Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(31)

“Ryland, I need you and Risha to help guard the kids. Take turns if you must. It won’t help if the girl can stutter, but I have a feeling she won’t leave Jaromir behind. And Joclyn’s the only one who can take someone with her without risking life and limb. I’ll want you at the council, so leave Risha there to watch over them so you can attend council in the morning.”

Both Wyn and Ryland turned a delicate shade of green at the memory of the “trauma” I had put them through. Go figure.

“Joclyn and I are going to go to Dramin. We need to track the sight, dig deeper and see if we can find any concrete answers or clarify what is coming. Dramin knows the most about Drak and Sain—”

“And I will dance naked amongst the trees …” Wyn began, her snide retort for being excluded from the to-dos blocked with one sharp look from Ilyan.

“No, Wyn, you are in charge. I need you to supervise the masses and prepare them for a council tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Wyn interjected, aghast.

Ilyan ignored her.

“I need you to make sure everyone is in attendance.”

“Wait,” Wyn gasped, further shock widening her face. “You are putting me in charge?”

“As long as you keep your clothes on, yes.” Ilyan didn’t seem too happy about this. His lips were a tight line, and he wouldn’t even look at her. He still hadn’t forgiven her for destroying his chapel, not that I blamed him.

“No prob, boss. I won’t let you down.”

“Well,” Ilyan sighed, his eyes closing as he dragged his hand through his hair again, “desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Burn.”





SAIN





7





Running beneath the stars, the sparkling specks choked by smoke, I could already see the flames. I could see them lick the sky, light the night on fire with the light of a sun. It was as it had been in sight, the dratted imagery coming before, not soon enough to stop it.

Not soon enough to save the people who were trapped in the large, white tent.

At any other time, I wouldn’t care who lived and died. I wouldn’t care who was sentenced to a fiery death. I had killed enough. I had created enough death. I had enough blood on my hands.

But these were not on my hands. They were not deaths I had created, not deaths I had wanted. I needed their allegiance, not their deaths. I needed to win a war with warriors, not graves.

I still needed them.

I needed them alive … for now.

“Did you see anyone leave the tent after the fire?” I asked Damek who ran beside me, his breath coming in ragged shards as he tried to keep up with me.

Damek had shown up after the sight had left me, pulling me out of bed and back into the madness that was ripping everything apart.

“Nothing out of the usual, my king.” He heaved, his eyes still on the brilliant light before us.

The heat of the fire saturated the air, even from hundreds of yards away.

“Did you see them?”

He knew who I was talking about, and he swallowed, a quick side glance cast my way before he looked forward, trying his best to keep his back straight.

If it were anyone else, I would assume this behavior to mean he was working with them, but I had covered his back with Black Water a few days ago, leaving him with nine long scars and me with a perfect window into his life, into his allegiance.

He wasn’t working with them.

“No, my king,” Damek finally said, the bend in his back making it clear he was still feeling the residual pain from the water. “But I am still of the opinion they are not working alone. From what I have heard …”

Stopping in place, I wound my magic across the air as I stopped Damek’s forward progression. His words ceased as I pulled him back, sending him through the air with a yelp and bringing him to stand right before me.

The crackle of the fire snapped over the hot air as we stood so close to the fire that the screams of those dying, the screams of those trying to help, were clearly heard.

“I have told you before, Damek, that you can only kill a snake by cutting off its head.” I stepped closer to him, placing my hand on his shoulder, my long, unkempt thumbnail pressing against the skin there as I ran the thumb of my other hand over the length of his knife.

His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the fear obvious despite his eyes never leaving mine, my hand still heavy on his shoulder.

It had been two weeks since I had killed his former master, and already, his bravery and allegiance were shifting. After two more weeks, he would be quite the formidable servant, even without a ?tít.

I was unsure even Edmund could have accomplished such a feat.

“Step on a devil’s tail and just upset him more,” he continued for me, my magic relaxing against him as he stumbled back, trying to find his feet.

“Yes.” My response was a hiss, the sound made louder by a flare-up of the fire, the blast lighting the field as brightly as the sun.

The screams increased with the explosion, the sound of a tent collapsing following behind.

Damek flinched, his eyes wide as they turned toward the now crippled tent. I didn’t even look, something Damek didn’t miss as his eyes returned to me, the fear in him intensifying.

“I need you to find them, Damek. All three right now.” I stepped closer to him as ash began to fall around us, the tiny bits of fluff drifting across the scorched air like snow. “Find them. Bring me information. I want it before the fire has turned to embers.”