Ilyan

by Rebecca Ethington

  “I’m always trying to find everything, Jan.” She said, curling her hands underneath her chin in an effort to get comfortable. I would have offered her a pillow, but they took that away long ago. “I found Joclyn, I can find you. And then we can get you home.”

  “Or you could just leave without me.”

  She glared at the suggestion. It wasn’t the first time I had mentioned it, and although she refused every time, she was slowly wearing down. She was slowly realizing, just as I was, that I wasn’t a good enough reason for her and her mother to stay here.

  “I know,” she finally admitted, the words not hurting as much as I expected them too. “But I am not going to just leave you here unless I have no other choice. Things aren’t bad enough to justify that.”

  “I would have to say otherwise,” I said with a grunt, instantly regretting moving my arm so as to emphasize the point.

  “They are bad for you, which is why I am not leaving.” She placed her hand flat on the bed between us, a clear invitation for contact, for comfort, but right then I didn’t need it.

  I would stubbornly take it on my own if it meant she would see reason and leave.

  “You live in walls, Kaye,” I whispered, letting my focus drift toward the ceiling.

  The motion was not missed and she pulled her hand back, curling it back under her chin.

  “Not for long.” She said after a moment, the admission pulling my focus right to her. “Everything is in place, I got a job on the second floor. In receiving.”

  She swallowed, something was there that I wasn’t quite following. The drugs may make it hard to think, but it didn’t make it impossible. A second too late it dawned on me just what she was saying.

  “No more late night visits?” It sounded so weird when I said it like that and I could feel my soul pull away from the phrasing.

  I cringed, but she only chuckled, the sound like a tinkling bell in the dark.

  “Not as many, no,” she hesitated, “but it puts me closer to an escape….”

  “If one comes, Kaye, you need to take it,” I announced cutting her off, wincing again as I attempted to move up in my eagerness. “You need too…”

  “I will,” she wrapped her hand around mine, her eyes filling with tears. “I promise I will. But more than that, I am going to fight back.”

  “I’m going to make them hurt.”

  I had nothing I could say in return. Because, I had nothing I wanted more.

  14

  Nastya’s machine buzzed, electricity bursting through my veins, and running over my skin in waves that made me convulse. Even in my dreams, the torturous energy ran through me, reacting with my magic until it broke from me in crackles of lightning that sparked and sputtered.

  With each explosion the dream lit up, pulling me from one memory to another so fast they had begun to blend together, everything about them becoming nothing more than a blur.

  A teen falling from a cliff face as we climbed, his haunted face screaming up to me as he fell.

  A woman in a forest, dressed in an elegant gown as she seduced me.

  Myself tied to a tree as Ryland sobbed before me, a man who could have been his much older twin yelling at him before Ryland plunged a dagger into my side. Ryland's mournful scream followed me in an echo before the memory faded to the same woman from before. A joyful laugh painted her youthful face as she sat with the towering man that I had seen follow me before, all signs of the seductress gone.

  The seductress returned with a bright flash of red, the same woman clinging to me as she begged, her words nearly indiscernible over the sound of electricity and magic that rumbled through the dreams.

  “He killed her!” her sobs exploded as she fell to the ground, the embroidered tunic I wore shifting under the change in pressure.

  One after another they came, moving in double-time as my tortured mind released them, each one growing more and more twisted and terrified. I tried to hold onto them, to slow them down, to remember. But my mind was caged. Trapped with the electric explosions of magic and torture.

  Forced to watch confusing moments of my own life, the electricity grew as the memory shifted with a shout.

  “No!”

  Panic clung to the word, the emotion lingering against my soul as the new memory came, that of myself sitting next to the same green-eyed man I had seen destroy my sister.

  The same man I had seen chant inside of the cave.

  The dark-haired man sat beside me, twisting his hands in agitation as he bounced on the edge of the cement fountain. The town square from Ovailia’s chase stretched before us, but everything about it had changed. The cathedral was built, the long spires touring over us in their journey toward the sky. The surrounding buildings were the same, but the architecture was different, there weren't as many rough-hewn rocks. If it wasn’t for the familiarity of the place, and my mind whispering a million other memories I couldn't see, I wouldn’t have recognized it.

  “Perhaps he will not grant me her hand,” the man asked, his voice distant and far away as my tortured mind distorted it.

  “I believe he will, Sain,” The mention of his name sent a jolt of anger through me that didn’t quite match the memory.

  I felt the emotion, but I only continued to sit in eager anticipation, watching the man’s hands writhe together. “My father is a man of reason…”

  “And I am a worthless Drak,” he cut me off, the word easily known to me, although I did not know why.

  I couldn’t even focus on it, the knowledge of his name was still a roar. Anger mixed with the electricity until my magic sparked in a pop, the eruption of light turning the memory white and removing it from me.

  “Please no,” my own voice again, the sound so distorted from where I sat in memory that I barely recognized it. I wasn’t sure why I was begging. Shouldn’t I be laughing?

  Something told me I should be laughing.

  Instead of my own defiant chuckle, however, another laugh responded to my plea, the sound followed by a touch that pulled me right back to reality.

  “Please?” Nastya sneered, my vision leaving the flashes of memory as she slid back into focus, her three heads shaking and jumping around in front of me. “Are you begging me to stop, Jan?”

  “Please,” I gasped again, the taste of blood now clear in my mouth. I spit it out, attempting to let the glob fall right on her face, but I couldn’t get enough strength and instead it dribbled down my chin. She laughed as it slid over my skin.

  “My, my,” she cooed, the false concern barely clear through her mockery. “Do you need some help there?”

  Attempting to avoid her and the blood-stained cloth she held, I pulled to the side, head rocking violently as everything began to spin. Windows, door, muck-covered walls, they all blended together and for one minute I thought I saw her.

  There standing in a corner.

  I saw her, ready to save me.

  “Silnỳ…” I began, needing to call out to her, needing her to protect me this time.

  She was right there. She could protect me. She was the Silnỳ.

  No, she was just Joclyn. I didn’t know what that other name meant, I didn’t know what any of it did.

  “Silnỳ?” Nastya asked, the beautiful name sounding like poison as it dripped from her. “What is that? Is that your name?”

  She asked the question and I began to cry, the electricity that surged through the bulbs at my temples only making the emotion worse. I jumped in expectation of another jolt.

  Luckily, one of the three Nastya’s held up her hand, stopping whatever was about to happen as she stepped right up to me, her face inches from my own.

  It was only then I realized the bed had been moved to upright again.

  “Is it what you are? Is it where you are from? A city? A planet?” She asked the questions in turn, watching me intently with each one before she stopped, eyebrows arching high before she vanished, leaving me staring at the hundreds of men who were swimming behind the glass.


  “Now,” she said from behind me, and the electricity from her machine exploded.

  I screamed at the pressure, at the pain, my spine twisting as it threatened to break, my mouth filling with blood as my teeth clamped down on my tongue, leaving me to writhe in silence.

  The torture chamber faded as the electricity pulled me back into memory, an image of Joclyn and I walking hand in hand over the beach, followed by that man, Sain, from before. An unwanted joy washed over me as I stood beside the two of them. Joclyn turning toward me with a smile, her body flickering to her covered in blood and back again.

  The scent of iron and salt followed me back into reality as the electricity stopped, my own heaving breath shaking room and body as blood dripped from my mouth and onto my bare feet.

  “No more,” I pleaded as my head flopped to the side, giving me a perfect view of the corner of the room, and the beautiful woman who stood there.

  My heart pulsed as I heaved in air, the need for her was so strong, but the pain of knowing it wasn’t her was stronger.

  “Silnỳ,” I whispered through my heaving breath, and she smiled, the use of the name confusing me. It wasn’t her name. It wasn’t who she was. She was “Jos…”

  “Is it her?” Nastya snapped, interrupting me as she shoved one of the many images at me, the photograph of Joclyn and I fighting together beautiful to me now.

  Beautiful because she wasn’t just a mystery that I longed for. Beautiful because I knew her. Because I knew her strength. Because I knew her soul.

  I stared at it as her joy and determination filled me, listening to my breath, listening to my heartbeat. The tortured organ pounded against my chest, screaming that I couldn’t stay here.

  I couldn’t put up with this anymore. It wasn’t me, and even though I didn’t know all of who I was. I knew that.

  I could feel that in the way my muscles tensed and my magic flared, the slow sludge barely responded, but still, it was there.

  “Silnỳ."

  Nastya’s smile spread wide as she stepped back, looking from me to the photograph as if she had won the jackpot.

  As if she had won her prize.

  The slow drudge of my magic dripped to my fingers at that look, it swelled and buzzed, wanting to explode. Trying to. I kept it there. I held it in, heart pulsing from the effort as I willed it to grow.

  “Hello, Silnỳ,” Nastya cooed to the photograph, her fingers running over the image gently.

  Caressing her face.

  The slow sludge of my magic sparked in its own anger. In its own need to protect.

  To protect her.

  It had been months since I had felt it so acutely, since I could grab it. So, as she turned toward the men in the glass-framed room - I acted.

  An angry flood of power expelled from me in one prompted burst of white light. The restraints turned to ash, a shower of grey falling to the ground as I did, my legs barely able to hold my weight.

  Screams echoed around the room, the men, the technician, everyone erupting in panic as the weapon Nastya had spent years perfecting escaped. Their anger fueled me in a way I hadn’t expected, the power roaring underneath my flesh just like the electricity I had spent so much time being infected with.

  Releasing the power in a rush, everything began to shake as a strong wind circled the room, my magic erupting around me in fireworks of color. The wind grew into a torrent, explosions firing alongside my magic as light fixtures broke away, bed and machines slamming into walls. With a twist of my wrist, the wind shifted, my magic picking up the demented woman, lifting her off the ground and sending her into the glass wall with a snap. The windows cracked beneath her at the impact, the men’s look of fear increasing as they ran for the exit, eyes flashing between me and the door in obvious fear.

  With one pulse, I flung her around to face me, limp body sagging in the air as I held her there. The genuine fear I had expected to see was replaced by a mask of pure joy.

  “Beautiful, Jan,” she said as she smiled, her response only fueling my eruptive magic more. “Beautiful.”

  Before she could even get the final word out, I let my power fly free, the magic shooting from me in a ribbon of purple that slapped against her face, knocking the smile from it and sending her screaming to the ground.

  Her pain blossomed through me in an exhilarated joy and I hit her again, this time in the chest. The colors of my attacks sparked in the tiny room, casting the dark corners in colorful shadows that only made it, and its blood-stained walls, that much more sinister.

  “Leave her alone,” I screamed as I attacked her again, and again. The dark strips of my magic cut through her like knives, the action causing more screaming. More yelling. Until it didn’t.

  Until there was only silence.

  My magic froze in expectation, ready to see her dead on the floor. My heart swelled at the possibility, only to shatter as she began to laugh, the delirious sound echoing hauntingly around the space.

  Ice ran through my veins as she began to pick herself up, joints twisting as her head snapped to me. I lifted my hand to her, ready to end her. To end all of this and get out of here.

  The magic never came, however, it stuck inside of me like sludge, held back by the ice that ran through me. It was not the ice of fear as I had thought it was. It was not the cold chill I would get before death.

  It was the ice of her control, of the chill of her power as it ran through me.

  As it controlled me.

  Her magic.

  The icy power surged as I crumpled to the ground, realizing just how much of a fool I had been.

  “Did you really think you would escape,” Nastya sneered as she crawled her way over to me, a wide trail of red left behind. “Did you really think you could end me?”

  She was inches from me, the tiny cuts on her face healing over as she stared at me, specks of blood flying over my face with every word.

  "Yes," I hissed, the word slurred behind my destroyed tongue. "I will."

  “You foolish man. You have only made things worse for yourself,” she taunted, the acid in her voice making my heart seize. “You gave me her name. Now I am going to find her, and kill her in front of you.”

  I was sure she expected the same reaction she had gotten before, the scream of heartbreak that always occurred when Nastya used her as a weapon. But instead of the outrage, instead of the panic, I only laughed.

  The sound had the same result on Nastya as it had on me, and her anger grew. It grew past the awed fury and became a torrent.

  “Destroy him,” she hissed as her magic rushed me, electricity surging through me as she clamped her hands against my head.

  Although I tried to call my magic up to numb the pain, nothing responded. Nothing came, and all of her magic hit me like a live wire, destroying me. Everything shook and rattled as I screamed, jolts of fire moved through me.

  The shocks increased as she laughed, as blood filled my mouth, as the sound of laughter slowly began to take over.

  It was her laughter the followed me into the dark, the laughter that rattled my soul and pulled me into a memory that left my heart aching.

  A tiny girl with long hair and the darkest eyes had ever seen ran down a beach, her feet working hard as she sprinted through sand and brush, laughing as a man with short brown hair chased her. The woman I had seen before followed behind them, smiling as her bright red dress blew in the wind.

  “What do you wish to do, my lord?” A hushed voice buzzed behind me from where we hid in the brush, the hulking form of the man who always seemed to be following me only slightly recognizable in the shadow. I didn’t turn to him, I remained focused on the tiny family, my heart constricting painfully.

  “There is no sign of loyalty from my brother?” I asked, that same regal sound plunging through my voice.

  My focus shifted to the man on the beach as I spoke, the same bright blue eyes I had cementing the familial relationship. The tension in my heart grew, although I wasn't sure why.
I got a distinct impression that something bad was about to happen. That these three were in trouble.

  “None, my lord.” the man beside me whispered, shifting his weight in obvious discomfort. “And none from Wynifred either.”

  “You are sure your intel is correct?” I hissed, my heart restricting more as I saw the little girl’s eyes.

  I had known there were black, but this close they were clearly as dark as her mother’s. I was amazed she was as old as she was, that he hadn't destroyed her yet.

  It could only mean two things; Wynifred was protecting her daughter, or my father was using them all.

  It was the latter that brought us here.

  “We don’t have anyone on the inside, this came to me by pure coincidence,” The man said, ducking lower in the brush as they got closer.

  “She is a child, it is worth the risk, either way.”

  My magic stretched away from me, although I knew it was dangerous. If they moved much closer Wynifred would sense us. No matter how well we were hidden she would feel us. I wasn't interested in being burned to a crisp today.

  The thought confused me until her eyes snapped to me, her anger clear as she scowled right into the brush we were hidden in.

  “Fly, Talon,” I hissed to the man, his bulky form disappearing at once, just as Ovailia had with the same command so many memories ago.

  I, however, stayed still, my magic surging as I lifted myself from the ground, heat beginning to radiate from the sand beneath me.

  I smiled at the woman before she rushed to me, reaching the brush just as I too vanished, moving into a black nothing with the slightest pop. The hollow sound echoed as my scream did, rippling from a life so far away I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

  Light vanished as I opened my eyes, the same beach I visited every night igniting in my vision. It was so similar to the one I had seen moments before. Except the laughter of the child was gone, everyone was gone. It was only the sound of the waves as they crashed nearby, only the hot and cold feel of the breeze, only Joclyn’s fingers as they brushed over my face.