Eyes of Ember (Imdalind Series #2) (4 page)

I stood in the middle of the space and spun around. I was surrounded by thousands of crude drawing
s that covered the walls and floor in a rainbow of color. What once had been an undefined space was now enclosed by four walls. There were no windows or doors, so someone had taken the liberty to draw them in.

“Joclyn?” I
spun around at the small voice to see Ryland standing in the middle of the room. His small five year old frame seemed to be glowing as I faced him, his blue eyes shining at seeing me there. Ryland as I knew him, as I was bound to him, was not this boy. He was not this age. This boy was only a subconscious projection, the last of the memories that his Father had left him with.

“You came back!” He squealed and barreled into my legs,
almost knocking me over onto the hard ground. He hugged me tightly, chalk and crayon dust wiping off onto my pants. I leaned down and ruffled his shaggy black curls.

“I take it you missed me then?” I asked softly.

“Of course I did! You were gone so long I thought I would be alone forever.”

“You ha
ven’t left?” I asked as Ryland enthusiastically shook his head in answer. I arched my brow in confusion, that didn’t make sense. Ryland had always left before. He had left me alone in our space a number of times, and yet this time he was trapped.

“Nope, so I drew you a gift!” He motioned around him, his wide smile returning. “Do you like it?”
He spun his fingers, and a bright red crayon appeared in-between them.

“You drew all this, for me?” Ryland’s face lit up at my response.

“I even drew a really, really special one for you. Do you want to see?”

“
Umm... yeah.” I smiled at him and he skipped away, excited to be showing me one of his many masterpieces.

I followed him until he stopped near a wide expanse of blue I assumed to be a swimming pool.

“What is it, Ry?” I asked, coming to stand next to him and still not quite sure which of the surrounding images I should be looking at.

“It’s you,” he said quietly.

I followed his line of sight to a crayon drawing that was obviously meant to be life size. The portrait Ryland had drawn was of me, long dark hair, big eyes that were actually crude sketches of diamonds, and stick hands and legs.

The figure wore a purple robe and had a pink crown on her head. I wanted to laugh, but instead I smiled, feeling exceptionally happy.

I kneeled down next to him, wrapping my arms around his tiny shoulders.

“You drew this for me?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“It’s beautiful, Ry. Thank you.”

“You like it?” he asked, his little voice bursting with pride. I squeezed him against me, his frame so small against mine. I was overcome by a memory of Ryland, the way he should be: large, older than me, muscles, and scars.

“I love it.” I
said.

“Good! Now, you can draw one of me.” He pushed a blue crayon into my hand and struck a pose in expectation.

“Actually,” I said, feeling guilty as Ryland’s face fell. “I came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” he asked, and my face fell more.

“Yeah, I may not come back. I’m not sure. I’m... I’m very sick. My friend is trying to help me, but I am not sure it is going to work... I wanted to say goodbye, in case.” I felt the tears come and I cursed silently, I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be weak anymore.

“You don’t look sick,” Ryland said.

“Not here, but where I come from I am very sick.”

Ryland screwed up his face like he didn’t believe me, but then seemed to think better of it. His face brightened a bit, but I could tell his smile was forced. I felt bad leaving him here alone. But, I didn’t know
if I would come back. I was quite literally lying in Ilyan’s arms as he kept me alive long enough to say goodbye.

“You’ll be back,” Ryland said. “I know you will.”

“I hope you are right, Ry.” I ran my fingers through his curls, the way I always used to and he smiled a bit.

I couldn’t bring myself to say any
more. I turned away from him and walked determinedly to a black door that was set into the endless back space. I wasn’t sure if it was the right way to exit, before I had always been forced out, but the door seemed right, so I grabbed the knob.

“Goodbye, Jossy
,” Ryland whispered, using a nickname I hadn’t heard since I was six.

“Goodbye, Ry,”
I whispered softly to myself, not daring to turn back to face him again. I bit my lip and turned the knob, grateful when my eyes opened to Ilyan’s worried face leaning over me.

I could tell right away that something was
off; Ilyan’s face was relieved but also... disappointed. And then, I felt it; the strong buzzing under my skin. I could feel my perfectly healed body, the energy, the power. I hadn’t felt this strong since I flew into the LaRue mansion.

I sat up,
sending blankets tumbling around me. Nothing hurt. My magic had restored itself and in turn healed my body. I stared at my hand numbly; I was going to be okay. I could have danced and sang, but everything in me was frozen in shocked relief.  I stood and spun to face Ilyan, his face as shocked as I felt.

“It healed me.”
I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question. I was awed. I still couldn’t believe it. Relief washed down my spine and I exhaled shakily.

M
inutes ago I had been accepting my death. But now, I was healed. I fought the urge to call Wyn and scream into the telephone receiver about what had happened, or storm out the door right now to track down Edmund. Instead I stared at my hand, disbelief at the tingling warmth that now occupied me taking over. I looked at my hand that had held my liquid magic not long before, the slime had dried into a film that coated my palm, but otherwise, nothing remained.

“Did you know it woul
d do that?” I asked.

“I can honestly say I had no idea. I
had assumed the bond was broken. But, to have a connection strong enough for it to repair the bond within a Tȍuha… I didn’t think that was possible.”

My skin prickled and pulsed as I flexed
my fingers and toes. I had been lying down for the last week, mourning, and pining, and dying. I had almost given up hope of seeking my revenge on Edmund. I had tried to find comfort in the possibility of seeing Ryland in whatever life was after this. But now, I could find him, fight him. Now Ryland’s sacrifice could be worth something. I smiled brighter and threw myself at Ilyan, wrapping my hands around his neck only to get a face full of hair.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Slowly, his arms came around to encompass me.

“Of course, this means Ryland can track you easily now.” Ilyan had spoken offhand, but the few words were enough to shatter my celebration.

“What do you mean?”
I untangled myself from Ilyan to stand in front of him.

“If your bond is strong enough to reseal your magic during a
Tȍuha, then it is strong enough to track you over large distances. If he can do that, I do not know where, if any place, you would be safe. I can shield you as long we stay together and in one place, but for now, it limits you to the interior of this apartment.”

My jaw dropped, all
my hopes of a celebration of good health dashed. Part of me wanted to yell at Ilyan for spoiling my joy, but he still had that devastated look on his face.

“So,
are we trapped here?” I asked, finally able to process all that Ilyan was saying.

“Until I know how far he can track you
. And until you are strong enough to fight him if he does.” I couldn’t help but notice that Ilyan’s jaw was a hard line. He didn’t seem to be celebrating my miraculous recovery at all. It worried me.

“Which will be
how long?” I asked, my frustration rising.

“I do not know, Joclyn. Perhaps a year, maybe more.”

Four

I
could hear the feet behind me; slow, steady, loud.

Edmund.

I turned a corner in the dilapidated house and squished myself against the burnt wainscoting, knowing full well it would not hide me, and perhaps only allow me to be caught faster.

I dreaded being
caught; I dreaded the pain I would feel, the terror that would encompass me. But I also relished the pain. It was the only way I could be released from the nightmares that had haunted me every night for months.

They were always different, although the general theme of them stayed the same
. Cail would chase me from the forest to the house where I would die at the hands of Edmund, Ryland, Timothy, or Cail.

I felt
a heavy thud in my chest as the sound of the shoes grew louder, Edmund’s gait easily decipherable to me now.

Thump, w
hack, thump.

I pushed myself into the wall as he came around the corner, Cail following him like an injured dog.

I pushed my hands toward him, sending a stream of light, but the attack bounced off of him, causing him to smile more. I pressed myself against the wall, eyes wide as I sought escape, but knowing it was useless.

“Ah! There you are!” Edmund
said joyfully like an old grandfather welcoming home a prodigal son, but it held no relief for me. My spine froze in terror and I hesitated a moment too long, allowing Cail to come up beside me and pin me to the wall.

I cringed away from the contact, away from what was coming, but it was no use
. I could already hear the footsteps approaching.

A soft step on the left, a slight drag on the right. My mind must have bee
n paying much more attention than I gave it credit for to have pulled this little detail of Ryland into my nightly terrors.

“We were worried you didn’t want to play,” Edmund continued lightly
, as if I wasn’t being restrained. “We were worried we would have to chase you down all night.”

Edmund smiled and leaned toward me, I recoiled a
way from him automatically. With nowhere to go, I turned my head into the wall. A large lump blocking my throat at seeing Ryland slinking toward me, his eyes black, his beautiful face covered in a sheen of sweat.

“We didn’t want
to chase you down, did we Cail?” I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Ryland as Edmund spoke. I stared at him as I tried to control the beating of my heart, the frantic mixture of panic and need making me dizzy.

“No
, Master,” Cail’s voice was right in my ear, the putrid smell of his breath washing over me.

“Hold her,” Edmund instructed and Cail complied quickly.

I had yet to understand the relationship my subconscious had created between Edmund and Cail. Edmund used him as a puppet, and every time Cail would obey without question. Sometimes his face would be screwed up in maniacal joy at what he was asked to do, and other times I could have sworn he was disgusted by it. It was as if my mind didn’t know what to do with him.

I gasped at the pressure Cail put me under as I turned toward Edmund
. Ryland now stood in between us, Edmund’s hand resting lightly on his son’s shoulder. It was the same image that had been burned into my head right before Ilyan flew me away from them.

Edmund smiled at the panic on my face, his joy at seeing my torture evident. I heard Cail
laugh in my ear as he prepared for his part in some sort of performance.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Running away were we?” Ryland’s light voice was laced with
a venom I had grown used to hearing in these dreams, whether I liked it or not. I began to fight against Cail’s restraint, my hands growing warm against him. It was no use, he ignored the attack and his hold only grew.

“What should I do with her, Father?”

Ryland’s eyes never left mine as he smiled, Edmund’s wicked grin joining his in perfect synchronization.

This was the only part of the dream I couldn’t bat away, the only part I couldn’t blame on my subconscious. I couldn’t ignore it because the pain was real. It never followed me as I woke, but I couldn’t shake all the pain that Ryland caused me. I couldn’t wipe it from my mind.

“Pull her through.”

It was a command I had never heard before and so I
cried out in anticipation, not knowing what was to come. I felt Ryland’s hand make contact with my stomach for a moment before the pain hit and the contact changed to something deeper. My stomach burned as his hand began to move through me, pulling my insides apart. I screamed louder.

I
was still screaming as the dream faded away and the grey room that had been my prison for the last three months drifted into view. The comforter shifted as Ilyan came to my rescue. He moved to lay behind me and pulled me against his bare chest, his magic flowing into me and calming my frayed nerves. His arms were tight, pulling me against him, caressing the skin on my arms lightly. My screaming died down, but the tears remained. They flowed freely down my cheeks and onto the pillowcase, wetting a spot so soaked every night that it was stained with the salt water from my tears. It was the only time I cried anymore, the only time my emotions were raw enough to let the dratted things escape.

“
Shhh… Silnỳ, it’s okay. To je v pořádku.”

I leaned into Ilyan as he began to sing
his song, the words whispered gently in my ear. As Ilyan sang, I sang with him, my voice shaky against my tears, the Czech words flowing roughly off of my tongue.

“Hush now child. Be still, be calm. The world will change at the new dawn. And when it does, you will see how you and I were meant to be.”

I sang it over and over again, long after Ilyan had fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped around me.

I wasn’t going to get any more sleep tonight. Ilyan’s
arm around me had become a dead weight over my side. I wiggled a bit, the close contact making my nerves jump around.

I
lifted his arm off me and slid from the bed and onto the floor, my knees coming up to press against my chest. I pulled my black hoodie over my knees, trapping the warmth against my body. I sat like that, fuzzy pink socks poking out, my eyes focused on the carpet that once held the dark stain of my rotten magic.

Eve
r since I survived the attack of my own magic on my body three months ago, I had been confined to the claustrophobic depths of the studio apartment I shared with Ilyan. I knew it was the only way to keep my magic hidden from Ryland and his father, but that didn’t help the ‘prisoner for life’ vibe it gave me. I was restrained inside of this space, Ilyan’s strong immovable shield around me at all times.

I had been t
rapped here with nothing to do but perfect, expand, and stretch my magic; I had thrown myself into preparing to fight, to keep myself alive for when I came face to face with Edmund. Even though I had such a strong desire to focus on, I still felt like I was dying inside; trapped between the tiny apartment of my reality and the undefined space that Ryland and I shared within our Tȍuha.

I couldn’t survive for very long without renewing my connection to
Ryland through the Tȍuha. We found that out the hard way. More than a day and my body began to ache, my energy exhausted.

I reached down
into my hoodie to pull out the ruby necklace Ryland had given me, knowing I needed to go visit him. As I pulled the necklace free, my finger rubbed against the scar that rested over my heart, the skin raised and jagged.

I hated that scar as
much as I hated the mark below my ear, each one a painful reminder of what I had lost. But sadly, I could handle my mark better. The mark had just appeared there, it hadn’t been carved into my skin by someone I loved. Whether or not he was in his right mind at the time, it was still Ryland’s body, his face, that I saw hurt me. I sighed and moved my hand away, my fingers shaking slightly as I looked down at the glistening ruby in my hands. It had continued to be as dead as the day I passed out over a plate of bacon, no warmth, no heartbeat, nothing. The stone remained quiet, even though I used the connection every day.

Ilyan was sure that
Edmund was not using the necklace to hinder the connection between us, but he had still taught me to place a weak shield in between the stone and myself.

I
filled the necklace, my only connection to Ryland, with my magic. My body grew warm and filled me with the heat of Ryland’s power as his latent magic that lived inside of me awakened, the connection that allowed us to track each other. It was the same comforting warmth I had grown up with, the same feeling my body constantly craved. I wished I could feel the sensation all the time, but the magic wasn’t mine and Ryland was too far away. Besides, his magic was used for other purposes now. It was a miracle Edmund hadn’t been able to fully break the bond between us in the first place, so I would have to accept the fragments I was left with.

My magic pulsed and grew alongside Ryland’s
as I pushed more and more of it into the beautiful stone. Even though I loved the sensation Ryland’s magic gave me, even though I longed to see him, I still dreaded going into the Tȍuha. Every time I saw Ryland inside, it was the equivalent of seeing someone through glass, never being able to truly touch them. Never knowing if you would ever be able to break the glass and get them back. It was painful, but I had to go. If I didn’t my body would waste away to nothing again.

M
y eyes closed and I wandered into the colorful world that lived beyond my eyelids. I had spent every morning of the last few months coming in here and coloring with Ryland, sharing our dreams, talking about stories and making up our own.

It was a plac
e where we created new memories while our old ones lay forgotten.

Well, at least his did.

“Jossy!” I turned at his voice, a wide smile spreading across my face at his appearance. Ry bolted across the space toward me, running headlong into me so that we both fell backwards onto the hard floor.

Ryland sat up from where we landed, his pointy elbows digging into my stomach. He smiled his large grin that I loved so much, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Hey Ry, did you miss me?” I asked, pushing his long black curls out of his eyes.

“You know I did, Jossy, you’re so funny.” He chuckled and rolled off of me.

“Funny ha ha, or funny hee hee?”

“Defin
itely hee hee.” he said, as he continued to giggle.

“You sure about that?”
I asked, poking him in the ribs.

He could hear the mischief in my voice so he jumped up and away from me before I could grab and tickle him.

“Don’t, Jossy,” Ryland squealed.

“Why not?” I asked, moving up on all fours in an attempt to look like I was going to lunge at him.

“Because if you do, I can’t show you my new drawing,”

“A new one?” I asked,
my curiosity peaking.

For some reason Ryland had never been able to leave our shared space, not since his memory was erased
. So he spent all of his time coloring new masterpieces to fill the white void. Every time I came he had a new drawing to share or a new story that he wanted to tell me.

He grabbed my hand and towed me behind him
toward the swimming pool. I willingly followed; his joy at sharing his new creation infectious.