Read Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) Online
Authors: Rebecca Ethington
I just hoped we had enough time. If the Trpaslíks were seeking us out, there was no guarantee that Ovailia wouldn’t already know of our arrival.
I could hear the heavy footfalls as our enemies closed in, their magic growing and flaring from all sides as they surrounded us. I clenched onto Ilyan’s hand, sure he felt it, too, just as we moved through the final ring of tents, breaking free of the horrifying labyrinth, to face hundreds of Trpaslíks who stood around the red and purple fire, waiting for us.
They all looked up at our arrival, wicked smiles illuminating their eyes with a maniacal light that seemed to scream of our death. I could tell by the way they licked their lips—the way their fingers crackled and pulsed with power—that they thought this would be a quick end to the man they had hunted for so long.
They were wrong.
I smiled at the looks on their faces, smiled because they thought they had the upper hand. I could see the canvas walls of the Vilỳ’s tent just beyond the crowd, the whole thing vibrating from the diseased creatures that had been restrained inside. That was where we needed to get to, the first major step in Ilyan’s plan. By the look of fury in the Trpaslíks’ eyes, though, they were going to make this harder than I would have liked.
My magic prickled as I pushed it away from me, my mind creating a map of the exact placement of every Trpaslík that surrounded us. The surge of their anger influenced my magic until it prickled under my skin. The power ran through me, the anger that Cail had infused me with finding an outlet, and I smiled, eager to begin.
My fingers sparked as I stepped in front of Ilyan, my hands spreading wide as I showed them the power that was waiting to escape, the magic that wanted to end this as much as I did.
The power continued to swell as I held it inside of me, the heat of my attack pressing against my skin, ready to explode. I saw the fear in the eyes of the Trpaslíks closest to us as their understanding peaked, yet it was too late.
My magic exploded in a rush of air and fire that spread away with the strength of a bomb. It burned through the fabric of the tents, and through the bodies of those who were closest to me. It washed over the entire camp as the smiles and jeers of a hopeful victory turned to yells and screams of agony and death.
Lines of men that had surrounded us fell, their screams evaporating into the air as their bodies hit the ground, never to rise again. The screams spread through the circle as the attack broadened, the sounds rippling away as more and more of them began to understand what was happening, the weak running away while the strong stepped forward, ready to face us.
To face me.
I was sure Ovailia had heard the screams, had seen the fire light the sky, and felt the residual waves of the attack. If she hadn’t been aware that we were coming for her already, she was now, and we hadn’t even blown the tent yet. Time was not on our side.
I only hoped Edmund had not arrived yet.
Get the tent,
I ordered, hoping that Ilyan wouldn’t second guess a command given by me as I rushed away from him toward the survivors who were charging me, their battle cry loud in my ears.
Ilyan rushed through the remaining army as I did, his movements quick as he took to the air, flying toward the tent in a streak of gold. I wasted no time and ran into the fray, my magic pulsing as two Trpaslíks found their feet, their faces hard as they rushed me, their magic sparking in preparation to kill.
I smiled at them, my hand pressing away from my chest as I pushed with an aggressive wall of magic that picked them up and sent them high above the trees. Their flight was illuminated by the lightning that littered the sky.
I had no time to watch them or to bask in any success before my magic flared in alarm and I spun on the spot, a swipe of my hand sending a flame of red through the air, the act removing the hand of the Trpaslík who had stood behind me, his hand placed for a final blow. He screamed in agony as he dropped to his knees, the fire of my attack sealing the flesh of his now dismembered arm.
I left him screaming as I took two steps back, a stream of black soaring through the air I had just vacated. I turned toward the attacker and pressed my hands against him, the pressure of the air working against me as if it was a brick wall. I pushed against the pressure, my magic exploding as it worked past it, sending the tiny man away from me and into a tree that stood twenty feet away.
I turned and ran as the loud crack of breaking wood filled the clearing, my feet skidding against dead leaves as I worked to make it toward Ilyan. My feet pumped forward as I jumped over the lifeless bodies that surrounded me, only to be stopped by a pulse as strong as a jackhammer against my spine.
I screamed at the impact, my spine contorting into a weird angle as I fell to the ground, my muscles seizing and flaring as I pushed myself onto my back, desperate to find a way to escape the pain, to fight the Trpaslík with the blood-stained eyes who looked down on me.
Joclyn!
I howled in agony as I fought the pain, the warmth of Ilyan’s magic flooded me as I silently pleaded with him not to come to my aide, even though I could hear the desperate need in his mind.
I looked into the blood tinged teeth of my attacker as he laughed above me, and I screamed louder. The pain in my back fell away until all I felt was Ilyan’s warmth, but I didn’t stop screaming. I let my throat crack and bleed in my supposed pain, my magic prickling with awareness as more and more Trpaslíks surrounded me.
My heart broke as I continued to feel Ilyan’s unfounded worry, his agony so broken that I almost lost hold of my erroneous scream, of my plan. I held on, though, my determination surging as my scream did.
More Trpaslíks looked down at me as they sneered and laughed at their supposed success. Their magic flared in victory, mine growing along with it.
I stopped screaming.
Silence rent the air as I smiled at them, their confusion plastered on their faces before I pressed my hand against the dirt I lay against. My magic flooded the earth in a violent pulse, the power causing a rumble that shook the world. The ground shifted beneath me as the earth groaned and broke apart; dirt, rocks, and burning logs exploded into the air in a wide circle of destruction. Fire and rubble lifted from the ground in a spectacular blast that spread away from me like the ripples of a pond, the ground opening up as it prepared to swallow everyone in its path.
I watched the men’s faces change from curiosity to fear as the stable ground they had stood on disappeared into a wide cavern that was ready to swallow them whole. The ground shifted beneath me and I rolled onto my hands and knees before I took off running, my muscles pumping fast in an attempt to escape the chaos I had just created.
I jumped and dodged the shifting ground as the dirt continued to explode around me, little pops of my magic acting like grenades against the forest floor. Each explosion showered me in dirt before I jumped into the air, the wind catching me when it took me away from the fray, past the screams and the open maw of earth that would swallow them all. The wind caught my hood as I flew, ripping it from my head as my braid fell free from its confines.
I had just cleared the line of dirt when the sky opened up in a pillar of fire, the blaze of power exploding from the tent of Vilỳs as Ilyan’s magic ignited it in an explosion so powerful the trees that surrounded me swayed and shimmied in the wake. The sky glowed red as the eruption grew, the screams of the Trpaslíks below me faded out, replaced by the high pitched screams of the Vilỳs as they burned from within Ilyan’s blaze.
Goodbye, my friends.
I felt Ilyan’s regret flood me as I landed beside him, my feet stumbling as the strong wind that had supported me attempted to blow me over.
The powerful wind picked up the endings of the long, golden ribbons that bound our hair, the long strands tangling together as they hovered in the wind that surrounded us. I watched the blaze as my ribbon danced alongside Ilyan’s, the long strands winding around each other as the red light reflected off the glittering surface.
Magic I had never wanted to feel again rocked through me, the waves of hatred and despair rising so quickly I couldn’t stop the anxiety, no matter how hard Ilyan’s magic worked to counteract it. I clung to Ilyan as the magic infiltrated me. The earth shook under the horrifying weight of the oppressive magic, and the red flames of the explosion turned the long, slender trunks of the trees into streaks of blood. I clung to Ilyan as the fear filled me, my legs unable to support my weight.
“Cail,” I gasped the name, knowing it was wrong, knowing it couldn’t be true.
Cail was dead. I had killed him. Besides, this magic was so much more than what had filled Cail’s mind, more than the guards that had come before. This magic was the source, the pure hatred that had fueled Cail, that had fueled my fear and my tortures. I was feeling it in its unfiltered form, and the sensation was crippling.
It wasn’t Cail I should be afraid of; it never had been because it had never been Cail who had held the cards, never Cail who had trapped me.
It was Edmund.
Edmund who had captured me. Edmund who had controlled Cail. Edmund who would kill us all.
I fought the scream as the realization hit me and my body fought a fight I wasn’t sure I could win.
Edmund is here,
I sent the words to Ilyan, knowing I couldn’t possibly grasp enough oxygen to speak.
Ilyan’s magic sparked violently as my words filled his mind, the anxiety growing as I clawed at the warm threads of Ilyan’s power and weaved it with mine. I felt my magic peak at the added warmth, my Drak blood flaring as it pulled my mind through the fire-licked forest. Ilyan’s mind moved right alongside me until Edmund’s face came into view, the red tinge of the burning fire lighting his eyes.
I gasped as I realized how close he was, my breath coming in heavy spurts as my lungs fought what they so desperately needed.
I pulled my magic back as the vision faded from me, Ilyan’s hand wrapping around my waist as he took off into the air away from Edmund. I felt the strong grip of Ilyan’s arm as well as the wind that bellowed through my hair, but I couldn’t focus beyond the panic that seeing his face, that feeling his magic, had given me.
“Fight it, my love,” Ilyan whispered as the ash-tinged air flew over us. “Focus on my heartbeat. On our heartbeats. You are stronger than it.”
I gasped for air as he held me to him, trying to focus on the steady thrum as our hearts beat in time, allowing the sound to calm me. It just wasn’t working, the power of Edmund’s magic seemed to be following us, to be growing.
I opened my mouth to scream, to warn Ilyan that Edmund was here just as our bodies crumpled against a stone barrier we could not see. Ilyan’s magic left the air, the wind that had supported us falling from the sky, sending us tumbling to the ground.
We dropped like rocks through the air, Ilyan’s arms leaving mine as we fell into a large branch, the bark scraping against my skin as I slid against it.
My fingers clawed at the smooth texture of the bark, trying to grab on, but my body continued to fall. Just like before, when I had been thrown from the window. I screamed at the memory; at the impact I knew was coming. My agonized voice ran through the forest as I fell into yet another branch, my back impacting into the solid surface before I slid away and fell to the ground in a painful jolt.
A loud grunt escaped me as a wave of pain moved through my bones. I froze in fear and pain as I tried to figure out what had happened, and if I could even move.
I wasn’t sure I could. The pain was everywhere. Even without the pain, Edmund’s magic continued to cripple me, my body winding itself in knots as I tried to move past it, to stay stronger than it.
My hearing peaked, waiting for another soft thud, but none came. I was the only one who had landed.
Ilyan?
I asked, my voice panicked as I felt his mind rush, his magic surge.
I could sense Ilyan’s magic rush through me, feel the pull of his heart. I fought my demons as I sought him out, my mind knowing where he was without so much as trying. I could feel him, surrounded by a circle of Trpaslíks just on the other side of the thick line of trees that surrounded me.
Joclyn!
Ilyan yelled to me, his mind panicked for me while I felt the surge of excitement as he prepared to face battle. I needed to get to him, to help him.
I shifted my weight as I tried to stand, my body aching as I attempted to move fast, my broken ribs protesting against the movement as my magic frantically moved to heal them.
I looked through the trees as his battle cry rent the air, my magic pulsing with such a maniacal energy that I wasn’t quite sure whether it belonged to me or him.
I prepared to take off into the air, knowing my aching body would take too long to run, when the reason for our fall suddenly became clear. A magical pulse I hadn’t felt in months swelled behind me just as the sound of crunching leaves met my ears. I cringed as I felt her, cursing myself for not paying better attention to my surroundings. For being so focused on the fear of Edmund’s magic and my need to get to Ilyan. It had been a mistake I wouldn’t repeat twice. I turned toward her, my eyes narrowing as her magic solidified.
“Well, well, well,” Ovailia said, her voice hard and sweet as she made her way into the small clearing. “What a pleasant surprise. I had expected to capture my brother, but you as well? It must be my lucky day.”
I said nothing as she moved closer to me, even though I could feel the anxiety slip away, the fear replaced by an angry pulse that sped through me. I just looked at her and let the emotions run over me, but the prickle of my animosity wasn’t what I was focused on.
I narrowed my eyes at her as my magic surged through Ilyan, my power moving through his blood stream as I felt him fight, his heartbeat erratic as he realized who I was facing. My magic pulsed through his heart as mine sped up, his beating in time with mine.
Focus, my love.
Ilyan’s voice came strong as his magic pulsed in an attack, his mind moving as he sped to his next opponent.