Crown of Cinders (Imdalind Series Book 7) Page 7

  Ilyan’s sweet emotion filled me as the comforting warmth of his magic did, a gift to go alongside the compliment.

  Are you meaning to drown me in sugar?

  Anything to keep my mind off the disgusting behavior of these people.

  The warmth of his magic left at once, the same stress I felt with the first whisper of our connection coming on strong.

  I frowned, not liking the way everything was upsetting him, both of us really.

  The infection my darling father had left behind was spreading out of control.

  The natives are restless. I … I froze, my words ending as a flare of unfamiliar magic pressed against my back. It was a strain of evil I had felt many times before, running along the stone of the walls and asphalt of the road as someone drew closer.

  One of Edmund’s guards and another Trpaslík on watch. Looking for us. For the noise, no doubt.

  I knew she had been too loud.

  Joclyn? Ilyan asked, fear leaching from him, and for good reason. He could undoubtedly feel it, too.

  Now you can be worried.

  Nah, I know you can take them, mi lasko. Let Wyn have some fun.

  Why does everyone think killing is fun? I asked, my heart moving into a tense storm as I closed my eyes. A clearer image of the two Trpaslíks walking down the main road toward us flooded my mind, their heads bowed in low conversation.

  Between Wyn and me, they didn’t stand a chance.

  “Wyn,” I hissed, moving toward her before they came any closer.

  Wyn looked up with a smirk of enjoyment as she read the map of what was coming. Her own magic sensed the evil approaching.

  I might be the only queen in history who didn’t like a good fight.

  You are also the only queen in history fighting has been required of, so that is not a good analogy.

  Whatever.

  We will talk about this later, Ilyan. Right now, I apparently have to supervise Wyn. At least I know she can handle it.

  She can more than handle it, můj kamarád. She can destroy it. Ilyan’s laugh faded away as Wyn bounded right up to me, the wide grin on her face spanning from ear to ear.

  “There are two, one for each of us. Are we playing kill or capture?” she asked, pressing her fingers together like an old-school villain. Well, old-school for me, anyway.

  “Kill and run. I’d rather not attract any more.”

  “Point taken,” Wyn said, popping her knuckles. “As long as I can play a bit.”

  Rolling my eyes, I stood in silence with her, the sound of their steps beginning to echo in the alley around us. The low tones of their quick Czech conversation rumbled over the stone in such a way that I was having trouble parsing certain words, no matter how extensive my knowledge of Czech had become as of late.

  The closer they moved, the clearer their voices became. The reason for their hushed conversation became clear as I heard something that made me second-guess the impending attack.

  “Do you think it will work? Do you think we will be able to dethrone him?”

  “It better. After what he did to Edmund, that dirty Drak deserves to die. He deserves a fate worse than the burning he gave him.”

  Edmund.

  Dirty Drak … Sain.

  Burning.

  Something about that didn’t make sense. Sain doing something to Edmund and burning? I must not have heard him right.

  I moved as close as I dared, my ear toward the street as I listened, staring at Wyn who looked back at me with a mirror of confusion.

  We couldn’t kill them, not now. Something had happened, and we needed to know what. From the way my sight was squirming and burning inside of me, I already had an idea.

  These two had the piece I was missing.

  “The first one to capture wins,” Wyn whispered, her voice low as the power of her magic swelled, the two devils only steps away. “We just need one, after all.”

  “Did you hear that?” The deep gruff of the Trpaslíks voice had barely cleared the air before Wyn stepped out from the shadows of the alley, her hands sparking in warning.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.” She might have been greeting a new client with the honey in her voice. “Lovely night for a stroll, isn’t it?” She popped her hip out, pursed her lips, and flipped the short bob of her hair seductively. The motions were so practiced I knew at once what her game was, and I knew it would work, too. It was far too Charlie’s Angels not to.

  “Wynifred! The dirty traitor! Stand down and be killed, girl.”

  Well, okay, it would have worked if it weren’t for that.

  “Don’t go spouting out labels like that,” I said, trying to keep my voice as calm as Wyn’s as I walked out beside her. Try was the operative word there. I was certain I was shaking far too much. “My friend here has been plagued by the exact same ailment and the pain it causes … Besides, it’s rude.”

  “So rude,” Wyn added, careful not to touch me as I moved dangerously close to her. Our magic, which was already on high alert, sparked from the close proximity. “You’d think your master would have given you better manners.”

  I waited, convinced the anger-fueled tirade Edmund’s men usually met us with would fill the dark. Instead, there was silence mixed with shock, eagerness, and just the right amount of fear. Although, I was positive the fear was more from me. I had exploded most of them outside of Rioseco. Consequently, perhaps the fear wasn’t quite so one-sided.

  “Hello …? She insulted Edmund.” Wyn sighed, upset at the lack of banter. “Where is the growling, the grumbles?”

  “Lost along with their confidence,” I said, smiling as the first attack went free, a bright purple line of magic that flew from my hand and right into the man before me.

  His scream was loud as it hit him in the chest, sending him flying through the air to land about thirty feet away.

  His partner looked between the two of us, looked into the reality of the massacre he had walked into, and turned to run.

  Two steps in, and Wyn’s magic wrapped around him in a visible line of fire, the heat so potent he couldn’t move past it no matter how many times he flung his body against it. He screamed in pain with every impact, collapsing within his prison in a gasping heap of singed flesh, fear filling his eyes as he looked for a way to escape.

  “Can we not maim people we are hoping to get help from?”

  “Information, not help. And I wasn’t maiming.” Wyn’s focus didn’t leave the panicking creature she had captured. “Besides, didn’t you shoot someone through the air? Who’s not maiming now?”

  I thought my eyebrows disappeared into the flyaway bangs of my dark hair.

  Wyn sighed, the roll of her eyes making it clear I wouldn’t let her get away with killing the man. “Fine. No maiming. I already won, anyway.”

  “Only because I attacked instead of restraining,” I grumbled, taking a few steps toward my target. “I didn’t expect you to restrain.”

  “Well, I can play with him later.”

  I couldn’t help the disgusted wrinkle that moved over my face at that.

  “So it’s a win-win.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, turning toward the darkened street where the man had landed, expecting to see his twisted, contorted shape, but nothing was there. There was merely the darkening pitch of the street, the damp road, and the hint of a bloodstain reflecting what little light was left from the day.

  “What in the …?” My magic flared as my fear did, power stretching from me as I searched for the man I had attacked, searched for the somewhat familiar magical footprint.

  He couldn’t have gone far.

  “So, you!” Wyn’s voice boomed from behind me. “You wanna come back with me? I have some really great questions for ya.”

  “Wyn?” I asked as I whipped around, nervous panic filling me as my magic flared. The disappearance of the man’s magical sign ignited into panic as it reemerged, this time right behind me.

  It took me a moment to realize what I was seein
g was not, in fact, reality, but the whispers of a future.

  “Wyn!” I screamed as the repeated shadow of the present flashed after its apparition, the man’s magic already flaring and ready for attack.

  She reacted to my scream, dodging out of the way as her own ability warned her of what was coming. The sudden movement freed her prisoner from his cage, and the man fell as another ribbon of color sped toward Wyn, intent on attack.

  “I told you I would kill you!” the Trpaslík screamed as he attacked again. Mine came a second behind, hitting him square in the chest as Wyn’s attack intersected in a weird array, the hole in her hand sending the color wide.

  The two beams of color converged into one, the brilliant light seeping into his skin like an infection. It swept over him, sending him to the ground in a twitching heap.

  Wyn once again captured her prisoner, her cage stronger as the flames licked around him, the heat and pressure a brilliance in the alley.

  Knowing she could handle herself, I stepped toward the now lifeless man who was misshapen on the ground, his eyes wide and vacant as he stared into nothing, his whole body quivering as our magic devoured him. I guess that was what happened when you met both Wyn and me—a quick death.

  “We really need to be more careful,” I said to myself, unable to look away from the flesh below me that was beginning to bubble and boil.

  “He didn’t explode,” Wyn stated, obviously absentminded as she restrained her prisoner.

  “Yet.” I said the word to myself, pulling away from the haunting way the Trpaslíks body moved.

  “Now are you going to talk to me?” Wyn snapped, a revelry in the attack still winding inside her. I guessed she really was winning. An attack and a capture.

  I laughed to myself, turning back to Wyn and her prisoner.

  The Trpaslíks face was turned up in a wicked smile as he met her dead-on.

  “You say talk like I have another option,” the Trpaslík mocked, the jeering I had expected from earlier clear and vibrant. “I would rather talk than go back to what that blasted man has done.” The man’s obstinance faded to something closer to disgust, a disappointment I never thought I would see on a Trpaslík coloring him.

  “What blasted man?” I asked, the snippet of conversation from before pushing against my heart. My magic flared so powerfully I was surprised it didn’t pull me into sight.

  Joclyn? Ilyan asked in obvious concern.

  I ignored him. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t think beyond the pieces that were slowly pulling together in my head.

  The Trpaslík smiled from behind the fire, his eyes focused on me, the sneer returning with a dangerous light. “You know?” he queried to himself, “I think I’ll keep it all: the answers, the truth, and most of all … my freedom from the hell Sain has created.”

  With that, he walked into Wyn’s cage, destroying his own life before we had the chance to stop him. Wyn screamed in disbelief, and my jaw went slack in confusion, not wanting to believe the possibilities that had made themselves clear.

  RYLAND

  5

  “I heard them over there, Míra!” Risha’s voice rolled over the rubble of the cathedral like the morning fog of the mountains near my old home.

  It was a lone voice, a single haunting apparition that echoed and moved as if it had come from the smoke itself. But I knew better. I knew she was somewhere out there, behind the fog, hunkered down in the dark with her teammate, trying to find a way to capture our flag.

  Trying to get past us.

  We wouldn’t let them.

  Taking one sidelong glance at Jaromir, I nodded once in the direction of our flag, an old Hawaiian shirt we had tucked underneath a large slab of concrete. Perhaps, by sending him to guard it while the girls attempted to defeat me, I would be able to take them out. Then we might have a chance.

  We had won two out of the last three games, and the girls were being ruthless this time. They obviously didn’t want to lose again.

  It was getting late. The sun had already set, which meant they were running out of time to claim a win.

  Jaromir smiled at the silent request, his eyes full of understanding as he scuttled away from me amidst the ruins of the once beautiful cathedral. What little was visible of the formerly pristine mosaic tile was smashed to bits.

  The sound of shifting debris was a distorted resonance in the open space. It rippled against the fog and drifted into the purple sky far above us where the crimson stars danced to the noise.

  Noise I already knew was too loud.

  If they didn’t know for certain where we were before, they did now.

  My heart beat more heavily. I had endured endless battles and terrifying realities, but somehow, playing capture the flag with two unrelenting girls was more terrifying.

  The sound of Jaromir’s footsteps faded as the smoke folded around him, swallowing him whole.

  I stood alone, my hands at the ready, magic buzzing within the heavy pulse of my blood, the panicked energy making my fear worse.

  Silence stretched, so still that, standing there, I could hear the movement of the fog. The whispered rush of fog and smoke that moved through my hair, whispered in my ears.

  Shifting my feet, I turned to look behind me, my heart beating with a painful throb as rocks tumbled away from the small rise I stood on, falling end over end with a clack of sound.

  “You’re supposed to be quiet,” Risha said from behind me, her voice a seductive murmur as the familiar warmth of her magic ran over me with the strength of a hurricane.

  The fog around us moved from the intensity of her power, a deep desire for her rippling alongside.

  My magic longed for hers, as I did. It pulsed with the contact, turning to ice the second the spell took hold, wrapping around me and freezing me in place.

  Immobile, I could feel myself teetering back and forth, unable to hold my balance on the pile of rubble. It was something that was not missed by Risha, who smiled wickedly, stepping around me and upsetting the stones underneath me further.

  “Don’t, Reesh,” I pleaded, grateful I could still speak.

  “Don’t what?” she teased.

  A giggle echoed from somewhere behind her, making it clear that Míra was watching the scene from somewhere in the fog, the density clearing a bit as the magic began to wear off.

  “Save me, Jaromir!” I yelled desperately, all hope lost when both Risha and Míra laughed harder, this time joined by a little boy’s giggle that I knew too well.

  “No!” I yelled, as Risha’s smile hit its maximum, her hand moving forward and pressing against my chest, the tiniest pressure sending me backward.

  Falling, I landed hard against stone and wood, my immobile figure rolling down the tiny hill like Jack must have done with that darn pail.

  I wished I had a pail. Then I could use it as a helmet. I could feel every jagged edge of rock against the soft tissue in my arms and back. Wood and stone hit my face and head with the strength of a battering ram. And while I rolled, I hissed and gasped in an attempt to break free from the bind Risha had placed over me as her malicious laugh echoed throughout the fog. She was quite pleased with herself.

  “We’ve won, Míra!” Risha said, running right up to me and placing her foot square on my rib cage, posing beside me like a big game hunter with a new kill. “I have defeated him, and it was glorious!”

  Míra’s dark, little laugh resonated over the rubble and fog as she ran up to us like a bullet, her arms stretched out like a plane, the frayed floral shirt clutched securely in her fist.

  “We win! We win!” she said, skipping and jumping, her hair waving away the smoke behind her.

  Even oddly construed here on the ground, a smile seeped across my face. It was such an odd occasion to get anything more than a sneer and a glare out of that little girl.

  “Very funny,” I grumbled, still trying to shift underneath the lock that Risha had pinned me with, still unable to move more than an inch.

  Perfect. I
was a lion down for the kill, pranced around by Míra. And to make matters worse, Jaromir joined her dancing and prancing, screaming “We win” right alongside his sister.

  “Hey!” I yelled, my voice distorted, my cheek smashed uncomfortably against a large bit of stone. “You’re on my team, Jaromir!”

  “Not anymore!” The boy laughed with his sister as they danced and played, stone and wood crunching around me in an odd orchestra.

  “Jaromir knows whose side is the winning one, Ryland,” Risha teased as she stepped down from my sore and bruised torso, releasing the magic with the softest touch of her fingers against my face.

  My stomach swooped and spun at the contact.

  “He defected?” I was aghast, my eyes wide as I sat up to face the treacherous child.

  He didn’t even seem affected by the strength of my glare. He laughed harder, his face squishing oddly due to the large kiss on his cheek as he continued dancing behind his sister’s long, blonde curls.

  “Yeah, he didn’t want to lose, I guess,” Risha said, sitting down beside me and trying her best to find a clean bit of rubble to avoid soiling her long skinny jeans.

  I wanted to tell her it was hopeless yet couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “You sent him away, right toward Míra, and we didn’t even have to bribe him.”

  “Ah …” Realization dawned on me more quickly than it normally did. “It was a rookie mistake.”

  “They are a tad bit loyal to each other.” Risha lifted her thumb and forefinger, as if to display the depth of that loyalty. Instead, she framed the children who were still dancing and playing and laughing.

  “Let’s hope that loyalty can switch in other ways before it’s too late.” I tensed. I had spoken out of turn, and I knew it. Risha did, too.

  Her back straightened as much as mine had. It was a very clear rule that we didn’t discuss everything within earshot of the twins. Although I was confident they were both preoccupied enough that neither heard, I could never be certain with them. They didn’t miss much.

  If I had thought Jaromir was attentive, it was nothing compared to Míra.