Scorched Treachery (31 page)

“But he didn’t hurt her, did he?” Ovailia yelled as she transitioned smoothly to English.

“Ovailia, he punched her when I came into the room!” I eyed them as I moved to the side of the bed, my position and posture making it very clear I wasn’t going to give her to them.

“I didn’t see that,” Ovailia lied smoothly, the laugh that escaped Ryland’s mouth making it clear he believed her, that, like a child, he thought he had gotten away with something.

“He’s going to lie anyway, Ovailia,” Ryland said. “He’s been feeding her lies. Just as you said.” Both my and Joclyn’s heart rate increased, but for entirely different reasons. Hers had accelerated in fear at the sound of Ryland’s voice, mine in the realization of loss. My sister had played her game well. She had manipulated what was left of Ryland’s mind just enough to turn him against me. I thought I had recovered enough of him when we had talked yesterday, but now I was not so sure.

“What lies have you been telling
him
, Ovailia?” I said.

“Nothing much. Two can play at this game, Ilyan.” The wicked honey texture of her voice flared as she smiled at me in exhilaration.

Before anyone could say anything else, Joclyn’s heart rate increased. Her breathing picked up and her voice opened up into a howl so traumatized it wrenched through each of us. Even Ovailia looked surprised and somewhat pained. Ryland took a step forward, the desperation to comfort her evident, but I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t risk his life or put Joclyn through the pain.

He would have to be patient.

I looked at him, my eyes pleading for him to understand, begging him to give her space. He looked between Ovailia, whose wide eyes dug into him in warning, myself, and the bed, where Joclyn’s cries continued to wail before moving back against the wall. His choice was obvious.

Even though Ovailia had taken away his trust in me, his longing for Joclyn was still stronger than the weak allegiance he had for Ovailia.

Ovailia saw his choice, and I saw her pride stutter for just a moment, her head spinning toward me, her eyes flashing as her long hair swirled around her.

“You’ll regret this, Ilyan.” I barely heard her voice above Joclyn’s yells.

“I want you out, Ovailia! Leave the Abbey, and take your pathetic game with you.” I couldn’t control the level of my voice. The anger I felt at the loss of my sister hit me far deeper then I would have expected.

Ovailia left quickly, the power in my voice not giving her a chance to question. Before the door had closed, I looked to Ryland, the pain was still evident in his face at not being able to help Joclyn, and his distrust of me rang
strongly in his eyes. I couldn’t trust him either, but right now, I needed to focus on Joclyn.

“Wait right outside the room, and keep the door open,” I instructed him in Czech. “I will let you see her in a few minutes.”

I did not intend to let him in to see her, not after what he had done to her face, but I needed his trust, and I needed him close. I would have to settle for some middle ground until I figured out what to do with the two damaged weapons that fate had placed in my care.

I dropped to the floor the second Ryland had left, pressing myself against
it to look at Joclyn between the gap of the floor and the bed. With my full focus on her, I let my magic surge. It filled her completely as I calmed her, steadied her heart, and soothed her joints. She just looked at me with her beautiful eyes as her fear slowly dissipated.

When her heart rate was almost level, level enough not to trigger an attack, or so I hoped, I reached forward toward her, my hand extended in help, in safety. Even though I longed for it, she did not reach for
me; her eyes only looked at the gesture for a moment before returning to my face, making it clear she had no interest in going anywhere yet.

I flattened myself against the floor, keeping my eyes on hers as I pressed myself against the bed frame, not able to make my body fit underneath the tiny gap. 

“I’m sorry, Jos. I will make you safe. I will make you whole again,” I whispered to her, not willing to take my eyes off her, letting the safety I wanted her to feel radiate off my skin.

She just stared at me, her bright eyes shining. I could see the hope in
them, the small spark as her mind worked through what I had said.

Believe it.

I said the words to myself, wishing there was a way to say them aloud, to make her feel them and know it was true.

It was the only promise I could give her, but one I would work until my dying day to make happen. I wanted her to be whole, to be happy. I wanted to see that smile on her face again.

Her eyes were welcoming and so I took a chance and moved myself under the frame, lifting the heavy wood just enough to make room. She didn’t shy away from me; she kept still, so I continued to move until I was right up against her, our bodies wedged in the tiny space under the bed, a place that offered Joclyn security.

I lay near her, and we looked into each other’s eyes, hers panicked, mine soft. Before I was even aware she had moved, her fingers reached up to run through the short hair that now lined the top of my head. My heart jolted at the contact, a smile coming to my lips as I moved a bit closer. I wanted her touch to continue but her hand left, my movement obviously too much too fast.

“I cut it for you, after what you said in Italy. When you couldn’t wake up… I was…” I had to stop. I didn’t know what to say, how to explain what had happened. How do you tell the woman you love about the fear and pain you felt when you thought you had lost her? Even thinking about it brought the anxiety I had felt back into my gut.

Her fingers brushed my arm in apology before she moved into me, her body melding against mine. My arms mov
ed around her as if they belonged there, even though they didn’t. But for this moment, because she needed them, they did, they needed to. She could have whatever she needed from me until I could make her whole.

Our song filled our cramped space as I sang and held her against me. My lips brushed against the skin of her temple as I sang, the raw skin of my palm rubbing up and down her arm, opening the connection between us again.

I felt her heart as it beat alongside mine. I felt her breathing as it calmed and settled into a rate that was almost near my own. I let my magic surge into her, let it swirl through her as it calmed her and she became the strong girl she was only a few weeks ago.

I could give her that back, and I would.

I would stand by her, love her, and protect her until the day I died.

We stayed like that, pressed against each other for a few precious minutes. Minutes that would forever be marked in my mind as the last before everything fell apart.

The last moment until I heard a yell I thought I would never hear. The sound of death and love and heartbreak all melded into a scream that I knew would signal the start of a war.

Ovailia’s voice rang through the Abby, the sound of Sain’s name on her lips.

Joclyn
jumped in my arms at the name, her heart beating rapidly in recognition. Her silver eyes looked into mine in longing and fear, the pupils growing as Ovailia’s shout rang out again.

“Stay here,” I instructed quietly, the words causing her heart to thump wildly. “Stay under the bed. I will shield you here and keep you safe.”

She said nothing, and for once, I wished she would. I wished she would snap back at me about how I couldn’t tell her what to do or make a joke about the ridiculous situation. But nothing came but a slow nod of understanding.

I looked into her eyes for one more second as another scream tore through the air.

“I love you, and I will always protect you.” It was foolish of me to say, and I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t stop myself. Hearing Sain’s name echo through the Abbey only triggered a million warnings of what was coming, and I wanted her to hear it. I wanted to leave her with one beautiful thing.

I was gone before she could respond. I left the shield over her body as I took off through the door, only to signal for Ryland to follow me. We flew out through the window, my body speeding through the air to land in the large
courtyard, the camps of the Trpaslíks glittering in the forest behind us.

Dirt and rocks exploded into the air on my landing, the ground rocking with my anger at what was unfolding before me.

Ovailia stood in the center of the garden ruins, her feet having taken her out of the Abbey and directly into the path of an escaped pair seeking shelter.

I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw them.

Sain and Wynifred.

Sain was on the ground between Ovailia and
me, his hair long and shaggy, a long beard plastered on his face. He looked even more haggard than when he had sought me out to tell me of Joclyn’s existence. He cried toward Ovailia, pleading with her in Czech, French, and Mandarin only for Ovailia to counter each plea angrily, her arms moving around and tossing a small, weak-looking figure through the air with each gesture.

Wynifred screamed as Ovailia flung her around, her body writhing in pain as she flopped through the air. Wynifred was weak, her clothes dirty and bloodstained, but it was the marks on her skin that yelled danger to me. They were what was causing her pain, not Ovailia.

The jagged spirals and flares had begun to move and shift, the dark black shifting over her skin like a living infection. I knew at once what had happened. When Cail had died his lock on the zánik curse had been removed. The marks were releasing their poison into her body, and after a hundred years, the curse was going to complete itself and end in Wynifred’s death.

Once again, I was going to fail in my task to save someone. After hundreds of years working for me, Wynifred’s sacrifice was going to be for nothing.

“Ovi! Let her go!” Sain’s voice broke through the night air, his back to me as he yelled, his body doubled over as if he had just been attacked, which, judging by the look on Ovailia’s face, I wouldn’t doubt.

“Wyn! You’re hurting her, Ovi!” Sain pleaded as I walked passed him, Ryland’s steps stopping as he lowered himself to help the old man.

“Oh, hello, Ilyan.” Ovailia spoke as if she was simply weeding a garden, not holding Wyn’s body limply by her side. “Look what I found. She looks like she’s hurt, and strangely, I think she remembers everything.”

She held up Wynifred’s small frame just as the girl yelled again. I moved toward her slowly, careful to keep my steps even, my face strong. I could tell by the look in her eyes that Ovailia had snapped. I needed to get Wynifred away from her before she did something stupid.

“It looks like someone hurt Cail. After all his hard work too...poor Cail. Daddy won’t like that.” She smiled at me, her hold keeping Wyn’s body dangling as she yelled.

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you keep things from him. I don’t like it either.” She smiled, her eyes darting between Sain and myself. I knew what was coming. She had no need for a
cover; I had thrown her out of the Abbey. Now she could say what was on her mind. I waited for the onslaught, waited for her to retreat so I could move closer and help Wynifred.

“Don’t you?” I couldn’t keep from answering. I didn’t even try to keep the cutting edge out of my voice. At any
other time, I would have at least tried, but Ovailia was staking her side. She was preparing herself for battle, so I let my maniacal power overtake me for a minute, making Ovailia flinch when she saw the look in my eyes.

“I thought you didn’t like to wake the dead?”

“Maybe you should have let me die,” She yelled, her face coming within an inch of my own.

“I didn’t make that decision for you, Ovailia.” My voice was hard and distant as I took two more steps nearer her.

“Well you will,” she smiled, “Because, I am coming right for you, with your worst enemy on my heels,” she said, her face glowing with the expectation of victory.

I just stared at her as she smiled, her
warning mixed with Wyn’s yells, ringing in my ears. I couldn’t wait any longer.

With one blink of my eyes, I sent her flying, Wyn’s body falling briefly before I caught her and brought her into my arms. Ovailia’s yell rang in my ears as she righted herself, her posture strong as she defiantly faced me.

“Goodbye, Ovailia.” It was all she needed to hear, her smile increasing before she stormed off to disappear into the forest.

I never saw her go. I never took another look at my
sister; I just turned toward the Abbey, Wynifred cradled in my arms. Her yells broke through the night as she writhed, the marks continuing their decent into her soul.

I seeped my magic into her, only to be burned by the powerful magic. The slow death her father had cast against her all those years ago had only become stronger. I withdrew my magic, not even able to numb her pain.

“Ian.” I looked down at her, surprised to hear my code name from the centuries she had spied for me.

“Tell Thom I’m sorry.” She barely got the words out before she cried out incoherently again.

“He’s here, Wynifred.” I am not even sure she could hear me, but I needed her to know that her last moments would not be alone.

I looked back at Ryland and Sain, Sain rushing forward intent to help her in any way he could
, evident on his face. However, I knew it was no use. The curse was too strong. It had only grown stronger with time, and after a hundred years, there was no hope.

I moved into the Abbey as quickly as I dared. I hoped my quick glance had conveyed the danger she was in and the need for them to follow me. Sain’s pulse joined in my wake, Ryland’s falling right into step beside him as I began to run, Wyn’s body hanging in my arms.

I could feel the pulse of Thom’s magic in his room and I knew at once that that was where we needed to go.

My magic pushed open the door to Thom’s room before we had even arrived. I could see him turn, his hair whipping around at the unexpected movement.
The movement alerted him, not the yells. He pulled the tiny ear buds of his iPod from his ears as we entered, the heartbreaking fear slamming into him as he registered who I was carrying.

“Wynifred!” His yell broke through the air like a knife. The sound of her name was loud, and frightened. I ignored him and the panic in his voice as I laid her down on the bed, her eyes closed as she writhed and yelled. The marks continued to snake across her skin, their number decreasing
as they finished the work they had been sent out to do so long ago.

Thom was at her side in an instant, Ryland and Sain taking a place on either side of him as they entered the room. All three of them placed their hands on her, all three withdrawing as the supercharged curse stung their magic.

“That is dark magic,” Sain said, his voice shaking in fear as he cradled his hand against his chest as if he had been burned.

Thom moved to try again when her body calmed momentarily, his hand moving to rest flat against her arm, right against the wiggling marks. I stopped him with one movement, my hand wrapping around his wrist. He pushed against me before looking up, a question in his eyes. Neither of us said anything, my face telling the whole story – there was nothing to be done.

Thom dropped his hand dejectedly, his shoulders sagging as he looked at her. Wynifred still yelled and writhed on the small bed I had laid her on.

“Her memories have returned,” I whispered to Thom as he clung to her hand.

“Cail?” he asked, his voice panicked.

“Joclyn must have killed him when she escaped the Tȍuha. I didn’t think so at first, but only Cail’s death could release Wynifred’s curse. It was either Joclyn or Edmund
who killed him.”

“It barely matters now. Can you bind it again?” I only shook my head.

“Talon?” Thom’s voice was a whisper.

I could only shake my head, I didn’t know.

“He’s gone.” My head snapped over to Sain, his voice scratchy, like sandpaper, against the loud chaos of the room. “He passed five days ago.”

I was sure that my heart had stopped beating. Talon had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We had been raised together, and he had been my guard until the day I dismissed him, on the day of his bonding with Wyn.

I wanted to destroy something. The pain that my loss was creating inside of me made me consumed me, wanting to turn the Abbey to ash, run rampant and rain death through the Trpaslík camps.

I sucked in a breath, willing my soul to move past the pain, to hold the loss deep inside with all the others. I commanded it away from me and forced my upbringing forward, my back straightening as my veins ran icy for a moment.

“Wynifred.” Thom’s voice was calm as he spoke to her, her eyes growing wide with recognition.

“Thom?”

“I’m here,” he whispered as she shifted her weight, her jaw clenching as she tried not to yell, but failed.

“Am I dead?” Wynifred’s voice was deep and strong again, the way I had known it for centuries. She spoke the words through clenched teeth as she cringed against the pain.

“Not yet, sweetie. But I’ll stay here until the end.”

I could feel the sting in my eyes as Thom spoke to her, as he prepared her for what was coming. He clung to her, his hands wrapped around hers as he soothed her the only way he could. His focus was only on her, as was everyone
else’s. Ryland and Sain could only stare with tear-stained cheeks.

It was with a strained heart I realized what I was witnessing. Sain, Ryland, and Wyn had been imprisoned together. They had suffered together. Ryland and Sain’s tears suddenly made
sense; they too were watching their friend die.

“Talon?” Wyn asked, her voice getting weaker.

“He will be there waiting for you. He’s going to be right there...and...and you know who is going to be with him?”

“Rosaline?”

“Yeah, sweetie, she is going to be right there. Right there with Talon. She’s been waiting for you, waiting... for her mommy.” Thom’s voice caught, and I had to look away, I couldn’t think about what he was saying to her, what he was promising.

Instinctively I pushed my magic toward Joclyn, needing to feel her, to feel her magic, to know that she was still okay. My eyes opened wider as I felt her presence right outside the door.

I looked back at Thom’s goodbye to his best friend for only a minute before I moved out the door, finding Joclyn curled up in a ball against the floor, her hands wrapping around her knees and pulling her into a tight fetal position. I dropped to the floor as my hands moved to touch the skin on her shoulders.

Joclyn’s head snapped up at me, her wide silver eyes blazing into me.

“Wyn.” Her voice didn’t shake as she said her friend’s name, the intensity of the word making it clear what she wanted.

“She’s dying, Joclyn.” I ran my finger over her cheek, not knowing how to comfort her or even if she needed it.

I can save her.

I heard her voice in my head. My eyes widened in surprise, but her eyes continued to stare into mine, as if what she had just done was the simplest thing in the world.

“Ryland is in there.” I tried to keep my voice level, not wanting to send her into a panic with the shock I was feeling at just having heard her voice in my head.