Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(71)

“He would have done the same to us,” Wyn hissed, without looking away from the body in front of her. “Don’t like it, don’t travel with a trained killer.”

“As long as that assassin doesn’t turn her skill on me, I think I will be happy.” Sain laughed humorously as the vision changed to Ryland as a child, speaking to his Mother through the bars of a cell, their hands intertwined.

“Don’t cry, my little love, you are stronger than your Father will ever be.” Her voice echoed around the space as Ryland cried.

The sight changed again to Cail crying in the dark and Wyn wrapping her arms around him in an attempt to comfort him, a ripped t-shirt hanging off of her shoulders. A flash of fire met my eyes before it faded again to me crying on a bed, older this time, screaming for help as Ryland moved toward me, his eyes gentle and blue.

“Jos?” Ryland said softly, “I’m not going to hurt you, honey.”

“Go… Away!”

A quick change showed me an image of Ilyan running down a stone hallway, his hair short and dark with his face covered in blood and bruises. My heart ached for a reason I couldn’t place. My head began to pound as the speed of my sight increased, some images barely registering, the voices beginning to overrun one another.

“Take him and use him for your benefit; maybe that will give you the upper hand.” Edmund said as he spoke to someone I couldn’t see, his hands pushing Ryland’s weak body away from him.

It flashed again to Cail lying in a chair, Edmund and Timothy around him. “Make her break the bond, Cail, then the sight can never be.”

The colors washed away to something else before Edmund had even finished speaking.

“If you touch her, Father, I swear I will end you,” Ryland was firm, but Edmund only laughed before they continued to spar in the basement of their estate.

The image of them sparing changed to Ilyan holding me against a wall, a building burning around us, his hand soft against my face. I could just make out tears flowing down each of our cheeks before it changed again to Ilyan walking into a large stone hall that I had never seen before, his hair short against his head. It flashed one last time, a man’s scream echoing in my head.

The scream followed me back into reality, my knees aching from being pressed against the cold stone floor. I panted heavily as the vision left me, everything that I saw combined into a jumbled mass. But one thing stood out. One thing was crystal clear to me.

I felt Dramin’s arms come around me as he replaced the cloak, my breathing slowing down.

“It’s okay, Siln?,” he said softly. “It’s over now.”

I continued to gasp as I reached for Dramin, holding onto his wrist tightly.

“Dramin,” I gasped, “I saw your death... I saw...”

I felt my head go light, my vision blacking out as the sight showed me his death again. He moved in front of what I could only guess was Ryland, a bright light shattering into the space around him. As I watched the scene unfold, my voice spoke in an oddly dark and monotone way. I should have been scared, but my heart rate never increased, my mind accepting my new power.

“Betrayed by your Brother in the last hour of light, you will save one who has lost more than you. It will come at the dusk of a powerful death before the blood red moon will herald a birth.”

My voice faded out as my vision returned, Dramin’s surprised face coming back into focus.

“Uncle?” I asked, alarmed at having seen his death.

I expected him to be more concerned, for panic to spill out, but instead he only nodded.

“I know.”





Twenty-Two


I clutched the mug between my hands and sat back in the large squishy armchair, letting my magic pull the fur tighter around me. I kept the fire strong, the eerie, orange light casting odd shadows around the empty chamber. The only noise was the howl of the wind from the long tunnel that led to the blizzard outside, the sound deep and relaxing. I sunk further into the chair, willing myself to stay awake.

Dramin had carried me back to the main hall after my first sight. I had been too weak to get there on my own. He had draped me in blankets and talked on and on about the significance of what had just happened, and what I may have seen. He taught me to use recall for my sight, but I was so weak I wasn’t able to sustain it for long.

He told me about the subtle changes for sights of the past, the dirty quality of the image as well as the tinny distanced voice of the subjects. But my tired body was unable to remember much.

The image of Wyn comforting her Brother upset me the most. That was obviously not a sight from the past, and it made me anxious to know what it could mean.

Dramin had tried for about an hour to get me to use my recall to view the sight again and in further detail, or to even be able to call the Black Water myself, but it was no use. I was too tired and my mind too unfocused.

I knew why. I had a feeling that Dramin knew too, but I wasn’t going to say it out loud, nor was I going to visit the T?uha to remedy the matter.

I was scared.

I was as scared of the T?uha as I had become of my nightmares. I looked toward Ilyan against my better judgment. I needed to be strong, and pining over the current disposition of my Protector wasn’t going to help me much.

My Protector. It was odd to think of all that the words had come to mean to me – all that he had come to mean to me.