Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)

Home > Other > Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) > Page 28
Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) Page 28

by Rebecca Ethington


  I grit my teeth and looked away from him, knowing now was not the time to question him.

  Wyn stood just across the courtyard from me, her body stiff as she watched me. She jerked forward like she wanted to run to me, like she needed to say something, anything. Neither of us moved, our words trapped deep inside. Her focus lingered on me as she removed her shoes and placed them in her backpack, the large, dark orbs of her eyes saying what I didn’t want to hear, what she couldn’t say.

  What I couldn’t say.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say the words that would come next; to say goodbye.

  When we had charged into Ryland’s manor, we had been outnumbered, but not to this extent, and there was something in the air that made everything feel more final.

  More like the end.

  I pinched my eyes shut at the thought, blocking Wyn from view as I pulled at my recall, the visions from the sight filling me, image after image of Ilyan fighting by my side, Ilyan screaming as he held my body, the stones of the abbey in the background.

  My chest heaved and stuttered as I tried to breathe, my eyes opening to the empty courtyard, ready to face what was ahead of me.

  “Are you ready?” Ilyan asked, his voice a powerful torrent of faith and confidence.

  I nodded once and straightened my shoulders, letting the map Ilyan had placed in my mind flood me. The plan was so well laid out that my confidence shifted and grew with the knowledge of what was to come.

  “Yes.”

  Ilyan’s warm hand wrapped around mine, although I didn’t turn to face him. I stared straight ahead, the dark legs of the trees against the flickering fire a beacon of what was to come.

  I squeezed Ilyan’s hand back once, his pride and power pulsing in return before our legs pumped in unison, taking us toward our first destination; toward whatever was to come.

  Together.

  Twenty-Two

  The lightning erupted a few feet from us as we flew through the trees, the thunder shaking my bones at the exact moment that the trees erupted in light. I jumped at the sound, the temporary daylight illuminating just enough of the camps below us that I felt my skin crawl.

  I chanced a glance at them before darting back up into the thicker growth of tree limbs and their shadows. I gripped one scratchy limb after another as I pulled myself through the trees, the soft, dewy leaves brushing against my face as I sped past them.

  A jagged razor of light cut through the forest a few seconds after the first, the storm seeming to follow us through the trees as we made our way to our final destination. I could see the camp we were headed toward just ahead, my mind circling the land with a ring of glittering green as it compelled me forward. Our target was about two miles from the camp that Ovailia and Edmund’s guard occupied—the camp where Edmund would be within a few short hours if Sain’s sight was correct.

  I could hear the words repeat over and over in Ilyan’s mind, the sight mixing seamlessly with the plan he had given us. For hundreds of years Ilyan had fought this war and prepared for this battle, and suddenly, it had come. The moment that it had, however, he had begun to question everything that he had prepared for. His determination to protect me and to defeat his father cycled through with his need to keep me alive. Every possibility his mind created rotated around the conflicting sights that we were now being faced with.

  I grabbed hold of a large branch as I swung to a stop, my grip tight as I hung precariously over the forest floor far below me. The air buzzed with electricity as a lightning bolt struck behind us, the jagged bolt lighting up the large camp that Ilyan had specified for our first attack.

  The Trpaslíks were already awake and moving about in worried aggression, their magic prickling in the anger of the storm, of the final battle they believed to be hours away. My face fell at seeing the numbers of them, the attack that Ilyan had hoped to begin before they even awoke already spoiled. We would have our work cut out for us if we wanted to come out of this unscathed.

  The heavy thunder shook through me as a jagged bolt of light came down on top of us, my muscles tensing as I fought my nerves. I expected rain to start falling at any minute, to soak the world and put out the fires that had already begun. I knew better, this storm was not for the tears of the earth. This storm was in anger.

  I looked up at Ilyan from the large branch where I hung, his jaw tight as he glared into the camp, his eyes dark and trembling. I could already see the raw power burn into the world around him, feel his magic peak within and around me as he prepared to fight. His excitement burned into me, and I almost smiled.

  Make sure Ovailia and the guard are where they need to be.

  I could only nod at his request, the deep voice I almost never heard directed at me, detailing the severity of our situation. My magic soared through the trees and away from me as I closed my eyes to see, cringing as the rotten magic from the tent below us hit me, my stomach tightening in disgust before I sped past it in search of my prey.

  I couldn’t help but revel in the brilliancy of Ilyan’s plan. Ovailia was close enough that once she heard of our arrival, she wouldn’t be able to stay away. Yet, thanks to the density of the trees that separated us from them, they wouldn’t know we had arrived right away.

  It didn’t take me long to locate Ovailia, her magic surging in expectation as she sat in the larger camp just beyond the gentle rise of the forest.

  She paced along the edge, her eyes constantly darting up to the large field beside her where I was sure she expected Edmund to arrive from, and judging by her behavior, he was already late.

  She’s there. We don’t have much time, I said, my voice shaking as much as my hands were.

  Ilyan caught my nerves, his magic flaring as he jumped over the few branches that separated us to land right above me. His magic kindled as he lifted me up to him, his power a soft caress against my body as I flew into the tight grip of his arms.

  We stood against each other as the sky cut apart, his soft hand running over my cheek as my magic reacted, sending warm vibrations into me. The strength of our magic moved together, our power ready for what we were about to plunge ourselves into.

  “I have trained you for this; you are ready,” he promised, his voice a whisper as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against my forehead.

  The warmth from the kiss seeped through me, lighting me on fire and supercharging my magic until I could feel it buzz into my blood stream. I nodded once at him in understanding, his answering smile illuminating the maniacal light that was in his eyes.

  I didn’t need him to say anything to understand what that look meant. I smiled as the warmth in his hand grew, his fingertips soft as they traced the line of my jaw before his touch was gone and the last precious beat of our time was over.

  I closed my eyes as my magic stretched and I exhaled, stepping away from Ilyan’s hold, off the branch and into the open air below me.

  The air rushed passed me as my magic stretched away, my hand stretching forward to wrap around the strong branch that extended from the tree. I swung from branch to branch as I had so many times before. Adrenaline beat through me as I felt the tree warning me of what was coming, guiding me through the correct path of limbs, thunder covering our descent.

  It was as natural as breathing.

  I dropped to the ground before Ilyan did, my red shoes silent against the forest floor as I landed. My magic prickled in excitement as I stood, Ilyan landing right beside me just as another flash of light cut through the sky.

  The garden of tents that we had landed in sprouted up like weeds, the filthy white canvases casting shadows and creating dangers that we hadn’t really planned for. We had expected them to be asleep, but now they could be anywhere, a wrong turn could easily end in our failure.

  I stretched my magic through the tents from where I stood, seeking out the location of each of our enemies. My magic pulsed the information right into Ilyan without me having to focus on it. I saw him nod once from where he stood, his excitement flar
ing as the precise plan of what was going to happen fell into place. Ilyan’s hand trailed up my back as he stepped in front of me, his muscles tensing under his t-shirt as he led the way.

  We darted through the darkness between the tents, hiding among the canvas city with each lightning strike. Every few tents, Ilyan’s magic would prickle, the air shimmering as he placed a shield over one of the many filthy tents, blocking the inhabitants from sound and sealing them inside. Ilyan’s intent to save as many lives as he could was clear.

  Part of me wished he wouldn’t, that we could just wipe them out and finish this war in one clean fight. I knew better, though. Ilyan wasn’t only King of the Skȓíteks, but of the Trpaslíks as well, and even if they didn’t recognize that, Ilyan still held the same respect for them as he did for all of his other subjects.

  Our subjects.

  I shook the thought from my mind as we moved around another tent. My magic flared in caution and I reached toward Ilyan on instinct, the painful warning coming a second too late. My fingers wrapped around Ilyan’s arm just as a Trpaslík came to face us, his eyes widening in confusion before the light of anger clicked in understanding. The Trpaslík’s brain moved far too slow to grant him an escape, however; his mouth opened in warning just as the ground began to shake with Ilyan’s magic, the dirt shifting as it swallowed him whole. A wave of dirt sealed itself over him, leaving only a small salad plate-sized patch of hair visible, the small spot almost indistinguishable amongst the dirt. The man had disappeared before any sound had escaped him, the whole process moving so fast that I didn’t fully understand what I had seen.

  I stood still as I stared at the ground in awe, my body moving forward only when Ilyan grabbed my hand and led me off in the opposite direction. We had only darted down another dark trail of the maze when voices yelling about earthquakes sounded through the jungle of tents, the voices drowned out by yet another rumble of fire in the sky.

  Stay close to me, my love, Ilyan pleaded, his hand warming against mine before he released it.

  He didn’t need to tell me twice, I could already feel the magic of the enemies that surrounded us awaken; the sharp, angry points of their terror and want of blood shaking through me until I fought the need to vomit. Their magic had changed from apprehension to the bubbling torrent of a blood hungry war. I could almost hear their teeth gnash together as they scattered, darting between tents. Searching for us.

  They are coming, I said to Ilyan.

  The muscles in his back rippled as his magic did, his excitement flaring aggressively just as a small Trpaslík darted between the tents before us. I jumped at his appearance, but Ilyan wasted no time. He spun on the spot, grabbing the man’s head between his hands as he jerked it to the side, his magic severing the man’s tendons as his hands broke his bones.

  The Trpaslík crumbled to the ground like a rag doll, my eyes widening at the now lifeless man that Ilyan had dropped at my feet.

  “Come on,” Ilyan growled, his hand wrapping around mine as he pulled me after him, our feet taking us closer to our destination. Toward the center of the camp and the large fire that most of the Trpaslíks had gathered around. I could feel it just ahead of us.

  I dropped Ilyan’s hand as I ran behind him through the maze of dirty canvas, the dead leaves crunching beneath my feet in loud slaps. I could smell the rot of the food, the smoke of a fire, but I heard nothing except thunder. My heart growled with a quick, painful pulse as we darted through the horrifying blindness the tents had created, sure our enemy was behind the next turn. And the next.

  Another Trpaslík jumped in front of us as we ran, his face wide with a grin as he found his bounty, obviously expecting to do us in and win a great honor.

  He didn’t even get a chance to try. Ilyan stuttered the moment he saw him, his body vanishing from between me and the Trpaslík. My jaw grit in determined fear as Ilyan left me exposed, my fists clenching as I tried to convince myself I was ready to fight. The Trpaslík grinned at the change, his yellow teeth flashing before I felt Ilyan’s magic surge, his tall body reappearing unseen behind the Trpaslík who faced me.

  A giant line of glittering black extended from Ilyan’s hand as it cut through the air, moving through the solid flesh of the Trpaslík as he cut him in half. I could see the look of pain in the Trpaslík’s eyes, his mouth opening in a scream only to have blood seep from his mouth as he tumbled to the ground, his fingers twitching in death.

  My heart thundered painfully as I watched the Trpaslík collapse into a heap, just as another one darted through the tents, a battle cry on his lips. He attempted to ram Ilyan but Ilyan’s hands stopped the tiny man’s progress before he made it even half way. I was frozen in place as our enemy’s screams were silenced with a simple movement of Ilyan’s hand.

  It was too late, though. With that one scream, he had given away our position, and I could already feel them closing in on us.

  The aggressive warning of my magic rocked through me and I turned just as two husky Trpaslíks burst through the tent behind me, the canvas tearing to shreds as they ripped it apart in their fury.

  White hot dread tightened through me as I saw them, the feeling of terror gripping me in an iron fist as my two attackers smiled, their wide grins snapping through me.

  I stood frozen in fear, staring into the smile of death, my death. I could stand and die, or fight. Ilyan had trained me for only one thing.

  And I was ready.

  My fear vanished at the blood thirsty look in their eyes. The filthy touch of their magic ignited something else, something that I hadn’t felt before. A mad power rippled and warmed through me in a dangerous energy—energy that promised I could do anything.

  I smiled as they approached me, my magic erupting as I sent a wave of electricity toward them, knocking them off their feet. They shook with the mild pulse before I clapped my hands together. A straight path of lightning shot from my fingers, the crackling white light digging into their chests and frying their nervous systems. They couldn’t even have moved if they tried.

  My heart clenched with the knowledge of what I had done, the fear and regret growing before another Trpaslík darted behind me, his quick attack catching me off guard and burning through my shield. I screamed as fire spread through my bones, folding my body together painfully before my magic fought it, the burn leaving as my powerful magic counteracted what I was sure was supposed to have been a death blow.

  I rose to face him, but Ilyan had already dropped my attacker to the ground in his panic to protect me. His eyes were wide in fear as he looked to me.

  My breaths came in deep pants as I attempted to rebalance. My magic and my body felt jittery as adrenaline and fear ran rampant through my blood stream.

  Ilyan said nothing as he stepped over the bodies between us. He didn’t need to; I could feel it all, the heart-stopping fear as he had heard my scream repeating through his mind, the loss and devastation that still shook him. His warm hand wound around mine as he led me away, closer to the center of camp and the tent that was our target.

  I just hoped we had enough time. If the Trpaslíks were seeking us out, there was no guarantee that Ovailia wouldn’t already know of our arrival.

  I could hear the heavy footfalls as our enemies closed in, their magic growing and flaring from all sides as they surrounded us. I clenched onto Ilyan’s hand, sure he felt it, too, just as we moved through the final ring of tents, breaking free of the horrifying labyrinth, to face hundreds of Trpaslíks who stood around the red and purple fire, waiting for us.

  They all looked up at our arrival, wicked smiles illuminating their eyes with a maniacal light that seemed to scream of our death. I could tell by the way they licked their lips—the way their fingers crackled and pulsed with power—that they thought this would be a quick end to the man they had hunted for so long.

  They were wrong.

  I smiled at the looks on their faces, smiled because they thought they had the upper hand. I could see the canvas walls of the Vil�
��’s tent just beyond the crowd, the whole thing vibrating from the diseased creatures that had been restrained inside. That was where we needed to get to, the first major step in Ilyan’s plan. By the look of fury in the Trpaslíks’ eyes, though, they were going to make this harder than I would have liked.

  My magic prickled as I pushed it away from me, my mind creating a map of the exact placement of every Trpaslík that surrounded us. The surge of their anger influenced my magic until it prickled under my skin. The power ran through me, the anger that Cail had infused me with finding an outlet, and I smiled, eager to begin.

  My fingers sparked as I stepped in front of Ilyan, my hands spreading wide as I showed them the power that was waiting to escape, the magic that wanted to end this as much as I did.

  The power continued to swell as I held it inside of me, the heat of my attack pressing against my skin, ready to explode. I saw the fear in the eyes of the Trpaslíks closest to us as their understanding peaked, yet it was too late.

  My magic exploded in a rush of air and fire that spread away with the strength of a bomb. It burned through the fabric of the tents, and through the bodies of those who were closest to me. It washed over the entire camp as the smiles and jeers of a hopeful victory turned to yells and screams of agony and death.

  Lines of men that had surrounded us fell, their screams evaporating into the air as their bodies hit the ground, never to rise again. The screams spread through the circle as the attack broadened, the sounds rippling away as more and more of them began to understand what was happening, the weak running away while the strong stepped forward, ready to face us.

  To face me.

  I was sure Ovailia had heard the screams, had seen the fire light the sky, and felt the residual waves of the attack. If she hadn’t been aware that we were coming for her already, she was now, and we hadn’t even blown the tent yet. Time was not on our side.

  I only hoped Edmund had not arrived yet.

  Get the tent, I ordered, hoping that Ilyan wouldn’t second guess a command given by me as I rushed away from him toward the survivors who were charging me, their battle cry loud in my ears.

 

‹ Prev