Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(78)

“I would do what I have been doing, Sain. I will continue my work with Man, but at least I will know to stop looking.”

Sain studied him for a moment before coming to a decision. He nodded once and moved back to place his cloak on the throne he had originally come from. Returning to the pool, he knelt next to the water.

“Bare your chest Ilyan. This is a matter of the heart, and not one that the Black Water will take lightly. My soul tells me that this is more than it seems.” Sain spoke loudly as he leaned over the water, each of the Drak kneeling in unison as he did.

Ilyan did not hesitate before removing his tunic, the fabric lying in a heap on the ground near his feet. He moved to the center of the room wearing only the thick tights of the time and high leather boots. His chest was smooth and scar free. I had grown so used to seeing the scars that seeing him without them was odd.

“Do you wish to use my sight to know the matters of your heart, Ilyan, son of Edmund, heir to the throne of our King?” Sain’s voice was loud. It had taken on that strange dead quality I had heard in my voice when I used my sight.

“I do.”

“Then show him,” the voices of every Drak in the hall spoke at the same time, their voices hollow as well.

“Tell me of what you desire.” Sain extended his hand until it hovered right above the Black Water, his fingers barely skimming the surface.

I inhaled sharply, my stress at what all this could mean growing.

“I wish to know if the fates have designed a mate for me – be it now, or in the future. I must know if one will be born who is strong enough to hold my magic.” Ilyan’s voice ricocheted around the space, growing louder as he spoke. My neck muscles stiffened, my body reacting to what I knew was to come. What I didn’t want to hear.

“So let it be.” All the Drak spoke together as Sain plunged his hand into the water.

The moment his hand was submerged, the water seemed to come to life. The gentle ripples of before became a torrent. They bubbled over the surface in an angry pattern. The bubbles continued to grow until the water grew vertically into a pillar of thick darkness. I could no longer see my Father as he knelt beside the pool. I could see Ilyan’s back as he stood before it, his muscles flexing in anticipation.

Once the Black Water had grown to a height above his head, Ilyan called out in pain. I ran over to him in a panic, needing to help him, even though I knew this was a memory. I stopped in place as I saw what was happening. Streams of Water flowed away from the pillar to drag themselves along Ilyan’s chest. I inhaled sharply, remembering what Dramin and Thom had told me. Black Water was poisonous to any but the Drak, but contact with it was necessary for the Drak to use their sights for others.

Ilyan yelled out, his pain restrained enough that I could tell he was trying to hide how much it was hurting. He clenched his jaw as tongue after tongue of roving water dragged itself over his chest. His flesh bubbled and turned an angry red as it sliced through him, over and over. He yelled and screamed, but he did not call for them to stop. I could see the determination in his eyes, his fervent desire to know guiding him.

It took far too long for the Black Water to stop slicing away at Ilyan’s flesh. His screams died as his magic healed him, his power taking away the pain. Ilyan squared his shoulders and looked straight ahead as the Drak began to mumble, their voices overriding one another until they began to join together.

The sound was both deafening and terrifying. I cringed into myself as the sound grew in strength and in caliber. It ricocheted off of the walls and around my head until it became one voice, and as it did, the water exploded even further, the pillar extending violently up to the ceiling.

The Black Water began to swirl and ripple as colors passed over it, the sights from the Drak reflecting onto the water so that Ilyan could see them. Flashes of red began to move together before forming a tangible image of fire, of destruction.

“There is one among us…”

The Drak spoke together, their voices so precise it sounded like one loud voice. The power of it filled me. Even though I knew this was a memory, I could feel my own Drak blood calling to them.

“…who seeks to change the magic. Someone who seeks to kill the magic.”

As the Drak spoke, the fire in the vision was joined by the faint sounds of screaming, the image within the pillar changing to running feet, explosions, and above all, Edmund’s laugh.

“He seeks to kill the magic for his own personal gain. We see him as he fights, as he sheds the blood of us, as he sheds the blood of others. We see him as he stops the reign of magic, as he stops the time of ours.”

As the Drak spoke, more sights of the early destruction caused by Edmund flashed through the water. The screams of children and families rang out around us as the flashes of misery continued. I cringed away from them all, I had seen enough of what Edmund was capable of in my own life.

“Is this now?” Ilyan asked, his voice raised above the constant noise that filled the chamber.

“The time is now, My Lord,” The Drak said together. “You alone will be brave enough to fight him. Where others will lose their lives, you will prevail.”

More sights flashed before us as the Drak continued to mumble. Ilyan and I looked at the pillar as images of him fighting against unknown foes were replaced by his stripped body strung up on a tree as he was beaten, and then returning to a sight of Ilyan and his strength. I looked to Ilyan curiously, surprised to see his shoulders squared and jaw set, almost as if he was ready to plunge into battle at any moment.