“Get me Ovailia.” There was a pause after he spoke as he waited for Ovailia to take the phone. When she did, his voice transferred into his native language. The words were full of consonants and deep sounds that rolled off his tongue and into the night air.
My mind wandered off at the sounds, my fuzzy brain not able to understand anything that was being said. It was easier to not focus on anything and instead let myself drift off into the nothingness. I wasn’t in pain now; it almost seemed like the blackness wanted me even more.
“Stay with me, Joclyn.” Ilyan’s voice broke off from his foreign chatter, the change in tongue bringing my mind back. “Focus on my hand. Focus on my voice.” He stared at me intently while waiting for me to agree.
“Ovailia,” he continued into his phone, “we will be returning home within the week. I need to get her body healed enough to travel.” He paused as the person on the other side of the line spoke. I felt my heart soar at the talk of healing me. A hospital and a shot of morphine sounded just about right.
“Tell Talon I will keep her safe.”
Talon? Wasn’t that Wyn’s boyfriend?
“No! Everyone needs to stay where they are. It is only going to cause problems if they empty the motel.”
“Ovailia,” Ilyan snapped, and his accent increased, making his voice difficult to understand. “I ‘ave levt zoo in sharge, ind iv zoo canoot keep zings usser constrol for vun veek vifout my prezzanse ve vill haff to reffink zis arrangement. Iz zat clear?”
He snapped the phone shut and huffed angrily. Even through his angry rant, his hand had still stayed softly on my cheek.
“You’re lucky you don’t have a sister,” he said, his accent lessened. I was confused. I thought Wyn was his sister; perhaps this Ovailia was their sister, too, and they just never mentioned her.
I felt an uncomfortable pain seize through my spine, and my body moved involuntarily.
“We have to move.” Ilyan stated, looking away from me in expectation. He flipped open his phone again and dialed a number.
“Wynifred?”
Wyn? My heart beat erratically at her name.
“We will be there in about an hour. We are in Sunnyvale.”
Sunnyvale? But that was at least a two hour drive. How did we get here?
“I took us here to break the trail, but we cannot stay here long. She is very greatly injured. I need you to draw a bath.”
A bath? Wasn’t he taking me to the hospital?
He snapped the phone shut and placed it back into his pocket.
“Joclyn? We are going to have to move. I know you probably really want to go to sleep right now, but you can’t. Try to focus, all right? Focus on me; focus on my voice. You need to stay awake, for Ryland.”
“Ryland?” My voice came out like a sob; in fact, I was surprised I had even spoken at all.
“Yes, Joclyn, for Ryland. You need to stay awake for him. Can you do that?”
I stared at him intently, hoping my expression would display the yes I felt in my heart.
“Good girl, Siln?.”
Ilyan shifted his weight and moved my rag doll form into his arms, his hand never once leaving my skin. He moved smoothly, his body rocking and jostling me around with each step he took. This sensation was so much different than before; I could feel every step, every time his foot hit the ground.
The steps and swaying increased significantly before the wind returned and the rough movements stopped. I watched through open eyes as stars, street lights and buildings soared past us, faster than I thought possible, the shining orbs becoming blurs in my line of vision. The wind in my hair relaxed me even further and I felt myself move into the ever-present blackness once again.
No! I needed to stay awake for Ryland… and for me. I would never be sure, but I swear my arm jumped uncontrollably as I tried to force myself out of the comfortable warmth that the blackness provided.
“It’s okay, Siln?,” Ilyan said, his accent rolling out his vowels again.
I did want to believe that, but everything was so confusing. Even in my foggy, hazy mind, I was having trouble understanding what was going on. I couldn’t get the images of flying furniture, my aggressive attackers and my mother’s body out of my mind. My heart shuddered at the thought of my mother’s limp form. It sounded more like I called out to her. Ilyan looked down at me, shocked to see me looking at him.
“Your mother?”
My eyes grew wider.
“I’m sorry, Joclyn. I wish I would have gotten there earlier. I wish I could have saved her.” He looked down at me again, and I saw the sympathy hidden in the chasm of his eyes.