Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2)(99)

A few steps into the house, I tripped on broken bits of carpet that had been pulled up, burned away, or maybe eaten by some form of rodent. I caught myself, picking my feet up in my run and quickening my pace. Without thinking about it I had sped through the house, taking the path I had traveled almost every day of my life until last May, the path that would take me to Ryland’s room.

My heart thumped loudly as something told me to stop, my breath catching at the overwhelming sensation. I stopped dead, clutching my shoulder, hoping to find Ilyan’s warmth inside of me but still finding nothing. I kept my hand there as I thought through what I was doing, what I was going to do, something unsettling deep in my gut telling me to hide.

I had gone right to where Cail would expect me to go, into what I could only assume to be a trap. I needed to figure out what to do before I came face to face with him.

I stopped before opening the door to Ryland’s hall and instead sunk into what I knew would be a supply closet. Cail had given me a ten minute head start, surely five of that had already past. I had five extra minutes to hide or five minutes to find my way out. That was, if Cail chose to wait the full ten, which I doubted.

I closed the door to the closet behind me as softly as I could. I would know in a few minutes if Cail would come right here in his attempt to track me down or if he would begin his search elsewhere. It all came down to how well he knew me.

I needed to be smart about how I handled this, the faster I got out of here the better. But without being able to use magic to defend myself, I was limited as to what I could do and how fast I could leave. If it was an option, I would blast right through the man blocking my exit, but Ilyan was lying right next to me. The risk of killing him was too great.

My eyes trained on the dim light that was filtering in through the crease in the door. I tried to keep my mind off of the scurrying feet and other noises that were filling the small room.

I had only waited a minute before heavy footfalls filled the air, the impact of them rattling bins and boxes of who knows what in my hiding space. The sound grew louder as Cail ran down the hall, tracing my exact steps. I slunk away from the door, holding my breath in terror that he would find me. My back hit against a shelf, causing moldy towels and mouse feces to fall over my head. My mouth opened in expectation of a scream, but I shoved my fist heavily into my mouth, desperate to keep myself quiet.

If I was going to fight, I needed surprise on my side.

I heard his footsteps stop, and I knew I had made too much noise. As quietly as I could, I shoved myself into a corner, placing my body as much behind one of the large shelving units as possible. I cringed as my foot stepped on something soft, closing my eyes as I shut my mind off, not wanting to think about what it could be.

As soon as I had moved myself into the corner the door flew open, my body flattening even further against the soft, damp wall. I hoped that I was back enough that he wouldn’t see me. The light from the open door caught the eyes of more than a dozen large rats, each lifting their head toward the light in expectation.

The light illuminated the stacks of molding towels, mildewed sheets were dotted with feces, and cleaning supplies rusted through their containers leaving glistening patches of dried chemicals underneath them. Everything lit up dimly as Cail stood with the door open, his breath flowing through the room in silent puffs.

I kept my breath trapped inside me, focusing on the random objects around me so as not to think about the pain that was beginning to seep through my chest. My eyes widened when I saw the long, rusty length of pipe hidden in the piles of rot.

I kept my eyes on the pipe as I listened to Cail’s breathing, trying to ignore the earsplitting pressure from my lungs. My mind screamed at me for air, and I screamed back that he would kill me.

The door slowly closed, the sound of the hinge grinding through my brain and making the movement feel even slower. I waited to breathe, but his footsteps did not retreat. He was standing right on the other side of the door waiting for me. He knew I was in here.

Cail was playing his game.

Everything inside of me was begging for air. I took a step forward, my feet soft against the floor. I reached out and wrapped my hands around the pipe, the metal cold and slimy underneath my fingers. I gripped it firmly, moving it up like a bat as I surged my magic through it. If I couldn’t use my ability as a weapon against him, then I would use it to increase the power of a weapon.

I closed my eyes. Please don’t let Ilyan still be next to me. Please don’t let this actually move through into the real world.

My breath released as I swung the pipe forward, aiming it where Cail would be standing on the other side of the door. My magic filled the metal, making it grow red as it prepared to explode through the door and hopefully Cail.

I saw the shadow of Cail’s feet shift as the pipe made contact with the door, the rotted wood falling away from the impact. I had expected to hit Cail, but instead the pipe sliced through empty air, my eyes wide in confusion before a long fingered hand wrapped around the pipe. With one pull, the hand yanked the pipe through the door, my body following as I futilely held on.

I stumbled through the shards of wood, my feet barely keeping me upright before the hand moved from the pipe to my arm, the grip digging into my skin as Cail pulled me against him.

“Joclyn, Joclyn, Joclyn. You are going to make this far too fun, aren’t you?” I cringed away from Cail’s brittle breath in my nostrils.

“I wouldn’t call this fun, but if that’s the word you choose...” I gritted my teeth and moved closer to him, hoping to catch him off guard.