Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(50)

“Unless you were talking to the cheeseburger, in which case, I will leave you alone.” Ilyan laughed, my reaction obviously having gone unnoticed. Thank goodness.

I pulled the bag open and removed the haphazardly wrapped burger, silently thanking Ilyan for keeping it warm. The smell of meat, cheese, and mayonnaise wafted up to me. Right now I didn’t care that my last cheeseburger had been the night I had to run from Ryland. I was happy for what could only be described as comfort food.

I took a bite and savored it, letting everything roll around in my mouth. I groaned and slammed my head against the house in appreciation.

“Fat, burned meat, and dead veggies… and they get that kind of reaction?” Ilyan said, disgusted.

“Leave me alone, Ilyan, me and my cheeseburger are having a moment.” I took another bite, ignoring the fact that he was staring at me.

“Do you want some?” I asked, waving the burger in his face. He cringed away from me, his face disgusted.

“No.”

I laughed and moved closer, waving the smell toward him.

“That is far worse than mac and cheese and Vienna sausages.”

“You know you want some,” I teased, enjoying the fact that I could make him smile.

“I haven’t eaten meat in five hundred years, Joclyn. I am not about to break that trend now.”

“Don’t sound like an old man, Ilyan.” I smiled broadly at him before taking another bite of the cheeseburger, rolling back my eyes in slightly exaggerated joy.

Ilyan laughed at me as his phone in my pocket rang. I pulled it out and handed it to him, but he only turned it around to show me Wyn’s name on the caller I.D.

“Speaker phone,” I said through a full mouth, covering my face politely.

Ilyan laughed and rolled his eyes before answering the call, hitting speakerphone as he did. He didn’t even get to say hello before the sound from the phone hit our ears.

Ilyan’s face lost its smile and my cheeseburger lost all flavor as screams, yelling, and explosions filtered from the phone’s speaker. Part of me wished that it was only a movie, that the sound wasn’t real. But I knew better.

“Jos! Jos, pick up the phone!” Wyn’s screech was loud above the screams, panic and tears lining her voice heavily.

I swallowed deeply, the cheeseburger feeling like lead going down my throat. Ilyan stood in a panic, holding the phone in front of him as he yelled into it.

“Wynifred! What’s going on?” Ilyan’s voice was commanding and powerful, the waves of it spreading out from him.

“Ilyan? Oh thank heavens!” There was a pause and more screams, Wyn panted through the mouthpiece.

I stood, my body tense as I leaned into Ilyan, trying to see the phone as if the screen would show me a play by play as to what was going on. Ilyan’s arm wrapped around me, his muscles tense as he held me around my waist tightly. I had the distinct impression he might launch us into the air at any moment.

“Wynifred?” Ilyan asked, his powerful voice shaking through my rib cage. “Where is Talon?”

“They got him, Ilyan. They took him. I think...”

Another pause and more screams. I swear I could hear Wyn whimper and scream in the background. I clutched Ilyan, my fist wrapping around the fabric of his black polo shirt. When Wyn spoke again, it was clear she wasn’t talking to us, her voice seemed farther away as if she had dropped her phone somewhere.

“No! Please don’t!” I cringed as she screamed, her voice cracking and breaking. Other voices yelled in the background but I couldn’t make anything out. Ilyan’s knuckles went white as he clutched his phone, his arm tightening around me.

“Father! Please don’t! Don’t let them hurt me!” I listened to her plead with her father. The thought that Timothy could be there, in Prague, was terrifying.

Wyn screamed again, her voice breaking and crackling though the phone’s speaker. I turned my head into Ilyan’s chest, not wanting to hear anymore.

“Ilyan!” Wyn screamed, her voice losing strength. “Run!”

She hadn’t even gotten the full word out before the line went dead. I peeked out from behind Ilyan’s shirt, not wanting to see. His knuckles remained white and hard against the phone, his jaw clenching below his ice-like eyes.

“Ilyan?”

He didn’t respond to me. He stared at the phone as the screen flashed white and Ovailia’s name popped up on the screen. It rang – once, twice, a third time. We stayed frozen against each other until she answered, the same screams and explosions sounding in the background.

“Ilyan?” Her voice was frazzled and scared. I had never heard her sound so raw before. “Ilyan, where are you? Please tell me you are all right.”

“We are fine, Ovailia. What is going on? Wyn called...”

“They took her,” Ovailia cut him off, panting as she moved through whatever destruction was tearing through the space. “They took Talon too. I don’t know where he is, but Timothy dragged Wyn off.”

“Who’s they?” Ilyan’s voice was hard as he spoke through his tightened jaw.

“Father. Timothy. There are hundreds of them.” I cringed I didn’t need her to elaborate; I knew who they were now, Edmund’s hundreds of Trpaslíks.

“I don’t know how they got in. Our whole city... I don’t know how many are going to make it out.”