“No problems here,” I sighed, throwing the blankets back, “but I might need a little help.”
Joclyn turned back to me, eyebrows arched in confusion before she looked down to my spindly legs, and the massive bands that held me down. The determination for battle faded from her face, leaving a horrified ‘oh’ that made it clear she was ready to kill someone and not just the man who remained crumpled on the floor.
“How long has it been like this?” Joclyn asked, her eyes sad as she looked at me, hands soft against my ill-used legs.
I didn’t respond to her, I didn’t know what to say. I only smiled sadly, love pouring through me as I felt the warmth of her magic flood my body, moving through me. The warming calm of her magic felt out of place against the shouts that had begun to echo through the heavy wooden door, the irritated grumble from Ryland only adding to it.
I had felt her do this multiple times before, but every time my magic had responded to hers. Every time we had connected. This time there was nothing but her warmth as she checked for injuries, a tiny flick of power unlocking the shackles as they fell away from my joints.
“What have they done to you?” Her voice was a growl of anger as her grip against me increased, her anger flaring much the same way mine had for years before.
With a shock, I realized why.
The imposter had told me that my magic was still alive, that it was living inside of my mate, and looking at her now, I could see it.
I could see my power, but I could also see her own. It was amazing. It was -
“Beautiful,” I said aloud in Czech, the one word sparking across her face in a wide smile.
“I could say the same to you,” she quipped in my native tongue, the language a beautiful song when whispered from her lips. The use of it caught me off guard, she hadn't even begun to master it all those years before.
Now it was perfected.
“Will you two stop flirting and get out of here!” Ryland suddenly yelled as the door shook, the heavy thud echoing through the momentary calm as the soldiers worked to bring down the door.
Joclyn turned from me in a fan of hair and power, jumping from the bed as she flexed her hand once toward the shivering wood. Screams filtered from the hall as her magic sent soldiers to their knees, although in death or injury I had no way of knowing.
“If you think I am leaving you alone here, Ry, you are terribly mistaken,” Jos snapped at my brother, extending her hand toward me in a clear invitation. “She will kill me.”
“She won’t kill you,” Ryland yelled as the thudding continued, another loud bang proceeding Ryland's own flare of magic. Screams of fire and monsters rang from the hall before they silenced, the momentary still quickly replaced by the thunder of boots. “She will only be greatly displeased.”
“Add that to the whole disappearing act we just pulled…”
“She will be here any minute, Joclyn.” Ryland interrupted her, the confusing conversation sending my focus back and forth. “You can’t expect her not to have followed.”
Their voices roared above the increasing threats of battle that came from the other side of the door. Shouts and yells and heavy thuds against wood all joining together until there was nothing but a cacophony.
The sound was making me anxious, but not in the way you would expect. I was anxious to fight, anxious to destroy those who had hurt me. Mostly, however, I was anxious to get out of here, find someplace quiet and just hold Joclyn against me - in this reality.
“Who are we talking about?” I yelled above the noise, the bickering friends turning toward me with differing levels of frustration on their faces.
“His second in command,” Joclyn provided, Ryland cringed at the admission as though it brought him physical pain.
“Your…” I began, the cringe from Ryland and the smug little smile from Joclyn filling in the blanks.
“King.” Joclyn finished, rushing toward me as though the news would be a blow.
It had been fifteen years. There was no shock for the news, only that he had accepted. The image of them on the banks of the Vltava now made sense.
“She will be here,” Ryland said, not looking at me as he continued to plow on, his voice rising above the sound of the now splintering wood. “You need to go.”
“Bu…”
“Don’t fight me Joclyn.” Ryland roared, the level of his voice even silencing the army outside. “You can always come back. But if he has no magic…”
Joclyn’s lips were a tight line as she turned back toward me her hand held out in the same offer as before.
“What will happen to you if we stutter?” She asked, her voice soft as she stepped closer. Her arms were strong as she helped me to stand, although my frame was much lankier than hers.
“I do not know,” I answered as honestly as I could. Although I knew it was nothing good, I was desperate enough to leave that I was willing to try.
Judging by the glimmer in Joclyn’s eyes, however, she saw right through it.
“Then we will fly,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me as her powerful magic lifted us both off the ground, leaving us to hover in nothing. “And this time I will carry you.”
Her smile was kind, loving, and it was that that I looked at as the world shattered.
The window shattered as Ryland’s magic exploded, the door flying to pieces around us as an army streamed in one way, and a woman with long blonde hair soared through the other.
For a moment I could have sworn it was Ovailia, my sister had haunted me enough over the past few years, but she was younger, far more punk rock than enchantress.
“You are in so much trouble,” she yelled to nobody in particular, as she began to fight by Ryland’s side. The man only laughed as he easily fell five of the heavily armored men.
“I can’t guard you if you take off like that,” the new arrival yelled as she continued to fight. “How is it that I am half your age and twice as responsible.”
“Just shut up and kill the republic scum.”
“Fine.”
“Hold on tight,” Joclyn whispered as we began to move, her magic flooding me as my body disappeared and, absorbed by her magic, we soared through the air and away from the hell that had been life for so long, and right into the dream that I had longed for.
22
She had been wrapped in my arms for the past few weeks, neither of us willing to let go. We had slept in a tangle of limbs and sheets, never getting enough of each other. Our days were spent curled together in playful curves, talking about everything that had happened, everything we had missed.
I had absorbed everything she had to tell me, every story and every memory. While it had taken me a few days to open up about what had happened to me, it felt good to share, to tell her of the fear and pain, and to know that I was not alone.
That she was there.
And that she understood.
While not the same, she had been driven to madness while trapped in Cail's mind. Driven to an insanity that even I didn’t reach. She knew the pain of that type of misery, of that torture. It made sharing easier, it made healing safer. It had been my love that had held her while she had found her feet, and it would be her love that would help me find mine.
Seeing her dedication to me, to that support, brought all the more love into my heart. Into us.
Of course, that connection was made all the more amazing by the return of my magic.
We had only barely landed, my feet digging into the hot sand outside my home for the first time in nearly twenty years when I pressed the heavily scarred palm of my hand against her face, ready to lean in to kiss her.
I never made it that far.
With just the tiny touch of my burned hand against her cheek a jolt of power moved through both of us. Like a bolt of lightning it sparked, pushing through like an explosion that when we came to we were spread out on the sand, being fawned over by a very pregnant Wyn, a very joyous Thom and a little boy I had never seen before.
From then everything had been a blur. Teary-eyed reunions, rushed explanations, and powerful magic jolting through my veins. I did not stay in their presence for long, however, I swept my mate into my arms, announced I had a lifetime to catch up on and rushed her away to our room.
We hadn’t left since then.
Of course, we had had visitors, and Jos would help me take steps around the room as my ill-used legs began to heal. Mostly we were curled up under blankets, or cuddled together on the big squishy chairs on the balcony as we lost ourselves in the sound of wind and waves.
Right now, however, as the sun dipped below the horizon and everything was covered in gold, we lay in our usual tangle, listening to each other's heartbeats.
What did you miss the most? Joclyn asked into my mind, her voice soft and hesitant as she curled deeper into me. The texture of her voice in my mind made it clear that she was drifting back to sleep again, the slow steady beat of her breath cementing the fact.
“Sunlight,” I answered without hesitation. Whispering my answer aloud as she sighed.
She had asked me that question multiple times over the last few days, and every time I gave her a different answer. It was a joke that I had become obsessed with teasing her over, the taunt as clear as cling film. She could see the answer in my mind anyway.
She chuckled and burrowed herself into me, just as a soft knock on the door pulled my focus.
One flare of my magic told me who it was, and while years ago I may have been concerned with letting him see us like this, now it didn’t matter.
“Enter,” I called, the loud command in my voice making Joclyn jump.
“With a voice like that you’ll be claiming your crown again soon,” Ryland teased as he stepped into the room, his voice light and calm as he shut the door behind him.
“I am sorry to disappoint you, brother, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.” I made sure to keep my voice lower this time.
Ryland’s sigh was obvious as he sat down on the foot of the bed, his movements careful in an attempt not to disrupt us. The motion caused Joclyn to press closer to me, something I would not complain over.
“One of these days I will simply bribe you, then,” he said, “I do not know how you ruled for so long, and so well.”
“It was not always perfect, and I needed my breaks as well,” I admitted, the memories of the time I had spent in the monastery, or building this house, or remodeling Rioseco making so much more sense now. “You will have to find time for yourself as well.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t mastered that yet,” he sighed, his blue eyes laughing as he ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe I’ll do that right after I learn to stutter.”
I chuckled lightly at that, his own frustration tickling his lips as he sighed and leaned against the massive footboard, looking from me to Joclyn as though this was nothing more than an everyday occurrence.
“Is she asleep?” he finally asked, the lack of disdain, anger, and ownership still catching me off guard.
“She is doing a very good job of pretending to be,” I answered, just as the girl in question let out a very large snore.
The sound made both Ryland and I laugh, although Jos refused to move, instead curling against me in an attempt to hide her chuckles.
“Well, you might want to wake her up for this,” Ryland prodded, his eyes dancing in delight as whatever secret he had come in here hiding threatened to explode. “I have news.”
“It better be good news,” Joclyn mumbled, her voice as groggy with sleep here as it was in my head.
“The best.”
Jos sighed, groaned, pressed one last kiss against my neck and slowly turned, her eyes already shooting daggers at Ryland.
“I was almost asleep, you know.”
“You are still wearing your clothes, Jos.” His banter was meant for her, but I laughed right along with him, leaving poor Joclyn the difficult decision of who to glower at.
In the end, she chose me, poking me in the ribs as she teased me right back. “You let in a straight up loon.”
“I’d be careful what you say,” I hissed as I ran my fingers up her side in an obvious attempt at tickling. “You never know how much of that runs in the family.”
“Who says…”
“I have news!” Ryland announced again, his voice loud as he pulled us out of our bubble.
The look he gave us was such a cross between the powerful king and the frustrated kid brother that I couldn’t help but laugh, the joy expelling from me in a loud burst, that caused Joclyn to jump, and Ryland to scowl deeper.
His curls bounced as he shook his confusion away, turning to us with a piercing blue stare as he looked right at me. “We found her.”
It was all he needed to say.
My heartbeat sped up, Joclyn's accelerating to match as she fell away from me, my still weak legs pushing me to stand beside the bed, bare chest, loose pajama pants and all.
“Where?” I heard Joclyn ask behind me in exhilaration.
Ryland mumbled something as the sound of crumpling paper pulled me back to them, the two curled over a map that Ry had obviously pulled out of a book.
“Sweden.” Ryland stated, “Sigtuna to be exact. I have never heard of it, but Wyn said…”
“Yes,” a smile blossomed over my lips that just hearing of the town gave me. “I owned the first inn there. A tiny thing. We used it as a safe house for many years…”
I drifted off as the memories hit me, moments in time that were almost lost.
“Yes, well,” Ryland cleared his throat as he pulled me back, Joclyn’s hand wrapping around my own in understanding. “Wyn said you would know this intersection,” again another smile. “Which is the closest thing to where she is: here.”
The map crinkled as he released it onto the bed, the corners rolling as he dug in his pockets. Shoving a nicely folded square of paper toward me. Ryland looked from me to Joclyn in anticipation.
I couldn't respond. Luckily, Joclyn jumped up and wrapped her arms around Ryland’s neck, thanking him over and over as I began to unfold the paper and reveal an address in loopy feminine handwriting.
Kaye.
She was here. She was right here.
I could find here. I could thank her.
“Thank you, Ryland,” I whispered, my own thanks echoing Joclyn’s as I clenched the paper in my fist, suddenly determined to locate some regular clothes.
“You are very welcome, both of you,” Ryland said, peeling Joclyn away from him as he took a step toward the door. “I have some issues I must attend to, but call me when you have her. I would like to meet her too. And Jos, Ilyan; I wouldn’t wait too long. It seems she moves around a lot.”
“Thanks, Ry,” Jos said from behind me as he left, her voice distanced as I began to make my way over to my dresser.
It was a curse I had grumbled many times before. My now returned magic could do everything it had before, but no magic could make muscle grow. That was on me, and the slow healing of my atrophied appendages was only angering me.
“In five years it will only be a memory,” Jos whispered as she stepped past me, her hand soft against my arms.
“I would rather it not take that long.” I almost regretted saying it aloud, the anger and frustration was not really like me.
Joclyn responded with a knowing smile and a chuckle inside of my head. “With an attitude like that, it should only take one, then.”
It took some time, but I was able to get dressed for the first time in fifteen years, pajamas having been my uniform since returning home. Pants, shirt, shoes, jacket, they all fit. The slender attire matched the braid Joclyn had put in my hair. The plait, the outfit, they filled me with an odd pride I hadn’t expected.
It looked as though no time had passed.
Just as though I had a bad dream… nothing more.
“We are going to need to pick up a few magazines,” Jos said with a wink, her hands soft as they straightened the jacket. “
You look a little out of date.”
Except for that.
I cringed. Jos gave me a soft smile that perfectly echoed what was on my mind, her eyes sad as she lifted onto her tiptoes and pulled me down into a kiss.
Her lips were soft as they pressed into mine, the pressure an intense power as our magic sparked. Warmth rushed through me, the lights of a million different hues breaking through the air. I saw them for a just a moment, the colors fading as her kiss did, although she did not move away from me.
“But you still look like my Ilyan,” she whispered, her breath gentle and warm against my lips. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“You are my everything, my mate.”
“And you are mine,” she whispered right into my mind, the words beautiful as she sang them in my native tongue.
“Even though we may be a little outdated,” I whispered the words in Czech and she giggled, the sound light as she finally pulled away, grabbed the paper from where I had placed it in the dresser and turned to me.
“Well, what do you say we go get the person who gave us the opportunity to be just that?”
Her smile expanded as I put my hand in hers, and with one swell of her magic she pulled us through the darkness of the world under ours, and right to that quaint little intersection in Sweden, right where my magic and memories guided her.
Everything about the place was different, while some of the buildings looked similar, not one was the same. The streets were paved and the crowded sidewalks looked strangely out of place against the hundred-year-old buildings behind.
While everything was different, there was one thing that they couldn’t change, the smell of the fish against the salt sea air. That, I smelled it with a delight I hadn’t experienced in over two hundred years. Joclyn, however, crinkled her nose in disgust and exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the pungent smell.
The look on her face one that gave me more need to laugh.
“Now who is outdated,” I teased and grabbed the paper from her, took one glance and began to lead her down the street to our left.
Everything was the same here, old homes and businesses against modern conveniences. I had seen this juxtaposition in cities for centuries, perhaps it didn’t bother me as much because I had watched the change happen. Seeing this beautiful little village like this was jarring.
Ilyan (An Imdalind Story) Page 27
