Crown of Cinders (Imdalind Series Book 7) (6 page)

BOOK: Crown of Cinders (Imdalind Series Book 7)
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“I did say
all
. Not
all
of us have gone crazy,” Wyn mused, a deep sigh coloring the words as she pulled out another box, inspecting the label with a squint. “But all the ones who follow Sain have. Seriously, how can you look at that crazy and still follow it around? Gah!”

“Maybe he cursed them all to see me as a giant, moth-eating lizard.”

“And him a romance novel model. Crazy nut-bags, the lot of them.”

“Romance models or Sain’s sheep?” I asked, entertained by the image of both.

“Both. You’ll see once you kill Edmund, free us all from the dome of doom, predict the future, and save the world. They’ll all come to their senses and see how dumb they are being. Not all in that order, of course,” she added as a desperate afterthought, wagging her finger in my face in warning as she winked.

“Oh, well, if I don’t have to go in order, then it seems
much
more manageable!” I couldn’t help the eye roll, something Wyn laughed at.

“You wait. You’ll do it. The ‘sight said so’ and all that jazz.” Wyn turned away from me, back to the dumpster and the task at hand, still not very quiet about it.

Trying to ignore the rhythmic clanking of glass and cardboard, I turned away, keeping my magic trained on the city in case someone decided to hear this racket and come running.

The red tint of Prague was fading into a bruise as the night stretched over it, a cloak that dragged over the city and dipped into the alleys in a deep purple that swallowed everything in a dangerous pitch.

We were running out of time, we couldn’t stay out here much longer. The shades of sunset we were bathed in were especially beautiful if you could ignore the danger the dark held.

“It’s almost sunset,” I began, walking back toward the pile of old office supplies she was wading through. “Do you think you can wrap it up in about five minutes?”

I hated asking the question, and I could see her shoulders tense up from where I stood. Her muscles were defined underneath the threadbare band shirt she wore. Jefferson Starship’s faces were all faded and distorted from years of washing and wearing.

“Well, you know, if finding this crap wasn’t so difficult, I would have found it months ago …”

“Point taken. You could always tell me what you are looking for.” I prodded gently, hoping not to enrage her with the question I had asked multiple times before. We had been out looking for the mystery medicine before, and her answer was always the same.

“Why? So you could go off and find it before me? No, thank you. If I tell you, you could go using your sight and finding it for me. I have to do this myself.”

I was met with the low dejection of an already impending defeat, a buzzing sadness that infected me and chased all of my fears away.

Wyn stood before me, broken and folded like a paper doll, every fear and vulnerability inside of her encompassing the alley like butter, in plain view for me to see, to understand.

And I did.

“I wanted to be the one to save him, Jos. Save him before the girl kills him. I have to do something, and lately, I haven’t been able to do anything other than put everyone’s lives at risk and destroy Ilyan’s precious cathedral and disobey orders—”

“You saved me from my father.”

“True.” The paper she was made up of straightened a bit, the snide, confident girl who had plowed her way into my life becoming more visible. “Sain’s an idiot, though. He’s probably going to kill himself soon if he’s not careful. Accidental maiming on a coat of armor or something.”

I laughed at the imagery that was far too good to pass up.

“Let me do this, ’kay?” she pleaded, the desperation in her showing.

I nodded, understanding that part far too well.

Sometimes, you’ve gotta do stuff on your own, just to prove to yourself that you can.

“I know, Wyn.” I stepped toward her, hoping she would see the truth in my eyes.

Wyn met my eyes, vials wrapped inside her grubby fingers as she stood there, her mind working and winding in the air between us.

I could almost feel the tension and fear that was seeping off her.

I guessed trust was harder to rebuild than I had always assumed it to be. It didn’t mean it wasn’t worth the effort, though.

“It’s for Thom,” she finally whispered, her voice so soft I had to take a step closer in order to hear her. “Dramin read in one of those books that you gave him about ephindredem… or something. I have it written down. It’s supposed to jump-start the heart.”

I stared at her, knowing exactly what she was talking about. I replayed at least four movie scenes in which some sort of Miraculous adrenaline recoveries were featured, and my stomach twisted at the memory. I would help her find it, though I wasn’t going to help her administer it. She was on her own for that one. I drew the line at giant needles.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” I said.

Wyn’s face lit up before she bounded away from me, back to the piles of trash from the clinic we were next to.

Well, if she was going to do it herself, I should at least be glad she was using her brain.

“Not too much longer, though,” I told her, careful to keep my voice low. “It’s getting dark.”

She didn’t even seem to hear me, or she pretended not to. I would be dragging her out by her prized T-shirt.

Be careful. No one wants to deal with Wyn after one of her T-shirts gets ripped
.

I smiled at the sudden addition of Ilyan’s voice. He seemed as stressed as Wyn.

True. But don’t worry. I’d sooner hit her over the head with a club,
I responded, leaning against the damp wall of the alley while Wyn searched.
She is a one-woman show. I guess it’s good I make a fine lookout.

You make a fine everything, můj kamarád.

I giggled, whether I wanted to or not, something not missed by either Ilyan or Wyn.

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 seeing 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.

BOOK: Crown of Cinders (Imdalind Series Book 7)
4.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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