Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (5 page)

“Why don’t I knit you a new Christmas sweater while I am at it?” Thom grumbled under his breath.

“Thomas.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Thom relented, nodding once in acceptance, even though I could tell he was upset over having to do so much.

I had expected to see the same acceptance of the plan on Sain’s face, but instead, he stared right at me, his green eyes as wide as saucers.

I cringed as the knife of his eyes cut into me, moving closer to Ilyan on habit.

Why is he looking at me like that?
I asked into Ilyan’s mind, my confusion growing.

I heard Ilyan’s heart rate pick up in my ears before his hand moved to stroke the side of my face. His fingers grazed over the skin as his emotions shifted, his thoughts moving right along with them when his own confusion gave way to a gentle pride.

“He is amazed by you, as am I.” His voice was a whisper as he spoke to me.

“It is more than amazement, Ilyan,” Sain said, his tone matching the awe that his face had held before. I almost jumped at his voice, shocked that he had been paying attention at all.

“What do you mean, Sain?” Ilyan asked, the muscles in his arms tensing as he held me against him protectively, the action flaring my nerves.

“She has been speaking into your mind,” Sain said as an answer, the words almost sounding like a revered song.

“Yes,” Ilyan’s deep voice rumbled through his chest, making it clear he didn’t want to elaborate.

“I had my suspicions before when I saw the burn of the Black Water on your hand, but I thought you were just pacifying an old man…” Sain whispered softly.

My fingers clung to Ilyan’s shirt as I waited for the news that was sure to come.

“You have fused your souls.”

Three

“F-f-us-sed-d?” The word was out before I could stop it, the stutter worse than right after Ilyan had pulled me from the nightmare, when I huddled against the toilet. I couldn’t help it, though; I couldn’t make sense of the confusing mess my father had just divulged.

“That is only lore, Sain.” Ilyan’s voice rumbled in disbelief, his emotions moving through me as his thoughts tumbled over each other.

“Is it?” Sain asked, his awe fading into amusement. “Then tell me, how does my child speak into your mind? There is no magical ability that can accomplish such things. I am sure there are others anomalies that connect you two. Things that cannot be explained.”

I looked away from Ilyan’s shocked expression to my father, my pulse quickening at being referred to as his child. The surprise at such an intimate title wore off as his words sank in, though.

There were other things that connected us.

I had felt them in the way I could feel Ilyan’s emotions, the way I could understand his thoughts before he put words to them. I had thought those were supposed to be normal magical abilities, which had come to me when my full powers had awakened. They felt normal to me. My magic, my mind just knew what to do—how to find Ilyan when he wasn’t near me, how to feel his emotions.

Then why was it only with Ilyan? Why could I not hear my father’s thoughts or feel Wyn’s emotions from across the abbey? The only time I had felt something similar was with Ryland, but we had been bonded then.

Is it a Zȇlství?
I asked as I turned in Ilyan’s arms, my hands soft against his chest as I looked up to him. I could see my shock looking back at me through him, my silver eyes wide as I tried to understand.

It was the only thing that made sense, out of the limited knowledge I had of magic. I felt like I was sifting through sand in search of a diamond as I tried to understand what Sain had been talking about.

“No, my love,” Ilyan whispered to me, his hand running down my face as he moved my hair out of my eyes. I could hear his thoughts as they trickled down to me; the promise to never bind himself to me until I was ready still strong.

“Then what is it?” I asked, my stomach tightly wound in fear.

“I am not sure. It is lore. If it is true, I can tell you that it is so much more than a Zȇlství …” He said nothing more as he held me against him, our eyes closing in harmony as our magic met, moving together. I could hear Ilyan’s thoughts trickle down to me, his mind tripping around thoughts and words and languages until it was a jumbled mess that got lost in the air between us.

“Ilyan?” my father asked, his voice soft as he interrupted us. “May I see your hand?”

Ilyan eyed him skeptically before he moved away from me. His steps were slow as he removed the heavy bandages he kept around the burn, allowing my father to see. I stood still against the table as Thom also came forward to see the dark red marks that Ilyan had given himself.

Ugly divots of black and blood red covered Ilyan’s entire palm, the burn stretched along the backs of his fingers and up his wrist. The angry, red skin was still glossy as it worked to heal itself, the burn not more than a day or two old. I had seen it last night, and even then I had been aware that it would never heal, not in the way the marks on his chest had. He would wear these painful scars forever.

“That would be why I despise that poison,” Thom said, his voice crinkling in disgust. He looked like he wanted to move away, but he held still, almost as if he couldn’t help himself from looking at the burns. It was the same look he had given me when Dramin had first given me the water, like it had offended him.

The problem was that his look was offending me. Ilyan’s hand looked terrible, but without that sacrifice and without the water, I wouldn’t be here.

“That poison saved me,” I said, the anger rippling through me. Thom lifted his eyes to meet mine, though he only rolled them and looked away, mumbling something about Dramin that I couldn’t hear. Ilyan’s back stiffened at his comment, but he said nothing, his muscles rippling under the dark cotton t-shirt he wore.

“This is very deep. I don’t think I have even seen one this deep before,” Sain whispered, his fingers prodding the sore skin, which caused Ilyan to jerk in pain. I jumped as Ilyan did, my fist reaching up to wind its way around the fabric of his shirt.

“Are all your burns tied to Joclyn in some way?” Sain glanced at Ilyan, his bushy eyebrows disappearing into his unkempt hair.

“Yes,” Ilyan replied through his teeth, his pain pulsing stronger the longer Sain touched the burns.

I didn’t like the way his muscles twitched as he restrained his agony. When I stepped up to him, wrapping my arms around his chest, his muscles tensed under me, the shadow of his pain flowing through me from the Štít. I buried my face into Ilyan’s chest as my magic worked to calm him, the scent of his shirt full of his magic.

“You are not privileged enough to touch the Black Water so frequently,” Sain said, his eyes not lifting from Ilyan’s hand.

Even I didn’t miss the slight disgust in Sain’s voice over Ilyan’s supposed disgrace of what Sain viewed as holy. To me, Black Water was still just food.

“I do not think this is a matter of privilege, Sain,” Ilyan said as he took his hand back from my father. “And not all hold your views of the Water. You would do well to remember that.”

Ilyan’s fingers were tense and stiff before he placed the burned skin of his hand against my arm, his magic surging alongside mine at the contact. His body calmed as my touch took away the pain that had fired through his blood, my skin almost acting like Novocain to him.

“You are not a Drak, Ilyan,” Sain countered, his voice full of scolding.

Ilyan tensed against me at Sain’s foolish comment. Even Thom backed up, shaking his head at Sain’s pride.

Ilyan was King, though I wasn’t sure if that title applied to my father. My father was one of the first of all magic. For all I knew, Ilyan should bow to him, but judging by the reactions of those around me, I guessed not.

“The water reacts differently to you than it does to my kind,” Sain plowed on, oblivious to Ilyan’s wrath that was about to release. “The water is part of me, fused with me body and soul, as it is with Joclyn.”

I stifled the gasp that tried to fight its way out of me; I had never thought of the Black Water being part of me that way. Although, in some ways, I had felt it; I had felt how my blood pulled at me, how it warmed after sights. The tone in Sain’s voice made it sound much more ominous, though, like it controlled me, instead of the other way around.

“When one who is not a Drak touches the Black Water, it infects their soul, like a poison. That is what enables us to give you sight. To peek into your future or your past, but you purposefully burned yourself to save her, and the Water moved into your soul in an attempt to infect it, to give you sight. Your body cannot handle such a change, so instead, it clung to your soul as you poured the water into Joclyn. Then, in its attempt to recreate you, the water sought out the magic of a Drak and your souls were fused together. Permanently.”

Permanently?
I asked in silence, the word not frightening me as much as I knew it should.

Ilyan looked away from my father at my question, his eyes catching mine as he unwound his arms from me. The flow of his magic spiked in a wave of warmth.

“He means, my love, that this… this connection between us can never be undone.” Ilyan’s hand moved away from my shoulder as he spoke, his burned fingers soft against my skin as they ran over my neck toward my mark.

I know what permanently means, Ilyan,
I said into his mind. He smiled at my comment.

My lip twitched, my own grin trying to sneak past my nerves.

“Do you resent my choice?” Ilyan asked, his touch gentle as his hands moved down my arm to clasp my hand.

“No, Ilyan, never,” I said, my words calm and controlled.
Do you regret it?

“For you, I regret nothing,” Ilyan breathed as he pressed his forehead against mine.

I pulled his magic into me in the stolen moment before Ilyan straightened, his back returning to its regal pose as he turned to face my father. “Sain, tell me. What I feel for your daughter, what I hope she feels for me—”

“Do I have time to leave?” Thom interrupted, obviously sensing where the conversation was going. I smiled at his outburst, but didn’t look away from the depth of Ilyan’s eyes that had captured me. I didn’t want to.

“How much has this connection influenced that?” Ilyan asked, his voice calm and strong, even though I could feel the worry behind it. My own apprehension grew, the question I hadn’t even thought to ask clenching my heart.

I felt so comfortable with Ilyan; everything felt so right. I didn’t want to think of that being a forced reaction from our woven souls, that it wasn’t real.

I
knew
I had felt the connection before. I had first recognized it when he lay unconscious in the cave, but it had grown since then. That alone promised me how real this was.

“It is your souls that are fused, Ilyan. Not your hearts,” Sain said, his face breaking into a wide grin that flashed a million childhood memories into my eyes. “Your future together may be defined—your essence combined—but your emotions? Your love? That was there before any seal took place. Without love, you wouldn’t have willingly sacrificed yourself for her. Without love, her heart wouldn’t have called to you and given you a way to find her. It was always there. It always will be.”

My heart relaxed as Ilyan’s did—mine in gratitude, his in eager anticipation.

“What will this do when we perform the bonding ceremony? What might happen to us?” Ilyan asked smoothly, his choice of words a lightning bolt through my nerves.

When.

Ilyan spoke of something akin to marriage, and I fought the blush that threatened to cover my face.

Sain bounced on his heels in eager anticipation, the bright-eyed look making me uncomfortable.

“When?” Thom spat, his irritation growing as the same word gave him a completely different reaction. “Surely not right now. You’ll at least give me time to leave, right?” Thom growled, his scowl growing before he turned away to focus on the map in an obvious attempt to drown us out. I was surprised he had stuck around all this time.

“I do not know, My Lord. As you said, this was only lore until now.
You
were lore, my dear child,” he said, his eyes darting to me as his voice echoed. “The treasured sight of a child who would come forth and save us all from the destruction that Edmund has brought.”

“You should be more worried about what your fused souls are going to do to the sight,” Thom said loudly as he smacked the table in frustration, causing me to jump at the sound. “The Silnỳ will still be able to fight, right?”

His desperate panic moved back into him again as he walked over to us, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. I had never seen him look so haggard, as though he was going to snap any minute.

“I’m right here,” I mumbled, trying not to let my frustration bristle at being referred to like a dog that had been taught tricks.

No one seemed to hear my quiet voice. Thom didn’t even look at me before Ilyan’s arm tightened me against him, his voice raising as he faced his brother.

“The sight has shown she will fight, so she will fight. I believe in her ability to do so,” Ilyan said as he held me against him protectively.

“Yeah, but did the sight say Ilyan was going to go off and fuse his soul to hers?” Thom asked as his hands jumped from his pockets, the movement so quick that I jerked in the expectation of being hit.

I flinched like a wounded dog, the action making Thom’s eyes glare into me more. The fear that lived in him turned into disgust that made me feel worse, made my anxiety jolt.

“No!” Thom snapped, his tirade continuing on as if he hadn’t noticed the way his action had affected me. Or maybe he had. “We have no idea how this is going to change her magic, her ability. She may be useless to us now.”

“Useless?” I spat, a strong, jagged edge of anger running through me. Right then, he only saw me as a thing, a pawn.

“It has made my magic stronger, Thom,” I said, my voice shaking even though I had tried to push the strength of the anger into it.

Thom only looked at me with the same disbelief he had held before.