Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (34 page)

Ilyan’s lips twitched through the mirror before he kneeled down behind me, his fingers unwinding the long string from where he had concealed it around his ankle.

He held the mass of golden ribbon out to me as he stood. The ribbon tangled and crinkled in places, making it obvious that he had hidden it there for centuries. I knew at once why; it was the same as when he had cut his hair. He had been hiding something that he wasn’t sure he would ever have. Except he had it now.

I looked at it carefully, my fingers fluttering above the ribbon before I took it in my hand, the length still warm from being against his skin.

I said nothing as I grabbed his hand, my grip light as I led him to the bed, my eyes pleading with him before he sat, his hair growing in anticipation of what I was about to do.

I crawled over the bed to kneel behind him, the golden ribbon held tightly in my hand as I leaned against his back.

Don’t expect anything spectacular,
I whispered to him, my voice soft within his mind.

I expect only what you have to give me,
he returned. My heart soared at the sound of his voice in my head.

My fingers searched through the nest of gold until I found the end, the frayed edges soft like goose feathers. I pulled at the end until it came free, my chest quivering with nerves as I exhaled, willing my stress away.

Everything in me shook as I ran my fingers through his hair, knowing I would barely be able to manage a simple French braid if I was lucky.

I kept the ribbon tight in his silky hair as I weaved the strands together. The knuckles on my fingers shook as I tried to keep the tension right, knowing I was pulling too hard at times. Without the amazing skill that Ilyan had, my simple braid was done quickly, my fingers wrapping the golden length around his hair from the base of his neck, surrounding the braid as I tightened the string, praying that it would be enough to keep it in place.

I knew it wasn’t as good as it could have been; my shaking fingers had made it a little bit off center, but it was done. Sloppiness and all, it was probably the most treasured thing I had ever done.

I ran my fingers down the braid I had given him, my lips pressing against his lavender-scented hair as I sealed my gift to him. He reached back as my hand grazed over the skin of his neck, capturing my hand in his as he brought it to his lips.

“Thank you, my forever, for giving me this gift.”

I stared into his eyes, unsure how to answer; his breath was soft and warm as it ran over my hand. He kept it there, holding me in place as his thoughts and worries floated over me, his mind full of the image from the sight—the way he held my limp body, the way he howled to the sky. I flinched as the image burned into my mind, my heart tightening uncomfortably with the pressure.

“It will be all right, my love,” Ilyan whispered, his hand finally releasing mine from his grasp.

He opened his mouth to say something more when a loud, frantic knock sounded on the door, the surprising sound sending my heart into matching frantic palpitations that Ilyan’s magic soothed at once.

We both had stiffened at the sound, Ilyan’s eyes closing as mine lifted to the heavy door, another knock coming soon after the first.

“My Lord,” Sain’s voice came through the wood, causing my shoulders to knit together. “We are in need of your assistance.”

I looked away from the door to Ilyan who was now staring at me, his hands wrapping around mine as he pulled me toward him. His fingers traced over the skin of my neck, and I tensed, expecting his fingers to brush over my neck to touch my mark, but they never did. The softness of his fingers skimmed around the edges, careful not to touch it.

“Are you ready?” he asked, but I could only stare at him.

I knew I never would be. How do you walk into what is sure to be certain death? I don’t think there is a way to. Not without tears. Not without fear. I could feel both, but there was a difference. I was stronger than my panic. Stronger than the girl who had been thrown out the window; stronger than the girl who had run from Ryland.

I might not be able to defeat death, yet I could meet it head on.

I pushed the tears away and squared my jaw as I faced Ilyan, pulling the hood over my head as we walked to the door, making sure that the flowers in my hair were concealed, guarding the commitment I had bound myself in. I could feel the intricate braid through the fabric, felt his warmth within me, and I knew that Wyn had been right.

I had known there was only a day, and I would gladly make the choice all over again.

Because it was worth it.

Twenty-One

Ilyan led us toward the kitchen, one hand wrapped around mine and the other carrying the large duffle bag that I could only assume held all of his belongings. The hallway seemed darker as we walked; the old, grey stones looked black in the dim light of the hall that stretched on forever.

I tried to keep my breathing even in order to stop the fearful shake that seized through my torso, but it came anyway. The panic was just enough to keep me aware while I fought to keep the demons away.

The kitchen door was a tall slab of wood like all the others, but it might as well have been iron bars for how it felt against my soul. I let out one last shaking breath as we stopped before it, Ilyan’s grip on my hand tightening.

We just stood, staring at the door, knowing what it meant. Ilyan’s terrors ran through my head as I was sure mine did to him.

This was it.

Ilyan exhaled into the silence, his hand running over my back and pressing me into him, his lips pressing against mine in one hard, desperate line. Pressure and desire ran through me with that kiss, his need for me growing as I pressed myself into him.

I felt all his love in that instant, all his worry and sadness. I felt every promise and every vow. I felt it all in one tick of a clock before it was gone from me. His golden eyes devoured me as his fingers trailed over my jaw, lighting me on fire. He swallowed my soul with that look before he turned from me, his back straight as he towered before me with the long ribbon of gold hanging down his back and to the floor. His chest rose and fell as he stood. Once, twice he breathed, and then he opened the door and led us into the dimly-lit room.

I made my way into the room, the door shutting behind me with a loud snap that made my nerves jump.

The room was full of desperate whispers and the scraping of forks as the few who had to eat scarfed down the last of the food Ilyan had brought a few days before. Everyone was seated together at one of the large tables on the other side of the room. While Thom and Wyn had mostly cleared their plates, Ryland just sat between them with a plate of untouched food before him, rocking back and forth as Sain stood over him. The majority of the mumbles I heard came from Ryland’s lips.

Ilyan took one look at what was happening and rushed toward them, his intent to block Ryland’s memories echoing back through his thoughts.

Is he all right?
I asked, unable to take my eyes off my friend. The clarity of my mind that Ilyan’s magic had given me took away the monster that Cail had created for a moment. Right then, I only saw my friend, and my heart pulsed in worry. I reached toward the diamond that hung around my neck, knowing I needed to do something.

I was one step away from moving toward Ryland when he looked up at me.

My heart turned into a dark, painful fist at the look in his black eyes, at the hatred and pain that poured through him. In that one look, the veil of clarity vanished, leaving me face to face with the monster that still terrified me. I froze in place, my fingers still pressing the cold stone into my chest, unable to look away. Unable to move away from the raw hatred that stared back at me.

My voice curled and moaned as I forced my eyes down to the floor, the strange emotion leaving just as Ilyan’s words flitted into my mind.

His soul is destroyed, my love. I will help him. I promise you.

I nodded once at his words, even though I knew he couldn’t see me, and turned from them, needing to get away. Dramin sat at the table behind me, his hands wrapped around a large, earthen mug, another one at his side. He smiled as I caught sight of him, his head inclining toward the space next to him and to the mug I could only assume was for me.

“You always forget,” he said as I slid into the chair beside him, “so I came prepared.”

“Thank you.” I was unable to stop the smile that lit up my face, but it wasn’t for the mug. No matter how much my stomach turned in need of it, my smile was at seeing him, sitting on his own beside me.

“You’re okay.” It was a statement, not a question, my awed voice making me sound a little bit more like an amazed child than I had meant it to.

“Thanks to you, child,” Dramin said with his usual chipper tone as he lifted his cup to me, his eyes twinkling in a wink.

I wanted to smile at how familiar he was. I wanted to laugh and drink the Black Water, but I couldn’t, so I sat still, my smile fading somewhat as I looked into him. The question I knew I needed to ask felt like lead on my tongue.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I could never question your choices, child,” he said as he patted his hand against my arm, his motions slow and controlled. I raised my head to look at his green eyes that matched my father’s, and had matched mine many years ago, smiling brightly at me. “I might be very mad, however, if you don’t actually drink what I have given you.”

I smiled at Dramin and placed my hands over the rim of the cup, the warm steam of the liquid heating the palm of my hand as it filled. The warm aroma of honey drifted through the air, and I sighed, letting the scent warm me before the water did. I had just pressed the rim of my mug to my lips when Ryland yelled out, making my body jump and tense at the sound. I cringed and grabbed hold of the table, my knuckles turning white in expectation of him lunging across the room toward me.

Ryland hadn’t moved, however, he only sat, crying into Ilyan’s shoulder. Ilyan held his brother as he calmed him, his voice soft as he soothed him. Even though I could feel Ilyan’s anticipation of battle and the tense nature of his emotions, his demeanor remained calm as he held Ryland, working to soothe him. Wyn and Thom dutifully helped Ilyan as he pacified his brother while Sain… Sain stared at me.

My father’s eyes bored into me with a painful pressure that made me uncomfortable, his forehead wrinkled and I looked away, not really wanting to see the disappointment that would be there.

“Do not let him under your skin, Silnỳ,” Dramin said, the tone making it obvious he had witnessed the quick exchange between myself and Sain. “He is not ‘mad’ at you, as you say. Father just expects more from his children than most.”

I tried not to bristle at his words, but emotions pulsed and my head shot up, my eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Ha!” I said, the humor that I didn’t feel pushing itself into my voice. “I don’t see him telling you to buck up and go save the world.”

“And yet, here I sit.”

I jolted a bit at his words, the meaning as clear as day. Dramin had woken only last night, yet he sat before me, ready to run into the forest, ready to face what might be his certain death as well. While I knew Dramin was stubborn, I was aware that he wasn’t
that
stubborn. He probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Sain.

I didn’t know how to react to that. Heck, I didn’t even know what to expect from a father. I had memories of scraped knees and bedtime stories, not of an immortal who would do anything to push his children toward their true potential.

I sighed and smoothed the lines that had taken up residence on my forehead, trying to ignore the truth that lay behind Dramin’s words.

“Trust your heart, Silnỳ. Your magic will guide you. Whether it be to heal me, to run from a fight, or to learn underwater basket weaving. Trust in who you really are. Tatínek will, too.”

I nodded once at his words, desperately wanting him to be right. This was not just about my father coming to accept me; I wanted him to be right about trusting myself and trusting my magic.

Silence stretched between us as Ryland’s whimpers increased, the sound of his pain as heart-wrenching as the nervous fear that lay heavy in the air. I took another deep drink of Black Water, attempting to drain the mug and push away the fear.

“How does it feel to be a married woman?” Dramin asked out of nowhere, his voice conspiratorially low as he leaned toward me. His voice had been soft, but to me it was like the boom of a cannon, and I jumped, the Black Water trickling down my hands and over the table.

I knew I hadn’t heard him wrong. I was certain because I could still hear it echo in my mind over and over. The world felt twice as heavy as I turned toward him, shock lining my face. He didn’t seem deterred, however. He just smiled wider, chuckling deeply as if he had found a great joke.

“Is that not what they call it amongst the humans? Marriage?”

Joclyn?
Ilyan’s voice rumbled through my head, his distress peaking as the fear that gripped me moved right into him.

Dramin knows. About our bonding,
I returned, my eyes still glued to the man in question, my face a mask of shock that I knew gave me away.

My eyes darted to where Ilyan sat with Ryland. Ilyan’s face and body were calm even though I could feel the pulse of worry in him, but he showed no outward signs of the silent conversation he was absorbed in with me.

Of course he does,
Ilyan sent back to me, his voice lined with such a heavy joy I was surprised it wasn’t plastered on his face. Instead, he stayed still, his hands wrapped around Ryland’s as he whispered to him.

“How did you know?” My tongue stumbled though the words as my heart moved into my throat, the sensation making it hard to breathe, let alone swallow.

“I know everything,”

“Did you see?”

“No, my dear,” Dramin said, his voice almost sad as he took another drink of Black Water. “It is much simpler than that. Ilyan has not worn that ribbon where it could be seen since the 1400s.”