Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4) (10 page)

BOOK: Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)
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The corridors stretched on forever as I moved, the flickering of the lights chipping away at my sanity. I turned one corner after another while the nightmare threatened to invade, the quick return scaring me. I had only just pushed away the fear, and to have it come back to me so soon made me doubt the progress I had thought I had made.

My heart thumped as the volatile tension wavered through me. The door came into view as I turned the last corner, the tall, wooden slab stretching high above me.

I took the last step and pressed my hand against the door, the tension in my neck growing as I paused. I was here. I could feel my magic beg me to move forward, yet I was scared. Scared I would be caught; scared I would fail. I didn’t know which fear was stronger.

I let out a shaky breath as I pushed the door open, my fingertips grazing over the smooth wood as I let it swing away from me. The door opened with a low creak that caused me to catch my breath. My eyes darted over the halls as if Ilyan would walk around the corner, but I knew it was foolish. I was too far away for him to hear me now.

I turned back to the pitch-black room where Dramin slept, fear knitting up my spine until I worried I would snap. Light filled the room as I stepped in, scaring me that I had been caught already, that someone was here, but I was alone. It was only the old torches that had lit with my arrival, my magic awakening them and filling the room with a dim, flickering light.

The light gave life to shadows that rose up like a forest. Dark fingers reached toward the ceiling, the skeletal ridges clawing at the joists and threatening to collapse the room. The frayed edges of my panic increased, my muscles overwrought.

I fought the need to fold into myself, pushing away the monsters as I turned to Dramin, focusing on the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He still remained in the same place, in the same position, and in the same clothes that he had from hours before. Nothing had changed.

I let out a shaky breath as I moved into the room, the powerful waves of my magic bathing the room with warmth in their mad attempt to reach him. It was the same as it had been with Wyn. My magic knew what to do, and it was desperate to begin.

“Hello, Uncle,” I whispered as I came up beside him, that familiar phrase sounding strangely out of place. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but I’m here to fix it.”

My voice trembled as I pleaded with the mostly lifeless man in front of me, asking him to forgive me. I took the last two steps, my fingers shaking as they reached toward the grey, clammy skin of his hands.

My magic reacted as my hands wrapped around his, the thin strands of my power flowing into him in eager anticipation. I let it flow, hoping it would warm him and take away the deathly hue in his skin.

Hoping it would bring Dramin back.

I exhaled as it filled him, my breath shuddering and crackling through the silence of the room. My nerves had almost completely gone, my mind so focused on what I was doing that there wasn’t any room for my insecurities or for doubt. It was only me and the magic that flowed through my fingers.

I let it move into him like a slow drip from a fountain, waves of power settling through him like thin layers of paper. I was sure it was too much; I could already feel his kidney giving out under the pressure. His heart beat so wildly, I was afraid it was going to put him into cardiac arrest. For the first time, I actually wished I had chosen to take biology instead of chemistry last year. I probably shouldn’t have used so much magic; I knew too much would kill him, but something told me I needed to, and I didn’t question it.

Tiny beads of sweat began to form underneath the braid that lay against my neck as I searched for the injury as Thom had taught me. The colorful swirls of the watercolor paint that my mind created shifted as I searched through him, the abstract images dancing while my magic moved. My shoulders tensed as I watched the bright colors within Dramin begin to dim, the black streaks of death that lived deep inside of him taking shape. The lines in my forehead wrinkled as I looked into the poison that was trying to kill him.

The wispy strands of his magic had curled and died into ash that settled in the pit of his heart. I needed to give back what I had taken from him. Even if he never woke up, even if he really passed away, I would make sure he left this world whole and with the most important thing.

His magic.

Everything in me felt tense as I worked to re-spark the tiny flame of magic that still lived inside of him, the light smothered by the dark soot. I coaxed and swelled my magic around that spark, but nothing happened. Dramin stayed still, the tiny flame doing nothing more than flicker inside of him.

My fingers wound themselves tightly through Dramin’s. I clung to him, my heart pulsing painfully as my magic did, the weakening strain in Dramin’s heart heating.

I jumped as a flash of silvery light shot through the darkness, the white heat of lightning catching the ground just beyond the window. The air crackled in an explosion that shook through me, electrifying the stagnant air. My magic jumped in fear that caused a bolt of energy to run into Dramin. I fought the scream of fright as the magic filled him, terror wrapping around me at what I had done.

The jolt was enough to kill him.

I waited in agony to hear Dramin’s last heartbeat, to feel his final breath against my skin, but instead, I felt the spark of his magic jump and flare under the surge, then nothing more.

His heart still beat strong under my fingertips.

I didn’t question how he had survived the surge as I gritted my teeth together, my magic flaring into his in a pulse of fire, coaxing his growing flame to find life. I tried to keep the yell restrained in my throat as my magic tired, my body heaving in exertion.

Dramin’s magic continued to grow and flare until it was almost what it had been before: a powerful torrent of ability and determination. It was more than that though: it was alive.

I had saved him.

I could feel the full torrent of his ability inside of him, his magic alive and well. My soul seemed to soar as I felt it, pulling away the layers of my magic from the now powerful flame of his ability, only to feel his magic flicker and die.

“No,” I gasped as a weight collapsed over me.

I felt his magic return to the ash it had been. It hadn’t been enough. Healing him wasn’t as easy as I had assumed it to be, no matter how strong I felt, no matter how my magic had guided me. My attempts hadn’t been enough.

I needed a jumpstart, like an EKG machine or a car battery. The pulse had been an accident before, but now I needed to try. My lips pressed together in a tight line at the thought. Doing this was going to be dangerous. Too much magic and I would kill him, too little and it wouldn’t work. There weren’t any more excuses; I had to try.

I needed more power, more magic.

Before, I had taken it from Ilyan. I knew I still could, I could feel the gentle hum of his magic through the Štít, but I couldn’t risk waking him, not when I was so close to succeeding.

A low rumble of thunder bled through the dark room, my head jerking up to the sound.

I hadn’t only taken magic from Ilyan before.

I smiled toward the dark storm that swirled through the window, the surge of the earth’s magic ticking over my chilled skin as it rode on the wind, relaxing me, energizing me.

My breath came in staccato spurts as I pulled the earth’s magic from the air, my own swelling as it came in contact with it. My body ached the more I pulled, the more I worked. The exhaustion that weighed on me was almost enough to topple me over. I might have if it wasn’t for the deep strains of earth magic. The powerful waves moved through me like a soothing balm. The pure power was intoxicating.

My body acted like a filter as I pressed my magic into Dramin, the dangerous power of the earth’s magic trapped inside of me, while the powerful strains moved softly into him. I layered the magic as I had before, the strong blankets moving one after another over Dramin’s heart, over the dying flame of his magic.

I wanted to believe this would be easy, that only one jolt would be necessary, but I could already feel my hands beginning to shake at what I was about to do. Afraid I would succeed at killing him this time.

I shook my head as the bitter taste of guilt filled my mouth, as I tried to focus on the way my magic felt inside of him. I could do this.

I let my magic surge once more, the pulse strong, but I could tell at once that my nerves had depleted the strength. It wasn’t enough.

“Come on, Jos, don’t be a wuss,” I scolded myself as I closed my eyes, ready to try again.

Only to have another form of magic stop me in my tracks.

Every nerve in my spine jolted in fear as magic the color of ice, and just as cold, struck my body.

The wet chill of the unfamiliar magic wound down my spine as my heart shuddered in my chest. I gasped and tensed, my power surging as my magic bolted through my brother in a torrent of force. It should have been enough to end his life, but instead it did what I had been trying to do all along. Dramin’s magic ignited at the potent surge, his magic catching fire as the pulse of power spread through his body.

I glanced at the dark room around me, expecting to find the source of the icy magic. Nothing was there, nothing but the heat of Dramin’s magic. I ran my magic through him, checking for injury, failing organs, anything. I felt nothing other than his magic as it coursed through him.

I only hoped it would stay that way this time.

I bit my lip as I stood, my hands unwinding from Dramin’s warming fingers. My breath remained captive in the expectation that his magic would flicker and die with the lost contact, but it stayed strong as I released him, the heavy flow warm and welcoming in the air around me. A powerful pulse of life now wound through him.

I had done it; I had healed him.

I didn’t dare move as I waited for him to wake and be whole, but he didn’t move; his magic didn’t flare. He just lay as still as stone, the same deathly sheen on his face.

I clenched my hands together as I stared at him, not wanting to accept that after everything, I had failed, that even though his magic was alive, Dramin was still destined to die.

I could feel my magic buzz through my fingers as thunder rumbled around me—desperate to try again—when the same icy magic I had felt minutes before shot through me again, the touch cold and painful.

My magic surged in an attempt to find where the terrifying jolt had come from, to find out who was coming, but as quickly as the magic had come, it left.

I stood still in the room, trying to steady my breathing as I scanned the dark, my magic soaring down dark hallways as I searched, only to find no one. I stretched out to the very edges of the abbey, but still, I felt nothing. No sign of the ice that had washed over me.

Until it came again.

Then the familiarity of the magic made sense. It was the feeling I had always gotten before Cail had come, cold like ice.

My breathing picked up into frantic pants as the thought raged through me, my insanity trying its hardest to drag me back down to the nightmare that haunted me. I fought against the pull, against the fear, Ilyan’s song coming right to mind in a desperate attempt to cling to the good memories and not let the blood that ran down the walls take over.

Still, I couldn’t stop my brain from screaming that Cail was here, that he had found me. Even though I knew he was dead.

I needed to get out of here.

My shoes slipped as I ran from Dramin in a desperate attempt to get away, to run from the nightmare that was so willing to drag me down. My feet sounded like bass drums against the stone walls, the heavy slaps of my shoes echoing in my ears. I opened the door and closed it without looking, not caring if it made a sound. My focus was only on making it back to my room, on getting away from Cail.

I didn’t even get the chance.

The cold magic flared again at the same time that something deep inside of me screamed in desperation. I fell against the wall right outside of Dramin’s door, my whole body seizing as footsteps even softer than mine made their way toward me, the familiar sound of his gait freezing me in place.

Except it wasn’t Cail, and the knowledge of who it really was gave me no chance to escape.

Ryland had found me.

 

Seven

 

“Jos!” Ryland’s voice erupted behind me, loud and unmistakably happy. I wished I could feel the joy that I had felt so long ago, but all I felt was the cold dread that I had lived with for months.

I dug the soft pads of my fingers into the stone I leaned against in my desperation to escape, the sound of my heartbeat a bass drum that a normal human wouldn’t have been able to live through. It banged painfully against my chest as my voice ripped into a scream of panic that burst through the darkness around me, even though I knew my yell would do nothing.

He had found me.

He would hurt me.

I could hear him walk toward me, his steps slow as the nightmares began to infiltrate my soul, my scream fading into a whimper. The cold, painful surge of what I now knew to be his magic flared next to me again, and I pushed myself into the wall as if it would give way and let me meld into it.

Let me get away.

“No, no-no-no-no-no,” I moaned, my fingers moving from the wall to knot through my hair. My chest pulsed angrily as it prepared for the bruises to come, for the bones to break.

“Jos, baby,” Ryland said from over me, my mind distorting the sound into a menacing laugh, into the drip of blood.

His footsteps echoed in my ears and I jumped, my fingers pulling at my hair with hard, little tugs that part of me hoped would wake me from this nightmare, convince me I was still safe. I pulled until I could barely handle the pain, until the soft touch of his hand against the skin of my arm made my magic explode.

I jerked as the icy touch reacted with my magic in an explosion of white light and wind that rocked the ancient stone on which I sat. Strands of hair that I had pulled from my braid lashed around my face as I screamed in fear. Ryland’s angry yell was drowned by the crash of stone as the explosion pushed him through the wall across from me.

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