Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(23)

I fought the need to fold into myself, pushing away the monsters as I turned to Dramin, focusing on the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He still remained in the same place, in the same position, and in the same clothes that he had from hours before. Nothing had changed.

I let out a shaky breath as I moved into the room, the powerful waves of my magic bathing the room with warmth in their mad attempt to reach him. It was the same as it had been with Wyn. My magic knew what to do, and it was desperate to begin.

“Hello, Uncle,” I whispered as I came up beside him, that familiar phrase sounding strangely out of place. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but I’m here to fix it.”

My voice trembled as I pleaded with the mostly lifeless man in front of me, asking him to forgive me. I took the last two steps, my fingers shaking as they reached toward the grey, clammy skin of his hands.

My magic reacted as my hands wrapped around his, the thin strands of my power flowing into him in eager anticipation. I let it flow, hoping it would warm him and take away the deathly hue in his skin.

Hoping it would bring Dramin back.

I exhaled as it filled him, my breath shuddering and crackling through the silence of the room. My nerves had almost completely gone, my mind so focused on what I was doing that there wasn’t any room for my insecurities or for doubt. It was only me and the magic that flowed through my fingers.

I let it move into him like a slow drip from a fountain, waves of power settling through him like thin layers of paper. I was sure it was too much; I could already feel his kidney giving out under the pressure. His heart beat so wildly, I was afraid it was going to put him into cardiac arrest. For the first time, I actually wished I had chosen to take biology instead of chemistry last year. I probably shouldn’t have used so much magic; I knew too much would kill him, but something told me I needed to, and I didn’t question it.

Tiny beads of sweat began to form underneath the braid that lay against my neck as I searched for the injury as Thom had taught me. The colorful swirls of the watercolor paint that my mind created shifted as I searched through him, the abstract images dancing while my magic moved. My shoulders tensed as I watched the bright colors within Dramin begin to dim, the black streaks of death that lived deep inside of him taking shape. The lines in my forehead wrinkled as I looked into the poison that was trying to kill him.

The wispy strands of his magic had curled and died into ash that settled in the pit of his heart. I needed to give back what I had taken from him. Even if he never woke up, even if he really passed away, I would make sure he left this world whole and with the most important thing.

His magic.

Everything in me felt tense as I worked to re-spark the tiny flame of magic that still lived inside of him, the light smothered by the dark soot. I coaxed and swelled my magic around that spark, but nothing happened. Dramin stayed still, the tiny flame doing nothing more than flicker inside of him.

My fingers wound themselves tightly through Dramin’s. I clung to him, my heart pulsing painfully as my magic did, the weakening strain in Dramin’s heart heating.

I jumped as a flash of silvery light shot through the darkness, the white heat of lightning catching the ground just beyond the window. The air crackled in an explosion that shook through me, electrifying the stagnant air. My magic jumped in fear that caused a bolt of energy to run into Dramin. I fought the scream of fright as the magic filled him, terror wrapping around me at what I had done.

The jolt was enough to kill him.

I waited in agony to hear Dramin’s last heartbeat, to feel his final breath against my skin, but instead, I felt the spark of his magic jump and flare under the surge, then nothing more.

His heart still beat strong under my fingertips.

I didn’t question how he had survived the surge as I gritted my teeth together, my magic flaring into his in a pulse of fire, coaxing his growing flame to find life. I tried to keep the yell restrained in my throat as my magic tired, my body heaving in exertion.

Dramin’s magic continued to grow and flare until it was almost what it had been before: a powerful torrent of ability and determination. It was more than that though: it was alive.

I had saved him.

I could feel the full torrent of his ability inside of him, his magic alive and well. My soul seemed to soar as I felt it, pulling away the layers of my magic from the now powerful flame of his ability, only to feel his magic flicker and die.

“No,” I gasped as a weight collapsed over me.

I felt his magic return to the ash it had been. It hadn’t been enough. Healing him wasn’t as easy as I had assumed it to be, no matter how strong I felt, no matter how my magic had guided me. My attempts hadn’t been enough.

I needed a jumpstart, like an EKG machine or a car battery. The pulse had been an accident before, but now I needed to try. My lips pressed together in a tight line at the thought. Doing this was going to be dangerous. Too much magic and I would kill him, too little and it wouldn’t work. There weren’t any more excuses; I had to try.

I needed more power, more magic.

Before, I had taken it from Ilyan. I knew I still could, I could feel the gentle hum of his magic through the ?tít, but I couldn’t risk waking him, not when I was so close to succeeding.

A low rumble of thunder bled through the dark room, my head jerking up to the sound.

I hadn’t only taken magic from Ilyan before.

I smiled toward the dark storm that swirled through the window, the surge of the earth’s magic ticking over my chilled skin as it rode on the wind, relaxing me, energizing me.