Soul of Flame (Imdalind Series #4)

I grit my teeth and closed my eyes at the thought, not liking how my mind accepted the idea as rational. I pulled the vivid image of Ilyan’s dream to mind, letting it settle my nerves for the hundredth time in half as many minutes.

The meeting had to almost be over; Ilyan had told me it would only be an hour, and I was sure that we had almost reached that. Although for all I knew, it had been only ten minutes. I let my focus wander from Ilyan’s fingers as they traced over the map to the rows of tables we were surrounded by. Most of the wooden surfaces had been worn smooth over centuries of use while others looked like they had been hewn only recently.

I was sure it had to be a kitchen, either that or ancient monks needed a lot of fireplaces. The large, rounded stone alcoves were evenly spaced along the wall behind us, each ancient outcropping covered with ash and soot. So, a kitchen, although the lack of chairs seemed a little odd. Only two tables had chairs, and they were stacked…

“Joclyn,” Ilyan said, making me jump, my attention pulling from my temporary distraction to look at him. “I need to know how many camps lie along this stretch here.”

Ilyan asked the question with that same loud boom of command that I had heard this morning, and I almost wanted to deny him and give my imprisoned anger some type of an outlet. However, the last thing I wanted was another fight, so I closed my eyes, swallowed my pride, and sent my magic away from me, my mind searching through trees as my magic gave me sight to what was miles away.

I let it pulse and surge until I had a clear enough understanding of the land. Then I opened my eyes, grabbed the pen from Ilyan’s hand and wrote in the single camp that had been missing from the map.

“This might work,” Ilyan said, letting his finger drag over the paper and leaving a glittering trail of red behind. “If they leave this space untouched, you,” he glanced over at Thom, “and Wyn should be able to get Ryland and Dramin through here without much of a mishap. From there it is a straight shot home.”

“Do you think there will be enough space there?” Thom asked, his finger tracing over the line that Ilyan had just made to stop at a small line of camps not far from their path. “All it would take is one Trpaslík to find us, and we would be toast.”

“Excuse me,” Wyn said loudly, her voice bubbling in agitation. “I can feel a Trpaslík if they come, and I am quite capable of protecting all of you, in case you have forgotten.” Wyn smiled slyly at Thom in dissent, her hand dropping from Ryland’s to flatten against the map as she leaned toward Thom.

I half expected him to take a step back from the wicked look that Wyn was giving him, but he held his ground, shaking his head and laughing, the sound almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I have not forgotten; I still have the scar, thank you. I just do not wish you to push yourself too far, so soon.”

The sincerity of his tone caught me off guard. Thom had always been calm and soft spoken, but the way he spoke to her was different, kinder, more loving. My head snapped toward him and I looked into the long, thick strands of his dreads, feeling the soft waves of his magic whisper through the air. My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline as I tried to figure out what was going on, and what scar he was referring to. Hadn’t they only met a few days ago?

Thom held still as he looked at her. Wyn’s posture softened further as her face broke out into a wide, playful smile.

“I am fine, Thomas,” she said, her eyes glimmering with her sass.

“I need all of you to travel with them,” Ilyan continued as if the exchange hadn’t happened, his deep voice attempting to pull everyone back on track. Almost everyone turned back to Ilyan, but I stared at Wyn until I caught her eyes.

Typical silent girl talk was not going to cut it; I could tell already. No matter how many times I heightened my eyebrows at her in question, she only got more flustered, the reaction increasing my confusion.

“I will need Wyn and Sain to help keep Ryland in check and, Thom, you will need to move Dramin.” Ilyan’s voice echoed off the stone as Wyn’s head snapped back over to him, her eyes brightening in anticipation.

“That still doesn’t answer how you will keep the mass amounts of Trpaslíks away from us? We can’t possibly fight if we are carting invalids around,” Thom said, his voice back to his hard scoff.

“Joclyn and I will draw them away…”

“So she gets to fight,” Ryland interrupted Ilyan with a loud snap, his voice hard and accusatory. Ilyan withdrew his hand from the map as I cringed, the sound of Ryland’s anger igniting the mania that I was trying so hard to control. “You are going to take a weak Drak and leave me behind, aren’t you, brother?”

“You are not fit to fight yet, Ryland,” Ilyan said in a deep rumble that I could tell he hoped would calm his brother, even through the ripples of anger that flowed off Ryland.