Scorched Treachery (20 page)

“He is my father, Cail. I know his strength. You do not seem to see mine.”

“Then you know about the Vilỳ?” Cail turned, his back against the window, blocking some of the light that was able to come in through the dingy bottle-glass window.

“The what?” I didn’t miss the confusion, the need in Ilyan’s voice. I had to hand it to my brother
; he played his cards well.

“Make me a deal, and I will tell you.”

The room was silent except for the clicking of Cail’s nails against the windowsill and the constricted breathing from Talon’s chest as he fought the desire to protect Ilyan from my brother. I half expected them to just disappear and leave us both hanging, but they didn’t.

“What deal?” Ilyan breathed out, his eyes narrowing.

“Protect my sister,” Cail said without hesitation, his finger nails still clicking against the wooden frame. “When the time comes, I will stop the zánik curse that my father has already begun infecting her with.”

I inhaled roughly, Cail had been holding back. No wonder he had been handed a death card. He knew far more than he had been letting me know.
Even Edmund had never used the zánik curse. That level of pain and suffering was reserved for the ultimate of traitors, which I guess I was.

“The zánik curse?” Ilyan asked, a wicked glow lighting u
p his face. “My, you
have
gotten yourself in some trouble, Wynifred.”

“If you take her now, he will kill her before even you will have a chance to stop it,” Cail said, fear lighting up his eyes even though his face was still hard. I wasn’t sure anyone else would have caught his panic, but I could see it. “But, let us walk into their trap, and I will bind the curse and take my father’s control from it. Then you can take her.”

“Why wait?” Ilyan asked, as he leaned toward Cail in an obvious attempt to establish authority.

“Now, Ilyan,” Cail taunted smoothly, “do you really want to give up a chance to attack your father? Besides, if we wait, I will not only be able to bind the curse inside of Wynifred, but I will also be able to siphon the curse through me using Edmund’s power. I may be able to curse him instead.”

Everyone eyed Cail curiously, my breathing increasing at what he was saying. I was sure my eyes looked ready to explode from my face. What was he saying; siphon the curse? That wouldn’t just kill Edmund; it would kill him as well.

“It will come at a cost,” Cail continued, ignoring my panicked intake of breath. “You will have to remove her from my care quickly.”

“What are you saying?” I gasped, my words lost in my panic, the hard edge that was always in my voice all but gone.

“I may lose my mind.”

To use so much magic that his mind would crack – I couldn’t let him take that risk. What’s more, if he failed then Edmund would live knowing that Cail had attempted to use his magic without permission. That alone was a risk I couldn’t allow him to take. The Štít was there for control; he had been warned about what would happen if he utilized it any other way.

“Cail, you can’t,” I pleaded, knowing he wouldn’t listen, even if he heard me.

“Don’t show your emotions, sister, it is incredibly unattractive,” Cail spat. I stepped back, my disgust still evident on my face. “Once my job is done, keep me from her. Then, on the day the curse fulfills itself, when Edmund has died and when my mind has returned to its own, then you will get me out.”

“Sounds fair enough,” Ilyan said at once, my gasp of surprise echoing around us.

“There is only one hitch,” Cail continued, finally stepping away from the window. “If I can only bind the curse, not send it into Edmund, and I die before my father, then the curse will be unbound and it will be unstoppable and Wynifred will die. To save her life, my father must die first.”

“You drive a hard
bargain,” Ilyan said with a smile, his hand dragging through his hair as he contemplated everything in front of him. The minutes dragged on as we waited. I tried to catch Cail’s eyes, to plead with him not to do this, but he avoided me, his focus only on Ilyan.

“I will agree to your request Cail, if you both consent to my terms. Cail will bind the curse, with a future promise of sanctuary, and Wynifred will give up her fire magic.”

“Deal,” Cail said at once, his hand extending in an attempt to seal the promise.

I could not move. Cail was risking everything for me, putting his life on the line in a crazy attempt to get me to Ilyan and hopefully into safety. I could do nothing more than return the favor, even if it would be years before he could redeem it. I would do anything to save my brother, just as he would obviously do anything to save me.

“Deal.”

“Tell me of the Vilỳs,” Ilyan said the instant the word was out of my mouth.

“Edmund has found a way to make a Vilỳ strengthen his magic,” Cail began, and everyone stiffened. Everyone knew that Edmund had captured the little things, but even I didn’t know what he was doing with them.

“There are cages of Vilỳ he hides underground, harvesting their poison in the hopes of someday creating a child more powerful th
an you. He plans to inject his next child with enough poison to either kill it or turn it into a weapon. He also keeps a Vilỳ by his bedside, letting him bite him every night, on his mark, in hopes of increasing his power.”

Everything washed over me, the onslaught of memories coming in such a rush I couldn’t help the wave of bile that
expelled itself. I felt my stomach empty itself, heard the dull splat of liquid against stone, and my vision swam, the cold prison coming back into focus.

I heard the two men exclaim, before Timothy laughed, his joy making the sound high pitched and girlish.

“Feel better?” Edmund asked, “Remember everything?”

I didn’t respond
. I just hung my head between my arms, the lack of muscle strength giving me reprieve.

“Now, tell me Cail’s secret. Why will he do anything to save you?” I just looked at him, not willing to give him the information, knowing deep down that soon I wouldn’t have another choice.

“Tell me what I can threaten your brother with, Wynifred.” I felt his fingers rest against my spine, his magic jerking into my spinal column as he moved to take the information by force.

“If Cail dies first, then I die. If Timothy dies first, the curse unbinds itself.” My voice was dead as Edmund forced it out of me.

“There now,” Edmund sneered, the smile wide on his face, “That wasn’t that hard, was it? Come along, Timothy. It looks like I have a job for you.”

He moved away from me then, the door swinging shut behind him with a clang before the shackles around my wrists vanished, sending me to the ground in a heap.

I
could not thank Ovailia for her foresight in adding modern bathrooms to the ancient chambers at Rioseco more than I did right now. The room was still steamy from the prolonged shower, the air heavy with the mist of the okouzlený bush. I breathed in the heavy flavor of the wood, savoring the way it relaxed my heart and cleared my lungs.

I had let the water run for much longer than was strictly necessary as I cut my hair back to the short cut that Joclyn had said she liked, letting the steam move out into the bedroom where Joclyn lay on the large soft bed. She looked so peaceful, and although I knew the magical properties of the bush would not wake her, I hoped they would calm her in the nightmare she was still restrained within.

Still she lay, unmoving, and calm. Thankfully, we’d had no more injuries in the past few hours since arriving at Rioseco. I still couldn’t believe we had arrived safely, my heart whole and unscathed. Magic like that had never been accomplished before, and to do so twice in such a short time… I had not expected to survive it. I did not look at this accomplishment as one to boast of. If anything, it only increased my ability to protect her.

Cleaned, cut, and shaven, I walked out of the bathroom of my large suite at Rioseco into the bedroom, the sight of Joclyn’s sleeping body welcoming me. She lay still
underneath the heavy white covers; the bright white looking out of place against the ancient stone walls. Generally, I preferred white. I preferred the serenity, the hope, and the reminder that you could always start again that it offered me. So many of my rooms were decorated with it, but here, in the ruins of the first Abbey I ever lived in, I could not cover the brick I had laid with my own hands with such a trivial thing as paint. These walls reminded me of starting over in their own way, and that was enough for me.

Joclyn’s clean hair fanned behind her like a dark stain of spilled ink against the white. My magic flared inside of her, moving to reach every corner of her body in an instant, the once powerful barrier now nowhere to be found.

Thankfully, her body was whole, but the absence of the barrier still worried me. It had been strong enough to keep me out of her when she was first trapped in the Tȍuha, only to fade the longer she stayed inside of it. Now, it had simply disappeared. I knew the absence meant something, but what it was I couldn’t place.

My father had found a way to work beyond my realm of thinking, his mind working faster than mine for once. Any other time I would be glad for the challenge. But
somehow, the brutal torture of a girl I loved, happening right in front of me, changed that. I didn’t like to lose, and Edmund had upped the stakes in this game.

I lay down next to her, letting my magic flow into her mind as I joined myself to her, hopeful that this time I might find something. I knew the hope was
slim, but I couldn’t stop it from coming unbidden to my mind.

I let my mind seep into hers;
the desperation, at once again finding nothing, gripping me to my very core. Her mind had still not returned; a path to retrieve it had not been found. I could still find no trace of where she could have disappeared to.

I had entered her soul, moved into her mind, reversed her magical line, healed her body, held her heart, and now the barrier had gone. The last thing I knew her to control.

She was a shell.

I had run out of ideas.

With all my training, all my power, this problem had stumped me.

We had one thing left, one thing we could try. Being at Rioseco had given us access to the mugs that could hold the Black Water, just as Thom had reminded us in the cave. As Joclyn’s only food source, the Black Water might possibly be the key to awakening her.

I held her to me, my mind still wandering inside of hers, my song filling her mind, my words lingering as they echoed through her soul and vibrated through the tender muscles of her heart. I left them there, within her, before withdrawing from within only to hold her to me, her body pressing up against me.

“Jos, my love,” I whispered to her, knowing it was no use. This was not like when I had been knocked unconscious by my overuse of magic. Her voice had called to me then, but I doubted mine could call to her now. There was nothing there to hear, not that I could find. But, I still couldn’t stop the hope.

“Whatever happens, please know that I will always hold you in my heart. I now know I was not the one to save you, as much as my heart longs to be. But I will protect you, until the one who can awaken you returns.”

I leaned forward and kissed her cheek, the warmth of her skin shooting sweetly through me in an electrical current tha
t caught my veins on fire. Before I could let my heart linger on my words, a soft knock filled the room, echoing off the stone walls.

Not a moment passed before Dramin walked in. As much as I hated the ritual bows and formal speeches, there were times when I missed the formalities my position usually accounted me, this was one of them. I had to remind myself that those luxuries were gone forever, as were my people.
My father had massacred the ones I had been chosen to lead. I was all alone now, the last of the Skȓíteks, save my sister. Even at that, we were only half-breeds of the once powerful race.

Dramin smiled as I stood to face him, a mug of Black Water balanced in his hands. I couldn’t ignore the banging in my chest at the possibilities feeding her might give us.

The water had awakened her true ability not too long ago; perhaps it was the key we needed to wake her up now.

“You ready for this?” Dramin asked, his dark green eyes looking at me over the mug.

I nodded once. Dramin needed someone to hold Joclyn still and upright. I had agreed without complaint, although it meant that I might get some of the poisonous water on my skin. The thought caused my muscles to tighten. I could still vividly remember the pain of the water as it lashed against my chest, the internal burning that plagued me for years afterwards. It was worth it, as this would be, if it was done for Joclyn’s sake.

We moved toward the large couch, Dramin setting the heavy mug on the ancient table that sat next to the upholstered
couch. I followed him, moving to shift Joclyn onto my lap where Dramin would need her.

“You are good man, Ilyan.”

I only nodded at him, unsure how to respond. His simple statement was loaded with the implications of both past and future. I let the ire wash over me, before arranging Joclyn on my lap, her head lolling against my chest as Dramin placed a towel beneath it. I only hoped the flimsy fabric would catch enough of the Water to prevent too much of an injury.

Dramin moved to the side of me, his jaw tight as he moved her head a bit. I held her head where Dramin had placed it, my skin warm where it made contact with hers.

“You can’t move, Ilyan, even if it burns you. You move, and it will only burn you more.” Dramin lifted the mug, and I cringed as the putrid smell of the deep brown fluid hit my nose. It smelled like rot, the heavy death smell of the body pits that had littered my home while the black plague ravaged Europe. The images of the time floated to mind, their suffering still fresh, even though the travesty had happened in my youth.

I closed my eyes against the imagery and held Joclyn’s body closer to me, my body tense as I held her still. Thom had suggested we just restrain her magically, but I had swatted the idea away
, wishing instead to be near her, wishing to help her physically. Now, I was second guessing my decision.

Dramin placed the mug against Joclyn’s lips, his thumb and forefinger pressing against her mouth to open it
slightly, the sag of her jaw making her look deathly and vacant. I looked away, not wanting to think of being that way, of being vacant. Gone.

I looked out the high stone archways that led to my wide balcony and to the misty Spanish countryside that lay beyond that. It all looked the same as when we had built this beautiful building. This place was like stepping back in time for me
, one of the only places that felt like home. I couldn’t deny the heady feeling from being here that was seeping into me. Of course, it didn’t hurt that so many of the images in the original sight took place within these very walls.

In the sig
ht given by Sain all those centuries ago, I had seen Joclyn battle powerful enemies. I had seen her bloodied and beaten, and I had seen her crying – tears streaming down her face before she kissed me. The images flashed before me now, and I could tell where each of them would occur, what corner of the ruins of the Abbey she would stand in - many of which were only a few steps away.

The beautiful images were stolen from me as the deep burning sensation of the Black Water shot across my arm. I called out, my voice loud and deep as I tried to keep my body still. I let my voice yell and swear, the rough Czech words bouncing off the stone, while keeping my body still as Dramin continued to work.

The burn moved deeper into me, the acidic fire burning into my blood stream where it ignited and moved all over my body in a matter of minutes. The pain was not as intense as I had remembered, but still it caused my muscles to tense as it passed them, the deep magic reacting with my blood. My magic tried to heal me, but it wasn’t fast enough to fight the burn that shot through my veins.

There was a reason few of my kind had ever sought council from the Drak, and now I was being reminded why. I continued to yell, my only outlet in the battle against my own
body that was desperate to move and flee the pain.

“H
...he will...willl t...tear usss ap...apa...apart.” The quiet, feminine stutter rocked through me. The hope that I felt filled me faster than the burning pain had. Dramin stepped away, the mug returning to the ancient table. Joclyn’s body twisted easily in my arms, falling down to my lap as limply as she had been before. Was she coming back?

Her eyes were open, the endless black depths seeing something neither Dramin nor I could see. The pain and fear in her voice was strong, and I hoped the timbre of her voice had more to do with the sight than whatever was happening where she was.

My fingers curled against her skin, desperate to pull her to me, but also afraid of missing her awakening or that the sharp movement would hinder whatever progress was being made here.

“If...if...
y...you w-w-wish to ssseeee th...the end. G...give m-me y...your heart.”

“Jos?” I whispered as her eyes closed, hoping she could hear me, hoping that she
would not return to her prison, but nothing happened. She stayed limp in my arms as her mind returned to the hell she was trapped in.

“He will tear us apart. If you wish to see the end, give me your heart.” I had almost forgotten Dramin was standing behind me
until he spoke.

I looked away from Joclyn at his voice, keeping my hands on her arms, not willing to be away from her, to lose contact.

“What do you think it means?”

I could only shake my head at him. It was obviously a sight as shown by the blackness of her eyes, and not the rambling nonsense that can happen while people dream.
This meant the words were meant to guide. So the question remained; who was to receive the guidance, and what did it mean?

My hands pulled away from her slowly, my eyes widening at the
large burn on my arm. My skin was raised in an angry red welt where the water had touched me. The water that could unlock her sight; the touch of the water against my flesh, one that would trigger it.

Dramin saw me looking at the welt on my arm, his inhalation confirming that my thoughts were headed in the right direction.

“It’s for you.” His voice was awed. The water had called her from a dark place, and my sacrifice had been the one to have done that.

“He will tear us apart. If you wish to see the end, give me your heart,” I repeated the words softly, the tender words sounding like a message rather than a warning on my tongue.

A message from her; from Joclyn.

She was still in there somewhere. I just needed to find her.