Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)

I said nothing as I turned and ran down the hall. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to explain. How could I when I had no idea what was wrong? I heard footsteps behind me, knowing they would follow, knowing I could not stop them, but I couldn’t waste time trying. I barely heard them; I could only hear my panicked breathing. I could only feel my heart clunk against the frail bones in my chest. Everything was falling apart inside of me.

I passed the ancient architecture, passed the ornate window I helped set, I passed it all without seeing. I ran without knowing. I followed the beat of my heart, the pull of my soul. My magic had already gone to her – it filled her completely, checking for something I might have missed. She couldn’t just be a shell, she couldn’t.

I slammed the door into my suite open, not bothering to close it, not bothering to say anything before moving into the small side room. Joclyn’s body was still and small on the large couch. She didn’t move, didn’t turn. Could she not hear my heart beat for her? Could she not feel my terror?

When I entered, the room was empty accept for Joclyn. Dramin had obviously gone for something, leaving the large mug of Black Water on the table beside her. I grabbed it without thinking, my fear and worry taking over my better judgment.

“Mi lasko!” My voice was loud. The panic in me scared me. I had never felt this afraid. Hearing my panic so deep in my own ears shook me.

I moved to sit over her, my legs on either side as I lifted her head, settling her into the couch in a more comfortable way. My hand moved to her face, my finger tracing her lips for only a moment before I opened her jaw, her mouth sagging. I placed my fingers just inside, cupping my hand before her mouth, like a bowl, a bowl for poison. I tilted the mug, focusing on the determination in my soul and the steady beat of her heart before I poured the water into my hand, the slope of my skin forming a ramp into her mouth.

The sound of my pain exited my body with a howl of agony and misery. My voice hit stone and glass before bouncing back to me, but I barely heard. The sound of my agony that now shot through my veins only grew before the water had gone from the mug, leaving her face wet and dripping. I yelled as I willed the pain to die down, the burn only growing. I held my hand up in fear, my mouth opening at the sight of the seeping blister that now covered the palm of my hand, my voice continuing to howl at the agony that was threatening to incapacitate me.

This pain was worse than the brands on my chest, worse than the accidental drip on my arm. This was torture. I howled as I collapsed onto her, my body tensing as it attempted to manage the pain that I was now racked with. I held her to me as every muscle seized, as my throat burned with the howls that escaped from me.

The water tugged at me, pulling something out of me and took it into her. The heavy strand of magic moved the pain through me and centered it over the ?tít, over our connection. The burn grew as the water pulled at me, changed me. I could feel her more acutely than I had ever done before, her heartbeat bounced in my ears, her breathing moved over my chest. I felt her inside of me as well as alongside me, my mind aware of her as if I was her. The connection pulled stronger and stronger, unlike anything I had ever felt before or anything I had ever heard of. I focused on it as it grew and encompassed me. The water that flowed through my veins connected with the water that now lived inside of her. It was all I could focus on, her body, her soul, the thin thread of her consciousness that trailed far away, and next to that...the thin thread that connected her to the T?uha. I had found it.

“Mi lasko! Snap out of it! Get out of there!” I could feel her, somewhere deep inside. I could still feel that thread, the clarity of it shining at me like a golden ribbon.

Joclyn’s heartbeat increased inside of me, the sound of my voice increasing the tempo for only a moment before she relaxed again. At least, I hoped it was my voice she was reacting to. Please let her hear me. I said the words to myself, a silent prayer to a silent deity.

“Joclyn! Come back to me!” My tears flowed unbidden as I looked at her still body and felt the slow ache when her heartbeat did not respond. “Joclyn!”

I could feel the bridge that the water had created between us leaving, the strength of the connection moving away from me. I couldn’t stop my movement as I pressed my hands to her face, the angry burn on my hand pressing itself against the soft skin of her cheek.

The strong pulse of her magic surged through the raw skin of my hand at the touch. It rocked through me and my spine straightened, the power rough and violent as it filled me.

I could feel the warmth of her body, the silky texture of her skin, but more than that, I could feel her again. I could feel her inside of me. Somehow the water had bridged me to her, connected my body with hers.