Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(67)

“No, I was actually going to suggest the exact opposite. Because of the Drak magic your father holds, thanks to his kiss and the magic you hold in your body from the water that has touched your skin, you could control her.”

“I don’t want to control her.”

“Perhaps control is the wrong word,” I mused, my hands twisting as I shifted in the rickety chair, wishing there was some way I could support my weight enough to pace the floor.

“When we were in the cave, when Ryland had pulled her into Cail’s mind”—the boy recoiled from where he stood, but I ignored him—”you tried to connect with her magic to pull her back.”

“Yes?”

“Do it again,” I gasped out, the tension in my chest growling with anticipation. “But this time, connect with the Drak inside of you to see what she sees. Give her the Drak magic you possess in order to strengthen her, to help her find a way out of whatever my father has done to her.”

“My Drak magic?” He was obviously skeptical.

I interrupted him without waiting, something I knew he normally wouldn’t appreciate, but given the situation, I was willing to risk it.

“Yes, that magic that is tied to your father, your mate, and the Black Water that flows through you. Connecting to magic is how Draks share the sights. Perhaps it is what she needs—someone to share the sight with her, not control it. Someone to help her find the base of reality and take control of her ability. Break whatever bind Sain has placed over her. Set her magic free. Set her free.”

He gawked at me, his pride keeping him from admitting his lack of knowledge. No one knew anything about Drak magic. It was always carefully guarded with secrets Sain had imposed on everyone since the beginning. Even then, with everything I had ascertained in the last few days, I wasn’t sure how much of that was based in truth.

For all I was aware, I knew nothing about my own magic or even what it could do. I had no tools to give him beyond what I had already shared.

Sain’s rules had kept everyone pinioned under a control so deep they never saw the sun. Now I was breaking the rules. I was going to set them free.

“I have been fighting,” Joclyn moaned, the broken speech drowned by the tension in the room. “I’m going to keep fighting.”

“Sain is trying to restrain her for a reason,” I went on as Ilyan broke his contact with me to look from Ryland to the girl in question. “What her magic is doing is more powerful than any Drak magic I have seen, any Drak magic I have been told exists. Perhaps her magic is what Drak magic truly is. Perhaps it is what Sain has kept hidden all along.”

“If you don’t try, Ilyan, I will,” Ryland spoke up from the foot of the bed, his voice shaking a bit. I was confident he was fighting with whatever demon still dwelled inside of him. “She’s my best friend, and our father’s blood is in me, as well.”

The two brothers looked at each other, locked in a gaze I was positive was not built in competition for the first time, but in understanding. In support.

“No,” Ilyan contested, his hands shaking as he pulled the burned one out from underneath Joclyn. “I will do anything to save her. I have already proven that time and time again, and this isn’t so much saving her as unlocking her.”

The moment Ilyan had spoken, there was only silence intermingled with the sobs of the girl and the shuffled noises of the boy.

No one could look anywhere other than at Ilyan as he pressed his hand to the nape of her neck, the burn on his hand connecting again to the mark on her skin with a jolt that, considering the way he moved, was filled with enough electricity to charge a city street.

He gasped at the contact, hissed at the power, and his eyes flew to mine in a request for guidance.

“Find the burn inside of you, Ilyan. Find the water. Follow it.”

It was advice he would never want to hear. There was so much water in his body, burns and poison that had caused him agony for centuries, pain I knew he had fought against since the day the water first scarred his chest. And now I was telling him to follow it. Now I was telling him to feel it. Regardless, he didn’t hesitate; he closed his eyes, gasping and hissing in agonizing pain as his body tensed, the arms stiffening around Joclyn as the agony became worse.

My muscles tight as I leaned forward, wishing there was a way I could be closer to them, connect with them, guide them through whatever was about to happen.

Nevertheless, I was trapped, watching as Ryland was. His hands were wrapped tightly around the old, iron footboard, leaning toward them with a look on his face that made it clear he had forgotten to breathe.

I didn’t blame him.

Ilyan closed his eyes as the pain became too much, a yell breaking from his chest in a growl filled with the same agony, the same feral sound ripping through the space. I cringed against it, scared of what was about to happen when Joclyn’s voice joined his. The tone of her pain matched his in perfect harmony. It was a song of a screams that ripped through the hot air, ripped through my heart.

And then Ilyan opened his eyes, ones as black as Joclyn’s looking back at me. I saw them for one moment before a painful weight in my chest ran through me. An agonizing weight ripped around me like fire that absorbed me, fire that ruled me, fire that pulled me right into the same sight Joclyn had been trapped in, right into the same sight Ilyan now saw.

Right into the sight that had left me so long ago.