Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(70)
Wyn’s eyes glossed over, her body straightening as if someone had flipped a switch. Her movements, while still jagged, became a bit more fluid. She was giving in bit by bit.
As I followed her through another alley, the cathedral fell away from view before we emerged on a small side street that, for whatever reason, looked more untouched than the rest of them. There wasn’t quite as much blood here, and the trash and debris had been moved aside into what looked like tiny, little piles, like someone was taking care of it, cleaning it. The idea was ridiculous, yet the cathedral was right there, towering over us.
“Zdechnout,” I whispered as a poisoned Vil? flew toward me.
The tiny thing dropped to the ground with a thud.
Bright, beady eyes looked out on us from where they had hidden themselves throughout the wide street. My heart braced at the sight of the specks of color and light. I felt the fear momentarily before I smiled, stepping farther into the street and staring around at the monsters with glee.
Vil?s used to be the smartest creatures among us, wise beings that would gratefully converse about philosophy for hours. Now they were vermin, tortured until their minds had broken. Now they couldn’t even string two words together.
“Zdechnout,” I said more loudly this time, laughing as the winged monsters retreated, hiding themselves in fear, leaving us standing alone in the middle of the street. Just one more hurdle until we reached our destination.
“Thhhh … Rrrrr…”
It took me a minute to realize Wyn was actually trying to say something and wasn’t drowning in a pool of her own saliva.
Her tangled body faced the high tower, staring at something I couldn’t quite see with a mixture of dread and excitement.
Her hand shook as it lifted, one jagged finger pointing to the high dividing wall that had been built sometime in the 1500s. But it wasn’t the wall she was pointing at; it was the tower.
“What is it, little puppet?” I snapped, running my fingers through her hair as I moved around her, taunting her, watching the fear in her eyes increase as the reality of what was about to happen settled into her soul. “Don’t worry; I won’t hurt anyone. I’ll be nice.” I said the words with a smile, grabbing the jagged stone again and twisting it, a strange hissing noise dripping from her lips.
I didn’t even try to stop the laugh that seeped from me at her pain. I glared at her, threatening her to try to defy me, while saliva mixed with her tears, and the will in her eyes slowly broke.
The musical tone of my phone broke through my laugh as I dropped her hand, and the Vil?s around us perked to attention before shrinking back again in fear.
“Father,” I gasped as I put the phone to my ear, my shoulders tensing for what could come.
“Where are you?”
“In a street, near the cathedral—”
“Can you see the bell tower?” he asked, interrupting me abruptly with his hasty question.
“Yes.” My focus snapped to it, my eyes narrowing in instant curiosity. “We are right below it.”
“Good.” Even through the phone, the swirl of his devious voice wound through me pleasurably. “I’m not getting much; she is still trying to block me. But the secret is in the bell tower. Somewhere above it, some kind of white space.”
“A white space?” I asked, thoroughly confused now.
I stared at the bell tower, trying to see it against the darkening sky. If I was supposed to find some magical white line, I had better hurry. In minutes, it would disappear along with the sun.
“Yes, it looks like it is a tear in whatever Ilyan created. You need to go through there.” He didn’t wait for confirmation; he merely hung up.
Wynifred’s body jerked violently as he reconnected with her in an attempt to leech more information out of her.
“Don’t worry,” I soothed, patting her head like the dog she was before moving away from her. My eyes traced over the bell tower and the sky around it as I searched for the needle. “It will all be over soon, Wynifred. You are going to help me get inside this dratted fortress. Show me where they are keeping all those lovely Chosen. Help me give them a little gift, and then we can be on our way, back to your new mate. I am sure you are as excited to complete a bond with Edmund as I am to see it.”
She screamed again with a wail of pain and fear.
Spinning to face her, my wide hand collided with her face in a loud thud that sent her spinning to the ground, the scream silenced into the low whimpers of her tears.
“Shut up!” I hissed as I kicked her away from me, causing her tears to increase with the new pain I was ripping through her. “Shut up!”
I expected her to cower, to move back into compliance, but her screams continued. The sound was loud as she pushed herself up like a dog before running along the asphalt with jerky motions that were both haunting and frightening as she moved away from me.
The eager anticipation of what was to come vanished into fear as I watched her move, as I sent a stream of magic toward her in an attempt to catch her.
But it was too late.
With one jump, her body was like a child’s paper airplane: up and down, rolling awkwardly, as if she had been thrown off a cliff in reverse.
“Wynifred!” I screamed as my magic streamed after her, attack after attack missing as she tumbled through the air before disappearing into the white line I had missed before, the line I probably would have missed if it wasn’t for Wyn’s little escapade.