Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(4)

Wyn stared at me, the smile spreading farther as bloodstained teeth appeared behind thin lips. My scream grew before she turned away, leaving me standing in silence, leaving me surrounded by the bodies left behind: Ilyan who bled as he looked into the nothing before him, Thom who stayed lifeless against the red-tinged asphalt, my mother, Ryland, Talon, Risha. They were all there, their blood seeping into the leather of the worn shoes Ilyan had made me so long ago, seeping through the tiny hold that had formed near the toe.

The scream lingered, moving through me as the bodies faded, shifting to rock and darkness as the sight became the cave that had haunted me for months. It was dark and damp with the deep crimson blood that flowed over the jagged rocks like a river. Ilyan’s body was spread-eagle over those same rocks, the river pouring from him, his eyes vacant, mouth agape.

The scream increased as the sound of Edmund’s laugh joined it in a reprehensible harmony. I listened to it, dread ripping through me as I tried to wake up, as I pled to wake up. I begged for the twisted sight to leave.

“Wake up!”

I wasn’t the only one.

With a jolt, I sat straight up in bed, my eyes wild as the sight faded to nothing. The tension and fear that ran through my body made it hard to see straight, let alone breathe at a normal rate.



Mi lasko? His voice was as panicked as I was. I couldn’t blame him. I knew he felt my fear and had probably seen some of the sight.

As long as he didn’t see the last of it, however, we were good. I had kept him from that knowledge thus far, and I would do anything to keep it that way.

Are you all right? he asked from the rooftop he stood on—the old, battered building he used as a lookout, miles away from where I lay, warm and supposedly safe in my bed.

“Ilyan,” I said it aloud between heaving gasps, my eyes flashing to his side of the bed, despite knowing he was not there. If he had been, he would have been holding me. He would have been singing to me.

Always, he whispered in hushed response to my thoughts, his magic moving into me steadily in a thick wave of warmth and love. I will wrap my arms around you the moment I see you.



I knew he would. I could practically feel his arms around me now while his soft, hushed voice drifted into my mind in the melody that was embedded into my soul.



With a sigh, I wrapped myself up in the warmth, in the song, and fell back onto the bed, my breath slowing as the anxiety trickled away, leaving me with the unusually high level of anxiety I had quickly grown used to. War would do that to you.

My eyes finally pulled into focus as I lay there, the first light of day filtering through our tiny, blown glass window, making the ancient iron light fixture and plaster cracks that much more prominent.

“They are getting worse,” I whispered more to myself than to him, but I knew he would hear it, anyway. I knew he would understand. I needed him to.

I know. The tension in his voice was heavy, the worry over me that he tried so hard to conceal leaking through. Who was in the cloak this time?

I tensed at his question, knowing it was coming, and turned over in the bed, pulling his pillow into me like a teddy bear, silently thanking the stars it still smelled like him.

It was Wyn, I spoke into his mind, the relay of information bringing his confusion and frustration right back to me like a wave.

Wynifred? He was confused. I was, too.

Ever since we had come to this city, ever since we had been trapped in this dome three months ago, my sights had been … changing.

At first, it was nothing bad, just things shown from different angles. Visions altered into a different future that I knew was correct, like when we had first found Risha and the refugees hidden away in the city, when I healed Dramin. Even though they had changed, I knew they were correct.

Now, it was different. Now, they were confusing fragments that didn’t fit together, everything contradicting each other in cruel ways. I saw one thing, and then I saw something completely different. Sights kept changing, and everything I thought was real was now a broken and cruel contrivance.

It was as though I was only getting part of the information, like my receiver was broken. Just like that dumb television static I kept seeing. Who knew, maybe I was trying to predict a really good TV show.

One thing was perfectly clear: something was wrong. Though Ilyan and I had somehow moved into a silent agreement not to acknowledge it, we both knew it.

Did it look like Wyn? he asked, his usual solve-every-problem demeanor coming on strong, his voice having already adopted the heavy powerful-leader strain I loved so much.

I cringed, not really wanting to pull up a recall, not wanting to feel that fear again. Luckily, this one I already knew the answer to. The look in her eyes, the way she smiled, it was too close to Ryland, or the Ryland Cail had created, anyway.

“Not really.”

I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. I could even imagine him dragging his hand through his hair as he always did.

You know me too well.

I smiled in spite of myself. He was right; I did. But that was how it was supposed to be, after all … when you loved someone.

We could ask Sain…

Just like that, the smile was gone. Oh, yes, my oh-so-loving father with his oh-so-perfect sights would be the logical choice of someone to ask. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t even want to ask my brother. I didn’t want to hear either of them say to my face what I had heard whispered around the cathedral for the past few months. The whispers that I was sure Sain had started.