Burnt Devotion (17 page)

“No, Ryland!” I growled as loud as I dared and tried to grab his arms again, to push my magic into him enough that I could forcibly calm him down.

He merely kept fighting me, his body thrashing as whatever demons his father had impregnated him with grew stronger.

The closer Edmund came, the worse he got and the more this battle that we were minutes away from entering seemed like an impossibility.

The thought was full of anticipation and dread, but I ignored both, trying again to control Ryland as his hand latched onto my plate and sent the last of my cantaloupe salad flying.

“Great,” I groaned as Thom finally moved to help me, the added hands giving me enough leverage that I was able to find skin, my magic moving into him in a rush of heat and ice that calmed him immediately.

“No!” he called out again, but his interjection was half-hearted. His voice sunk as he did, right into the battered bench between Thom and I. Then his hands fell into the untouched plate of food before him, sending tomatoes rolling.

“That was fun,” I sighed, my own body collapsing while I remained careful to keep skin contact with the boy in question.

“For who?” Ryland’s voice was more like a whimper, the dejected growls barely audible.

I could only look at him. I didn’t know what to say. What did you say?

Watching him writhe as he fought his father’s control after everything he had gone through was heart wrenching. Everything felt tight, everything hurt every time I watched him. I wished I could fix it, but even the shield over his heart wasn’t enough. He was still infected.

“I know, Ry,” I sighed as I leaned my head against his shoulder, my hand tightening around his in what I would hope was a show of comfort. “I know.”

Ryland stiffened underneath my touch, his body tensing in fear and mine followed, suddenly worried about how he would react, realizing that this type of contact was as foreign to him as it was to me. However, he relaxed only a moment later, his head laying itself over mine as Sain burst back through the entry to the old stone kitchen. Dramin perked up from where he sat at the round table across from us at the return of his father.

“He’s coming.” Sain had more irritation in his voice than was possible for him. From what I had noticed, he usually kept that disappointment reserved for Joclyn.

But I guess Jos and Ilyan kind of went hand in hand now.

“At least, I hope he is. I don’t want to have to go back down there a third time.”

“He will come, Father. Have faith in our king.” Dramin’s voice was calm from where he sat across the kitchen. His focus was on one of the two mugs that sat before him and not on us.

“I will have faith in him when he starts making choices that are more conducive for all of Imdalind.” Sain’s voice held scorn, something Dramin firmly ignored, while Thom grunted loudly from the other side of Ryland, his dreads swinging as he threw his head back and laughed.

I flinched at the sound, the hostility behind what used to be so joyful throwing me off.

“Yes, because your choices are so effective for everyone,” Thom exclaimed loudly, his voice echoing around us like a bass drum.

“I speak only for the Drak.”

“I speak only for the half breeds, and they don’t seem to be complaining,” Thom growled, the bench we sat on shifting as he stood. Ryland and I rocked so abruptly that Ryland jerked, his voice moving into a howl of fear that wrenched through my muscles and sent both men rushing to his side, whatever face-off that had been about to take place forgotten.

We needed to get out of here, start moving, start fighting. The tension in this abbey was growing far too quickly. The violent waves of magic from the armies that surrounded us were affecting us all.

“I was afraid of this,” Sain’s voice was low as he stood over Ryland, his hands on his shoulders as he, too, tried to comfort him.

“You mean that he would turn into an uncontrollable weapon right as we are about to leave?” I couldn’t keep the snottiness out of my voice, a fact Thom seemed to enjoy as he laughed darkly beside me.

Everything about what Edmund had done seemed far too perfectly planned right then, and our escape appeared that much more impossible.

No matter how much I loved a challenge, this one was not one I was looking forward to. I cared for these people too much. I needed to protect them.

Even Dramin.

If only to prove to him that I was worth it. That I was sorry.

“I’m sitting right here,” Ryland sighed, his voice broken as he dropped his head into his hand, the long strong fingers of his free hand pulling at his curls roughly. I clung to the other one more tightly.

“Sorry, Ry.” It was all I could think to say.

My voice was a whisper against Ryland’s labored breathing, Dramin’s pained exhales, and the exasperated sighs of both Sain and Thom. The quiet of the room was almost as loud, as if each of us were voicing our unsaid fears and worries that were more like a plague.

The words came to me on instinct, as they always did. Perhaps it was because I had sung the song to Joclyn only hours before or because I had just woken up from yet another dream with Talon, but they were there. The words were a calm comfort to me, a pleasant reminder of so many positive memories.

“
I know you feel these are the worst of times, I do believe it’s true…
”

“What?” I smiled at Thom’s question, at his lack of knowledge of something that, to me, was such a common base.

“It’s a song from this band I like—”

“Styx, I know. I lived through the 70s and 80s, too. Although I preferred Queen.” He smiled as I did, my mind trying to wrap around the millions of possibilities that one statement could hold for me.

I opened my mouth to ask as Ilyan and Jos walked in, and anything I had been planning to say was instantly gone. Gone as if it had never happened, as if the air had been sucked from the room.

Yes, he was the king. Yes, she was my best friend. It should have been a boring normal entrance, except it wasn’t. Not by the way they stood next to each other, not by the way his hand rested protectively on her back.

My eyes were wide as I stared at them, fighting the smile at what was as clear as day, even without the long, golden ribbon that trailed from Ilyan’s hair.

It should have been normal.

Everyone who came from Imdalind knew of the length of the royal line, of the ribbon and what it meant. However, for Ilyan to wear it somewhere it could be seen and for Joclyn to be wearing a hoodie that covered what was normally an absolute mop of long, black hair … It wasn’t normal.

I knew at once what it meant. Just as everyone else did, it seemed, guessing by the amount of wide eyes I was surrounded by.

I guess my meddling hadn’t been in complete vain.

A wide grin spread over my face, my heart seeming to swell at what I saw. After everything she had to face and what Edmund had done to her, I was happy for her.

I was happy for them both.

Ilyan had waited so long for her, and after talking to her, I knew she loved him. It was beautiful.

“Surprise, surprise,” Thom growled from beside me, his voice low enough only I could hear.

I only rolled my eyes at him. Saying something about this new development so close to Ryland was only asking or trouble.

I shook my head at him in warning and went back to helping Ryland who whimpered beside me like an injured dog, thankfully oblivious to the new, while not unsurprising, development. I didn’t want to know what he would do if he found out they had bonded.

“My lord,” Sain greeted Ilyan royally as he approached them, and I had to forcibly restrain an eye roll. Of course he was all formal and courteous now, whereas earlier, he had seemed about ready to start a coup.

Joclyn watched us, a deep pain bowing through her features before she nodded once and moved to sit next to Dramin.

She looked entirely calm, entirely controlled compared to how I had seen her only yesterday—the scared, volatile girl who cowered in corners and clung to Ilyan like a lifeline. She stood straight and tall, her face happy. There was no wonder at why she was happy.

Joclyn laughed at something Dramin had said before turning back to us, the worry that was taking over her features sliding away as she caught my eye. Normally, she would have smiled, made a face, done anything, but she merely stared at me, so guilty that, if there had been any doubt, she took it all away.

Dirty little rat killer.

I wanted to laugh; instead, I just focused.

“Ryland.” The low rumble of Ilyan’s voice pulled me away from Joclyn’s betrayal inducing stare and back to the whimpering boy who rocked back and forth beside me, his brother surrounding him in what was part comfort, part security.

Wrestling baby tigers was never fun, no matter how cute you thought the stripes were.

“Ryland,” Ilyan tried again, this time the boy’s focus snapping right to him. “I need you to look at me. I would like to help you.”

Ryland moaned at his voice, the sound so low and mournful that it felt like the sound of a dying animal. It echoed around us before he began to rock with much more force. The action made it clear he was trying to find something to press his body against.

I fought the need to reach out to him, to wrap my hands around him as Sain and I had done for so many weeks and months as Cail destroyed him. I wasn’t the only one, either. Sain stood behind him, writhing his hands in the same agony.

It was becoming very clear that even Ilyan might not be able to calm Ryland down enough to transport him safely. It was not that he wasn’t trying, not that Ryland wasn’t trying. We had simply run out of time, and whatever Edmund had done, he had played his hand well. Just like the sight had said.

“Sain.” Ilyan kept his hand around his brothers as his focus shifted to the old Drak.

Sain’s eyes lit up as though he knew what was coming.

He probably did.

One of these days, I was going to say something that Sain didn’t foresee. I didn’t see that happening, but at least I was going to try.

“I need to know the exact moment my father will arrive—”

“You know Drak magic doesn’t work that way, Ilyan,” Sain interrupted him, the breach in conduct visibly bristling Ilyan.

I stepped back on instinct. I had been on the receiving end of that wrath one too many times as it was, and I wasn’t interested in making it a full one hundred.

“I understand this, Sain.” Yep, one foul step away from explosion. Could I leave now? “But I need you to get me as close to the exact time as possible.”

The two men locked eyes in a silent match for power. Whatever had upset Sain before came back full force as I felt their magic bristle. While I did fear Ilyan’s temper, this match up was only comical to me. I knew the power Draks held. What was Sain playing at?

A Chihuahua could not defeat a Great Dane, and it would be foolish of them to try.

Although, part of me kind of wanted them to, if only for the show.

Unfortunately for me, the staring match ended with a nod from Sain, and then his eyes instantly dipped to the haunting black the Draks always had. I looked away on instinct, the memories of the horror movie hallways from the night before only increasing my freak-out factor.

I must be losing my nerve. Either that, or I had too many nerves, the anticipation from the
exciting challenge
of what I was about to face too much. It could go both ways.

“Under the flashes of magic the sky breaks apart. The man will come bathed in flames. The time is soon when the sun will break the clouds. Then it will be too late.” Sain’s voice was that low rumble again, and I shivered on instinct, the magic in his words moving into me the same way they had before.

He had barely gotten the words out before Thom took off toward Dramin and Joclyn, his shoulders hunched as they always were, but this time, it had more to do with the fact of what Sain had said and what that meant for all of us.

I knew I wasn’t the only one to realize how dangerous what we were going into was, and the complication that was Ryland…

“Can’t you bind his memory, his heart, something to make it so I can get him from point A to point B without a massacre falling on my head?” Ilyan’s eyes widened at my question, his distaste in memory binds shining through.

I knew he hated them as much as the next person. It had taken sheer bribery to get him to perform one on me, but I really didn’t see how we had an option here.

It was bind him so tightly that he barely knew who he was and what was around him or risk him turning on me before we reached the cave.

I wasn’t very good at fighting people when the sole intent was supposed to be on keeping them alive.

Killing, yes.

Restraint, no.

I would make a terrible police officer.

Ilyan locked eyes with me as Ryland’s whimpers continued below us. His hands wrapped around his brother’s as he began to plea for help, for assistance, for Ilyan to take it all away.

The sound was so similar to how Cail used to plea with me on especially bad nights that it broke me.