Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(109)

“Deserve may be the wrong word there, Father.” I spat out the last word like it was poison, part of me expecting him to flinch or howl in anger. However, his smile deepened, his steps hollow as he continued forward, step after step grating against me.

“Oh, no, child.” His voice was soothing in the dark. If the threat behind his words wasn’t so clear, I might have believed the lie he was trying to weave. “Deserve is exactly the right word because I deserve what is about to happen to me, just as you deserve what is about to happen to you. I have been working toward this since before any of you were born. It’s fitting that you be here to see it to its end.”

“What have you done, Sain?” Ilyan’s chest rumbled beneath me as he spoke, the feral snarl erupting through the dark street like a drum. Sain, however, took one more step toward us, obviously unfazed by Ilyan’s questioning and the many different meanings it held, none of which were lost on any of us.

“Done?” Sain asked with a laugh.

Ryland slowly stepped back, away from the man and closer to where Ilyan and I stood. His back was tense as his magic flared.

“I have done nothing. I was not the one to kill your mother. I was not the one to start this war. I have merely given—eh—helpful guidance along the way.” He flipped his hand to the side as he spoke, the movement so casual you would assume he was discussing anything other than the orchestrated destruction of an entire race of people.

My blood boiled with every word he spoke as I looked into the reality of what—no, of whom—we were truly facing. “It’s all a game to you.”

“Oh, yes.” The slime of his voice dripped off the wall, and I cringed. “One of the best sort. And you all have been playing without even knowing.”

“You’ve used everyone. You used me…” Ryland growled, his feet shifting as if he was debating whether or not to attack Sain right away. I didn’t blame him. It would have been a foolish move, something Ryland seemed to pick up on.

“Used is a harsh word, Ryland. I used no one. I only helped them see their true potential, helped them understand what they were really meant for, even if they didn’t see it themselves.”

The true reality of what he had done became frighteningly clear. This was more than spreading rumors about my magic. This was more than controlling the Draks. I could tell by looking at him, looking at this stranger, that his motives went deeper than the prideful games we had assumed them to be.

“Well”—Sain’s eyes narrowed as he took yet another step forward—”I guess I have done something.” His smiled stretched wide again as he froze before us, unwilling to look away while his magic slowly started to awaken from within him, the same powerful strain I had felt running through the city before emanating from him like a poisonous fog, sticking heavily in the air as though it was attempting to strangle us. His smile rose as his magic did, the darkened street behind him illuminating as the forgotten streetlights blazed to life. His magic infected them as he ignited them, blanketing us in a flickering yellow bath.

Our shadows stretched and swayed over the blood soaked street as the lights continued to flare, swallowing the dark until it showed us what he wanted us to see.

Until it showed us what he had “done.”

A pile of lifeless corpses, their clothes covered with wet blood, their faces gaunt as they stared at nothing. Their hands were posed as if they were still trying to attack whatever had destroyed them, as if the magic inside of them was still trying to get out, still trying to save them.

But there was nothing except death.

“I did this.” His voice was light, proud, joyful of the handiwork he had accomplished, as if the life he had destroyed was more beautiful than the life that had been. I didn’t even care if they were Edmund’s men; it still made my stomach turn. “Edmund sent me with ‘fifty of his strongest’ on a mission to kill you. I made him believe I could use my sight to sneak them into the cathedral to draw you out, something that was obviously not too hard. However, I didn’t need them to complete my task. But Edmund needn’t know that.” He smiled, the grin infecting me like poison, sending my insides spinning in varying levels of disgust and anger. It was all I could do to keep my temper at bay. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the one I should have worried about.

“You’re a monster!” The words erupted from Ilyan as he stepped around me, the rough edge of his magic cutting through me, making his intent clear.

I lunged for Ilyan as his brother did, both of our magic flooding into the king in a desperate attempt to quell his temper.

Sain, on the other hand, stood still, that disturbing smile still in place while he watched us, laughing.

Ilyan, I spoke into his mind, my hand wrapping around his neck as I pulled him toward me, Ryland stepping between us and Sain protectively. Calm down, my love. I am here. Do not rise to what he is doing. We know his game. If we want to survive this, we need to play it with him.



Ilyan’s widened eyes darted toward me as his thoughts flooded me. His anger made it hard for to him to focus. I had never seen him like this. I had heard about his temper and thought I had seen it before, but this was beyond anything I had witnessed. It scared me. I had never assumed that level of uncontrollability was possible in him.

As I looked at him, fear looked back at me. Dangerous anger rumbled through me in a warning that went unheeded.