Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(76)

“Do you suppose,” I began, careful to keep my voice level and innocent, I didn’t need a commanding tone to set Dramin on his guard, “myslíte si, ?e we could give her another sight, she might wake? We could pour the water over my skin first.”

I cringed internally as I spoke, the pain from my last burn still strong in my veins. Most of the time it was just a dull hum of an ache, but sometimes it would flare up in agony. When I had been given the sight about Joclyn eight hundred years ago, I had experienced the painful surges of the Black Water for centuries; shadows of the pain still plagued me when something would rub against the scars, namely fabric. There was no reason to expect anything less this time around. I was mad to even suggest it.

“I’m not sure what that much Black Water inside of anyone other than a Drak would do,” Dramin said simply, but his words set me on high alert.

“Uvnit??” My voice must have sounded much deeper than I thought because Dramin chuckled, his dark green eyes and youthful face turning toward me.

“Yes, Ilyan, inside. Why do you think it still burns? It will burn until your magic has changed it enough to let it flow comfortably through your veins. But even then, it is still Black Water. It’s just more you than Imdalind at that point.”

I stared at him wide eyed. I had never heard this before. I was raised to be King, raised with all the knowledge of our kind so as to be able to lead them. But this? I had never heard this before.

“I just entrusted you with our only secret, Ilyan. You better keep it that way.” Dramin smiled at me, but it was sad, his eyes were shaded by something... Regret? I couldn’t see Dramin ever regretting anything, but then, he had just released a secret the Drak had seen fit to keep from everyone since the beginning of time.

“So what does that mean for me?” I asked, my eyes narrowing at him. Dramin only laughed at me, his usual joyful timber coming back into his voice.

“You have had Black Water flowing through your veins for eight hundred years and now you worry? Nebojte se,” he said as he patted my hand in a grandfatherly way, an action that did not match his appearance. “You will be fine. All I said was that I did not know what would happen. If there was a threat of an additional head sprouting on your shoulders, we would have never consented to give you, or anyone else, access to the sight.”

He laughed and I felt everything relax inside of me. He was right. I had feared the possibility of a greater ability. I did not need more power. I already feared the strength of the magic that flowed through my veins.

“Well,” Dramin began before draining the last of his mug, “I’ll go get Joclyn ready, come to her after you finish with Thom.”

“Thom?” I questioned, not understanding.

Dramin nodded once before standing, the sound of Thom’s yells reaching my ears as he did so.

“Ilyan!” The excited yell of Thom’s voice echoed around the stone hallways before reaching the kitchen.

“I guess I’ll go see what he wants, shall I?” I laughed alongside Dramin as we both left the kitchen, Dramin leaving to go toward my suite, where Joclyn slept, and I moved toward Thom’s frantic yells.

Thom’s voice ricocheted around the stone hallways. To anyone else, the bounce of his voice would have made it impossible to know where he was, but I could sense his magic. His deep earth energy was strong with excitement as he moved closer to me, the excitement mixing with panic the closer he got.

I had almost reached him when his odd mix of emotions hit me hard, setting me on high alert, and I moved faster. Curiosity and panic mingled inside of me with each step.

Thom turned the corner at a dead heat, his feet sliding as he caught sight of me. His face was wide and alert in excitement, but I could hear the rapid rate of his breath in my ears, the pace too quick to be purely excited. My curiosity left as fear took its place, a million possibilities leapt to mind, but deep down I knew – they were attacking. My heart pulsed once in desperation, begging me to simply take Joclyn and fly away – to save her. The thought was only a breeze from a bird’s wing before it was gone, before inheritance and responsibility took its place.

We said nothing to each other; I just picked up my pace, and followed him as he turned back the way he had come. His short legs moved fast as he ran, his magic pulsing through him as he quickened his pace. It wasn’t until he turned toward the large garden on the west side of the chapel that the fear in me shifted. The camps were arranged on the north side. Had we missed something? Something new, bigger?

Everything thumped in time with my footsteps, my heart beating in my ears and my breath moving in time with my steps. Without thinking about it, I moved my magic to check on Joclyn, shielding her as much as I dared.

We turned one more corner before Thom stopped, my feet halting right behind him before I collided with him.

This was not what I had expected, it was worse.

Ovailia stood in the middle of the hall we ran through, her long blonde hair down to her waist and smug smile in place, as if she expected me to praise her for a job well done. But, it wasn’t a job well done. It was a nightmare.

Ryland stood right next to her. Stood. His eyes were bright blue. His hair was damp with sweat, making the dark curls he got from our father longer than usual. He looked at me with understanding, with knowledge, and with eager anticipation. He was awake, and he remembered me.

“Where is Joclyn?” Ryland’s voice was eager, panicked. I could feel his need and longing as it settled deeply into his voice.