Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(42)

“He could see me, couldn’t he?” I asked.

“Well, not you,” Ilyan said through a smile as he moved to wipe the flour from my face with the palm of his hand. “But he could see the flour. So you were essentially a floating face.”

I stared at Ilyan for a minute before joining in with his laughter, the ridiculousness of what had happened hitting me.

“So much for getting a shower tonight,” I said through my giggles.

“True. But you do make one great ghost,” Ilyan said lightly before pressing his lips against my forehead.

My laughter stopped. I hadn’t been prepared for the gentle swoop my stomach experienced at his touch.





Thirteen


One night without the dreams had changed something about them. Now, the trees were taller, darker, and more sinister. The singular growling I had previously heard was all around me, the one voice changing to many voices. Each new tone warned me of their impending arrival.

I stayed glued to the spot in the middle of the large clearing, waiting to know what else had changed, what I should do, which way to run. I spun in place as I tried to find the culprits of the noise, trying to figure out if I should attack or if I should run. The dreams had never felt so real before, the change was frightening.

My chest heaved as I breathed in and out, my nerves coursing wildly as the growling grew, figures forming amongst the trees. Their black shapes shifted around the tall trunks of the forest. They melded into the grey night only to disappear a moment later. They shifted and moved around me until they took on real substance, the figures forming a wide circle, trapping me.

The growls deepened, and the shifting of the shapes increased. I stood still, waiting for the dream to tell me what to do. I felt my magic moving under my skin, but it wasn’t a normal surge of energy I felt in preparation for an attack. This was the surge of a pull, the pull I felt in Santa Fe when Ryland was around. Ryland was close. My mind reeled in a desperate attempt to figure out what was going on.

I knew this was a dream, but something was different, something was off. I stood still, showing feigned strength, even though I was desperate to hide.

All at once the growling stopped, the shapes disappeared and I was alone. I stopped spinning. I stopped searching. I felt the pull of my magic again and tried to ignore the desperation my heart felt at its call.

I closed my eyes and tried to wipe the feeling from me, preparing myself for the battle I knew was coming. It wasn’t fair for my haunted dreams to make me fight Ryland again so soon.

And then I heard it, the one growl that had always begun the dreams. I listened intently, trying to decide if it would be Cail, Ryland, or Timothy. It was always one of the three.

“So, I bet you thought you were free. Free of these nightly terrors.” I spun at the voice, my insides tensing at seeing Edmund standing at the edge of the tree line, Cail standing next to him protectively.

Edmund moved out of the trees, Cail following, as the dark shapes that I had thought to have vanished materialized again, dozens of Trpaslíks emerging from the woods. Cail stood apart from those around him, his dark eyes dancing with menacing joy. I shrunk away from him instinctively, waiting for him to pounce at Edmund’s command.

“Do you really think you are safe?” Edmund asked again, my insides freezing over at the wicked sound. He didn’t sound as if he was enjoying himself anymore, he was simply angry now.

“I am safe.” I pushed my voice out as strong as I could make it, the sound bouncing around us. Cail smiled at my response, while Edmund seemed to fume more, his large frame becoming even more menacing.

“Safe with your Protector? Safe with Ilyan?” Edmund spoke his name like acid. It was the polar opposite to how he spoke to Ilyan. The two-faced nature of this man was unsurprising, but still unsettling.

I didn’t challenge him with a response. I simply faced him, my eyes never daring to move away.

“He would rather hide you than face us,” Edmund sneered. “Hide like a coward. Is that what you are, a coward?”

I straightened my shoulders and met him straight on. “No more of a coward than you are.”

Edmund laughed, the sound deep and joyful, making the hairs on my head prickle.

“Really? How am I a coward, Joclyn, can you tell me that? I never hesitate. I fight when needed. Not like some newly awakened half-breed I know.”

I flinched inwardly at his verbal assault but didn’t let it show.

“At least I don’t kill people for sport.” The bitter taste of loss and revenge coated my tongue.

Edmund sneered at me, his lips turned up in a joyous smile.

“You’re right. You simply choose not to kill anyone.” His eyes flashed and I took a step back out of habit. I had seen that look enough in these dreams to know when to be scared of it.

This time my reaction was visible, and my movement did not go unnoticed. Cail stepped toward me, his body coming precariously close as he came between me and Edmund. I moved away only to find a wall of henchmen behind me.

“You are scaring her, Cail.” I couldn’t miss the wicked joy in Edmund’s voice.

“Let me do it now,” Cail said as his eyes dug into me.

“Be gentle with her, Cail. I am enjoying this little game. I want to see how it pans out.”

“Oh, but sir, she seems to think that her dear Protector is innocent,” Cail said, his eyes never leaving mine.