Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(33)

I controlled my breathing, squaring my jaw to face him. His eyes were so full of hatred that my stomach tightened and churned in warning. I fought against his hold, my arms swinging wildly at him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to let me go.

“If whipping doesn’t work, make the horse submit.” he stated blandly, as if reciting the words in a book.

His hand flew through the air and made contact with my stomach. I gasped as the air left my lungs and was replaced with the pain of the punch’s impact.

I reached up and cupped my hands around his face, letting my magic flow into him in a boiling heat. He should have screamed in pain, but instead he smiled before slapping me hard across the face. Ryland released the hold on my hair, sending me tumbling to the roof’s surface. I reached up and touched my swelling face, unsurprised by the trickle of blood flowing from my nose.

I moved myself onto hands and knees as his leg swung forward, his heavy shoe making contact with my stomach. Pain jolted up my spine and stayed there, centering in the tender bones and tissues of my back.

I fell to the ground, my stomach landing hard on the gravel of the roof. I tried to sit up but was stopped as Ryland once again came to sit on my legs. I cringed in pain as he leaned over me, the weight of his body adding to my agony.

“Stupid girl,” he said, pushing me further into the gravel, the large ruby of his necklace pushing hard and cold into my skin. “Haven’t you noticed? Our magic doesn’t have any effect on each other. If I wish to break you, I’ll have to do so literally. One. Bone. At. A. Time.” With each word he ground my wrist into the gravel, pressing the delicate bones into a dangerously compacted state. I felt the snap as my bones broke, the turquoise bracelet Ilyan had given me also snapping under the pressure. I screamed at the pain that shot up my arms as each bone cracked.

My magic pulsed, attempting to heal me even as he broke me. And then I realized, magic didn’t work on him, but it could still work against him. I pressed my hand into the gravel beneath me and pulsed the panicked flow of my magic into it, sending thousands of pieces of gravel off the roof and into Ryland’s face. He jumped away from me, unable to breathe or see through the arsenal that I shot at him. I spun around, ignoring the pain that still shot through my body, to magically reach for the air unit and rip it off the roof and right into Ryland.

The large metal box smashed into him and sent him flying into the street below. I crawled to the edge of the roof and peeked over. Ryland had landed with the air conditioner on top of him, right in the middle of the brutal battle that Ilyan had been fighting.

At first all I saw was his hand sticking out from underneath the large unit. It was like the Wizard of Oz. I expected the fingers to curl away into a lifeless form, but instead they flexed and moved with strength. We didn’t have much time.

The whole area lay in ruins. Most of the cantina was on fire, the street was ripped apart and full of giant pot holes, and pieces of asphalt were littered around like odd pieces of modern art. Ilyan stood straight and tall, his braid still sleek and falling down his back. Cail was gasping and clutching his side, while Edmund stood next to him laughing. When the air conditioning unit hit the ground the fighting had stopped and Cail had fallen to the ground, thankful for the chance to heal. Edmund, however, seemed uninterested in the interruption and squared his shoulders, his hands moving swiftly through the air.

I could see the air quiver. Color and energy built as he gathered his magic together. It was obviously meant to be a death blow.

Ilyan seemed to sense that as well, and without even a word, he took off into the air. Edmund’s explosion lit up the air behind us as Ilyan scooped me up and continued his flight. I felt his magic grow fast and strong inside of me, the shield stronger again thanks to our physical contact.

Almost immediately, the glow of Edmund’s useless attack faded, and I could hear him yelling angrily at his apparent loss.

Ilyan soared through the night sky, the hot wind whipping at our clothes. I looked back to the destroyed city street, relieved to see Ryland standing, but thumping all the more at the possibility of being followed. They had proven once already how quickly they could find me.

“Are you alright?” Ilyan’s panicked voice broke through my thoughts and I turned to face him.

“A little beat up, but what’s new?” I tried to laugh but my lungs ached from the large bruises I was sure I had.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

I didn’t give him a response. I wasn’t sure what needed to be said.

Ilyan’s magic flowed stronger through me as he checked for more injuries, his face growing hard at what he found. Part of me wanted to push him away, but I was grateful for the comfort his warmth provided me. His arms around me a reminder that at least here I was safe.

I leaned into him as he held me, healed me, and flew us away from the man I loved.

The man who hunted me.





Eleven


We flew in silence for almost an hour. I drifted in and out of sleep while Ilyan held me, and each time I awoke my body felt better. The bones in my wrist had begun to fuse themselves together when I woke the last time, the pain masked by Ilyan’s magic. I was still very tired, but the temperature was dropping the longer we flew, and without my hoodie, my teeth had begun to chatter a bit.

“We are almost there, Siln?.” Ilyan pressed me closer to his warm torso, my magic surging in an effort to keep me warm.