Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(65)

“I need to find Wyn,” Ryland whispered from the foot of the bed, his hands clenching the bed rail so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “I need to find her.”

“Wyn can’t help.” My voice was dead as I stared at Ilyan who was now rocking my sister, his face burrowing in her hair before it snapped up to me.

“No,” Ilyan growled, his mind going right to where I expected it to, and judging by the intensity of his response, we shared the same opinion.

“He can’t help, either.” My voice was barely loud enough to cover the sound of Joclyn’s mumbling, the words so garbled no one could have made them out even if they were listening.

Ilyan’s eyes widened at my proclamation, his eyes so focused that, if he wasn’t so connected to Joclyn, I would be sure he would have forgotten her.

Ryland looked between us, picking up the pieces to what we were talking about.

“Sain?” he finally asked, but neither Ilyan nor I looked in his direction. “What do you mean Sain can’t help? He’s a Drak. Of course he can help.”

“And he may be double-crossing us,” Ilyan provided like an afterthought, his focus shifting back to Joclyn who was working herself back up into a panic.

“We still don’t know that for certain. Joclyn is his daughter; they are of the same magic…” Ryland’s persistence was unsurprising, but I knew it would be.

“Yes, but just because he can help us,” I said, my voice calm as I looked Ryland in the eye, “it doesn’t mean he should. His help has done damage to this child. I won’t let him do more.”

“You sound like you know more about this than I do, Dramin,” Ilyan said, a terror I hadn’t expected seeping into his voice. I thought Joclyn would have told him of what we had discussed. Perhaps she hadn’t found the proof she was so desperate for.

“He’s doing more than double-crossing us all,” I sighed, my voice as heavy as the weight that was pressing against me.

“I know,” Joclyn whispered, her voice soft as it seemingly answered my statement, her eyes black as she stared at something none of us could see. “I have seen it before.”

Ryland took a step toward me, hardness gripping his jaw. For a moment, I was in no doubt he was going to erupt in some loyalty tirade. However, he stayed still, silent, his eyes darkening as something different began to take over.

My anxiety continued to rise as they waited for me to continue, my own fear for what was coming increasing. The chair felt suddenly uncomfortable and overly wooden beneath me.

“Her sights have been changing.”

Ilyan nodded, his eyes dark. “Yes, she’s been having trouble controlling them, too.”

Ryland looked between us, his expression falling into a deeper shock at what was unfolding before him. “But sights don’t change. Sain said—”

“It’s happened to me before.” I swallowed heavily, the sound audible in the stunned silence of the room.

Ilyan’s focus finally snapped from the air he had been acquainting himself with, one look prompting me to continue, one look telling me I had no other choice except to admit what had happened.

“I was only a child … long before you were born. I saw Ovailia’s true mate, and then I saw it change. No, Sain changed the sight. He created a Zlomeny.”

“Ovailia’s true mate?” Ilyan could barely get the words out.

“I saw Ovailia, saw the joy and happiness she was supposed to have…” Then he had changed it, and it was devoid of all the joy I had seen that day. She always was—come to think of it—sour and angry. Even on the day when she had bonded herself to Sain, the man she was not meant to marry.

And he knew it.

He knew it because he had seen that sight. He had also probably seen something similar before. He had already seen her. He had already chosen her.

“He changed it,” I whispered, my focus drifting to Joclyn, even if I hadn’t told her whom I had seen. “He changed what I saw so he could have her. Different angle, different point of view, but it was the same sight, distorted enough I couldn’t really tell what was going on.”

“He’s changing more,” Joclyn gasped. The words were so perfect I was again sure she could hear me. Nevertheless, she still lay there, eyes black as she looked into the void of sight, face blank as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“He couldn’t have.” Ryland’s voice was dead, as though he himself was piecing it together yet refusing to accept it.

“What all did you see in the sight? How did he change it?” Ilyan finally asked, volatile anger erupting over his face, the grip he had on Joclyn increasing until I was positive he was going to break her in half. However, he only buried his face in her hair. The light in his eyes faded, although not enough to sever the hard edge of fear that had come over me.

Normally, I could face Ilyan’s temper, but I was an old man, my magic gone. I wasn’t facing anything.

“I saw the bonding again, but this time, with Sain in the place of the groom. Tatí threatened me, told me of the broken sight, of how some things are wrong. The way Joclyn described her sight to me, the way they pull differently after the change, the noise and the static … It’s the same.”

Ilyan fixed me with the hardness of a scowl so deep that, for a moment, I could actually see a shadow of his father in him, something I had never thought I would see.