Crown of Cinders (Imdalind Series Book 7) (27 page)

The other Skȓíteks on the hill began to gather around us, the power of his voice pulling them in.

“The city is in ruins, and the camp of Edmund’s Chosen is in battle. From what Joclyn could see, they are attempting to dethrone Sain. If we go in under the cover of this disaster, we will be able to find the man and destroy him.”

“If the Trpaslíks haven’t already,” Wyn said with a smile. An out of place pride for her race was smeared over her face, the light in her eyes far more frightening than I had ever seen. I didn’t think I had ever seen her quite so quick to claim her heritage before. It would have been awesome if she didn’t look so dangerous.

I fought the need to step away from her, to step away from the power that was radiating off her. Ry and Thom’s exchanged glances pulled me right back into the battle that was steps away.

“There,” Ilyan continued as he turned, pointing his long finger toward a camp on the other side of Prague.

The large plot of Edmund’s tent city lay beyond where the barrier had been, just as I had seen in sight so many months before. The tents were as destroyed as the city, smoke rising up from flames that were quickly spreading. And in the middle, there was a large ring of canvas and metal. The structure was so large I couldn’t understand how Edmund had hidden it.

“The stadium,” I gasped. The image from my sight flashed again and again as I stared at the massive structure, watching a swarm of Vilỳs move into it.

“What is it?” Wyn asked, coming up beside us as she looked over the city, her jaw dropping as mine had.

“It’s where Sain is,” I said, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough of an answer, but she didn’t seem to care in that moment.

She kept her eyes forward, glowering at the offending building alongside the rest of us, glaring at the city that was covered in a sea of brown.

“Maybe a nuke isn’t such a bad idea,” Ryland whispered, standing on the other side of Ilyan, his face as angry and upset as both of his brothers’.

This time, Wyn laughed, the sound a devilish growl that cut through me. “I think I know where I can get one.”

“Our battle begins today,” I announced, cutting Wyn off before she got any more ideas and then turning toward the other three. My golden ribbon spun through the wild snow with the snap of my movement. “Sain will be dead by nightfall. I don’t care who does it or how, but we need to work together. We need to save as many lives as possible.”

Wyn was silent as she stood in the snow, wearing nothing except her worn jeans and a band T-shirt I had seen way too much of since we had been trapped here. The heavy fur she had covered herself with lay in a drift of white by her feet. The snow that landed on her skin evaporated back into the air with a hiss, the sound barely heard over the wind.

“Our queen is right,” Ilyan said with a nod, moving between us all as he began to issue orders.

The few Skȓíteks who were still with us broke away as he ordered them into the city, into the Vilỳs in an attempt to save as many mortal lives as possible.

His words washed over me as my focus was already pulling back into the recall of the sight once again, the blue light hovering above the pool just out of reach. I needed to get there; I could feel it. The need to get there was ripped away from me as the recall shifted, taking me right back to that night in the forest and to Sain who had seemed more than willing to watch me die. To fight beside me. Now I had a disgusting feeling that he might have enjoyed that moment. He might have enjoyed watching Cail slit my throat.

The thought twisted my stomach into angry, little knots.

Two years ago, I wanted nothing more than to have my father back. Now I wanted nothing more than to have him dead. I didn’t know what kind of person that made me—to think of killing my own father so callously.

If he was a good father and a decent man, then I might say you are evil. But he is not this man, and removing what he is from our kind will save us, not harm us
, Ilyan said, his voice a calm warmth as he turned from the last of the Skȓíteks, a man and woman who took off into the sky on an unknown task.

Ilyan stepped toward me, his eyes smoldering as he wrapped his arms around my waist. His lips hot against my forehead, he pulled me into him.

I know, Ilyan. I shouldn’t be questioning this.

“The barrier is down; nothing is stopping us,” Wyn said, pulling me from my worries as she came right up to Ilyan and me, dragging Thom with her. Poor Ryland looked irritated as he followed behind. “What’s the plan?”

“We need to find Sain,” Ilyan began, his magic surging inside of me from the exhilaration of the moment. “I have a feeling that, based on what Joclyn saw, we need to find and secure Ovailia, as well—”

“Secure her?” Ryland interrupted, his green tint increasing as his anger boiled over.

“That better be a fancy word for
kill her
,” Thom snapped.

At least I knew his volatile anger hadn’t been affected by his three-month long coma sabbatical.

“Agreed.” Ryland glanced toward Thom appreciatively. Both seemed happy to have an ally.

I wasn’t really looking forward to this. I had seen Thom and Ilyan duke it out over Ovailia already, and adding Ryland to the mix seemed far too unpredictable.

“She doesn’t deserve to live, not after what she has done,” Ryland stated.

“I do not disagree with you, but she is our sister,” Ilyan announced as if the simple statement was enough to put the debate to rest.

Ryland and Thom fumed more, and I took a step back on habit. This was not my fight, and I was not interested in joining in. Besides, I wanted her dead, too. Dead before she could reach Ilyan. I knew Ilyan would not approve of that.

“Edmund was our father,” Ryland said, his voice shaking. “And Sain is Joclyn’s. That doesn’t change anything.”

“Killing nine people instead of ten does not give her reason to live, Ilyan,” Thom retorted, his chest puffing out in irritation.

“Hey!” Wyn interrupted with a snap, her magic fuming as her eyes grew darker than night. “Watch who you are judging about ‘the number of kills.’ ”

Thom wilted underneath her retort, his mouth opening wide and his will to fight disappearing with a snap and a grunt. His nostrils flared in an attempt to conceal his anger.

Ryland looked between them in confusion, his anger rising due to the sudden abandonment of his partner in crime.

“Wynifred is correct.” Ilyan nodded once toward her before stepping back into the center of all of us. “I am not saying she will not meet her end. But she has done good for us in the past—”

“For her benefit,” I interrupted him without thinking, tension moving within my chest in sudden regret.

Ilyan gave me a sidelong glance, his irritation at my outburst clear.

Rolling my eyes, I looked away, feeling even worse because of the supportive looks from Thom and Ryland gave me.

“Capture Ovailia if possible. Kill her if you must. We have had enough death, and it would do well for us to limit it,” Ilyan continued, his voice a hard line of authority.

I suddenly wished I could melt right then and there.

Ryland said nothing more than a grumble. Thom’s lips were a tight line as his eyes met their brother’s head-on. Ilyan was a good head taller than them both, but it didn’t seem to faze them. I, however, stood silently to the side, carefully blocking my mind from Ilyan, grateful he was focused on something else for the moment.

I knew he meant well. I knew the fear of losing his sister, of losing his family. Hell, I had just buried my brother. However, I couldn’t stand by and watch her kill him. If it meant saving his life, I would gladly end hers.

“Once again,” Ilyan continued, the power in his voice deflating the two men before him. “We need to find Sain and apprehend Ovailia and possibly Míra—”

“Wait. Míra’s alive!” Ryland interrupted with a snap.

This time, he was silenced with one look, Ry’s jaw snapping closed. I had a feeling, judging by the anger that was moving within Ilyan, the motion wasn’t entirely his choice.

“Yes, and we are running out of time. People are dying, Ryland. We can’t argue this anymore. We need to move.”

“Let Thom and me find Sain,” Wyn interjected, obviously willing the conversation forward. “We will find him, Ilyan. You know we will defeat him.”

Ilyan smiled, a wicked gleam of power clear in his eyes. The altercations of before seemed forgotten as the two of them stood there, grinning like fools at the possibilities.

Wyn’s magic mounted into a flame that heated the air, melting the snow from the sky and burning the grass around us into shriveled black points.

“Watch it, Wyn,” I said, stepping away from the ring of energy before it hit me. “We’ve already destroyed a barrier today; I’m uncertain how much more we can do or if we want anyone finding us up here.”

“Point taken,” Wyn concurred, withdrawing her magic with a snap, her bracelets jangling with the movement.

“You and Thom will have your chance, Wyn. I need you and Jos to stutter into the camp on the other side of Prague.” Ilyan turned back to the still smoldering tents, the power in his eyes matching the flames that licked the air. “Then I will fly in with Thom and Ryland. When you find him, Joclyn will guide us to you.” He was alive with the idea, exhilarated for what was to come.

Wyn’s face, however, fell as soon as he said
stutter
.

“As fun as that sounds, I’d really rather not be ripped into a million pieces and rearranged. There wasn’t any teleportation in
Firefly
, and I think there is a reason for that. I stand with Captain Mal.” Wyn’s face was as pale as the snow that surrounded us.

“Actually,” Thom said, his voice the deep grouch that I knew from him, “there is quite a lot of teleportation in
Firefly
. Both in the battle—”

“Come on, Wyn,” I said with a smile, stopping that argument in its place. We really didn’t have time for it. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Wyn glared in response, the look split between Thom and me. Obviously, she didn’t agree with me nor him.

Thom glowered deeper, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head, his long dreads clumping awkwardly.

“Do you really think that’s wise, Ilyan?” Ryland asked, his eyes wide with a fear I didn’t quite understand. “That involves touching, right?”

Oh, yeah, that.

“Don’t worry, we’ve done this. And all without destroying the alley we were in. I’m pretty sure we will be explosion free, Ry.”

Ilyan’s lips twitched into a smile, his eyes moving between the two of us, humor clear on his face. “Well then I guess we shouldn’t worry then. And seeing as Sain was terrified when he saw Wyn, alive, in Prague two weeks ago; there is something there. If you two can restrain your magic for a second of time, then I am sure you will have the best chance of keeping him at bay until the rest of us get there, if not defeating him altogether. I know Wyn considers herself first in line to destroy him.”

“If all I have to do is restrain myself for a minute in order to kill Sain,” Wyn said, the fire coming back into her eyes, “then I can do that … for Rosy.”

“And Ovailia?” Thom asked, the growl in his voice making it clear that he wanted no one connected to his father’s murder to survive.

“She will find us, Thom,” Ilyan said, the irritation swinging right back into his voice. “She will be allowed to live until a trial can be held.”

Thom glowered, clearly hoping for a different outcome, one he was not going to get.

“You better find him fast, Joclyn,” Thom warned, his eyes still focused on Ilyan. “Someone needs to pay.”

I knew he was talking to me, but I barely heard. My mind was too focused on the sight, on that moment in the cave that had haunted me for so long.

My recall slammed into my head, putting pieces together where they didn’t belong.

Ovailia disheveled in Imdalind.

Ovailia killing Ilyan.

Ovailia searching for Imdalind.

Ovailia needing a blade.

Everything flashed before me, each piece out of place, not quite fitting together.

I knew there was something I was missing, but I didn’t know what.

It will be fine,
Ilyan interjected, his voice strong, although I could sense the worry in his soul.
Even if she tries to destroy me, I can face her. I have before.

I looked at him, wishing desperately that it was enough. It wouldn’t be, not really. Not with the way his blood-soaked body kept replaying in my mind.

Ilyan smiled, anyway, running his finger down the side of my cheek. The touch that was meant to be comforting filled me with more fear, instead.

I couldn’t lose this.

I couldn’t. I had to do something.

“Ready?” Wyn asked, slipping her shoes and socks off, leaving the bright red Converse sitting alone on the ice-covered grass, the kitten socks balled up on top. “I can’t say I’m eager to be massacred by your teleportation magic, but if it gets me closer to Sain …”

“Be safe,” Ilyan said, bending down for one quick kiss against my jaw bone. “Don’t go ripping a hole in time and space.”

“Why do I have a feeling this is going to end very badly?” Thom asked, his voice lost to me due to the fear and the focused look I was giving Ilyan.

“Be safe,” I said to him, knowing he would take it seriously, knowing he knew what I meant.

Without looking away from him, I grabbed Wyn’s arm, my magic flaring against hers as I pulled her into the stutter. The sound of her screams followed us into the camp on the other side of the city, a million more joining hers.

“Yep, I still hate that,” Wyn gasped as she tripped over her own feet, doing her best to stay upright, something that was very needed right now.

I had stuttered us right into a battle. Everything around us was chaos. From on top of the hill, I hadn’t realized it was so bad. Being down here … Everything was exploding.

Tents were on fire; Vilỳs were ripped apart bodies left and right; mortals and Chosen ran past tents to get away from the creatures that would stop at nothing to destroy them.

“Here.” I pulled Wyn into one of the few remaining tents, the canvas ripped and burned in places. I knew it wouldn’t last long, but it would last long enough for me to find out where Sain was, and that was all I needed.