Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(6)

“I am trying, Siln?. There are normally ways around this, but nothing is working.”

His eyes were shining with tears and boring into me with that same pained look he had before. He moved his hand from my head to rest his fingers against my mark.

“I can’t let you die, Siln?. I will do everything in my power to stop it.”

I couldn’t look at him anymore. I couldn’t cope with seeing him cry over me. I didn’t want to.

I rolled away from him, calling out as the pain engulfed my body again. Ilyan helped to move me and lifted the blanket over me.

“Sleep, Joclyn. You need your strength.”

I barely registered that the flow of his magic had changed before I was plunged into the black abyss of sleep.





I had been here before.

I had stood in the center of this clearing a hundred times. I had looked up into these trees and watched their long arms stretch to the sky in hopeful longing. I watched them now, and although they were the same, something was terrifyingly different. Perhaps it was the color, or the way the branches cut a jagged edge into the night sky. Whatever it was, it made my heart stutter.

A thick mist swirled around my legs, picking up the light-weight cotton of my pajama pants. It crept over the forest floor in a dense cloud that wet my bare feet and made the forest floor look like a living thing with its rise and flow.

I heard a deep growl behind me and my body tensed, although I didn’t dare to turn. There was a pause as the mist continued to roll and swell before the growl returned accompanied by warm putrid breath against my ear. The deep sound rumbled through me as the fog swelled, the owner’s hard chest rippled against my back.

“Hello, Joclyn.”

Cail.

The fog took on substance, the sound of his breathing freezing me for a second. I could almost feel his warmth, his excitement, rippling off of him and increasing my fear. I felt his magic pulse, one influx of energy reverberating through the heavy sludge of magic inside of me. It was enough to serve as a warning. So I ran.

My feet carried me swiftly out of the clearing, plunging me into the pitch dark of the forest. I ran as my eyes adjusted to the black and starless night. The trees flew by me as I picked up speed, my own magic attempting to carry me faster. I could still hear his foot falls behind me, the crunch of the dying plant life as he passed, marking his progress.

He was getting closer, his breathing louder, almost right behind me.

“Run Joclyn, run to my master!” he yelled from behind me, but I barely heard him. I picked up my pace and ran faster, only to feel the world around me shift and change. As I slowed in confusion, I could feel carpet under my dirty feet and the air no longer smelled so crisp and vibrant. Everything here was dying.

I looked down the hall. Once again I was in a place I knew, but nothing about it was quite right. The cream colored walls were dirty and covered with black spider webs of soot and flame, the carpet burned away in giant patches. Part of the wall to my right had been blown away, leaving a gaping hole into the night sky.

I walked along the burnt fragments of carpet toward the door, a door I had entered almost every day of my life – Ryland’s. My heart thudded angrily in my chest as I moved closer, the slab of wood dangling by one hinge.

I ducked underneath it into his room, unsurprised to see the space gutted by flame. Embers still glowed in the corner where fragments of his bed were scattered. I stepped cautiously around the partition to where his big squishy couch sat. The sofa was torn into pieces that lay haphazardly around the space, exposed stuffing melted into the carpet and walls.

“Jos,” Ryland’s tender voice spoke from behind the battered couch. “You came.”

I stepped around the couch, my feet guiding me to him.

“Ryland!” I almost threw myself into him. He was broken and bruised, the way I last saw him. His body crumpled in on itself as he fought for control over his mind.

Burrowed into a bit of the broken couch and sections of his collapsed closet, embers of a still burning fire glowed near him, the light shimmering in his hair. I sat next to him, careful to avoid the smoldering and broken bits of the room around him.

“What did you do to your hair, Jos? I always loved your hair.”

“My hair is long again, Ryland. See.” I pulled the braid Ilyan had given me around so he could see, but his eyes were focused somewhere off in the distance, his arms lifted slightly as if he was reaching for something.

“…Steal the car…” His voice faded in and out before he slumped even further. His body giving out as his arms fell. I grabbed at him, summoning the sludge inside of me, determined to get him out of there. My hands shook as I looked around, my heart pulsing frantically. But ultimately, I knew there was nothing I could do.

“What? Not going to save your love?” I froze at Edmund’s voice, my body tensing.

“Edmund,” I gasped, moving closer to Ryland in fear.

“Go on,” he taunted, his voice deep and menacing. “Save him. Let me see how powerful you are.”

I refused to take my eyes off Edmund. He was right there – right in front of me. My magic may have been useless, thick and stagnant inside of me, but my heart beat heavier and my desire for revenge grew. I looked away from him to grab a small burning stick and hurl it at him, hoping that my weak attack would at least let him know that I was willing to fight.