“Do not fight, Wynifred,” Sain hissed in my ear, the reminder of his sight from only moments ago barely grazing the surface of my panic.
“I will rip him apart, limb by limb, until there is no more blood to shed, until his soul has given up. I will take his soul, Wynifred, and I will use it the way I use Rosaline’s. I will keep it in a place you will never find it. Not that you will be alive much longer than he is.”
“NO!” I fought against Sain, his weak body using up the last of his energy in an attempt to keep me at bay.
“I would do the same to Talon…if he was still alive.”
I could hear Sain mumble behind me. I could hear him gasp as my magic surged under my skin, burning him on contact. But he didn’t budge. He endured the pain as he attempted to keep me safe.
Stay safe Wynny.
My fight left me as Talon’s voice echoed through my head, his words joining Sain’s in a jumbled mess that pulled the fight out of me.
I stopped struggling against Sain’s hold. I looked down to the stone floor of the catacombs, my eyes scanning over the tombs that littered the floor in front of us before I raised my head to look at Edmund.
Edmund smiled at the look in my eye, at the way my lips pursed. He believed he had won – that I would fight him now and he would win. He was a fool to think I was so easily predictable anymore.
I wasn’t who he still thought me to be.
I was Wyn.
My eyes locked with his as I sent my magic surging through the floor of the tomb, the ancient magic in the stone collecting with mine to supercharge the pulse, which hit in a surge that shot him straight into the air.
Edmund yelled as his body impacted with the roof of the tombs, the magic still surging through his body painfully.
I pulled Sain with me as I turned, the lid of Ilyan’s coffin lifting just enough to allow us passage inside.
Edmund’s screams died as we slipped ourselves through the opening, the magical barrier of Ilyan’s protection washing over me as I moved through it.
There was no way Edmund could follow us here. For the moment, we were safe.
“Wynifred!” Edmund yelled. I turned, my eyes peering at him through the gap in the lid. “I will make him pay.”
“I will retrieve both of their souls, Edmund, right before I rip your heart from your body.”
He balked at my statement, his face going white before the lid to the coffin dropped, enclosing us in the dark space.
I listened to Sain’s breathing equalize alongside mine as we waited for a sign that Edmund was trying to follow us, as we waited for his attempt to break through the barrier Ilyan had placed around the tomb.
But none came.
A deep green light flared in Sain’s hand, and I looked toward it, my heart calming to see the relief in his face. We just looked at each other, neither of us having the words for what had just happened.
Sain turned toward the tunnel that opened up behind him, the long dark abyss that would lead us safely underground and right into Italy. His light flickered along the walls of dirt and stone until the tunnel faded into an endless stretch of claustrophobic black.
In any other situation, I would have been scared at seeing an endless enclosed space. Instead, I felt my heart relax at the promise of safety it held for us.
“We’d better hurry,” Sain whispered as he stepped into the tunnel, the first step of a long journey.
I rushed to catch up with him, his words sending ice down my spine.
“What do you mean?” I asked, dearly hoping he hadn’t seen anything else.
“We don’t have a lot of time.” Sain didn’t look at me as he spoke; he simply continued walking, his slow pace taking us straight forward.
“Is he coming?” My voice slithered over my tongue, the fear rushing right back to the surface.
“No,” Sain said as he turned to face me, “but you have less time than I originally thought.”
Sain reached forward and grabbed my left hand, lifting my arm to eye level. I looked at him in confusion, trying to make sense of his words. His eyes darted to my arm.
“Sain?” I asked, my eyes following his to my arm and then returning to him as I tried to make sense of what he was saying.
“Edmund has plans for your brother. We must get you to Joclyn before it is too late.”
Ilyan
Chapter Twenty-Three
The large map of the grounds that surrounded the Abbey took up the majority of the expansive table that stood at the end of the long kitchen. I stood over it, facing the crumbling stone ovens and fireplaces that had once been used by the monks of Rioseco for food preparation. I stared at the map, ignoring the twinge of guilt from using this room as a planning room for the battle that was coming closer and closer.