Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)(24)

My breath came in staccato spurts as I pulled the earth’s magic from the air, my own swelling as it came in contact with it. My body ached the more I pulled, the more I worked. The exhaustion that weighed on me was almost enough to topple me over. I might have if it wasn’t for the deep strains of earth magic. The powerful waves moved through me like a soothing balm. The pure power was intoxicating.

My body acted like a filter as I pressed my magic into Dramin, the dangerous power of the earth’s magic trapped inside of me, while the powerful strains moved softly into him. I layered the magic as I had before, the strong blankets moving one after another over Dramin’s heart, over the dying flame of his magic.

I wanted to believe this would be easy, that only one jolt would be necessary, but I could already feel my hands beginning to shake at what I was about to do. Afraid I would succeed at killing him this time.

I shook my head as the bitter taste of guilt filled my mouth, as I tried to focus on the way my magic felt inside of him. I could do this.

I let my magic surge once more, the pulse strong, but I could tell at once that my nerves had depleted the strength. It wasn’t enough.

“Come on, Jos, don’t be a wuss,” I scolded myself as I closed my eyes, ready to try again.

Only to have another form of magic stop me in my tracks.

Every nerve in my spine jolted in fear as magic the color of ice, and just as cold, struck my body.

The wet chill of the unfamiliar magic wound down my spine as my heart shuddered in my chest. I gasped and tensed, my power surging as my magic bolted through my brother in a torrent of force. It should have been enough to end his life, but instead it did what I had been trying to do all along. Dramin’s magic ignited at the potent surge, his magic catching fire as the pulse of power spread through his body.

I glanced at the dark room around me, expecting to find the source of the icy magic. Nothing was there, nothing but the heat of Dramin’s magic. I ran my magic through him, checking for injury, failing organs, anything. I felt nothing other than his magic as it coursed through him.

I only hoped it would stay that way this time.

I bit my lip as I stood, my hands unwinding from Dramin’s warming fingers. My breath remained captive in the expectation that his magic would flicker and die with the lost contact, but it stayed strong as I released him, the heavy flow warm and welcoming in the air around me. A powerful pulse of life now wound through him.

I had done it; I had healed him.

I didn’t dare move as I waited for him to wake and be whole, but he didn’t move; his magic didn’t flare. He just lay as still as stone, the same deathly sheen on his face.

I clenched my hands together as I stared at him, not wanting to accept that after everything, I had failed, that even though his magic was alive, Dramin was still destined to die.

I could feel my magic buzz through my fingers as thunder rumbled around me—desperate to try again—when the same icy magic I had felt minutes before shot through me again, the touch cold and painful.

My magic surged in an attempt to find where the terrifying jolt had come from, to find out who was coming, but as quickly as the magic had come, it left.

I stood still in the room, trying to steady my breathing as I scanned the dark, my magic soaring down dark hallways as I searched, only to find no one. I stretched out to the very edges of the abbey, but still, I felt nothing. No sign of the ice that had washed over me.

Until it came again.

Then the familiarity of the magic made sense. It was the feeling I had always gotten before Cail had come, cold like ice.

My breathing picked up into frantic pants as the thought raged through me, my insanity trying its hardest to drag me back down to the nightmare that haunted me. I fought against the pull, against the fear, Ilyan’s song coming right to mind in a desperate attempt to cling to the good memories and not let the blood that ran down the walls take over.

Still, I couldn’t stop my brain from screaming that Cail was here, that he had found me. Even though I knew he was dead.

I needed to get out of here.

My shoes slipped as I ran from Dramin in a desperate attempt to get away, to run from the nightmare that was so willing to drag me down. My feet sounded like bass drums against the stone walls, the heavy slaps of my shoes echoing in my ears. I opened the door and closed it without looking, not caring if it made a sound. My focus was only on making it back to my room, on getting away from Cail.

I didn’t even get the chance.

The cold magic flared again at the same time that something deep inside of me screamed in desperation. I fell against the wall right outside of Dramin’s door, my whole body seizing as footsteps even softer than mine made their way toward me, the familiar sound of his gait freezing me in place.

Except it wasn’t Cail, and the knowledge of who it really was gave me no chance to escape.

Ryland had found me.





Seven



“Jos!” Ryland’s voice erupted behind me, loud and unmistakably happy. I wished I could feel the joy that I had felt so long ago, but all I felt was the cold dread that I had lived with for months.

I dug the soft pads of my fingers into the stone I leaned against in my desperation to escape, the sound of my heartbeat a bass drum that a normal human wouldn’t have been able to live through. It banged painfully against my chest as my voice ripped into a scream of panic that burst through the darkness around me, even though I knew my yell would do nothing.