Ryland had drawn a Vil?.
The little creature that had given me my mark, his poisonous bite awakening my magic. My hand moved to cover the mark that lay on my skin instinctively.
“Do you like him?” Ryland asked, “I am going to name him Opal, because he kind of looks like a woman, but I really think it’s a man.”
I only half heard what Ryland had said. I couldn’t rip my eyes from the intricate drawing before me. This picture was much more detailed than Ryland had drawn before, more than a child his age should be able to.
“When did you draw this, Ryland?” I asked.
“Last night, it took some time. But it was worth it. See, this is me, holding Opal. I am about to let him loose and he’s going to grow big and strong and destroy an evil wizard. You can be Opal, and I’ll be myself and the wizard, cuz I always wanted to be a wizard...”
“Did you see this somewhere before?” I interrupted him, panicking a bit. “Why did you draw this?”
Ryland screwed up his face and squared his shoulders, upset I wasn’t going to play his game. “I just drew it, Jossy. It didn’t come from anywhere. I thought it would be a fun game.”
“A game.” I ran my fingers over the delicate chalk of the Vil?’s face, careful not to smudge the marks. “Do you know what this means?”
“If you want to be the wizard that’s fine, I just thought it would be cool if...”
“You remember me,” I spun to him and grabbed his tiny little shoulders.
I looked deep into his eyes expecting him to smile and be his old self right away, but nothing happened. He gazed at me like I had gone mad.
“Of course I remember you, you’re right here.”
I stood and wheeled away from him, back to the black door that served as my exit.
“I have to go.”
“You have to go?” he called after me, his little voice upset. “But, you just got here! We have to play the game. Don’t you want to be Opal?”
I turned back to him when I had reached the door, my gut wrenching to see tears in his eyes. “I’ll be back, Ry. Okay? I need to go tell Ilyan something and then I’ll be right back.”
“You promise you’ll come back today?”
“Of course I do.” I ruffled his hair before turning the knob of my door, my eyes opening instantaneously to the brightening apartment.
“Ilyan!” I noticed the empty mass of blankets on the floor and turned to the bed to find it empty. I hadn’t been gone long – less than twenty minutes in the T?uha, meaning it would only have been a matter of minutes in the real world. I stood up and ran to the bathroom door, hearing water running behind it. Steam seeped underneath the door, filling the room with a warm musty smell.
“Ilyan!” I called through the door, knowing he would ignore me the first few times. Ilyan needed his morning showers to wake him up or he was grumpy all day.
“Ilyan!” I called again, this time letting my magic flow through the door to turn off the water. I heard Ilyan swear loudly in Czech before turning it back on. I knew I shouldn’t bug him, doing this would only make him more upset, but I didn’t care. My heart beat uncomfortably, the drawing still visible in my mind’s eye. I knew I shouldn’t dare to hope, dare to dream – but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Ilyan, it’s important!” I tried again.
“Is someone dying?” he yelled back. “Are you dying? Because I think I have reached my quota for saving your life this year!” Yep. Definitely surly.
I kicked my toe against the door and offered up my own brand of cussing. Fine. If he wasn’t going to come out, then I would send the drawing to him. I pressed my palm against the door and sent the image right into Ilyan’s mind. I waited a moment, and then I heard it, a sharp intake of breath. The water shut off and a moment later the door opened to reveal Ilyan, wet, soapy, and only covered by a towel from the waist down. His wet hair fell over his shoulders, dripping down the skin of his chest which was zigzagged with scars. I gulped and looked away. This wasn’t the first time I had seen him like this, but it always made me uncomfortable.
“Where did you get that?” he said, ignoring my reaction to him.
“Ryland. He drew it,” I said, my face breaking out into a wide smile.
“He drew it?” His eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe me. I folded my arms and stared him down.
“Yes, he drew it. He wanted to play a game about it. He didn’t understand what it was.”