Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(16)

Stepping onto the raised platform in silence, Ovailia stepped back with one sharp look from me, the warning obvious.

This was my show.

Two steps and I was to him.

Edmund’s body was already ripped apart, blackened, burned limbs thrown into the dark behind him with the force of the attack. Nevertheless, it was his skull I wanted. It was the head that still looked out at them all with a slack jaw and wide-eyed horror.

The skull that so many of them could not look away from.

With a wide smile, I scanned the crowd as I placed my foot over the skull of the once powerful king, watching the fear line their eyes as, with one swift movement, I crushed the man who had once crushed them.

“You can choose one master, and I suggest you choose wisely. If we wish to destroy Ilyan and take Imdalind for our own, we do not need someone who cannot see the dangers we are surrounded by. What we need is someone who can see the truth of what lies ahead, see all possibilities in our path. And I can see all.”

The words were perfectly placed, soothing little reminders of what I was and what I was capable of. They did not go unnoticed.

Those same eyes that looked so frightened of me before now looked between themselves in confusion and awe.

“I suggest,” I began, my voice a low warning as I began to pace before them, “that you consider your options carefully. You do not want to see what I can truly do. A little freezing trick is nothing compared to the true power of a Drak.”

I stood still in the center of the platform, my smile wide as I faced them, letting the fear mount as my magic did. The powerful force went unfelt as it wound through each of them, moving into them, infecting them.

Preparing them.

And then I released them.

“If you fight for me, then do it. Kill those who still bow to Edmund. Destroy those unworthy to stand in my presence.”

The sounds of anger, fear, and battle erupted again as the horde before me reanimated, bodies falling, spells firing.

Attacks sped toward me once again, simply to be deflected with a single thought. Beams of color and flame followed, falling to the ground like sand. One after another, they came until the war that was opening up before me began to shift, the line of good and evil fading.

And Trpaslík turned against Trpaslík.

My words had not gone unnoticed.

One by one, those who battled before me began to turn on each other. The war was no longer about who could destroy me, but on choosing which side to stand on. Choosing which side of the line you would claim as your own.

Laughing, I watched as the battle strengthened, body after body falling to the ground. Explosions sounded around me as the battle intensified, as they began to rip each other apart.

“Careful,” I whispered to myself, turning away from them with a grin. “You might get hurt if you don’t choose wisely.”

Kicking the shards of bone off the stone floor, I stepped away, grateful when Ovailia followed me, her own laugh clear in the scream-filled air.





JOCLYN





4





“Are you hoping to find something to kill?” I teased, increasing my gait in an attempt to keep up with Wyn. Knowing I had to be quiet. Being loud while we were outside the cathedral was not smart.

Wyn, however, seemed to be trying to make as much noise as possible. Even her footfalls were deafening.

“I’m not saying it would be a bad thing.” Her voice was a heavy mumble as she finally came to a stop.

Pulling a weathered and wrinkled map out of her back pocket, she consulted it, peering through the hole in her palm like it was some kind of periscope.

“If you want to use it like that, you should get a magnifying glass inserted.” I tried to ignore the way my stomach flipped and flopped at the imagery. Then I turned away, letting my magic flow over the darkened streets we were stopped in.

I supposed, if we were going to be loud and obnoxious, I should at least make certain we were as safe and guarded as possible.

“Don’t think that it hasn’t crossed my mind,” she said with a wink, pressing the mangled hand flat in the air. “But I worry it would mess up my magic, and it has such a pretty little circular array right now.”

I would grant her that. Whatever that blade had done to her hand had not only made it impossible for me to heal, but her magic flew around in new and, should we say, unique ways.

“Just conjure glass into it, and you’re all set,” I said absently, my focus two streets away on a Vil? that was picking through garbage.

Luckily, looking at Wyn’s map, our target was in the opposite direction. As long as I could keep her quiet, we would be good.

“I think that’s the best thing you have said all day,” Wyn hissed in an eager whisper, balling up the map then shoving it into the back pocket of her filthy jeans. Not like mine were much better. We were in desperate need of a washing machine. “Of course, then I couldn’t torment Jaromir and his angry, little counterpart. It’s so fun to make them squirm.”

I figured I would let that one slide and followed her into an alley ahead of us. Wyn was not a very big fan of Míra. Not that I blamed her. I had seen her killing Thom, after all. And while that was something I probably shouldn’t have shared with Wyn, I did also see her in the caves with Ilyan. I saw her with him, and he was still alive.