Scorched Treachery (Imdalind #3)

by Rebecca Ethington

  “Ne,” I gasped when I found it. She had a broken bone in her leg. The break was clean and ran right through her tibia, and I was sure she had not had it when we entered the training room.

  “What?” Thom had moved up to kneel next to her head, and strangely, the anger in his voice was leaving, concern seeping through in a slow trickle.

  “Her leg is broken,” I said, not willing to accept it myself.

  “Broken?” Dramin leaned down next to me, his hand moving against her head. I could feel his magic move into her alongside mine, the heavy tendrils of the Drak magic cold against my own. He gasped when he felt it and withdrew his hand, his magic leaving with the loss of contact.

  I wrapped the bone in a hard layer of my magic, giving it a strong internal cast to help heal it. I didn’t know how long it would take with her strangely vacant magic unable to do most of the work itself.

  “What is he doing to her, Ilyan?” Thom moved away as he spoke, his fear at the power of our father obviously affecting him.

  Edmund was torturing her, hurting her, intentionally. He had done the same to me more than a dozen times – every time he had somehow managed to capture me. It was his favorite game, causing pain.

  He had tortured and killed mortals in front of me, hoping to break me or drive me mad. The only contact I had ever received from him had been meant to hurt me. Now he was doing the same to Joclyn, the only one my heart called to, the person I would protect with my own life.

  Edmund had been hurting her, through Cail, for months in the nightmares, and I had held her as I took away the fears and wiped the anxiety from her mind. I had protected her in a way no one else could until I was able to find a way to make them stop. But now, Edmund had found a way to hurt her, really hurt her, in a place I could not follow.

  Or could I?

  “I need to get in there.” I stood quickly, ignoring the gasps from the men on either side of me, my focus only on Joclyn’s body.

  “What do you mean ‘get in there’?” Thom asked.

  “I mean, go into the Tȍuha and get her out. Wake her up.” I squared my shoulders, still unwilling to look away from her.

  “Is that even possible? You can’t find the bridge.” Dramin’s voice was quiet.

  “I will find it when I join my mind with hers, nemyslíš?” I clenched my jaw, my mind working in preparation for what I was suggesting.

  “This is ridiculous, Ilyan,” Thom pleaded. “’Jít tam. You would only be stuck in there. Dramin has seen her wake. We just need to wait.”

  “Wait?” I scoffed at Thom’s reasoning. A few minutes ago, I had been content to do the same. But I could not stand by while she was being tortured. I couldn’t let that happen to her.

  “Two hours there for every twenty minutes here. She has been trapped in that prison for six hours. They have broken her leg and hurt her enough to make her bleed internally. I can’t leave her in there. Who knows what else they have done, or are going to do? I don’t have time to try…”

  “I can’t let you do this, My Lord.” I turned at the sound of Dramin’s voice, the desperate plea catching me off guard.

  “I don’t know what else to do. You are her brother, Dramin. As her brother, what would you have me do?” I didn’t need him to understand, I could do it on my own. He was one of the first of his kind and Joclyn’s blood.

  “He’s her brother…” Thom said just as the thought crossed my mind. I could see what he was thinking, I knew where this was going, and I didn’t like it.

  “No, Thom,” I said sternly, hoping to stop the thought in his mind before he found his voice.

  “It’s what our father is using to control the nightmares, correct?”

  “Yes, but...” I began, but Thom swiftly cut me off. I could feel my spine prickle at the lack of respect, but I ignored it.

  “Then it must be what he is using to control the Tȍuha.” Thom’s face was growing in maniacal intensity. I watched him closely, knowing I would have to put a stop to it soon.

  “Using a blood connection is not an option,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t see why not, Ilyan. It’s what Edmund is using against her. So, we can use the same technique to save her.”

  “No, Thom. I won’t let that happen, not ever. It’s wicked, evil. Do you understand?” I spoke deeply. Blood magic was dangerous. The cutting open of hearts and souls to create stronger ties or to strengthen the bonds of what was once a simple magic was inhumane. She had already worn dark magic around her neck for months. I wouldn’t let her be objected to any more, not if I could help it.

  I knew Thom wouldn’t understand, he had lived under our father’s rule for centuries, his viewpoint would always be somewhat skewed.

  “It’s just a blood connection, Ilyan. It is how Edmund is able to control Joclyn’s dreams. They have Sain, but we have Dramin…”

  “No, I will never allow you to cut open my heart or sever my soul in an attempt to save her. This is madness, Thom.” Dramin’s voice was panicked and scared. He knew what was involved in blood magic. There was a reason it was never done; a reason it was so terrible that Edmund had used it against Joclyn, that he had used his own son to perform it.

  “It’s the only way,” Thom begged, his energy fading, if only slightly.

  “No, Thom. You would mutilate her soul and mine and destroy Ilyan’s heart for only a minimal chance to save her. I can’t let you do that.” Dramin placed his hand on Thom’s arm, but Thom pulled away.

  “It is not futile. I have done it before,” I balked at Thom’s words, this fact about Thom disgusting me. To willingly use a blood connection... it was despicable.

  “It’s the only way.”

  “No.” I spoke hard, my power flowing over him as he sunk away.

  His shoulders sagged, my magical barrier freezing his logic in place and allowing his better logic to finally be able to take over. I drew my magic away from him when he had obviously calmed, my jaw clenching that it had come to that in order to control him.

  “Then what do we do?” Thom whispered, and I relaxed.

  “We wait,” I said, knowing there wasn’t another option. Not anymore.

  We looked at each other, each one knowing it was the only option, but none of us willing to say more than that.

  I nodded once before moving away from them, my body taking me right to Joclyn’s side without a thought. My fingers ran over the lines of her face as my magic swelled through her, my touch moving over eyes, her cheeks, and across the soft skin before her ear. I lay down next to her, my body pressing up against hers, as it had only an hour before. The warmth from her skin counteracted the chill from the stone and caused my muscles to tense at the differing temperatures.

  I pushed my magic into her, confident that I would not hurt her. For the first time in my life, I would not kill someone by filling them with my ability. I felt her magic push against mine, but the strength of it still seemed to be missing. It was still a substance within her, and the substance was healthy and alive, but there was not much more than that.

  “Come back to me, Jos,” I whispered to her, hopeful that my voice would flow to her as hers had to me. It wasn’t fair what fate had planned for us – to take us from one hell to another, to tear us away from each other, to tear her away from her mate.

  I let my magic settle inside of her for a minute before I moved it toward my target, fusing parts of myself with her, my magic connecting with nerve endings in an attempt to contact her. I let my finger slide down to connect with her mark, the jolt rocking through me as it always had, every day that I had touched it from the first. Even when she had felt nothing, I had always felt it. I sighed at the sensation and closed my eyes, letting my mind fuse with hers.

  I would have yelled at what I found, but I was too scared to see the emptiness of her mind.

  There was a reason I could not sense her power, her emotions, or her soul. Nothing was there. Her body was an empty shell. I gasped internally at the emptines
s, at the confusion and loss I felt from being inside of her like this and finding her gone.

  There should have been memories, dreams, and visions, but I saw nothing but blackness, the velvety color clear and dark.

  If she had left to join her mate in some expanse of eternity, would it leave an empty shell behind? I was foolish to think that this would work. That even a blood connection would work. It couldn’t work because there was nothing here to attach to. There was no bridge to bring her back.

  Edmund must have attached himself to Ryland before he used the connection. That’s how he gained control. For us, it was too late.

  I let my mind linger inside the black realm that Joclyn had left behind, searching for any way to bring her home.

  As I searched, I sang. I sang the song I had written for her all those hundreds of years ago. The song that was only for her.

  I left the song inside of her head hoping that it would, at least, welcome her home.

  Chapter Twelve

  My stomach growled with the lack of food, but I just ignored it. I had gone longer without eating. Forced starvation was one of my father’s favored techniques. But I had been living in comfort for too long, my body had become used to consistency. Being trapped in a cave for the past few days had not helped to give it the consistency it now felt it needed.

  I laid my head against the back of the cave, ignoring the hard cold stone that pressed against my body and focused instead on the soft warmth of the girl that was curled against me. At least I could make Joclyn comfortable. I pulled Dramin’s robe around her, tucking the edges under her in an attempt to trap her body heat against her.

  Her heartbeat was steady against me. It hummed against my skin as it followed the rise and fall of her chest. I focused on it, waiting for her body to seize again.

  I had slept with her here for the past few nights, her body warm against mine. But tonight I could not sleep. I didn’t know what was going on in the prison she remained in, but her body had twitched and moved more than usual. Only an hour ago, her knee had been hurt so badly that the tendons had been ripped away from the muscle.

  I repaired it dutifully as she slept, wrapping it in heavy bindings as she twitched, and I sang my song to her. I let the words fill her mind, my voice imprinting inside of her whether she was there to hear it or not.

  It had been the same pattern for the past four days – heal her and sing to her. Then, after every time, I connected with her mind in an attempt to find her. I would keep trying everything I could to save her, to bring her back to me. I would wait forever if that were what it took.

  Her body seized again, and her chest racked as she coughed, more blood drizzling from her mouth. I wiped it with the back of my hand and then onto my jeans. With nothing to clean her with, my pants had been stained a warm red hue, her blood deepening the color every day.

  My fingers clung to the once soft fabric of her shirt, pulling it down just enough to check the skin on her shoulder, where the Štít lay inside of her, the dark red scratches deepening in color as I watched, a small trickle of blood appearing on the surface. I replaced the shirt and held her against me, rocking as I clung her to me.

  Desperation, it was a feeling I had rarely felt in my long life. I had never really been hopeless enough to feel it. I was always the one in control, powerful and resilient. I laughed at battle and found joy in an impending death. But with Joclyn’s injured body in my arms, I only felt desperation.

  If I had ever believed in God, now would be the time I would call to Him, beg Him to save her, to bring her home. But I didn’t, and whoever had called my kind to come forth from the mud had always been strangely silent.

  “Have you slept?” I didn’t even move at Dramin’s question. I kept my head curled against Joclyn, my hair falling around us.

  “No,” I whispered loud enough for him to hear me. I knew my voice would carry through the cave. “Last night was bad.” I didn’t dare elaborate.

  “Any new developments?” He knew there would be none, just as I did. We were still trapped in the cave, and Joclyn was still trapped in the Tȍuha.

  “I can stay with her again today if you would like? Thom can shift rock on his own for a while, it would give you time to rest.” I knew he meant well, but I didn’t need to be coddled. Resting while Joclyn writhed was not a possibility. I would rather shift rock with Thom as I did every day. At least then, my mind could focus on other things.

  “I see you braided her hair again,” he said when I didn’t answer him. I nodded at Dramin’s question, waiting for what would come next.

  I had braided her hair after some of her blood had dried in it. I had been able to repair the head injury easily enough, but the dark mass of curls needed to be washed. With nothing to clean it with, I resorted to re-braiding, weaving the clumps into the intricate five strand braid. I hadn’t even realized what I had done until it was finished.

  “The wedding braid is an interesting choice.” I ignored him. “To match the shoes, I take it.”

  I leaned my head back and looked at him out of the corner of my eye, almost daring him to continue.

  “You can imagine my surprise when she showed up wearing those things on her feet. They are excellent workmanship.”

  Dramin let his unasked question linger heavy on the air. I could feel it swirl around us, the intensity of it growing the longer I left it unacknowledged.

  I knew I owed him no reply; it was not my place to allow insight into my every thought. But Dramin did not ask as a curious servant, he asked as my friend and Joclyn’s brother, and in that regard, I did owe him an explanation.

  “I made the shoes as a gift,” I finally said, refusing to look at him. I focused on Joclyn’s heartbeat as I spoke. The steady thrum moving through me.

  “She had lost something I couldn’t even fathom; I wanted to give her what she was due. What her husband should have placed on her feet on the night of the bonding.”

  “And so, with him gone, you tried to take his place.” I could hear the accusation clearly, but instead of making me angry it only made me laugh.

  “You know, that was never my intention, strangely enough. I made the shoes as a gift from her newfound brother, a wedding gift. Part of me fully expected Ryland to return, to fight Edmund and reappear as if nothing had happened. But then, when she wasn’t recovering, when Ryland never came, I knew he was gone. Then, I had begun to make them for an entirely different purpose.”

  “As a gift from a husband to his wife.”

  I nodded. I knew it was a foolish line of thinking, and one I still resented ever having, but if that last visit into the Tȍuha hadn’t cured her, I would have replaced Ryland’s bond with one of my own. I knew that would have saved her, because I had seen it done before. I would have gladly taken that role if it was necessary, but it wasn’t.

  It was not yet my place. She wasn’t mine to keep.

  “It is not my place, Dramin.”

  “Not yet,” he said. I could only smile, letting the beautiful visions of the sight from so long ago wash over me.

  “She is bonded to my brother, Dramin. That is a sacred connection and one I would never take advantage of. I will protect her for him. I will keep her safe as my soul calls for me to do, but I will never take her from him. She is not mine. I love her more than I have any other. I love her enough that I would rather see her happy than in my possession. My time will come.”

  I didn’t doubt that any of my words were true, and it wasn’t the fickle truth of having convinced myself to believe something. I truly believed it. I had felt it from the beginning when I first saw Ryland swing her around on the grass at her school. I knew then that I could never take that away from her, that connection. It wasn’t my place. Besides, doing things like that was not who I was.

  “But she loves you, Ilyan.” Dramin’s voice was deep, almost as if he was trying to convince me I was making a wrong decision, but I could only laugh at him.

  “I know, Dramin. She told me so,�
�� I whispered, my fingers moving to run over the soft skin of her face. “And those words flow through my head every night as I keep her safe in my arms, holding her until the right arms can take my place.”

  She sighed as I held her, almost as if she heard me, though I knew that wasn’t possible, her mind was not there to hear me. I smoothed my hand over her hair and the soft skin of her face. Her deep breathing seeped into me, relaxing me as well. The heady beating of my heart slowed, the uncharacteristic relaxation making me feel more in love with her than before if that was possible.

  “It will be harder than you think, handing her over to him.”

  “I know,” I couldn’t help it, my muscles tightened around her, bringing her against me tightly. I knew Dramin was right, but no matter how hard, I still would not interfere. I would not break such a sacred vow. It was not mine to break.

  “You are a better man than I thought you to be, Ilyan.” Dramin sat up slowly, his back leaning against the cold wall beside me.

  I looked at him curiously, not sure if his words were that of a compliment or not. He just looked at me with pride and knowledge lining his handsome face. I could feel my eyebrows rise as I waited for him to continue, sure that the threat on my face was evident.

  “All those years ago,” Dramin explained, “when I first saw the fate of what was to come for you, I was happy for you, so šťastný. But the heartbreak at her being with another…I thought you would purposefully tear them apart to get what was rightfully yours. I am sorry I ever thought badly about you. You are a man beyond words.”

  I smiled, but chose to say nothing. For years I had thought the exact way that Dramin had. I had been possessive, needy. She was mine, and no one was going to take her away from me. After all, I had waited for hundreds of years, what could one mortal do to stop me? But, it wasn’t a mortal; it was my brother.

  The child of Sain, the first of the Drak, the Silnỳ, the woman who was created for me, was in love with my baby brother.