Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (42 page)

Wyn is coming to you,
Ilyan spoke into my mind, the tone of his voice adding to the worry her magic had given me

Yes, I can feel her.

She knows.
His voice was simple, but it ran through me like ice. I knew she did, I had seen that look in her eyes in the kitchen before, but I could already tell that this visit wasn’t going to be congratulatory.

Is she mad?
I asked, her magic flaring the closer she came. Ilyan’s agitation washed over me, his memory rushing into me as it repeated the quick conversation he had with her.

I could see her prod for answers, her demeanor more of that confusing adult persona that had been flashing through her lately. Ilyan had laughed at her demand, unwilling to give her the answers, and so she stormed out, right to me.

I guess I’ll find out.
I cringed when a blob of orange light flared ahead of me as she grew closer, the aggressive flare of anxiety running through me. I pushed it away as best I could before she came into view.

“So when exactly were you going to tell me?” she snapped the moment she came into view, the orange light she held mixing with my gold to make the cave look like molded cheese sauce.

I already missed the gold.

I watched her come, letting her words wash over me, determined to keep my face as impassable as possible, knowing she would see through it anyway. As much as I wanted to tell her, I was still apprehensive, and her full blown accusation wasn’t helping much.

“Tell you what?” I asked, my voice higher than it should have been for such a simple question. I guessed I wasn’t going to be able to make her fight for it as much as I wanted.

Sure enough, she rolled her eyes, her jaw clenching and unclenching in agitation.

“Oh, don’t play coy,” she grumbled as she came right up to me, forcing me to come to a full stop. “I can read you like an open book. You walking around like a goon wearing a hoodie, Ilyan binding his hair with the délka vedení královského again, and obviously Ilyan can read your mind or some nonsense. It’s not like you guys really hid it or anything.”

I knew we hadn’t; we had foolishly tried, and I supposed to anyone else it might have worked, but not to Wyn, not to Dramin, and certainly not to Ryland.

I swallowed the lump that had built in my throat and tried to come up with some form of response, but none came, so I held still and waited for the police-force-style questioning to continue, knowing full-well I had to answer her. Judging by the smile trying to creep onto her face, she knew, too. Although, I wasn’t sure if she was going to erupt into giggles or hysterics.

“When?” she asked, her voice hard even though I could still see the smile trying to escape.

I exhaled deeply and looked away; I knew I couldn’t leave her completely hanging.

“Last night. After we left your room,” I whispered, my voice breaking as if I was letting her in on some dirty secret.

“Obviously,” Wyn said as she rolled her eyes again, the action so over-exaggerated that I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, at least whatever I said worked.”

“I knew it.”

It was a lie; I hadn’t really known it so to speak, but looking back on it now, it made perfect sense. Silly, meddling Wyn just wouldn’t leave well enough alone; she never did. I should have caught onto her game sooner, however, at the time, I had been too embarrassed at having been caught in such a conversation.

Wyn smiled, breaking through the angry mask she had given herself and prancing a bit through the darkened cave, her joy at having been caught in her game infectious.

“I couldn’t let Ilyan ruin this for himself. He’s been waiting so long.” Wyn laughed as she pleaded her case, but she didn’t need to; I agreed with her

“I know.”

“I am happy for you,” she squealed in my ear as she rushed at me, the bone-crushing hug wrapped so tightly around me I was having trouble breathing, yet I didn’t care. I clung to her as she did me, the wide, goofy grin plastered to my face.

“You seem so much stronger, calm. I don’t know how to explain it, but something has changed.”

“Thank you,” I gasped, the words barely coming out.

Wyn pulled away, finally realizing I couldn’t breathe, her body practically bouncing with excitement before me.

“So are you going to let me see it?” I stiffened at her question, my nerves prickling in fear. I had no idea what she was talking about. My confusion must have been clear on my face because Wyn rolled her eyes as she pulled at the hood that was still placed on my head.

“The braid,” she clarified, her voice showing exaggerated irritation. “I am assuming Ilyan did it the right way this time.”

Her voice had gotten soft, the whisper almost pulling me back into the ceremony—the beauty of it, the feel of Ilyan’s fingers in my hair. I could still feel that secrecy, that need to keep something so beautiful hidden, something for Ilyan and me to treasure. Strangely, part of me wanted to show her, though, like a secret that you just couldn’t keep to yourself.

My heart thumped as my stomach turned, my hands lifting to remove the hood that Ilyan had so gently placed over his masterpiece. I felt the weight on my head change as I released the braid, the long, golden ribbon untangling itself to fall down my back and snake to the floor. Wyn said nothing as she stepped around me, her breath catching. I waited for an explanation, anything, but she stayed silent.

“Is it good?” I asked when I couldn’t take it any longer; her silence was too much. My hands wound around each other in agitation as I waited, her fingers pressing against the soft strands of hair.

“I have never seen one so perfect before,” she finally said, her voice unbelievably awed. “The lines… nothing is out of place. And the roses, I have never seen the ribbons bound into roses.”

The soft pressure I had felt left as I felt a gentle tug, certain she was letting her hands run down the délka vedení královského.

“Did it hurt? He must have had to pull to get it so right.”

“I barely felt anything,” I whispered, my heart beating faster as the memory swelled, the strangely intimate moment affecting me more than I would have thought.

“Really?” Wyn asked, her voice echoing around us as she shrieked, her shock causing me to smile more. “Talon gave me a bruise, right here.”

Wyn pressed gently against my head, right above my left ear, and I couldn’t help grinning. I had felt nothing except the touch of Ilyan’s fingertips and the gentle pressure of his lips against my head.

“You are blessed, My Lady. I cannot think of anyone more perfect than you to take that role.” My insides tightened as she spoke. For some reason, my new title hadn’t bothered me so much with Dramin, but with Wyn, it felt foreign and unwanted.

“Don’t call me that,” I said, the snap coming out of my voice no matter how much I tried to ignore it. I spun to face her, my sudden movement shocking her, and she froze with her eyes wide, her hand still lifted awkwardly in the air.

“My Lady?” She looked at me with those wide eyes before her features softened, her hand dropping to perch indignantly on her hip. It was already obvious that she was going to fight me on this, something I really wasn’t interested in.

I exhaled deeply and walked away from her, following my magic as it pulled me toward Ilyan. My golden light followed me as I moved, the bouncing of it matching my gait almost perfectly.

“You wear the délka vedení královského,” Wyn said as she ran up to me. My heart fell that she was going to push it so soon. “It’s kind of a requirement, Jos.”

“Don’t give me that.” I turned toward her as I walked, my voice a little harder than I had intended it to be. “You barely call Ilyan My Lord; you can break the rule for me.”

I knew I was pleading, begging, and I knew it shouldn’t mean anything, but it did.

I pulled out the full, pouty lip at her as we walked, knowing I needed to break out the big guns. Thankfully, she only laughed, lacing her arm through mine.

“Well, if it’s for you,” she said with a smile just as the bright light of the campfire ahead flickered into view. “I am still happy it’s you, My Lady.”

I glared at her, but she only smiled brightly at me.

“Now that I have shown you my secret, you need to tell me yours.” I kept my voice low, hoping to prompt her into being honest about whatever was going on with her and Thom, and how she was coping with Talon’s death.

Her smile faded for a second as she sucked in breath, her chest heaving as she looked away from me toward the glow of the campfire that continued to grow closer, her face lighting again almost immediately.

“I guess I owe you that, don’t I?” she said, her voice brightening. “Tomorrow.”

Wyn smiled broadly at me as she walked away from me and into camp. My nerves prickled in agitation, but I guess I couldn’t get too mad; this time I had a feeling she was actually going to talk to me. Either that or I would force it out of her.

I shook my head as I followed her into the circle of light where everyone had made camp, the warmth of the fire moving over me. The fire glowed a brilliant yellow, the blaze peeking out from a pile of rocks as if the rocks themselves were on fire. Everyone sat close enough to the fire that they were bathed in its light, most leaning against the side of the narrow tunnel as they tried to find comfort. Their bodies were spent and exhausted after what we had just gone through.

Sain was handing Dramin a large mug from where he sat, his magic throbbing dully with exhaustion. Ilyan stood up from where he had been hunched over Ryland’s sleeping body at our arrival, his face tense, almost apprehensive at how things had gone between Wyn and me.

Are you all right, my love?
he asked silently, his eyes capturing mine the closer I walked to him.

I nodded my head once as Wyn smiled at me. Her knowing glare sent my stomach squirming until she left me, walking over to where Thom sat, his body sprawled out as if he was sleeping. I knew better, though; he was far too still to be sleeping.

Sain turned toward us as Ilyan came to my side, but I didn’t move my eyes from Ilyan’s. My magic rocked through me as Ilyan grabbed my hand, lifting it to press it against his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone deep as his magic flared, moving right to my abdomen and where the large opening had been minutes before. Through everything, I had almost forgotten what had happened.

My face tightened as the memory flashed through me. Ilyan’s hand left mine as he pulled the hood back over my head, carefully making sure everything was hidden.

Ilyan said nothing as he led me back into the darkness of the cave away from everyone else. His shield moved around us to block us from view as we walked. We didn’t move far, only far enough that we were out of earshot, where the only light was the faded glow of the fire. Everything around us was chilled and cast in shadow.

“Did Ilyan leave?” Thom suddenly said from behind us, his gruff voice filled with exaggerated mocking. “I really wanted him to tuck me in, too.”

My head spun around at his voice just in time to see Wyn smack him upside the head while Dramin chuckled from the other side of the tunnel. I couldn’t help but smile at the exchange, something about it so normal and familiar even though I could feel Ilyan’s frustration usurp the humor in it.

“Does everyone know?” I whispered, my nerves flying rapidly through me as I asked the question.

Ilyan smiled, his joy streaming through me as he moved me against the wall. I leaned against the cold rock as his hand rested against the cave wall right next to my head, his body moving closer to me until I was trapped with only an inch of air between us.

“Everyone knows,” he said, his smiling eyes meeting mine before his lips twitched and he lowered himself to inspect the blood-stained gash on the hoodie, and the mutilated flesh underneath.

“We need to take this off.” Ilyan didn’t wait for me to answer; he just balled the thick fabric as he lifted the heavy hoodie over my head, his movements careful as he worked to keep my shirt in place and the braid untouched.

I closed my eyes as the fabric passed overhead, only opening them at the touch of Ilyan’s hand against my shoulder, the sound of fabric against stone as he dropped the hoodie to the ground.

Ilyan wasn’t looking at me, though; his eyes were focused on the massive red stain on the shirt. The glistening patches of my own blood appearing twice as bad in the dim light of the cave. Ilyan’s hands dragged down my bare arms as he kneeled before me again, his hands squeezing mine before he let me go, his eyes focused intently on my abdomen.

He lifted my shirt as his hands brushed against my stomach, revealing the layer of blood that had dried against me.

The warmth of his breath ran over me as his fingers moved over my abdomen, his chest tight in worry. He said nothing as he grabbed the hoodie off the ground, pressing it against my bare stomach as his magic surged through the fabric. The fabric warmed against my skin as he pulled the water out of the air and into it, giving him a chance to clean the blood that covered me.

His movements were slow and gentle as he cleaned me until all that was left was a long, raised brown scar the stretched over my navel and down toward my hipbone, right where the Trpaslík’s blade had cut through me.

Ilyan sucked in a pained breath as he saw the ugly scar, his fingertips tracing along the long, dark line as I held my breath. His touch was soft as his heartbeat faltered, his regret flooding into me. I could see it in his eyes and hear the thoughts of failure as my stomach tightened.

I reached forward and ran my hand over the soft feathers of his hair before he looked up to me, his eyes wide as he pled for forgiveness.

“You didn’t fail me, Ilyan,” I whispered. “You healed me; you got me out alive. This is not failure.”

He said nothing as he looked at me before he closed his eyes, his regret melting away. He looked down, leaning forward until his lips pressed against the long, ugly scar that I knew I would always have. His magic surged through me at the touch, my stomach tightening as the intimate touch jolted through me.