Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(45)

The tight ball in my stomach came back. I was worried I might throw up.

“I’m talking about how, after he died and Aunt Zora came to live with us, she was happy because Yagi was happy. And everyone else went on living. Everyone always goes on living after someone dies.”

“Míra?” My heart hurt.

“Your friends will go on living, too,” she continued, turning to look at me with wide eyes so white they were round saucers in the dawn, swallowing up all the light.

I gasped, wishing I could move away, wishing I could run away from her, away from her eyes that were swallowing me up.

“Ilyan, Ryland, Risha, even that Wynifred girl who doesn’t like me much—they will all go on living,” she whispered, leaning over the bed to get closer to me. The width of her eyes grew.

I tried to move away, but I was frozen in place, trapped between the monster that continued to breathe behind me and the girl who stared at me.

“Are you sure you can save them?”

“I told you I could. It’s the only way I can,” she snapped so loudly I was convinced someone had heard, but everything was quiet, everything except that monster that was probably standing right over me, breathing in my ear.

For all I knew, she had put us in a bubble or something. Ryland had talked about that once. I didn’t know how to do it yet.

Knowing that no one could hear us made me feel more trapped.

“You have to help me, Jaromir.”

“Help you kill that man?” I could barely get the words out. I knew this was wrong. She should know this was wrong.

“Yes. Then I can go back to Edmund, tell him it’s done. I can convince him—”

“You would leave?”

“I have to, Jaromir.”

“Can I come with you?”

Everything hurt. I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t want any of this.

My heart pressed against my skin like it was trying to get over to her, desperate for her to stay or for me to go with her.

“I can help you defeat Edmund.”

“No!” Her voice, even louder than mine, echoed around the long hall. Still, no one stirred. No one moved. The world was frozen like in some fairy tale, and we were the lone ones alive. “You can’t come. He will hurt you. You need to stay here. I need to save you, too. I have to, Jaromir.” Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she sat, letting them dangle in the dark. “Will you help me?”

I didn’t dare move. I didn’t dare speak. I sat stiffly, watching her feet swing, listening to the bed creak under the movement.

The creak, the breath of the man—they moved together, sucking the souls out of everyone around us. The creak became a troll that shuffled under the beds, following the demon and pulling the corpses out by their toenails.

But it was just Míra swinging her legs from where she sat.

Swinging her legs.

Swinging.

Swinging as we sat in the dark. Swinging as the question hung in the air.

Swinging as the knot in my stomach continued to expand, my mind twisting our already frightening reality into something much more terrifying.

“You want me to still save all of your friends, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Then this is what we have to do. I’ve tried to find another way, Jaromir. This is it. I like them, too. I want them to win. I can help them, but we need …” Her voice caught, and for a second, I was sure she was crying, sure that the alien that had taken over her body was gone. “I need to do this. I need you to help me, and I can save everyone else here. I promise.”

“Are you going to kill him?” My throat seemed too full of something.

Fear.

Or vomit.

Or both.

I could barely talk.

“Yes, Jaromir. But then everyone else is safe. He’s dead already, anyway.”

“He’s already dead?” I asked, leaning toward her in a panic, barely catching myself before I fell out of the bed. “What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”

Míra was silent. The dark was silent. The hall was silent except for the creak of her bed as she swung her legs back and forth, her eyes still trained on me.

“Who is it?” I asked again, hoping she would finally answer. My heart continued beating so fast it hurt. I didn’t want to hear who it was.

“I told you. A dead man.”

“You saw a dead man?”

She nodded, her lips a hard line as she leaned over the bed closer to me, her nose inches from mine, the width of her eyes growing. “I haven’t seen him, but I know he’s here in a bed, like all of them. Except, they keep him locked up like they are trying to keep him hidden. I’m not sure if he’s alive. He just lies there, and he sleeps. His hair is in cords like the wires that ran to Uncle Yogi’s chest.”

I knew at once whom she was talking about, and I swallowed, the movement painful thanks to my still constricted throat.

“How did you find him?” I hadn’t even seen him, though I knew where he was, who he was. I knew everything about this place, like how you weren’t allowed to go over there. “That’s off limits.”

Her smirk killed the glow in her eyes, the last shred of familiarity in my sister vanishing. “I told you. I haven’t found him, but I know he’s there. I know what he looks like. An old man showed me. I need you to take me to him.” She waved her hand to the side. “I need to finish this so everyone else can live.”