Burnt Devotion (9 page)

To destroy him.

Kill.

Kill.

“Kill!”

I had barely been able to move more than a few feet before everything froze. The magic that had been streaming away from me slammed into a brick wall, recoiling painfully back into me as my body flew back to where it had started. My back thumped into the wall as Ilyan’s magic held me in place, a thick shield moving around me, yet whether to protect me from myself or him from me, I wasn’t sure.

Judging by the rage that lined Ilyan’s face, I became positive it was a bit of both. Unlike any time before, I was grateful for it.

I was also scared.

Everyone had heard of Ilyan’s temper. He was known for it. What was more, although I had seen it before when I had helped him to escape my father, to have it directed at me was another story. Terrifying was not a strong enough word.

What are you waiting for?

You weakling, attack him.

Kill him.

I can’t.

He’s right there.

Do it now.

Kill!

The look in his eyes silenced the voice to a hum, the boil in my blood one of ice and fear, even though I still felt the need to attack and fight. It was one of trepidation, and the knowledge that he would destroy me with nothing more than a snap was clear.

With that knowledge, however, I couldn’t seem to keep the monster inside of me completely calmed.

It still exploded out of me.

Do it now!

“You!” I roared, and his magic flared as it pressed into me, plastering me against the wall I had moved from. I stayed there, restricted by his power as I snarled like the wild animal Cail had turned me into, my eyes wide while I tried to figure out a way to attack him.

“Yes.” He moved toward me slowly, his eyes looking more like flames than the blue we had all inherited. I knew the look was meant in warning. I could feel it in the way he stalked me, the way his magic pressed against me so violently it was nearly impossible to force in breath.

I should have taken the warning.

If only my mind could see past it.

He’s right there.

Now is your chance.

I can’t move.

You can break this barrier.

You weakling! Kill him!

Kill him!

Kill!

“Let me kill you!” The words ruptured as my magic did, the powerful spark pressing on the barrier Ilyan had shrouded me with enough that my body slid down the stone, sagging into a broken pile. I was only barely able to recover before his magic snapped back against me like a rubber band, pressing me into the wall once again.

“Like you tried to kill Joclyn? Like she tried to kill you?” Treating me like the wild animal I was, his steps were slow and calculated as he moved closer.

She did!

You should have killed her first!

I know. I can fix that now.

Kill him!

All they do is lie to you!

Everything he says is a lie.

Don’t let him lie to you!

“You lied to me!” It was a roar to match the creature that approached, but nothing could ever match Ilyan’s anger. I was a fool to try.

I knew it, yet I could not stop it.

“I lied?”

He’s still lying!

“You said I could have her, that you were keeping her safe. But she’s not safe. She’s broken. She’s an ugly Drak, and she doesn’t love me anymore!” Sain flinched out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t care. It irritated me how precisely he followed his sight as much as the knowledge that Jos was just like him did. I had always been taught that Draks were nothing other than dirty servants. Slaves. It was that imbedded knowledge that was leaking out of me now. “You did that!”

“I did that? I made her want to kill you?” He was so close now that I could feel the heat of his magic against my skin, the burning power of it scalding.

Still, like the child I was, the fool I had been raised to be, I did not back down.

The voice wouldn’t let me.

Don’t let him get away with this.

Fight him.

I will.

“You lied to me!” I yelled again, desperately hoping to agitate him. I needed to get him drop his guard enough that I could break free from his hold and destroy him now before it was too late.

“I do not lie!” he roared, his magic shifting with the outburst, although it was still not enough to let me break through. “I kept her safe, but I could not stop him from destroying her. I could not stop her from being tortured and breaking your bond. I did everything I could, but sometimes, things do not fall the way we plan.”

“You liar!” It was a childish outburst, yet I couldn’t stop it. The words were rousted from deep inside my broken mind, fueled by my father’s voice as it echoed within me.

“Whatever our father has done to you—to both of you—it is deeply rooted in your souls. I am worried that we may never be able to reverse it.” His voice rumbled, even with the regret behind it, the desire to help that I had always known from him so thick it made me uncomfortable. It only fueled my anger more.

“You are saying that because you want her for yourself. Because you love her!”

“I do love her!” The words were ice and flame, and while they should have ignited the monster that Cail had implanted inside of me, they didn’t. It was like a cold water bath to hear the truth, even more so to hear the emotion behind it that Cail had almost missed. To hear the love.

“I have loved her for eight hundred years. Since the sight was first given that showed her to me, since the first time our magic bridged the gap of time and let me hold her in my arms, I have loved her. Her. Her laugh, her smile, her wit. I love the way her eyes sparkle when she plans a trick and the way she laughs to herself when she thinks of something funny. I love the way she sleeps curled into herself. I love her. And, because I love her, I would give her the choice. I would let her return to you if that’s what she wished.

“But all you two wish to do is kill each other. She is so terrified of you she cannot form complete sentences, and you cannot hear of her without the voice in your head exploding to life. Do not play me, Ryland Krul. I know what that look in your eyes means. I have seen it in her before.”

More lies.

No. These are different.

His rant sucked all the anger from the room, the powerful pressure of his magic ebbing from me as he paced before me, and the fire in his eyes extinguished to a manageable passion that made me feel somehow insignificant to the emotion they held.

I watched him pace, knowing it was my chance to act, to attack, and yet … I could not move.

Kill him. Stop waiting.

I barely heard him.

“You love her?” My voice was my own, something that hadn’t happened in who knew how long. I could not bask in the small accomplishment, though. I could not even hope to retain it. I could already hear my father’s screams. I could already feel the pain pulling at my chest as the monster reawakened.

“Yes,” he whispered as he turned back to face me. “More than anything. Don’t you?”

The question was honest and rooted in a deep caring that I wasn’t sure I had ever witnessed in my life. The simple question kept me sane somehow. The way my brother sat before me, waiting for my answer, kept the incessant voice calm.

Kept
me
calm.

“I thought I did,” I finally said, grateful when his magic began to loosen, my tense muscles relaxing. “But now I am not too sure. Now everything seems broken. And I know she doesn’t love me. Everything has been shattered.”

I slid down the wall to sit before him, fully aware that, despite the fact that his magic was no longer pressed against me, it was still there, a protective barrier between us, keeping me restrained. Keeping both of us safe. I watched the shimmer in the air before I turned back to him, grateful to see much of his fire had left, though I could tell it was still there, right under the surface.

“Edmund did that.”

I could only nod.

“Our father does more than he should. But his meddling was foreseen by sight long before he ever dreamed of playing his little game of hearts and souls.”

He’s lying.

Can’t you see his lies?

Stop playing.

Kill him.

I twitched at the voice, pushing it out of my mind as I stared at my brother and let his words play on repeat in my mind.

It was an interesting way to put it—a game of heart and souls—but I guess, in a way, that was exactly what it was. My heart, my soul, had been shattered then bound in a knife like so many others. I wondered if Joclyn’s soul was locked inside the blade, as well.

That was his game.

He who holds the blade, holds the key, much like Sain and his fountain of magic.

My eyes darted to Sain at the thought. His green eyes were hooded with some secret that I knew at once he would never divulge.

It was a look I had seen before.

He had seen something.

I wanted to ask, but something told me that, even if he chose to share this particular sight with me, he wouldn’t, not with Ilyan here. Especially not after what I had said about his kind moments before.

I exhaled shakily as Ilyan moved closer to me, his shield flexing and moving. While I was still completely shrouded, he was able to move toward me with his hand extended out in a show of support and kindness.

As my brother.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Ryland. I am sorry for your pain and anguish.”

“So am I.” I took his hand slowly, fully aware his powerful shield was between us, preventing any and all skin contact. I knew it was needed, but still, the lack of trust hurt. Even though I had escaped that dungeon, even though I was fighting the voice, I was still a prisoner. I probably always would be.

“I wish I could take it all away, but if I have learned anything in my long life, it is that we are all only a piece of a bigger puzzle, and each piece is placed where it is for a reason. I believe soon that reason will be made clear to us.”

“Because of Jo … Joclyn?” I could barely get her name out without slamming my head against the wall in agony. He wanted me to, anyway.

Kill him!

Kill them all!

They hurt you!

They lied to you.

No.

“Yes.”

“My daughter has a bigger part to play than even she realizes at this point, than any of you do,” Sain said as he looked at Ilyan.

Ilyan pulled his hand away from mine as he met the old man’s gaze. He looked at him, his brow furrowed as he contemplated what to say, before turning back to me. Whatever beast had been turning the gears in his head was forgotten.

“You are my brother, Ryland. And my promise to help you still stands. What can I do to make you well?” He spoke in Czech, the familiarity of the language almost enough to incite fear, but where my father had always used it in retribution, in hatred, Ilyan used it honesty, the familiar words sounding like any other to me. “What can I do to help you?”

I stared at him, trying to decide what I could say, and most of all, if I could really trust him, despite the screaming that was moving through me.

I knew I could.

More than that, I knew what I needed. After all, I had said it before I had been so absorbed with getting Joclyn back, with making her “mine,” that I had forgotten the very basics of what I did need.

“I want to be myself again. I don’t want to hear our father’s voice in my head.”

“I can bind your heart as Thom told me Wyn did for you, but it will only be a crutch. Binding your memories will be stronger, but again, it may only set you back. You must fight the control our father has you under if you wish to be free completely.”

As I looked at him, the thought of the soul’s blade moved through me. While binding my heart sounded like a gift, the memory of the clear mind still fresh, I knew he was right. It would only cover the problem. I wanted to be free, though. Completely.

To do that, I would need my soul to be whole, exactly as Sain had said. I glanced at him, his eyes drifting from black to green as he stared into me, the intensity of his gaze making me sure he could see exactly what was on my mind.

I needed the blade.

I wasn’t sure if I should tell Ilyan that. Something about it made me feel like a cripple, like my father had done something more than I was willing to admit.

I bit my tongue and only nodded, unwilling to put voice to the fact that, all things considered, Ilyan probably already knew.

“Will you let me help you defeat him on your own? I know you are strong enough to face this.”

I looked at him as the voice repeated through me, the drum of the word growing in volume with each beat. Hearing it so loud, being swallowed by the thunder, made it hard to remember what I really wanted—if I wanted to be myself or if I wanted to kill Ilyan.