Imdalind Ruby Collection One: Kiss of Fire | Eyes of Ember | Scorched Treachery

by Ethington, Rebecca

  “Goodbye?” he asked, and my face fell more.

  “Yeah, I may not come back. I’m not sure. I’m... I’m very sick. My friend is trying to help me, but I am not sure it is going to work... I wanted to say goodbye, in case.” I felt the tears come and I cursed silently. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be weak anymore.

  “You don’t look sick,” Ryland said.

  “Not here, but where I come from I am very sick.”

  Ryland screwed up his face like he didn’t believe me, but then seemed to think better of it. His face brightened a bit, but I could tell his smile was forced. I felt bad leaving him here alone. I didn’t have a choice, though. I was quite literally lying in Ilyan’s arms as he kept me alive long enough to say goodbye.

  “You’ll be back,” Ryland said. “I know you will.”

  “I hope you’re right, Ry.” I ran my fingers through his curls, the way I always used to, and he smiled a bit.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say any more. I turned away from him and walked determinedly to a black door that was set into the endless space. I wasn’t sure if it was the right way to exit because I had always been forced out before, but the door seemed right, so I grabbed the knob.

  “Goodbye, Jossy,” Ryland whispered, using a nickname I hadn’t heard since I was six.

  “Goodbye, Ry,” I whispered softly to myself, not daring to turn back to face him again. I bit my lip and turned the knob, grateful when my eyes opened to Ilyan’s worried face leaning over me.

  I could tell right away that something was off; Ilyan’s face was relieved but also... disappointed. Then I felt it; the strong buzzing under my skin. I could feel my perfectly healed body, the energy, the power. I hadn’t felt this strong since I had flown into the LaRue mansion.

  I sat up, sending blankets tumbling around me. Nothing hurt. My magic had restored itself, and in turn, healed my body. I stared at my hand numbly; I was going to be okay. I could have danced and sang, but everything in me was frozen in shocked relief. I stood and spun to face Ilyan, his face as stunned as I felt.

  “It healed me.” I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question. I was awed. I still couldn’t believe it. Relief washed down my spine and I exhaled shakily.

  I fought the urge to call Wyn and scream into the telephone receiver about what had happened, or storm out the door right now to track down Edmund. Instead I stared at my hand in disbelief, the tingling warmth that occupied me taking over. I looked at my hand that had held my liquid magic not long before; the slime had dried into a film that coated my palm, but otherwise, nothing remained.

  “Did you know it would do that?”

  “I can honestly say I had no idea. I had assumed the bond was broken, but to have a connection strong enough for it to repair the bond within a Tȍuha… I didn’t think that was possible.”

  My skin prickled and pulsed as I flexed my fingers and toes. I had been lying down for the last few days like a slug at a beer festival. I had almost given up hope of seeking my revenge on Edmund. I had tried to find comfort in the possibility of seeing Ryland in whatever life was after this. After that, however, I could find him, fight him. Now Ryland’s sacrifice could be worth something. I smiled brighter and threw myself at Ilyan, wrapping my hands around his neck only to get a face full of hair.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. Slowly, his arms came around to encompass me.

  “Of course, this means Ryland can track you easily now.” Ilyan had spoken offhand, though the few words had been enough to shatter my celebration.

  “What do you mean?” I untangled myself from Ilyan to stand in front of him.

  “If your bond is strong enough to reseal your magic during a Tȍuha, then it is strong enough to track you over large distances. If he can do that, I do not know where—if any place—you would be safe. I can shield you as long as we stay together and in one location, but for now, it limits you to the interior of this apartment.”

  My jaw dropped, all my hopes at a celebration of good health dashed. Part of me wanted to yell at Ilyan for spoiling my joy, but he still had that devastated look on his face.

  “So, are we trapped here?” I asked, finally able to process all that Ilyan was saying.

  “Until I know how far he can track you, and until you are strong enough to fight him if he does.” I couldn’t help noticing that Ilyan’s jaw was set into a hard line. He didn’t seem to be celebrating my miraculous recovery at all. It worried me.

  “Which will be how long?” I asked, my frustration rising.

  “I do not know, Joclyn. Perhaps a year, maybe more.”

  Sixty-Two

  Wyn

  “Thank God! Everyone’s finally home!” Talon’s voice boomed over the large stone hall that served as the entrance to the underground cavern that we called home. His joy echoed the way it always did, rattling the large decorative chandeliers of mirrors and glass that we used to get adequate light down here.

  Imdalind was our home, and had been for centuries. The whole thing was a large, intricately carved, circuit of tunnels hidden in eastern Europe. It was, at its core, the center of all magic. Just being here made my skin all fluttery. As though it could feel all of that magic.

  “It only took us three months,” Ovailia spat with a hint of disdain. Okay, not a hint, her voice was dripping with it.

  She hadn’t exactly been quiet about her distaste for how long all of this had taken.

  “Yeah, I don’t know if you remember, but Ilyan asked everyone to go slow, and you know… not get caught. Didn’t he put you in charge?” I didn’t hold back as I looked up from the book I had been occupying myself with while Talon and Ovailia had checked in and questioned the last of the Skȓíteks to make it back home to Imdalind.

  Ovailia turned, blue eyes sparking dangerously. Her look of warning was only matched by Talon’s. Talon might be Ilyan’s second, but when he was away from home the ruling title passed to the ‘next in line to the throne’. Which meant Ovailia was in charge.

  I was essentially goading a Queen. And loving every minute of it.

  “This used to be done in weeks, Wynifred. Or don’t you remember?” She grinned at me, her smile stretching as she goaded me. As she always did.

  “Ovailia,” Talon’s joy was gone and replaced with a snarl of warning, something we both ignored.

  One of Ovailia’s favorite games was ‘prod the Trpaslík who can’t remember her past thanks to the stupid curse that still covers her skin.’ I could already feel my anger rise, my magic boiling in waves of hot and cold. It wouldn’t take much to explode the ground underneath her and send her tumbling through the air.

  I smiled at the thought.

  “I remember how to respect the king's orders.” My fingers tightened around the book and she took a step forward.

  “Do you?”

  “Ovailia!” Talon’s order just made her fume more, but I waved him off. I could take her.

  “What are you even doing here, Wynifred? You are not part of Ilyan’s command.”

  I shrugged and went back to my book, turning a page with a bit too much flourish, “I live here. Oh, and I’m bonded to the King’s second.”

  I could hear Ovailia’s jaw pop in frustration, Talon not too gracefully restraining a chuckle as he tucked the binder under his arm.

  “Do you really dare to speak to me that way?” Ovailia was practically shrieking as she rushed me.

  “Oh, I dare.”

  Talon wasn’t even trying to hide his laugh now. “I think we are done here, Ovailia.”

  I turned another page with an unnecessary amount of theatrics. Ovailia opened her mouth as though she was going to retort before looking between us. She had lost, and she knew it. She gave one of her trademark shrieks and stomped away, mumbling something about having better things to do anyway.

  “I win.”

  “You really should stop pestering her.” Talon loomed over me, casting a shadow over my book. I looked up and gave him a grin.
r />   “And miss out on all the fun?”

  “I’d rather you not end up as a smudge on the stone floors.” He was serious. I closed my book and stood, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him.

  “That’s half the fun. You know how much fun it would be to spar with her. Not that I could ever egg her on that much.” It was true. Years of trying, and I had never faced Ovailia in a fight. It would be a good fight, I liked to think that we were pretty fairly matched magically. At least she wouldn’t defeat me in one blow like Ilyan did.

  “I’m pretty sure she is under strict orders not to fight you, on account that you would both end up a bloodied mess.” Poor Talon, he almost sounded worried about that.

  “Don’t worry, I’d beat her.” I gave him a grin as we turned out of the large entrance hall and into one of the smaller tunnels. This one led past most of the working rooms; the orchard, kitchens, gardens and what not. There were also a few annex rooms for meeting spaces. Those were my favorite; they were close enough to the kitchens that they always smelled like whatever was for dinner that night.

  “I know you would.” He stopped, pulling me around to face him just as a gaggle of Skȓíteks moved past us, nodding to Talon as they always did. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Wynny.”

  For that, I slugged him in the shoulder.

  “Ow!”

  “You deserved it. You know I can take care of myself, Talon. Even against Ovailia, no matter how much she pesters me about my ‘oh so mysterious past’.” I couldn’t help but moan and wave my hands through the air in false mockery.

  Talon sighed. “I’m going to have to talk to Ilyan about her. Again.”

  “Please don’t. I keep hoping she will slip and tell me something I don’t know.” I gave him a look. He knew that look and exhaled with as much frustration as I had come to expect from him. “You made Ilyan bind our tongues, Wynny. You locked your past. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

  I knew that, but it was still frustrating. “Okay, then make it up to me. Tell me what Ilyan isn’t telling us. What’s going on with Joclyn?”

  “You know I can’t tell you everything Ilyan tells me. Besides, I don’t know what is going on with Joclyn.”

  “Really?” We had both noticed how weird the phone calls with her had been lately. Ilyan was even more protective than he was usually. Something was going on.

  “Joclyn is—” His voice dropped as another group of Skȓíteks came around the corner, following the scent of Mernine Stew that was quickly filling the halls. Talon grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the orchard, letting the fruit trees surround us as though they could mask our conversation.

  “Is that why we are hiding in the orchard now? Because you don’t know?” I was teasing him, and he knew it.

  “I will say this. He was asking Ovailia about Sain.”

  “Sain?” The word was a shriek and he shushed me, dragging me deeper into the trees.

  “I only heard part of the conversation. I’m not sure what they were talking about, but it wasn’t about the sight—”

  “Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!” We both turned at the shout.

  Anything he had been about to say faded away as a shriek echoed through the large orchard, the feminine shout high pitched and in English. That alone was weird, we usually spoke Czech when we were at home.

  “Did you hear that?” I took a step closer as an indistinguishable scream drifted through the trees. This one softer, as though they were being dragged away.

  “I did.”

  “You can’t have her! I won’t tell you anything!”

  “That’s not normal,” I mumbled, sending my magic away as I tried to search for whoever was making the noise. But the orchard was too big, and my magic was not skilled in scans.

  My blood had turned to ice. Imdalind was a place of safety. Calm. Screams like that didn’t happen here, not unless…

  “Something is wrong…”

  We exchanged a look before we took off, darting into the orchard in search of the voice.

  In search of whatever might have followed us home.

  Sixty-Three

  Wyn

  After five hours of searching the orchard we had found nothing and no one.

  No source of the screaming. There wasn’t even a sign of a fight.

  We had even called everyone to the meeting hall to do a roll call. But no one was missing. No one had seen anything.

  It was as though there was a ghost.

  I would think I was going mad if Talon hadn’t heard the voice too.

  It didn’t make it any less frustrating, though. Someone was hurt, and we couldn’t find them.

  My frustration was bordering on fury, which is why I had dragged Talon to the large caverns that were used for magical training.

  And sparring.

  I let all the frustration out in a blast of magic that soared across the large stone hall, beelining to Talon, who had graciously agreed to be my partner for this unleashing of the fury titans.

  The look that he gave me as he dodged the attack made me wonder if he was regretting the decision.

  “Do I need to go easy on you, old man?” I yelled across the cave to him, the Styx that I had playing in the background echoing around us. He rolled his eyes at me. He might be a few hundred years older than me, but we both knew that that didn’t mean jack.

  “Hell no!” He yelled over to me and set his feet in a fighting stance.

  “Okay, if you say so.” I gave him a second to rethink before I let all of that icy magic boil inside me, the waves of my power moving over my skin like a winter wind. I sent it toward him, intent on destroying the wall just to his left and showering him with rock.

  It was one of my favorite things to do, make things explode. Normally, I would send the attack to the stone right before him, but I liked Talon and I did actually want to take him home in one piece.

  He, however, knew what I was doing and threw up a shield, casually stepping to the side as he sent his own strings of magic to me. I threw up my own shield, although this was made of stone which shattered under the impact of his attack and showered me with shards of rock.

  It was made even better by the song in the background. I was sure we looked like we were in some 70s sci-fi battle royale.

  I nearly fell to the ground laughing. “Figures I would do what I was trying to do to you, to myself.”

  Talon’s answering chuckle wasn’t nearly as confident as mine. I popped my head above the rubble and gave him a smile and a wave. He visibly relaxed, until I sent another attack right at him. This time I didn’t hold back.

  I went for the stone under his feet.

  This was where the differences in my magic against Talon’s magic became really noticeable. Skȓíteks manipulate things like air and fire to an amazing ability, whereas Trpaslíks harness the power of the earth like it’s an obedient house dog.

  We both can use the other, but never as well. I could never throw a fire spear like Talon could, for instance. Which is why I jumped to the side, cursing at myself that I had missed him building that. My attack fizzed uselessly against the stone, while Talon’s singed the shoulder of the shirt I was wearing, my skin burning hot as the attack made contact.

  Crap! I was going down.

  “Wynny!”

  I landed on the stone, hard. My bare arm smashed against the stone with an impact that sent the ground vibrating underneath me as though I was a hundred ton boulder and not a tiny one-hundred-ten pound female.

  Talon went down as the ripples of my impact hit him, sending him to his knees. His eyes were wider than I had ever seen them, the grey-green orbs shaking as he froze. Both of us looked at each other.

  “What was that?” My voice was shaking as I sat up, watching the ground ripple as though I was a stone in a pond. “What in the world?”

  “Wynifred! Are you okay?” Talon pushed himself up, practically sprinting the distance between us. Talon was clearly panicked, not only did he call me
Wynifred, something he never did, but he looked like he had seen a ghost.

  “Yeah,” I shook my head and looked at my hands, wondering if I was covered with blood or something with the way he was looking at me. Nothing was there but a few scrapes from where I had tried to catch myself and failed. Well, that and the black tattoos from the curse I carried.

  Those covered the entire right side of my body, and always would.

  “Yeah,” I repeated, “I just lost track of my magic. I think.”

  We both knew that was a giant lie. I never lost track of my magic. I went to push myself up, but the second my hands made contact with the ground the same thing happened. The ground shook, ripples of earth moving away as though I had somehow turned it to water.

  “What the hell?” I stared at my hands, trying to figure out what was going on. I had felt my magic flare that time. Except it hadn’t felt like my magic at all. It had felt warm. Almost hot. Like it was flames inside of me.

  As I looked at my hands, however, the heat vanished, leaving me with just the icy cold waves I was used to.

  “Wynifred,” Talon’s voice was right in my ear, both of us kneeling on the stone as he held his hands out to me. “Let me see.”

  I gave him my hands, but instead of looking at the cuts on my palms, or feeling my magic, he turned my right hand over, his eyes glancing over the marks on my arm. As though they were responsible for whatever had just happened.

  “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine. Although I would like to know what the hell just happened.” I snatched my hand back.

  “It’s just like the tourney in Milan, with Philip,” he chuckled, eyeing me nervously. I wasn’t even sure he was talking to me. This whole thing was getting weird. I was the composed one. The powerful one. The one that liked to explode things while REO Speedwagon blasted on my Ghetto Blaster. But right then I was really, really freaked out.

  “Milan? What are you talking about?” I pushed myself to stand, carefully placing my hands on the stone. Thankfully nothing happened.