Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3)

Home > Other > Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3) > Page 28
Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3) Page 28

by Rebecca Ethington


  “Ovi! Let her go!” Sain’s voice broke through the night air, his back to me as he yelled, his body doubled over as if he had just been attacked, which, judging by the look on Ovailia’s face, I wouldn’t doubt.

  “Wyn! You’re hurting her, Ovi!” Sain pleaded as I walked passed him, Ryland’s steps stopping as he lowered himself to help the old man.

  “Oh, hello, Ilyan.” Ovailia spoke as if she was simply weeding a garden, not holding Wyn’s body limply by her side. “Look what I found. She looks like she’s hurt, and strangely, I think she remembers everything.”

  She held up Wynifred’s small frame just as the girl yelled again. I moved toward her slowly, careful to keep my steps even, my face strong. I could tell by the look in her eyes that Ovailia had snapped. I needed to get Wynifred away from her before she did something stupid.

  “It looks like someone hurt Cail. After all his hard work too...poor Cail. Daddy won’t like that.” She smiled at me, her hold keeping Wyn’s body dangling as she yelled.

  “Daddy doesn’t like it when you keep things from him. I don’t like it either.” She smiled, her eyes darting between Sain and myself. I knew what was coming. She had no need for a cover; I had thrown her out of the Abbey. Now she could say what was on her mind. I waited for the onslaught, waited for her to retreat so I could move closer and help Wynifred.

  “Don’t you?” I couldn’t keep from answering. I didn’t even try to keep the cutting edge out of my voice. At any other time, I would have at least tried, but Ovailia was staking her side. She was preparing herself for battle, so I let my maniacal power overtake me for a minute, making Ovailia flinch when she saw the look in my eyes.

  “I thought you didn’t like to wake the dead?”

  “Maybe you should have let me die,” She yelled, her face coming within an inch of my own.

  “I didn’t make that decision for you, Ovailia.” My voice was hard and distant as I took two more steps nearer her.

  “Well you will,” she smiled, “Because, I am coming right for you, with your worst enemy on my heels,” she said, her face glowing with the expectation of victory.

  I just stared at her as she smiled, her warning mixed with Wyn’s yells, ringing in my ears. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  With one blink of my eyes, I sent her flying, Wyn’s body falling briefly before I caught her and brought her into my arms. Ovailia’s yell rang in my ears as she righted herself, her posture strong as she defiantly faced me.

  “Goodbye, Ovailia.” It was all she needed to hear, her smile increasing before she stormed off to disappear into the forest.

  I never saw her go. I never took another look at my sister; I just turned toward the Abbey, Wynifred cradled in my arms. Her yells broke through the night as she writhed, the marks continuing their decent into her soul.

  I seeped my magic into her, only to be burned by the powerful magic. The slow death her father had cast against her all those years ago had only become stronger. I withdrew my magic, not even able to numb her pain.

  “Ian.” I looked down at her, surprised to hear my code name from the centuries she had spied for me.

  “Tell Thom I’m sorry.” She barely got the words out before she cried out incoherently again.

  “He’s here, Wynifred.” I am not even sure she could hear me, but I needed her to know that her last moments would not be alone.

  I looked back at Ryland and Sain, Sain rushing forward intent to help her in any way he could, evident on his face. However, I knew it was no use. The curse was too strong. It had only grown stronger with time, and after a hundred years, there was no hope.

  I moved into the Abbey as quickly as I dared. I hoped my quick glance had conveyed the danger she was in and the need for them to follow me. Sain’s pulse joined in my wake, Ryland’s falling right into step beside him as I began to run, Wyn’s body hanging in my arms.

  I could feel the pulse of Thom’s magic in his room and I knew at once that that was where we needed to go.

  My magic pushed open the door to Thom’s room before we had even arrived. I could see him turn, his hair whipping around at the unexpected movement. The movement alerted him, not the yells. He pulled the tiny ear buds of his iPod from his ears as we entered, the heartbreaking fear slamming into him as he registered who I was carrying.

  “Wynifred!” His yell broke through the air like a knife. The sound of her name was loud, and frightened. I ignored him and the panic in his voice as I laid her down on the bed, her eyes closed as she writhed and yelled. The marks continued to snake across her skin, their number decreasing as they finished the work they had been sent out to do so long ago.

  Thom was at her side in an instant, Ryland and Sain taking a place on either side of him as they entered the room. All three of them placed their hands on her, all three withdrawing as the supercharged curse stung their magic.

  “That is dark magic,” Sain said, his voice shaking in fear as he cradled his hand against his chest as if he had been burned.

  Thom moved to try again when her body calmed momentarily, his hand moving to rest flat against her arm, right against the wiggling marks. I stopped him with one movement, my hand wrapping around his wrist. He pushed against me before looking up, a question in his eyes. Neither of us said anything, my face telling the whole story – there was nothing to be done.

  Thom dropped his hand dejectedly, his shoulders sagging as he looked at her. Wynifred still yelled and writhed on the small bed I had laid her on.

  “Her memories have returned,” I whispered to Thom as he clung to her hand.

  “Cail?” he asked, his voice panicked.

  “Joclyn must have killed him when she escaped the Tȍuha. I didn’t think so at first, but only Cail’s death could release Wynifred’s curse. It was either Joclyn or Edmund who killed him.”

  “It barely matters now. Can you bind it again?” I only shook my head.

  “Talon?” Thom’s voice was a whisper.

  I could only shake my head, I didn’t know.

  “He’s gone.” My head snapped over to Sain, his voice scratchy, like sandpaper, against the loud chaos of the room. “He passed five days ago.”

  I was sure that my heart had stopped beating. Talon had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We had been raised together, and he had been my guard until the day I dismissed him, on the day of his bonding with Wyn.

  I wanted to destroy something. The pain that my loss was creating inside of me made me consumed me, wanting to turn the Abbey to ash, run rampant and rain death through the Trpaslík camps.

  I sucked in a breath, willing my soul to move past the pain, to hold the loss deep inside with all the others. I commanded it away from me and forced my upbringing forward, my back straightening as my veins ran icy for a moment.

  “Wynifred.” Thom’s voice was calm as he spoke to her, her eyes growing wide with recognition.

  “Thom?”

  “I’m here,” he whispered as she shifted her weight, her jaw clenching as she tried not to yell, but failed.

  “Am I dead?” Wynifred’s voice was deep and strong again, the way I had known it for centuries. She spoke the words through clenched teeth as she cringed against the pain.

  “Not yet, sweetie. But I’ll stay here until the end.”

  I could feel the sting in my eyes as Thom spoke to her, as he prepared her for what was coming. He clung to her, his hands wrapped around hers as he soothed her the only way he could. His focus was only on her, as was everyone else’s. Ryland and Sain could only stare with tear-stained cheeks.

  It was with a strained heart I realized what I was witnessing. Sain, Ryland, and Wyn had been imprisoned together. They had suffered together. Ryland and Sain’s tears suddenly made sense; they too were watching their friend die.

  “Talon?” Wyn asked, her voice getting weaker.

  “He will be there waiting for you. He’s going to be right there...and...and you know who is going to be with him?”

&
nbsp; “Rosaline?”

  “Yeah, sweetie, she is going to be right there. Right there with Talon. She’s been waiting for you, waiting... for her mommy.” Thom’s voice caught, and I had to look away, I couldn’t think about what he was saying to her, what he was promising.

  Instinctively I pushed my magic toward Joclyn, needing to feel her, to feel her magic, to know that she was still okay. My eyes opened wider as I felt her presence right outside the door.

  I looked back at Thom’s goodbye to his best friend for only a minute before I moved out the door, finding Joclyn curled up in a ball against the floor, her hands wrapping around her knees and pulling her into a tight fetal position. I dropped to the floor as my hands moved to touch the skin on her shoulders.

  Joclyn’s head snapped up at me, her wide silver eyes blazing into me.

  “Wyn.” Her voice didn’t shake as she said her friend’s name, the intensity of the word making it clear what she wanted.

  “She’s dying, Joclyn.” I ran my finger over her cheek, not knowing how to comfort her or even if she needed it.

  I can save her.

  I heard her voice in my head. My eyes widened in surprise, but her eyes continued to stare into mine, as if what she had just done was the simplest thing in the world.

  “Ryland is in there.” I tried to keep my voice level, not wanting to send her into a panic with the shock I was feeling at just having heard her voice in my head.

  Don’t let me see him. I will kill him if I see him.

  I balked at her words, my jaw loosening in shock. I could hear the truth behind them, the conviction in her tones. She truly believed what she was saying. It couldn’t be. I wished I could blame her misplaced intentions on what the imitation of Ryland had done to her in the Tȍuha, but I had heard Ovailia’s words. Edmund had intentionally marred them both, making them weapons against each other. Joclyn’s words only confirmed it.

  I struggled to keep my anger restrained. The pain of hearing Wynifred’s screams, of losing Talon, mixing with the anger I felt at what Edmund had done to Joclyn and Ryland before it threatened to explode. He had manipulated them for his own use.

  “Joclyn…” I began, unsure of what to say.

  I can do it. Take me to her.

  I said nothing. I didn’t know what else could be said. Joclyn only looked at me for a second before closing her eyes, her hand wrapping firmly around mine as she stood, her body bent and crippled from the torture her mind had gone through.

  Wyn yelled again, and I knew I couldn’t wait. I wrapped my arm around Joclyn, bringing her close against me as I led her through the door.

  Sain and Ryland stiffened when I brought her in, both men taking a step toward her in longing. Both men drawn to her for different reasons. I shook my head at them frantically, hoping they would understand. Ryland still attempted to move toward me, but Sain wrapped his hand around Ryland’s strong bicep, bringing him back against him.

  “Do you remember when we took her to the beach?” Thom’s voice was soft as he tried to keep Wynifred calm with memories of her long forgotten past. He didn’t notice us until we were right in front of him, Joclyn’s body moving toward Wynifred as if she sensed exactly where she was.

  Thom sat back as Joclyn fell on top of her friend, her torso draping over Wynifred’s, her hands extending to cover the moving marks on her arm. I could feel Joclyn’s magic surge at the touch, the air around her sending a powerful aura right into me. I felt the surge a moment before everyone else could see it.

  The air around Joclyn rippled as her magic continued to swell. She pulled the magic out of the air, the stone, and the earth. She brought it into her, using the power as she would her own, her control, above any I had ever seen.

  The air continued to ripple visibly, the breath of everyone held in place as they watched. Silence filled the room as Joclyn’s body and magic smothered Wynifred’s pain. Even with the energy Joclyn was channeling, the marks still moved on Wyn’s arms, the curse still seeping into her heart in an effort to kill her.

  “N-n-need m-more.” Joclyn’s voice was quiet, her magic straining as she began to sweat.

  I moved closer to her, my body hovering over hers as I leaned down to whisper in her ear. I could see Ryland shift uncomfortably at my close proximity, his intent to injure me obvious. Without Sain and Thom there to restrain him, he probably would have.

  “Use me, take it through the Štít,” I whispered softly, not wanting Ryland or Sain to hear.

  I began to push my magic into her, the full strength of it filling her for one moment before she grabbed it and pushed it into Wynifred. As soon as she did, I could feel Wynifred, feel the curse, but I could also feel that my magic was not fully mine. I could feel it. I could recognize what it was doing, but it was Joclyn who controlled it.

  “M...more...Il...Ilyan...” Her voice dropped as she began to pant, the work involved in healing Wyn becoming too much for her.

  I looked away from her to the three men at the other side of the room. They watched our actions, fear, amazement, and anger spread across each of their faces. I knew what my next action would mean to Ryland, to Sain, but it had to be done.

  I moved Joclyn’s hair out of the way, shifting it around her neck to reveal the raised dragon shaped brand on her neck. The kiss stared at me from her smooth skin as I unwrapped my bandaged hand, letting the smooth covering fall to the floor and revealing the angry red scar of the burn.

  I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t look to the gasps that sounded as they each recognized the angry red marks that covered the palm of my hand. I lowered my body to press against Joclyn’s back, my hand hovering over the mark for just a moment before I lowered it onto her skin.

  The razor sharp jolt sprung through our bodies simultaneously, the connection the Black Water had forged between us coming to life and combining with the jolt from the kiss. Our voices called out in harmony as the shock the connection forged between us rippled through our bodies. I could feel Joclyn’s exertion, her weakness, and her mad need to heal her friend. But more than that, I could feel our mingled magic surging strong through Wynifred. The amount of power rushing into her should have been enough to kill her instantly, but somehow Joclyn controlled it. Joclyn maintained the magical pulse and Wynifred’s life in perfect harmony.

  The black marks on Wynifred’s arm that had been moving into her heart were fast, but strangely, Joclyn was faster. She moved seamlessly in a way that even I would not have been able to. Her power was obviously beyond even that which I had been born with.

  I opened my eyes; the three men staring in amazement as Wyn’s marks not only stopped moving, but also began to fade from her skin.

  Hold me.

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I looked away from the three pairs of eyes that stared at us and wrapped my free hand around Joclyn’s waist, keeping my scarred hand against her mark as I brought her body against me.

  No sooner had I pressed myself against her back than both girls began to scream, their voices matched in pitch, the sound ringing out like a song rather than the agonizing pain I could feel mirrored in my own body.

  The scream ended only moments after it had come. Joclyn gasped for breath before she rocked away from Wynifred’s body and threw both of us away from the bed.

  Wynifred’s yell lasted for a moment longer before her mouth opened wider, her jaw extended like a cat on the hunt. She writhed on the bed, her back arching eerily before her body released a plume of black smoke. It spewed from her gaping mouth like the steam from an engine, the blackness rising and curling dangerously into the air before disappearing.

  I held Joclyn’s body against mine, my eyes darting down to Wyn, whose body was relaxed and her marks all but gone. No one dared to move, least of all me. We all knew just by looking that Joclyn had done something even I couldn’t.

  Cover my eyes.

  I did as she asked, recognizing the change that was coming over her. Her body stiffened and her head spun within me. Her breathi
ng picked up as her mind was filled with a sight, her spine tensing for only a moment before she spoke.

  “T-take th...the l-left.” Her deep voice filled the room. Thom barely looked at her before rushing back to Wyn’s side.

  Sain’s eyes widened as he pieced together what had just had happened, but Ryland hadn’t seemed to notice, he just looked at her with that desperate longing in his eyes again. I’m not even sure he realized that there was something different in her voice.

  I looked at Sain, pleading with him not to say anything, to keep this secret. I still wasn’t sure I could trust Ryland. I needed to keep Joclyn safe, and letting this get out would not help her.

  Sain nodded once in understanding, the action letting my muscles relax.

  “She’s fine.” Thom’s voice cut through my silent exchange, bringing us all back to what had just happened. “Joclyn healed her.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as I brought her body into mine, keeping her close to me.

  I told you I could.

  I jerked my eyes back down to her. Her eyes were still closed, and her face was pressed against my chest. She could have been sleeping. I slowly removed my finger from the mark, allowing the connection to begin to fade from my mind. I wished I knew how she was doing that, how she was filling my mind with her voice. No one had ever managed anything past crude pictures – not since the first were born from the mud. But to hear her voice, without the stutter, inside my mind… It was as beautiful as she was.

  She was amazing.

  Thank you.

  Joclyn

  Twenty-Eight

  Fireflies.

  When I was growing up, I thought fireflies were magic. I thought they were like fairies. I would try to catch them in jars and take them home to convince them to grant my wish.

  I was four when I caught my first one. I had put him in a glass jar and watched him glow as he fluttered and banged against the glass. He was going to grant my wish. My father had sat with me and run his finger over the glass, the firefly drawn to him. When my father’s finger was there, the firefly didn’t bang his head against the glass anymore; he just followed my father’s finger.

 

‹ Prev