Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(47)

I didn’t want to think about what had happened, what she had done.

“I didn’t kill her.” Míra looked at me like she was trying to be comforting, but her voice was dead. The smear of blood on her cheek scared me as much as her tone. “She will be fine. But we have to move.”

“Do you promise?”

“We have to go, Jaromir. It’s our only chance.”

I stared at her from the bed, watching her eyes and wishing my sister were still there. Wishing she were alive. Wishing I were.

There was nothing.

Nothing except death.

Death in the pit that Míra always talked about. The pit where you either lived or died. The pit where everyone bled. She was there, and without knowing it, I had walked in after her.

I didn’t have another choice.

Míra knew it, too, the knowledge written across her face, wide and hungry.

“Now, Jaromir. Get out of bed. We need to go.”

Everything buzzed and shifted around me as I rolled out of bed, the world shaking inside a bottle, everything spinning and moving. I couldn’t focus. The noises were too loud; the dark was too bright. I couldn’t breathe, but I also couldn’t stop.

The monster had already caught me; except, it was Míra’s tight hand around my arm.

“This way.” Her words spun inside my head like everything else, sounds drowned out by a constant buzzing, by the sound of my heart as it rattled through me.

I saw Míra give the same disgusting, twisted grin before I began to walk, doing my best not to look at Risha, not to smell the blood.

I saw her, anyway.

She was crumpled on the floor, her long hair fanned out around her head like the sun’s rays. Her hand looked stiff, wrapped around the bed post, as blood spread over her back, over her skin, the large red puddle pooling around her.

I still saw Risha.

“Y-y-you …” I stuttered, barely able to get the words out with how my stomach was twisting. “You said you wouldn’t kill her!”

“I didn’t kill her. She will live. She just won’t go anywhere for a while.”

I swallowed, the motion difficult with whatever was still clogging my throat.

Everything smelled like a korun ?eskych and when I had to clean the bathroom, the smell following us out, traveling on the wet, sticky mess that had seeped into my socks.

“Let’s go, Jaromir.” Míra prodded my back with her finger, a sharp point that dug into my spine as her magic erupted inside of me. Sharp, little pokes dispersed over my skin like needles.

I jerked then stumbled out the door and into the courtyard as she laughed gleefully behind me.

All signs of my sister were gone. I no longer knew who I was following.

The sound of my heart was louder out in the courtyard where the dark tents surrounded us, sending it into the black sky before the red barrier brought it back, screaming at me to stop.

I couldn’t.

I walked past the tents that were strangely quiet and still.

I wondered if they were empty. I wondered where everyone was, but I couldn’t think. I could barely walk in a straight line as it was.

We weaved past the tents, heading toward the large hall that held the bathrooms and beyond that …

Every step felt heavy. The large, wet mass on my sock wasn’t helping, either. It was a heavy weight that I dragged behind me, as if Risha were hanging on, begging me to stop.

Everyone wanted me to stop, but I couldn’t. I had to save everyone. As Míra had said, it was the only way I had to keep telling myself that.

Knowing it was all a lie.

The hallway rattled around us, stones and bricks shaking in what I was persuaded to believe was an explosion. I knew it was too early for the ships to drop their bombs, but I couldn’t think of what else it could be.

I jerked at the noise, wishing I could turn back to Míra, make sure she was okay. But I couldn’t make myself do that, either. I simply walked forward, jerking as another one came, wishing they would break through the wall.

Wishing they would free us.

Free me from what I was about to do.

Momma used to always say that, even if you didn’t take the cookie, if you saw someone doing it, you were still as guilty.

This was so much worse than a cookie.

One step, two beats, three shaky breaths. Everything was too loud. My heart beat. My socks against the stone. Míra’s excited breathing inches from my back. Momma’s voice loud and clear inside my head, nagging about cookies and right and wrong. And how wrong Míra was.

How wrong I was to help her.

Ryland could help her, though. I knew he could. I needed to tell him what was going on so they could stop her. There wasn’t enough time left to stop her, though.

I had already brought her too far.

As I stopped in place, the door Míra needed was a few feet from us. I froze, my innards twisting and turning, head spinning in fear.

I couldn’t be here. How did I get here?

Míra slammed into my back as another explosion rattled the walls. She was obviously not paying very close attention to where I was going. The impact sent us both toppling forward into stone floors and walls, my still wet sock sliding on the stone.

I caught myself, turning to make sure Míra was okay, but instead, I saw one of my own bloody footprints.

Risha’s blood, bright red in the dark.