Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)

It was one of my only memories of my father.

Then, many years later, I found out what magic really was. And just like the firefly, I wished I could just open the jar and let it go free.

I still wanted to think of fireflies as magic. I watched them as they danced outside the window of Ilyan’s room, and I wanted to dance with them, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move my body out of the heavy blanket I had found on the couch. I was too scared to move from the small alcove of stone that looked out onto the balcony.

So I watched the fireflies, and I felt my magic surge and flow through the air, the power wild and unrestrained within me.

My magic flew away from me as I watched, desperate to be out of the small container my body provided it. It flowed through the air and over the yards of the Abbey like water. It fanned away from me and brought back signs and signals from everyone around me.

I could feel the armies that surrounded us and their eagerness for a battle that they knew was coming. I could feel Thom’s joy as he sat next to Wyn, closeted up in his room where I had left them only a few minutes before. I could feel Wyn’s sadness at losing her mate. I wished I could tell her that I could still feel Talon inside of her, but I didn’t dare speak. Not yet.

I had sat with them as Wyn woke up, my eyes closed as I hid myself in Ilyan’s chest. I could feel them all around me. I could feel my father’s magic, I could feel everything. In that tiny room, I was trapped.

As soon as Wyn woke, the questions came, the voices all sounding at once. They asked questions and demanded answers, their voices growing louder and panicking me. The touching followed, my father’s hands on my skin in excitement, Thom reaching out to me in thanks, and though I understood their desires, my body curled into itself. I couldn’t stop the howling that escaped from my chest.

I pushed myself into Ilyan, the only security I knew, and let his comfort take the fear away. I wasn’t ready to talk to any of them. I wasn’t ready to look into my father’s eyes and relive all that had happened since he had left. So instead, my father had hugged me as I sat on Ilyan’s lap and whispered in my ear how much he loved me. Ilyan had passed on my words to him before taking me from the room.

I had crawled to the balcony after he left me, my movements slow as the twitches kept coming, my heart thumping as it continued to struggle with reality.

I kept my magic trained on Ilyan as I watched the fireflies. I pulled his magic through the ?tít in desperation, trying to feel his comfort, to feel safe. His magic was the reminder that I was okay.

Everything was getting clearer, but I still hadn’t broken free. I didn’t think I ever would.

I could feel the pulse of Ilyan’s magic from where he stood with Sain as they healed his son, my brother. I could feel Ilyan’s emotions, the heightened connection giving me access to loose pieces of his thoughts. Ilyan was nervous about me, he wanted to leave, but he was fighting it, knowing he needed to stay there too, that he had responsibilities that he could not ignore.

I felt Ilyan’s anxiety as Sain began to tell him all that had happened. His anxiety triggered my own; my magic surging through him as my own peaked, confusing me as to whether I should calm him or myself.

If I focused, I could hear their conversation. I could pretend to be well enough to be around them but they weren’t alone. There was someone else with them. I knew that if I heard his voice, I couldn’t be sure what I would do.

Ilyan.

I let my magic grow and sent my voice into his head, the word traveling through the ?tít and into him. I wasn’t sure how I had done it the first time. I had sat huddled on the floor as Wyn screamed, and I could feel my magic grow into something that it hadn’t been before. I looked into Ilyan’s eyes and my soul had told me what to do. It didn’t take more of a thought than that.

I felt Ilyan’s excitement increase at my message, his thoughts changing from stress over what he was being told toward me, his thoughts heavy with worry.

I’m fine, Ilyan.

A moment passed as he talked, but soon his thoughts were torn between wondering what I needed and trying to focus on what Sain was telling him.

I stayed still as I felt the ebb and flow of Ilyan’s emotions, small words of his thoughts filtering through. I didn’t know what had caused me to call to him; I knew he would come when he was done. I could feel that conviction inside of him already. Besides, I had my fireflies to keep me company.

My body shook the longer I sat, my hands twitching underneath the blanket. I could feel the anxiety rise, the uncertainty taking over. I focused on the panic, trying to calm it, but knowing it would come no matter what I did.