I nodded before looking down at my lap. “The warmth,” I sighed. “I pushed you out the first time you tried to heal me because Ryland’s m… magic…” I struggled to get the word out. “It had just left me and I was scared.”
“The day we went to the fire pit,” Wyn interrupted, her voice low, “he healed your hand after you hit him, he used his magic to calm you when you were jumping over the fire, and you… you used his magic to help you climb the tree.”
“What?”
“When you climbed the tree,” Wyn continued, “you drew his magic off him and used it to sharpen your senses. It’s why you are so fast. Why it feels so natural.”
“Ryland did it all without knowing that you possessed your own unharnessed power,” Ilyan continued. “So the more your magic mingled, the more they became dependent on each other, the more they became one. When Ryland gave you the necklace, he made it so that his magic would always be close to yours, and with that, he inadvertently sealed your fate. He permanently fused the magic, and in turn, your lives together.”
“What are you saying? That Edmund could infiltrate my mind as well?” I couldn’t keep the panic from seeping into my voice. I needed to save Ryland, but now it wasn’t just him—it was me as well.
“I do not think it will come to that,” Ilyan said. “Mostly what this means is that you can draw off each other. In essence, your magic cannot survive without his and vice-versa.”
“In the apartment,” Ilyan spoke solemnly, “it was Ryland controlling his magic through the necklace that saved you. In the alley, it was his magic that was taking the pain away. He consciously saved and protected you, even though his father was torturing him at the very same time.”
“Torturing him? But in the dream he looked okay… Why does he look like he has been beaten, Ilyan? What’s happened to him?” My thoughts strung together before settling on the brutal image of him that still flooded me.
“He has been beaten, Joclyn; possibly more than the television images show us. They can cast a spell on him, make it appear that he is not as injured as he is,” Wyn spoke plainly, the truth cutting me.
“What worries me the most,” Ilyan added, “is that Edmund is not allowing Ryland to be healed, or even allowing him to heal himself. He is kept in pain to weaken him, so that he doesn’t fight back.”
“Pain?” I asked, remembering my first assumption that he looked like I had felt the last few days.
“Yes, Joclyn, agonizing pain. Almost the same type of pain you felt when you first received your kiss. He feels that every second of every day and must live with it.”
“But he didn’t look like that… in the dream, I mean.”
“That’s because you were seeing with your heart.” I turned to Ovailia’s acidic voice. “If you had taken the time to see with your mind, you would have seen the true extent of his injuries. Then perhaps we could know with more certainty how much time he has left.”
“Enough, Ovailia,” Ilyan commanded, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from her.
“So, Ryland is dying inside. His father is trying to delete his mind. So when you say he has maybe two weeks—”
“I mean in a week, maybe two,” Ilyan whispered, “Ryland will be no more. He will only be a shell to be manipulated by his father.”
I clutched my necklace, pressing the cold stone against my chest. I felt my heart beat wildly against my fingers. Once again, the mark had destroyed everything, everything I needed and wanted within my life. However, this time I knew the truth; the mark had truly given me the power to get everything back, the power to fix it.
“I will save him.” My voice was quiet, but still confident. I knew I would do whatever it would take to save Ryland, to honor my mother, to change my life.
“I know,” Ilyan whispered.
I turned to him, unsurprised to see that wild anticipation and crazy confidence he had had in the car. It wasn’t the joy I had originally mistaken it to be, though.
It was power.
TwentyOne
Ilyan had excused himself a short while later, saying that there would be a council in an hour, and he needed to prepare. Ovailia had followed close behind him, her nasally voice whining about something I didn’t understand. The second the door had closed, Wyn rushed to me, flinging her arms around me in a tight bear hug.
“I am so sorry, Jos, so sorry. If we could have gotten you out earlier, this never would have happened. If we…” Her voice caught and I could tell she was crying. I returned the hug, my arms hesitantly wrapping around her.