As Ilyan threw me away from him again, I understood; all trace of fear was gone. I knew exactly what to do. I grabbed the wind that Ilyan had surrounded me with and pushed it another way, my body moving alongside it as I controlled it.
This was the feeling I got when I climbed the trees with Ryland; this supreme happiness and freedom. It was just as Wyn had said; I had used Ryland’s magic to climb the trees, except now, it was my magic giving me those same feelings. Even though I missed Ryland’s comforting warmth, there was something empowering behind doing it myself.
“Now catch me,” Ilyan’s voice called after me. I turned my head to see him speeding away through the trees in the opposite direction from where I was headed, dodging in and out of the high branches. I laughed happily before easily changing my course to fly after him. Ilyan moved swiftly, his powerful arms propelling him further, his wind racing him ahead of me. He moved with an ever-increasing speed as he changed his course several times. His smiling face continued to look back at me as I desperately tried to catch up to him. I followed behind, not making much headway before he changed his course yet again.
As he moved, I saw a path that would give me a straight shot right to him. I smiled at the idea of winning the game before plunging myself down into the lower branches of the tree. It was harder to move here with the branches growing smaller and closer together, but being out of sight gave me the opportunity to cut across a corner that led straight to him. I broke out of the lower branches, a rush of wind pushing me up to where Ilyan flew. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing him off his course, and slamming us into a large branch of a tree.
“Got you,” I said.
I rolled onto the branch as my body began to register the effort that was involved in not only flying, but also propelling through branches. I leaned up against the trunk of the tree and looked at where we had ended up, my breathing ragged and forced as I attempted to catch my breath.
“Very good,” Ilyan said. He leaned forward and placed his hand gently against my face. I stiffened as his warmth moved into me, moving right to my back. It spread comfortably down my spine, wiping away the small aches that had popped up from our impact.
“I didn’t break my back again, if that’s what you’re checking.”
“I know, but it’s always best to double check.” He smiled before removing his hand, letting his fingers trace the kiss again.
“Why do you do that?” I said, moving swiftly away from his touch.
“Do what?”
“Touch my kiss. It seems you take every opportunity to touch it.”
He withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you?”
“Not as much as it should, I suppose,” I lied; it actually made me very uncomfortable, like he was touching me in an intimate way. “When Ryland touched it, I kind of blacked out. Why doesn’t it do that with you?”
“Because you are not bonded to me, Joclyn. I am not your mate and so our bodies don’t react.”
“Mate?” I exclaimed, terrified.
“Yes, Joclyn. The Z?lství, remember? Everything just has a different name.”
I nodded my head like I understood, but my stomach still spun. Mate? I was sixteen, barely.
“So why do you keep touching it?” I asked, freaking out a little bit. “You don’t expect the same thing to happen, do you?”
Ilyan laughed, which I should have been happy about, but instead it only made me feel really embarrassed.
“No, Joclyn, you don’t have to worry about that. I am only here to protect you. It’s just…”
“What?”
“It’s just been so long since I have seen one, since my father… My father had a kiss just as you do, did you know that?
“Your father? But I thought you were a… a... Skry…” Darn it, I had forgotten the word.
“A Sk?ítek, Joclyn.”
“I thought you were a Sk?ítek?”
“My mother was. My father was a Chosen Child, just as you. So I guess I am kind of a half-breed,” he said.
“A half-breed… who is king of the Sk?íteks?”
Ilyan nodded at my connection. “My father ruled over all magical beings for a time, many years ago. So, I guess you could say that I inherited the title.”
“Your father was king? Of the Sk?íteks?”
“More along the lines of king over everyone. In that time, there was no true segregation.”
“What happened to him? Did Edmund kill him, too?”
Ilyan hesitated, looking away and running his hands through his straight hair.
I instantly regretted asking the question.
“My father was the first person that Edmund destroyed,” he clarified.
TwentySeven