“I guess we will have to run as fast as we can.” It might have been a simple suggestion, but it was the only option as far as I could see.
We couldn’t change the plans in formation. Sain needed to stay with Ryland and try to keep his mind somewhat stable. Well, at least stable enough that he wasn’t resorting to self-mutilation. That poor tree was looking a little too battered as it was. And Thom was the only one physically capable enough to drag Dramin through the forest.
“And hope that Ilyan’s plan will work…”
“It will work.” I was confident, while Thom was not, and the loud, obnoxious laugh that rang through the forest proved it. I keep myself from glowering at him.
“Have Ilyan’s plans ever not worked?” I was obstinate, but I didn’t care. His lack of confidence was grating on me. Everything might be dire, but we didn’t necessarily have to act on it … right? “Don’t be so cynical.”
I didn’t know if I spoke more to him or to myself.
Maybe both.
Everything Ilyan had always led me through had been rocky, yes, but successful. That said, this was more than the normal hiccups. This was a drunken man’s belch as far as problems. I wasn’t ready to admit that.
I glowered at him and popped my hip out, ready to chastise and fight him on it. However, as I opened my mouth, another bolt of lightning dragged across the sky. This time, in streaks of red as Ilyan’s magic blended with it in a roar of anger and power from wherever Ilyan and Joclyn waged their war.
I stared at the light, the angry beauty of it tensing through me as my magic roared, rejoicing in what was coming.
We couldn’t wait any longer.
I couldn’t be more excited.
“Time to break out the bubbly and get this crazy train moving.” I gave Thom one last look in warning or irritation—I wasn’t sure—and he moved away, everyone taking their place as if this was some grand orchestrated event.
If only.
I didn’t even dare look at them. I began to run, hoping beyond hope that they were following behind, that they could keep up and that the Trpaslík couldn’t keep up at all.
The ground was rough underneath my bare feet, each little stone, each pine needle and stick pressing into the soft tissue in painful little points. It was more than pain, more than pressure of the foreign objects. It was power.
I had rarely worn shoes up until Ilyan had wiped my mind, and what little power that remained of the fire magic had become uncontrollable. Now, though, I had regained control, I had regained power, and with each slap of my bare feet against the earth, my power spread away from me, fanning through the soil and undergrowth like a virus, searching for magic and burning away whatever traces we left behind.
With Ilyan’s plan carefully laid out in my mind, there wasn’t any question of what we were supposed to do. However, now Thom had planted an obnoxious amount of doubt inside of me, and despite the fact that I could see the red line of Ilyan’s instruction stretch before me, I was suddenly wondering if it was the right choice, if there was a better way.
My jaw locked together in frustration as the doubt and confusion continued to swirl around in front of me while my magic moved through the soil. I tried to focus on it instead of my sudden query, but with how fast I was running, my magic was constantly losing contact with the ground, making it impossible for me to scan very far. Sometimes, I wished I could feel people next to me like Ilyan did or whatever Jos did with her tiny smoke people that grew out of maps.
“Let me at her!” Ryland’s voice ricocheted from behind me.
I ground my heels into the ground in a mad attempt to stop, to rush back and help Sain from whatever monster had erupted from the boy. Dead leaves and dirt streamed before me as though a bomb had gone off in front of me, the thunder snapping above us in a crack of simultaneous light and sound.
I flinched at the eruption, a tree no more than ten yards away going up in flames as I raced back to Sain. Even before I reached them, I could tell this task was going to be impossible. I needed to take lead, to try to watch the forest for attacks, but Sain could barely hold onto Ryland. The boy was fighting him with all his might, his body taking on the same jerking motions it had before, his hands clawing at his hair, his body slamming into the many trees that surrounded us as sparks of color flew from his fingertips.
He himself was a bomb.
“Kill her!” he roared, his voice breaking through the forest so abruptly I was sure someone would hear. “I need to kill her.”
Throwing up a sound barrier in a mad attempt to keep us hidden, I ran at him in a tackle, my shoulder ramming into his chest and taking him to the ground like I was some sort of bulky football player and not the wiry five-foot-three-inch Trpaslík I was.