Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)(73)

I attempted to move, but I was too calm. Even my heart rate was regulated above the fear and anger that rampaged through me.

“Hello, Ovailia,” a calm, female voice rang through the white that surrounded me as if it was inside of me. I was confident it was familiar, yet I couldn’t place it.

Lurching at the sound, I tried to twist my trapped body in an attempt to see what was here, but I barely moved, and even what little movement I could force provided me with the same view—the same blinding, white light.

There was nothing save for white. No one save for myself.

“I’m surprised to see you here, but then, with who your father is, I am not so surprised.”

“Hello?” My voice shook, the vibration of it so heavy it disgusted me. My lips curled as I attempted to move, finding myself even more restrained than before. “Who’s there?”

“I am here.”

I could have punched someone with the redundancy of the answer. “And who are you?”

“I am a Drak. You are not.” The voice came without hesitation, but this time, it was heavy, angry, suffocating. It reminded me so much of the anger of my father, of the violence that would follow. I cringed against it, my spine curling together as I braced for whatever was coming.

“I am…” I started, not quite certain how to finish the sentence, the uncharacteristic fear making it hard to form thoughts.

“A Drak? Oh, no. You pretend to be, but you are not. You are not stable.” The tempo of the voice increased, and I cringed more, hating how childlike and vulnerable I felt in this place, how something in the voice was bringing that out in me. “You would do well to fix that … before it ends you.”

“Hello?” I asked again, genuine fear now shaking through me.

“I will not permit you this. You are not a Drak.” With those last few words, the sight shifted, and the white world I had been trapped in fell away, sucked into a black void and replaced by a golden glow I didn’t recognize, the same images I had seen before flashing again.

The pain rushed back as the sights began, as everything I had seen played before me. The same scream came from my mouth, the same pain wracking my body. Except, everything was playing in rewind, as though I was being forced to watch an old video on repeat.

Edmund and Joclyn walked backward over the beach. Blood rose from rocks like rain. The massive barrier snapped back around the city like a glove.

Watching them, the pain that raged through me swelled until the harsh reality of what was really happening was made clear.

The images were not only moving backward; they were being sucked from my mind. They were being drained from me, as if I had never seen them, drained from the world as if they never were.

The scream increased as the pain in my head did. Whatever was happening to me was turning me into a sniveling fool. Even when my father controlled me through the Black Water, the pain had never been this severe, this debilitating.

No matter how much I tried to fight it, nothing could take the weight off. Nothing could free me from the prison I was trapped in.

My mouth opened wider as the scream grew in octave, the sound more musical than it should have been for the amount of pain it represented.

I listened to the sound, vaguely aware of the beauty behind it until it began to change, to swell and condense into words.

Words I understood, even if I couldn’t control them.

“The gift of future has been restored,” I said, keenly aware I was not the only one talking. I could hear Sain’s voice right alongside mine, which meant the sharp scream I was positive belonged to Joclyn was echoing the exact same thing. “The magic was spread too wide but has been returned. The son will rise, the son will fall, and all the blood will cease to flow. The time is now. It grows too late. Kill the fool before the slate. Love no longer seeks revenge. Your power has come to an end.”

I cringed as it continued, a million hidden meanings seeping from behind my lips as my mind tried to make sense of the clues. However, the sights I knew would guide me were erased and untraceable.

The pain in my body lifted as my eyes snapped open to the barracks where I had collapsed. The voices of dozens of confused and frightened Chosen rumbled like bees, the smell of rosewood and antiseptic strong.

Glowering at the forest of bed legs before moving, I fought through the ache that rampaged my body, knowing I couldn’t stay here if I wanted to finish my task.

Blonde hair falling down my back, I tried to look as elegant and frightening as I always did, but these people had no idea who I was. Even though they had reveled in me at my first appearance, they had just seen both Sain and I collapse to the ground.

That wasn’t doing anyone any favors.

They all looked at me with the fear I had come to expect, but this wasn’t based on the fear of death. It was based on the fear of confusion. I would have to change that.

I needed to take control of my one clear asset first.

The sharp clack of my heels echoed through the large room as I walked toward Sain who was still lying on the ground, curled into a ball like a despicable child.

“Get up,” I growled, my foot moving swiftly as I rolled him over, the man flopping onto his back like a lifeless puppet. “You’re pathetic.”

“They know,” he said, his voice dead as he looked at the ceiling.

“They know what?” I snapped, my lips curling as I watched him, waiting for something more, but he lay there, his eyes lifeless as he stared straight ahead. “What happened to the powerful man in the courtyard? You’re pathetic.” I spat,