Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(22)

I didn’t dare breathe as I shimmied away from him, his arm falling like a dead fish against the white sheets. The coldness of the stone floor quivered up my legs as my bare feet pressed against the smooth surface, the breath I held burning to escape at the chill. I stayed still as I waited for Ilyan to react to my movement, but he didn’t even move.

“Forgive me, love,” I whispered without knowing why. I had felt Ilyan’s own frustration when Sain had expressed his desire. His role as king had dictated his decision to let Dramin die, not his better nature. It was my better nature that I wouldn’t let lay quiet.

I uncoiled my body before slipping my feet into my red shoes and moved across the room, shuffling my feet in an attempt to be as silent as possible. The large wooden door opened noiselessly as my magic pushed into it, the gentle tap of the wood as it closed behind me sounding like a battering ram in my ears. My muscles tensed at the sound, but I pushed the anxiety away as my hands pressed against the door, waiting for a sign that Ilyan was waking up.

I stretched my magic toward him as I closed my eyes, my mind pulsing with the image of the room that came into view. Ilyan slept soundly, his arm still stretched out over the warm sheets I had just vacated. The image almost made me want to curl up next to him again. He looked so calm, so beautiful. I only wished he would understand my choice in what I was about to do.

I ignored the small flame of guilt that was trying to build inside of me and ran my hand over the edges of the door. My magic fired as I sealed the door with a heavy barrier that I hoped would keep him in place, in silence, and oblivious to my departure. I just needed enough time to get to Dramin and heal him before Ilyan woke up. It wouldn’t take him much to break through the barrier, no matter how powerful I was.

I faced the door as the excitement at healing Dramin began to grow, the guilt falling away with the knowledge that I was doing the right thing. That was, of course, before I turned, ready to make my way toward Dramin’s door that called to me through the dark.

With one look at the long, dark hallway, my ironclad cage of security slipped, releasing the demons. Muscle spasms rippled through me and my arms moved to circle around me in a desperate attempt to hold myself together.

“It’s j-just a hallway,” I reminded myself in a whisper. An ancient passageway made of stone, lined with fire-burning sconces. Just a hallway. I tried to hold on to what should have been a simple fact, but it didn’t look like just a hallway anymore. It looked like a nightmare.

My eyes widened as the walls of the passage moved in and out as they breathed, red lines trailing down the stones as they bled. My breathing picked up as I watched, my anxiety peaking as the floor seemed to shift beneath me. A small gasp escaped my lips as I clung to the door, my hands pressing into the wood as I waited for the unstable movement to stop.

My eyes snapped shut as I looked away from the horrors I faced, trying to push away my irrational fears. I kept my mind trained on the rough ridges of the ancient wood that stretched underneath my fingertips. The shadow of Ilyan’s magic bolted through the ?tít as he slept, the familiarity like a warm blanket, the strength just enough for me to push away the panic and find control over it.

The floor stabilized as my breathing settled, the rhythm matching the pulse of my heart as I focused on the black behind my eyelids.

My eyes opened to the pure grey stone of the hallway, the shadows wavering in the light that flickered from the sconces. There was nothing else, not anymore. No monsters, no demons. Just me and a clear path to Dramin.

“You are bigger than it,” I said to myself, my voice a stable whisper in the dimly lit hall. I smiled at the thought and put one foot forward, almost expecting the floor to shift at the step, but everything stayed as steady as my heartbeat. My lips twitched into a smile as I let my fingers run over the smooth, cold stone of the wall as I walked forward. My steps slow as magic pulled me toward the dying man.

The corridors stretched on forever as I moved, the flickering of the lights chipping away at my sanity. I turned one corner after another while the nightmare threatened to invade, the quick return scaring me. I had only just pushed away the fear, and to have it come back to me so soon made me doubt the progress I had thought I had made.

My heart thumped as the volatile tension wavered through me. The door came into view as I turned the last corner, the tall, wooden slab stretching high above me.

I took the last step and pressed my hand against the door, the tension in my neck growing as I paused. I was here. I could feel my magic beg me to move forward, yet I was scared. Scared I would be caught; scared I would fail. I didn’t know which fear was stronger.

I let out a shaky breath as I pushed the door open, my fingertips grazing over the smooth wood as I let it swing away from me. The door opened with a low creak that caused me to catch my breath. My eyes darted over the halls as if Ilyan would walk around the corner, but I knew it was foolish. I was too far away for him to hear me now.

I turned back to the pitch-black room where Dramin slept, fear knitting up my spine until I worried I would snap. Light filled the room as I stepped in, scaring me that I had been caught already, that someone was here, but I was alone. It was only the old torches that had lit with my arrival, my magic awakening them and filling the room with a dim, flickering light.

The light gave life to shadows that rose up like a forest. Dark fingers reached toward the ceiling, the skeletal ridges clawing at the joists and threatening to collapse the room. The frayed edges of my panic increased, my muscles overwrought.