Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(72)

“It is the end; I’m afraid,” he sighed, his voice breaking with what I was positive was feigned emotion. “I am going to be with her now. All that can be done is to pray to the Well of Imdalind that all will be well. Excuse me.” Sain bowed gently to the now heartbroken man before he stepped to the side, his posture clear as he walked through the hordes like a god, the former sheep parting before him like waves in the Bible.

With a start, I realized I hadn’t moved. I stood still, my heart thundering in my chest in disbelief, in what I was refusing to accept as awe. I moved then, my feet tapping loudly as I attempted to catch up to my charge, realizing for the first time how much power this man really held.

Huddles of people continued to call out to him, desperate for information, as we passed. Most of the time, he would wave them off, a few muddled replies passed back and forth on occasion.

“It takes strength to be a Drak. We can only pray now,” he continued to say on repeat, the redundancy making it clear he was trying to get through them as quickly as possible. Otherwise, I was in no doubt we would be there all night. His pride wasn’t something he had ever been able to hide, and I was realizing with a start that he wasn’t holding back here.

Not anymore.

“Only those who are chosen can hold a Drak’s power,” he repeated.

The sentiment was grating on me. He had said the same words to me when we had been bonded.

If only he knew…

“Here,” Sain announced as we turned the corner into a long hallway, the familiar vestibule the same as it had been hundreds of years before: brick and open casements, plain and simple. Monks quarters were never ornate. “The first three doors here.”

Fortunately, it seemed everyone had congregated on the patio, so the hallway before us was barren and forgotten.

At least it would make my job easier.

With one flash of magic, I let my shield fall away, shimmering to the ground like some elegant gown, revealing my tall frame.

I was going to enjoy this.

“Where’s Wyn?” Sain’s voice was loud from behind me, the worry in it catching me off guard. It was so different from what I had seen in the courtyard a few minutes ago. His mask was back on, it seemed. Everything about him was starting to make sense.

I spun to meet him, my hair fanning out in a swirl of white. I always liked it when it did that. Sain liked it, too, judging from the way his eyes widened at it.

“Dear Wyn got away.” The acidic honey dripped from my voice, burning away any romantic ideas he might have had. “Don’t worry; we will find her as soon as we are finished here.”

I smiled while he cowered, and with one click of my heels against stone, I moved toward the low voices filtering through the heavy doors. Their mumbles were filled with curiosity and worry.

We didn’t hesitate. I didn’t even look at Sain before we walked into the room, the large barracks I briefly remembered as a child now lined with beds and filthy people I was moments from killing.

I smiled at them as their eyes widened in shock and awe at our sudden appearance.

Men sat up a little straighter as they saw me, women straightening blankets and flattening tangles of hair. My smile grew at their insecurities, at how instantly they began to worship me.

Meeting their faces with a smile, I was ready to end each and every one of their lives. If the Black Water hadn’t erupted within me. If the door hadn’t slammed shut, trapping me in with Sain’s scream, the agony matching my own as a sight embraced me—embraced us. The vision of the future, past, and present was so powerful I had no idea where it had come from or what was going on.

It was all I could do not to scream as an entourage of images barraged me, sending me to the ground in pain. My own scream echoed in my ears. Except, it wasn’t just my scream. It wasn’t just Sain’s…

There was another.

One that was much clearer, one that was full of more pain and agony than either of ours. Even without seeing, I knew who it was because I knew who the sight was coming from, and I knew what had happened.

Joclyn’s magic.

It was more powerful than I had ever assumed.

And she was taking us all down with her.





My screams continued, loud and hollow in my ears as the sights came. One after another, they flashed with violent aggression, showing me things I had heard rumors of and I had heard my father speculate about. Things I had killed people over in an attempt to discover.

And now, I saw them all, flashing before me in strobes of color and light: burning images, voices screaming, pain ripping aggressively, as though I was being ripped limb from limb. As though someone was inside of me, digging around.

In a flash of red, the barrier over the city exploded into fragments of light and color. A second later, the vision shifted, revealing Edmund and Joclyn walking down a beach, laughing in a joy I could not understand. Then there was a scream, and Ryland stood before me, a child in his arms, while Sain laughed in the corner of a cave, madness clear in his eyes.

Flashes continued as I screamed.

Images lingered as I thrashed.

Pain gripped me as I tried to escape.

And then it was all gone.

The visions, the sounds, the pain.

It was all gone except for a blinding white light that surrounded me, leaving me standing in a white room. The makeshift hospital, Sain, the mission, the agony of my body—it was all forgotten.