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

by Ethington, Rebecca

  I began to follow him, my steps mirroring his. We raced through a large, open area. I could see the tree line of the forest that surrounded the abbey clearly and the moon that hung above the trees, the face of the sleeping man I had grown up whispering my secrets to so clear on the textured surface.

  As I followed Thom’s lead, my magic peaked at some distant power I could not place. I fought the need to stop and investigate the new, unwanted energy that was buzzing through the air, but continued on. I could usually determine anyone I had met before by the feeling of their magic, but this was either too far away, or someone I didn’t know. I brushed the feeling away, my nerves readying themselves for an attack.

  Thom tiptoed through rubble as he led our way to the only remaining turret in the area. The tall pillar of stone still housed the large cathedral bell. The tower worked best as a guardhouse, which is what Thom had been using it as. My muscles tensed as we climbed, the silence dragging on and on, leaving me to worry about what Thom had found.

  I could desperately grasp at the hope of seeing Ovailia burst through the trees that surrounded the abbey, Ryland’s body in her arms, but I knew better. Thom would have given me more information if it was good news.

  The large, wooden door at the top of the spiral staircase opened of its own accord, and I felt Thom move up onto the large platform above. I followed him up; moonlight filtered through the rounded stone opening, casting confusing shadows on the walls around us. The ancient bell hung from a wound rope the width of my arm, dust sprinkling down around it as the rope creaked and moved in the breeze. I stood against it, looking over the fields and forest that surrounded us.

  “Are you there?” Thom whispered, his reluctance to be heard flushing through me like ice.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you see?”

  I scanned the trees, the dark shapes barely visible against the night. I looked above them in hopes of finding what he was talking about when a bright yellow light popped through them.

  The yellow-gold flickers of a fire were nestled between the trees, casting a shadow through the dark stumps and making long, bright fingers amongst the strips of black. Several bodies cut off the light as they moved around the fire, making the intimidating shadows flicker and move.

  I watched the light for a moment, trying to make sense of it when another light flickered through the trees. One after another they appeared, disappeared, and re-appeared as bodies and objects moved in front of them.

  There were dozens of them.

  My heart thumped heavily in my chest as I watched the lights flicker, the magical pulses going on and off. The magical current I had felt before washed over me again, the strength of it tingling up my spine. The magical flow wasn’t one I recognized, not against the familiar cold spikes of the Trpaslíks.

  “Ovailia has brought her army, I see?” I couldn’t help the wicked smile that spread across my face, the pulse of my magic as it alerted me to its wish for battle.

  “Are you really surprised?” Thom was smug. I ignored him.

  “How many camps?”

  “Eight,” Thom began, his frustration seeping into his deadpan voice. “They weren’t there when we first arrived, so they must have come sometime in the last few days.”

  I sighed heavily. We hadn’t been keeping as heavy a guard as we should have been. Our first two nights here we had taken turns at watch while the others ate and slept, but last night we hadn’t posted one at all.

  I watched the lights before turning to leave, using my magic to pull Thom behind me. I moved quickly, my steps were much louder than they should have been but I was keen to put some distance between the assembling army and us. They knew we were here, after all, no amount of tiptoeing could keep them from pounding down our door when the order was given to attack.

  The second we moved past the open stretch of rubble, I released my shield, bringing my body back into sight.

  “So, now that you know Ovailia is good and truly a bastard, what do we do?” I didn’t turn at Thom’s voice, the hardness of it expected. I could feel the same anger rippling through my body, just under the skin.

  I turned to face him, my taller than average frame towering over him. He looked up to me, his eyes, so much like a child’s, wide and pleading.

  “There is not much we can do. We stay here. We wait for Joclyn to wake and hope that Ovailia brings her mate to her.”

  “Ovailia? She has brought an army to surround us and you want to wait for her?”

  I nodded once before turning away from him, my steps taking me back the way we had come.

  “Why, Ilyan?” he said as he came up beside me, his legs working double time to keep up with my longer strides. The muscles in my neck tensed. I really didn’t need to explain myself to him, but his question was understandable given their history.

  “Because she will have Ryland,” I said, keeping my voice strong and distant. “Ryland is the key to waking Joclyn. Once Joclyn wakes, we will be able to face the Trpaslíks that surround us.”

  I smiled, the visions from the sight flying into me. Saying it aloud somehow sealed her fate, making her the one that would defeat my father and assuring that she would become the beautiful warrior I had seen.

  “Why can’t we just attack them now?” Thom asked. I couldn’t help but laugh, the hearty sound of my voice sounding odd against the tension that still rippled off both of us.

  I stopped again to face him, the door to my suite only a few steps away. I could already feel my heart pull me toward the door, my magic stretching to ensure her safety.

  “You would attack twenty or more Trpaslíks with only you, me and a Drak?” I raised my eyebrow at him, the dare for him to answer evident.

  While I might be able to defeat more than half that amount on a wet day, I knew Thom had always struggled with his ability. Being the son of an un-bonded mortal had always made him weaker than the rest of us. Dramin would prove little help at all. Draks had no defensive magic. There was no other way to put it. It was the reason my father had been able to exterminate them so easily.

  Thom shook his head and looked away from me, his answer evident in his eyes. I ignored the bristle I felt at his lack of respect, but kept it at bay, reminding myself that my role as a ruler had died with my people. Not like I had taken it seriously in the first place.

  “We will watch them. We need to set a more consistent guard—which between the three of us may prove impossible, but we must do what we can.” I set orders as I always had, Thom’s back straightening in preparation to obey. “If we can make an adequate map of where their camps are, it will help us to attack without incident when the time comes.”

  Thom nodded once in understanding, the nervous energy that was flowing off him receding with my words.

  “Thom, get some sleep. I will watch from here, dnes večer, strengthen our shield, and develop a clearer plan.”

  Thom nodded in respect as he turned from me, the thick strands of his hair swinging as he walked down the hall toward his room. I watched him put the tiny buds back into his ears before he turned the corner, leaving me alone in the dark corridor.

  I couldn’t ignore the thrum of my heart any longer, the pull moved against my skin like the crawling of a hundred emotions washing over the surface. My shield released from around Joclyn as I entered the room, bringing her back into view.

  A few more days and she would wake.

  If Edmund had already sent Trpaslíks after us, then Ovailia couldn’t be more than a day behind. Soon, I would wake her.

  No, Ryland would wake her.

  If Edmund had sent Ovailia with him at all.

  I straightened my back and walked away from her, toward the window. I could still feel the need to be near her, but for now, I needed to prove that I was stronger than my desire.

  The breeze that came in through the high arches of the windows swirled around me, the mingled magic of the men who stood around us in preparation for attack evident to me now. The power was weak,
but it was there. I could feel their anticipation, the nerves and excitement.

  The hairs on my arms prickled as my energy rippled over my skin, my alert power tingling, desperate to be used. I always kept so much of my magic restrained for safety reasons. It was only in battle that I could freely feel my magic flow through me, that I could be free. My energy rippled now; the maniacal energy setting me on fire in eager anticipation.

  The danger had followed us to our door once again. The time was coming, closer and closer. I could feel the tick in my blood, beating like a clock, signaling its arrival.

  We just needed Sleeping Beauty to wake.

  “He will tear us apart. Rozdělí nás. Jestli chceš vidět konec, dej mi své srdce..” I spoke the words of Joclyn’s sight silently, the words sounding like a deep prayer of mass when whispered in Czech.

  Give me your heart.

  Hadn’t I done that already? Hadn’t I promised her every beat that it possessed when I first held her in my arms during the sight eight hundred years ago?

  Yes, but I had also taken it away.

  I had taken away her claim on me when I made the decision not to break the bond between her and her mate. My brother. Could I break that bond now, after all I had sacrificed, after all I had promised her? No, it was not in me to be so cruel.

  My back was still toward her as my heart beat for her; love and confusion swelling inside of me. I didn’t need to look at her to feel my conviction continue to cement itself within me. I could see her beauty, her strength, her power. I could see her weakness and the hold it had on her vanishing slowly every day. I could hear her laugh and see the way she wrinkled her nose. I could see the flash of her silver eyes when she was upset.

  She was amazing.

  I would do anything to protect her, to help her, to let her become what she wanted and needed to be. I would give her my heart, she had it until it beat its last.

  The tops of the trees reached toward the moon, the shadows dark and deep. I loved this view, the natural beauty of the world that modern man had destroyed. There were so few places on earth where you could find that peace anymore. Places that I had walked through, loved, worshiped and explored through my hundreds of years had all been overrun with what others were calling progress.

  The energy of the earth radiated from the ground, the natural force strong here; whereas, in the cities of the world, the natural power was covered and poisoned until it no longer existed.

  The thought came to me before I could stop it, the desire to hold Joclyn as we looked out at this beautiful view, as we felt the magic of the earth together, because I knew she could. So many of our kind never could, but she would. I wanted to see her face when she did.

  I wanted to show her the beauty in the world, not just the sadness.

  I wanted to give her my heart openly, and I wanted her to take it.

  One Hundred Twenty-Two

  Ryland

  Everything felt fuzzy, and yet the world was in sharper focus every day.

  I still had outbursts. I still had fits of panic. But the further from Cail Ovailia took me, the more his hold on me decreased. I could remember more, and so many of my thoughts were my own.

  There was one thing that I hadn’t been able to get away from.

  ‘And you never will. You will always be mine to control. Otherwise you are useless. To everyone.’

  I flinched at the voice and sat back in the hard chair that Ovailia had commanded me to sit in. I didn’t have it in me to complain. I was too tired after nearly a week of being on the road.

  Besides, I knew where we were. Ilyan was close. I just had to get to him, then Ilyan could help me.

  Ilyan had her.

  ‘He’s kept her. He’s claimed her. She’s no longer yours.’

  “No!” I snapped at the voice, causing Ovailia’s head to twist to mine from where she paced on the other side of the canvas tent that the Trpaslíks had brought us to.

  I hadn’t seen much of the camp hidden in the Spanish forest before we had been tucked into the tent, out of the sight of the Trpaslíks who wandered through the camp and guarded muddy brown tents dirtier than I had ever seen.

  It was an army camp, and in the distance the high turrets of what looked like an ancient castle.

  I had to assume that was where Ilyan was.

  ‘Where you will kill him.’

  “No!”

  “No what, Ryland?” she crooned in that sugar-sweet voice, beelining for me as I began to rock and pull at my hair.

  ‘You will never get me out. Just like Ilyan will never get me out. He has taken everything from you—’

  “NO!” I screamed that time, jumping to my feet as though I was going to find the voice and destroy him. Instead, I tugged and ripped at my hair.

  “No?” Ovailia asked, piecing it together as my father’s voice in my head laughed. “You still think you won’t do exactly what we want when the time comes?”

  ‘You will. You will kill her. You will kill both of them.’

  “No.” I wasn’t so sure that time and I sat back down in the hard chair, going back to rocking and tugging as the flap to the tent opened and Timothy strutted in, flanked by two Trpaslíks.

  “Ovailia! We didn’t expect you for another week!” He crooned, arms opened wide. His usual three piece suit was flawless. He didn’t look as though he had been leading an army in the middle of nowhere for weeks on end. Well, except for the mud that was tracked on his shoes. I stared at it as I rocked, the normalcy of it pulling me back down to earth.

  “Well, we had something come up.” She stepped aside, revealing me as I rocked on the chair. His eyes went dark.

  “You are sending him in?”

  “Yes. Before I do, we will need to go over plans and prepare for the attack lest something go wrong. Then I will take him in.” They were both looking at me now, both smiling.

  “Are you sure it is wise, you taking him in? I have many others who would take him close. Let him stumble in on his own.” Timothy asked, suddenly nervous.

  “How else are we supposed to gather intel on their situation. Although, I don’t anticipate Ilyan letting me stay longer than it would take him to question me and find me a traitor, but I have every intention of getting as much information as I can before I leave Rioseco and return here.”

  I looked up from the mud on Timothy’s shoes, Ovailia stood facing the stalky man, looking every bit an elegant Skȓítek against the squat Trpaslík. Her sheet of blonde hair fell down her leather jacket, her shoes still red and unmarred. Timothy looked up at her with his dark eyes, the two staring each other down.

  My mind slipped into deeper clarity for a moment, more of the tent coming into focus as Timothy stepped closer.

  “Is that the only reason you are here, Ovailia? Where is my son?”

  “Doing what my father, your master, has asked of him. He is placing his own pawn, and once he is done, he will join us here. How are the preparations coming?” Ovailia shook her head, sending her hair shimmering and the guards eyes turning. Timothy wasn’t deterred however, he was looking right at me, eyes narrowed.

  ‘See, even he doesn’t trust you.’

  I moaned at the voice and began to rock. Timothy’s stare only grew more intense.

  “How do we know we can trust him? Is he still attached to Cail.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Ovailia said with a flick of her hand. “I have it all under control. Don't I Ryland?”

  “No, please no.” The words snaked out in a sob as she stepped closer, long nails tapping on her jeans as a few sparks of magic flew out.

  “He may not be connected to dear, old Cail; but he is still going to do exactly what we want. One look at Ilyan… holding Joclyn. Loving Joclyn. Kissing—”

  “No! I’m going to kill him!” I was up, heart pounding, vision swirling, what little control of my mind that I had slipping away as I prepared to lunge through the flaps of the tent. I was ready to take off into the air, soar right to the cast
le and rip Ilyan’s head off.

  Before I could move a step, Ovailia flicked her finger and chains wound around my ankles and wrists, snapping me back down into the chair.

  ‘Soon. Soon you will do the only thing you are good for. You will make Ilyan pay.’

  “Pay.” I repeated the word, my mind flooding with images of Ilyan’s head being removed from his body. It was beautiful.

  No… it was wrong…

  I couldn’t do this. He was the only one who could help me.

  ‘Help you what? Do you think you are worth helping?’

  “Yes,” I moaned, slamming my back against the chair. “Yes.”

  ‘No. You are worthless, and the only thing you are good at is making Ilyan pay.’

  “Pay.”

  ‘He took Joclyn from you. Hurt him. Hurt her. Make them pay.’

  “Pay! Kill! Kill Ilyan!” I yelled and fought against the chains again, pulling both Ovailia and Timothy’s focus from some war plans that they had been going over, and I had missed thanks to the insanity in my head.

  I barely got a glimpse of the large map of where we were, and the hundreds of dots surrounding that old stone abbey, before it was rolled up and carted away by the two Trpaslík guards that had followed Timothy in.

  “I told you that you shouldn’t worry,” Ovailia said with a smile. “Everything is going to plan.”

  “Plan? Ilyan won’t let him anywhere near him if all he does is scream about how he wants to kill him.” Timothy was skeptical. Ovailia was victorious. I continued to slam my back against the chair.

  “Don’t worry. I have a plan for that too. Now leave us. I have a few items of business to attend to before we deliver our weapon to my dear older brother.”

  Timothy gave Ovailia a scowl, but did not complain as he left, the tent flap falling quietly back in place, leaving Ovailia and I alone.

  She smiled as she looked at me, as she stepped closer. I recoiled under her gaze, pressing myself into the chair as the sounds of the camp bled through the canvas.