Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(39)

My eyelids closed a bit longer than usual, and Ilyan chuckled before lifting and moving my body gently to the inside of the bed, against the wall.

My head sunk into the soft pillow, and my body was swallowed by the soft comforter he covered me with. I missed the fabric of a hoodie against my skin, but was exhausted enough not to let it bother me too much. Ilyan tucked me in, his hands sliding over the blankets and flattening the fabric against me.

“Sleep, Joclyn. I will be here when you wake to take all the bad dreams away.” I smiled up at him, my eyes hooded and groggy. He ran his finger along my jaw line, but my eyes had closed before his finger made contact with my mark.





Twelve


The dreams never came. I woke up that evening to Ilyan’s arms wrapped round me, his deep breathing in my ear. I wiggled away from the contact. While I had become comfortable with Ilyan in a lot of ways, that wasn’t one of them. I don’t know what made it okay with the dreams as opposed to without them, but there was a line there. I shrugged off his proximity as being an effect of the cramped quarters (after all, where else was he going to sleep?) and moved as far away from him as possible. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t very far.

I pressed my back against the wall, the dim light of dusk seeping in a bit through the heavy blackout curtains. We had slept all day, and thanks to the absence of the dreams, I felt as refreshed as I had in months. Of course, I still didn’t feel perfect. It had been over twenty four hours since I had last visited Ryland in the T?uha, and I was already beginning to feel the effects of that.

Rested in one way and exhausted in another. I yawned widely and pulled the necklace out from underneath my dirty white shirt. I sincerely hoped a shower could be in my future today.

I looked at Ilyan, sleeping with his mouth slightly ajar, before turning away, leaning my head against the wall, and plunging my magic into the necklace. I smiled in excitement, looking forward to building a city with Ryland this morning, before closing my eyes and opening them on a disaster zone.

I didn’t know how else to explain it. Ryland had destroyed all of his masterpieces before the last T?uha I shared with him, but now our white space held even more destruction. What had once been perfectly smooth white walls, were crumbling and cracking to reveal dark grey veining and what I could only describe as slime. The entire place looked like it was rotting.

I turned on the spot, but the space was empty as far as I could see. I could not even hear any crying like I had before. This time, everything was filled with silence.

I began to walk, making sure not to step on any of the dangerous looking fissures that were lining the space, my footsteps echoing around me ominously. I couldn’t help the fear that crept up my spine. The air was filled with tension, and my heart was screaming at me in warning. Everything here reminded me of the nightmares I was plagued with, not the sweet moments I shared with Ryland.

This deterioration didn’t make sense. Ryland’s behavior in our last visit might suggest a connection to my dreams, but I didn’t know something like this was possible.

“Ryland?” I didn’t dare talk too loud, scared I would find him in his same disgruntled state I had found him in before. There was no answer, so I continued walking, my panic growing as the destruction increased.

I had made it about halfway across the silent space when a smell of intense rotting reached my nose. It was sweet and pungent like rotting fruit but with the terrible undertone of death. It reminded me of the dumpster in the alley behind our apartment complex, the dumpster I almost died behind. The smell continued to grow as I moved, until I could go no further.

I pressed my hand against my face trying to disrupt the smell, but it kept coming in waves of intensity. My vision began to blur as my brain was deprived of oxygen, so I moved back a bit to escape it, my eyes still scanning the space where the smell was emanating from. The veins of deterioration increased the further you moved in that direction, until the floor became a black mass. Not the gentle black of velvet, but a deep, pulsing mass of oil and dirt.

I felt a pull toward the darkest area. I didn’t need to be told what was over there, I knew it was Ryland. The thought of my little friend trapped in that mess made my heart clench. I took a few steps forward only to be pushed back again by the smell.

“What are you doing here?” I spun at Ryland’s small voice, his tiny frame standing behind me.

I looked down to him, surprised to see his face twisted in fear and anger. I had seen that look on him once before, but he had been much older then. Seeing it again made my stomach flip.

“I came to see you, Ryland,” I tried to say as normally as I could. “What happened here?”

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said, ignoring my question.

He wasn’t even looking at me, he was looking behind me at the black mass as if he expected something to jump out at him. I followed his gaze, freezing when I saw that it had moved closer.

“What is it, Ryland?”

He didn’t answer, he simply grabbed my hand and began dragging me away, his little body putting as much of his strength into it as he could. Even with that, he barely moved me. I could still feel the pull toward the darkness, something calling me toward it. My feet stayed planted as he pulled.

“You have to get out of here, Jossy,” he pleaded, his fear growing even more.

“Ryland? What’s going on?”