And there wasn’t just one.
I stifled the fear that tried to incapacitate me and let my magic jump from Trpaslík to Trpaslík as I registered the pulse, each one connected. What was more, the magic that I was feeling didn't belong to them, either.
My eyes flashed open at the realization, Ilyan’s stony face greeting me as his worries washed over me.
“There are six of them.”
“And their magic is all the same?” Ilyan asked, his magic pulsing in excitement. I cringed at the feeling, the way his mind relished the idea of the coming battle, and I pressed my hand further into his.
Yes.
“It is the forward guard,” Ilyan said as he stood to face Wyn, her jaw tensing at his words.
I didn't quite understand why the tension grew; after all, it wasn’t Edmund himself. On the other hand, Cail had been the forward guard. It was just like when I was trapped in Cail's mind; Cail always came first. Except this time, Cail was dead, and Edmund had sent others to clear the way.
“If he has sent six, then he will be here soon. If I can get closer,I could tell who it is, what their attack plan is—”
“You are not strong enough to fight yet, Wynifred,” Ilyan interrupted her wild excitement, his order heavy as he moved back to the map. “I will not allow you to take that risk.”
“Yes, My Lord,” she said in obvious irritation, her hands writhing against the dark wash of her jeans.
“I need you to wake everyone, Wynifred,” Ilyan said, the deep base of his imposing voice rumbling over the room as he kept his focus on the large paper. “Tell them to strengthen their portion of the shield and inform them that we will be meeting in the dining hall at ten.”
“Ten? Why so late? If he is coming, we don't have time…” Wyn began as she hastily moved toward Ilyan. Her movement was stopped by one sharp glare from him. His eyes were like ice as he stared into her, the message clear. Do not defy him. I swallowed heavily at the cold steel in his eyes, the heartless color unfamiliar to me.
“I need everyone there, Wynifred, and I will need to prepare Joclyn to meet Ryland face to face. Please tell Sain to do the same.” Ilyan’s frosty eyes bored into her, his tone making it clear that there would be no more discussion.
“Yes, My Lord.” Wyn nodded once before she curtsied, her eyes still downcast when she turned to leave the room. She only looked back at me when she turned to close the door, a wide smile on her face. It was the first sign in the last few minutes that she was still my best friend.
I just stared at her, unsure of what to say, until the door closed, and I could feel her magic scurry away as she ran to do what Ilyan had demanded.
I watched the door long after she had left, trying to ignore the discomfort that was winding up my spine. I didn’t belong here. I only felt out of place.
Lately, I had always felt comfortable with Ilyan; everything between us felt so natural. However, hearing him command Wyn in atone so different from any other time, the look in his eyes—a defiant glare that had almost sacred me—I felt like a lowly servant who had stolen kisses from the king.
Which was essentially what had happened.
I looked toward the bathroom, seeing nothing as I listened to Ilyan work behind me. I was content to look anywhere other than at Ilyan until I could figure out what had just occurred.
“My love,” Ilyan said from behind me, the tenderness in his voice almost catching me off guard. “I need you to show me where they are.”
I sat still for a minute before sliding off the bed, knowing I couldn’t ignore him for long while truly dreading being ordered to do anything by someone I had viewed so tenderly.
The stones were cold on my bare toes as I walked toward him, my eyes focused on my feet as my heart pounded in my chest. I walked right up to the map, my eyes scanning over the surface before I pointed to the spot way off to the east where I had felt the guard.
“Here.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
I kept my focus on the map, even though I knew Ilyan was no longer looking at it. I could feel his eyes on me—feel him move closer to me—but I held still, my head hanging low.
He came up right beside me, the soft pads of his fingers trailing over my jaw as his magic surged into me, mine swirling comfortably in greeting. I closed my eyes at the touch, happy when he didn’t try to calm me, leaving me only with the comfort of his magic, like a hot water bottle against a chill.
With the softest of touch, he pulled my chin up to face him. I opened my eyes, unsure of what I would see, only to be met with eyes different from what I had seen before, the color almost calming.
“What is wrong, my love?” he asked, his concern taking my breath away.