Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(51)

I braced for the sound of the collision, braced for the explosion of sound and the shake of the space as the barrier absorbed the power.

But the barrier didn’t stop it.

Instead, the attack continued to move through the protective bubble with a powerful pop. I watched the shimmer of the translucent barrier fade around us, watched the attack slam into the ancient stonework of the gothic chapel with yet another explosion. Everything around us shook so violently I expected the whole building was going to come down on top of us.

“Oh, Ilyan is going to kill me.” And I had thought a few loose tiles would be bad.

I was dead.

Disembowelment was in order.

It was the solitary fear I had until I looked down at Joclyn, to where she hung from my arm, her eyes of the deepest black, her body convulsing violently.

“Joclyn!” I yelled, fear rampaging through me at what I was seeing. “Joclyn?”

I had seen her have sights before. I had watched her eyes fade into the sight of future. I had watched her slide off tables, writhing in agony and crying over what she had seen behind the black of her eyes. But there was something different here. This was terrifying.

Hands fluttering around her, I tried to find a way to help, tried to find a way to get her to snap out of it, something. She was jerking around so much, so fast that I couldn’t even get a good grip on her.

“Joclyn!” I yelled again, but she kept writhing.

Her black eyes stared toward the sky, her face haunted and broken as if she was looking into her very own death.

“Give me,” she said. Her voice was deep and hollow as I had heard from Draks before, the sound terrifying when I came from her. “Give it to me,” she moaned again, her eyes darting to my pocket, her hand like claws as she moved to reach for it.

The fear from before slammed into my back in an uncomfortable agony. The worry I’d had over Joclyn moments ago evaporated in the boil of my blood, the heat of my magic. The need to run, to escape, to attack encompassed me.

I tried to fight it. I couldn’t leave Jos. She was my friend, and I knew what these sights did to her. I needed to help her.

I tried to convince myself of that, but the loyalty was wavering as she kept convulsing, as the words kept coming.

It was all I could do not to attack her.

“Wyn—” The word seeped out of her before she fell to the ground in a heap, her joints twisted in ways that made her look broken, like china that was trying to repair itself.

The panic subsided as I watched her, the worry taking over. Then she heaved, and then she screamed. And her head turned toward me with the same black eyes, even though I was convinced she could see me.

“Wyn,” she gasped, her voice twisted between normal and the hollow Drak tones. “You need to give me the blade. You don’t know what you’ve done.”

I looked at her, into the black of her eyes, into the fear that came right back to me.

“No!” The word was a snap of broken ice as it cut through me, every instinct I possessed begging me to rush my best friend, to kill her, to keep myself and my plan safe.

It was all I could do not to attack her.

It was all I could do not to run and leave her screaming after me.

“Wyn, please.” Her voice was normal now, but her eyes had not changed. They were the same dark depths of nothing staring at me as if they could see me, but more than just me, as if they could see my future, too.

Mommy!

I jumped at the terror in her voice, the tenor of it taking me right back to that day when Rosaline had lain on that table, Edmund hovering over her, Ovailia laughing in the background. And Sain … Sain chained in the corner, his eyes as black as hers.

His eyes as black as hers.

Just like that, something in me flipped, the switch moving so fast I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop the anger, the pain. I couldn’t stop from coming alive.

“Wyn,” Joclyn gasped, her voice broken and scared, so much like everyone else when they had begged for life, when they had begged for their end to come.

And so would she.

“No!” I screamed, the vile anger exploding out of me in a wave of aggression that made her flinch again, the warning met, though I knew she wouldn’t back down.

I could see it.

I knew it.

And if she wasn’t going to back down … I wasn’t going to give in.

Mommy! Please! Her voice shot through me as my magic did, the attack speeding through the air and right toward Joclyn to stop her, to end her.

Joclyn screamed as the light erupted, the blazing flash impacting against the stone as she moved, her body sliding over the floor so fast I was in no doubt she was possessed.

My heart tensed at the thought, part of me screaming in fear as it begged me to stop. But I couldn’t hear it anymore. I couldn’t think past the sound of Rosy’s voice, past her fear.

I needed to save her, and I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way.

I would stop her first.

Another attack, one right after another shot toward Joclyn, but again, she moved. Again, she shifted away right before the attack would have made contact.

I could see the pain on her face. I could see how much moving was costing her. She couldn’t outrun me forever. Besides, if she was just going to dodge, then I would have to anticipate that.

“Wyn!” she screamed as she tried to back up over the stone, her black eyes looking into me, digging into me. “You must give it to me … you can’t—”