Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(122)

I couldn’t risk losing her, not when I was so close.

Keeping my own eager pants masked, I listened to her ragged ones, to the uneven stomps of her feet against stone. My eyes narrowed as we moved deeper into the unfamiliar space, the doors on either side increasing as a deep rumble I was not familiar with boiled my veins.

It’s the earth’s magic, son.

If you can feel it, I am sure you can use it.

I wasn’t lying when I said you were powerful.

Use it to destroy her.

The words brought a smile to my face and prompted me forward, the sound of her steps getting louder and louder until they stopped, the sound of an old, rusty hinge replacing them.

A door.

I sped forward, quickly shielding myself from view. If she shut it, I could lose her. The forest of doors I was surrounded by would make it impossible to know which one she had disappeared behind.

The slam of wood against stone never came, however. Instead, there were only low and angry voices that hissed through the dark.

My chest tightened painfully at the scratch of their voices against my mind, everything buzzing as I moved closer, careful to keep my shield tight but knowing it might not be enough.

Then move up.

With one glance, I looked up at the high stone ceiling of the cave. The height of it was masked in a shadow so dark even I couldn’t see past it.

A perfect cover. This time, it was my voice, my eagerness that whispered back to me, the sound of my father’s laugh drowning it as my magic pulsed.

The already powerful wind I had conjured pushed me higher, letting me soar into the dark shadows of the high ceiling until, through a narrow ribbon of light and a dimly lit room, I could see her.

I could see them.

Míra and Ovailia.

Their shadowed figures paced before the crack Míra left in the door, blocking the light in spurts of light and dark that, from high above the cave, felt like a child playing with a flashlight.

“I got it, and I found him. I’m not totally incapable, Ovailia …” Míra pled, her words drowned as the light left the hall again, blocked by Ovailia this time as she came to stand right before the door.

She stared down the corridor with the same plastered disgust she always had. Her nose was turned up, an ugly sneer spread over her chapped and cracked lips.

I held my breath, sure she could sense me if not see me.

“You are sure you were not followed?” she sneered, a slow-moving ribbon of light slithering down the hallway from her, her magic checking the dark for some sign of me.

“Would it matter if I was?” Míra said, coming up beside her and pushing the door open so that she, too, could have a look. “We need him.”

The disgust on Ovailia’s face deepened, her focus shifting from the hall to the girl who stood next to her with a look just as smug.

“We do. Don’t look at me like that. You know we do, Ovailia.”

Seeing them both together, standing there as though nothing had happened, as though they hadn’t killed and murdered so many people, made me want to kill them even more.

My magic flared dangerously, my teeth grinding together in a desperate attempt to keep everything under control. To keep myself hidden. But then …

Why do you need to hide?

I know.

They are both right there.

Ready to pay.

You can take them.

I know I can.

Words bounced around inside of my head as I watched them turn from the door, back into the room that was now bright enough to illuminate the entire hallway, leaving my formerly perfect hiding place exposed. Not that it mattered.

I dropped to the floor without so much as a sound, my magic catching me and placing me gently on the cold stone floor, still shrouded by my magic.

“You have done well, Míra,” Ovailia began, her voice muddled as I began to creep toward them. “We need to get Ilyan to us. Sain must have already left the stadium by now. If we can find him before he finds Damek—”

“What are you saying?” Míra asked, her scared face pressing against the opening in the door for a moment.

“I need you to go back.”

“Go back!” Míra exclaimed, the panic in her voice causing me to jump a bit, my already accelerated heart rate bounding through the roof. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. And what did I warn you …”

I stepped again, my foot catching on a tiny rock on the ground, sending it flying across the hall and against the door.

I stared at the stone, cursing the luck I had, that after all my stealth, it came down to a tiny stone with a sound so soft that, at any other time, it might have gone unnoticed. But Ovailia had heard, the simple sound stopping her short while I froze in place.

Now! Take them now!

My father’s voice beat inside my head, rattling inside of me as it tried to prod me forward, my magic raising in temperature as it, too, answered the call.

“Are you sure you weren’t followed?” Ovailia’s voice was the last to seep past the gap in the door before a flurry of hushed whispers, a gasp, and tiny pop all came in quick succession.

The pop, one I had heard many times before, spun in my stomach. My magic flew to my fingertips, ready to attack, but before I could move, a wall of ice pressed against my back, freezing my magic in place and pulling my shield from me.