” I said, my voice deep as my Drak blood flared.

  Ilyan’s eyes widened as I spoke, his confusion clear as the grip against my elbow increased. My magic ignited right along his, the uncertainty rumbling through me.

  “What are you saying?” Ilyan asked, his voice deep.

  I swallowed, my eyes darting away as I tried to figure out what to say to him. I wasn’t quite sure if explaining the way the images weren’t dimmed would be clear enough. Besides, it was more than just the images; it was a feeling. Something that my blood promised was still to come.

  “In my sight, it felt like it was coming,” I explained, hoping it was enough.

  It was. Ilyan’s jaw clenched, a feral growl rumbling through his chest as he understood.

  “You mean we could be heading into a trap?”

  He said the words and my blood sped up as if in answer. We were walking into a trap. Somehow, the sights had been broken even before we had run into the forest, perhaps even before I had healed Dramin. Something had changed and the fate of our future had been manipulated. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew one thing: Nothing was guaranteed anymore.

  “Yes,” I gasped as I reached toward him, my fingers winding around the fabric of his shirt in desperation.

  “But you had that sight before the battle.”

  “I know,” I gasped. “And the caves? I saw those after I healed Wyn. Before I even healed Dramin; before our bonding. Why am I seeing things before the sight was broken; things that happen after I was supposed to die?”

  “I don’t know. Sain will know.”

  “I don’t trust him, Ilyan. I feel like he isn’t telling me something.” I had expected Ilyan to fight me on my statement, to try to convince me that I was wrong, but he stayed still, his head nodding slightly in understanding. Almost as if he agreed with me.

  “We will figure this out and find a way to end this together.” Ilyan’s hand moved from my elbow to the exposed skin of my hip as he spoke, the promise so clear in his eyes that it took my breath away.

  I knew we would because, even though so much of the sight had come to pass, there was much more still hidden from us. And if there was one thing that boiled in my blood and promised me of its fruition, it was that I would be the one to kill Edmund.

  “I will defeat Edmund, Ilyan. I was born to do so, and even though the sight has changed, I know that I will with you by my side.”

  “I know you will,” he said, his thumb running over the raised skin of my scar, the movement heating my sensitive blood, the need for his touch sparking deep.

  I reached up and ran my fingers over his lips as his eyes met mine, the fire in them hot and dangerous. I smiled at the look, my hand sliding around his neck as I pulled him to me, his lips meeting mine for the first time in what felt like days.

  I sighed at the pressure, at the way our magic flared and heated. He wrapped his arm around my waist as he pulled me against him, his hand a wide fan against my back.

  I groaned at the pressure, the sound coming out much louder than I had expected it to be in the stillness of the cave. It echoed around us only to have the laugh of the camp echo back, Thom’s joyous taunt following the echo.

  “Sound barrier, Brother!” he yelled.

  Everything froze in me, and I pulled away, suddenly wishing I could find a way to hide.

  Ilyan, however, smiled, his arms pulling me back into him as he kissed me again. I smiled at the contact, moving to stand when he did. Our hesitant feet took us back to the fire, Ilyan’s shield dropping from us once we were bathed in the light of the fire.

  Thankfully, when we returned, Thom and Wyn seemed occupied in some form of heated conversation while Sain kneeled over Ryland, leaving Dramin and his wide smile to greet us. A shock of embarrassed pleasure moved up my spine at the look Dramin gave me, and I turned into Ilyan, his hand wrapping around my waist on instinct. It was that touch that flared in me, and I turned my eyes, squinting through the dark in search of the hoodie we had left behind.

  “Be proud, my love,” Ilyan whispered in my ear, obviously picking up on my alarm. I looked up at him only to be met by his sweet smile. He kissed me once on the cheek before moving away toward where Sain was crowded over Ryland.

  I remained still after he left me, feeling very out of place standing in the middle of everyone, fully aware that Thom could see the braid from where he sat behind me. I looked around in confusion until Dramin met my eyes, his face wide and happy as he lifted a mug toward me.

  I couldn’t help grinning at the action, happy to have somewhere to go and not to stand like a loon for much longer. I slid down the wall next to him, Dramin handing me the mug in silence before he turned back to where Sain and Ilyan gathered around Ryland, the steam from his water floating through the air.

  We sat in silence as we drank, the quiet feeling comfortable and almost needed. After all, there wasn’t anything that needed to be said. I could feel Dramin’s comfort at making it through the battle alive, and in a lot of ways I felt the same way. I could have asked him about the sights, but I knew he already knew, and nothing we said about it now would change anything; there was always tomorrow.

  I rested my head back against the stone wall, and for the first time in what felt like days, I wanted to find rest. Thanks to the Drak blood that flowed through my veins, I wasn’t tired, but my body was exhausted.

  I leaned against the rock wall as Sain stepped away from Ryland, leaving Ilyan alone with his brother as he came to join us. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he sat on the other side of Dramin, the intensity of his stare making me uncomfortable. I could tell at once he had something to say, some sort of blame for our failure, for the broken sights. For anything.

  I didn’t w
ant to hear it.

  My jaw stiffened uncomfortably as I looked stubbornly into the fire, then at the grey rock that surrounded us, anywhere other than at the potent look he had fixed me with.

  “Joclyn,” Sain began, his voice softer than it had been, almost a whisper.

  I could tell he wanted me to turn to him, but I wasn’t going to give him that. So I stayed still, letting the whisper of what came next wash over me.

  “I am so sorry for treating you the way I have. After waiting so long to have you return…” He paused, his head hanging down as his shoulders rose and fell.

  I waited, waited for more to come.

  Wishing I could block him out in some way.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I should not expect so much of you. I am glad to see you alive.”

  I jerked toward him, my jaw working as I let his words seep into me. I just stared at him, not trusting his words, not wanting to believe them. He had told me hours before that he would celebrate my death, and now he was grateful for my life.

  I didn’t really think he felt either of those.

  I nodded once, not trusting myself to say anything. Sain’s face fell ever so slightly before he moved away from me and leaned against the wall.

  I turned away from him just as Ilyan moved away from Ryland to Thom and Wyn, who already looked to be half asleep. Wyn had her head resting on Thom’s shoulder and didn’t even move as he approached. Thom only nodded in feigned sleep at whatever Ilyan said before Ilyan moved over to us.

  “We are going to rest for five hours before we move again. We need to get to the safe house above the clock before night falls tomorrow, so the earlier start we get, the better.” Dramin nodded his head at Ilyan’s words, and I had a sinking sensation that he had already known what Ilyan was going to say.

  “Sain has said we will be safe while we sleep, so I suggest everyone rest,” Ilyan continued, the deep presence of the king heavy in the darkness of the cave.