Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(49)

“You’re sorry?” She snapped as she walked toward me, blood dripping down her face, streaking her blonde hair from a cut in her scalp. “You promised me you would help, Jaromir! You lied!”

I tried to get up, tried to run away, but my body hurt. It screamed back, everything aching as I kept moving. I had to.

“You’re a liar!”

“No!” I yelled as I forced myself to my feet, a scream ripping out of me. The pain was so severe I could barely see, couldn’t even breathe.

I could only scream.

Scream as she attacked me again, a streak of light running toward me. Scream as I dodged like I had so many times before in a million games at the park and stick battles in the alley behind our house.

This wasn’t that anymore. This was pain that never ended as vomit dripped over my chin, blood running into my eyes.

I didn’t want to die this way.

I didn’t want to die like Risha.

I had to run as fast as I could and find Ryland, find Ilyan. Find someone who could help. I had to stop her.

I had made such a big mistake. I had to fix it.

I had to make everything better.

“Ryland!” I yelled, hoping beyond hope he would hear me … find me before it was too late. “Ryland! Save me!”

Ignoring the pain, ignoring the way the world spun, I ran as fast as I could, weaving through the dim hallways like a dodge ball as attack after attack exploded from behind me. Flashes of color reflected against the stone as I ran, screaming.

“Please stop, Jaromir!” Míra yelled, but I couldn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

The flashes continued as I ran, her magic flooding the hall around me, her cries clear in my ears.

“Please, Jaromir! I don’t want to hurt you!”

Red.

Purple.

Blue.

Yellow.

Black.

Black.

Black.

All that was left was black. Black and pain. Pain that encompassed my body. Pain that sent me down to the ground again, slamming against the hard stone. Smooth stone. Cold stone.

I didn’t scream yet wanted to. I lay, staring into the black, my eyes wide open as I froze.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore!” Míra cried, her steps loud as she passed me. “I don’t want to be bad anymore. It’s not fair.”

Her voice faded away as she did, as the black became everything.

I heard the door open. I heard her laugh. I heard an old man yell.

And then there was nothing.

Nothing except Momma, her arms always so soft and warm.

“It’s not fair.”





JOCLYN





11





“We are all going to die!”

“… You are going to lead us to the end!”

“We can’t follow her!”

My skin crawled as the voices ran over each other, the anger in the ruins of the cathedral boiling my blood, banging against what was left of the walls, shifting over the rock as everything shook underneath the weight of the wrath that was drowning the room. Drowning against the four of us as we stood on a large slab of what used to be roof; the large slab perched precariously on the rubble, only slightly above the hive of angry hornets below us, each one ready to sting, ready to kill.

It was a terrifying place to be, the fear already settling deep in my gut.

“Why hasn’t she been removed after she burned all of the Chosen in the hospital?” A tall Sk?íteks voice broke above all the others as he shoved his way to the front, jockeying for a better position, a fist fight braking out because of his forced entry.

Visibly cringing, I turned away from the once civil people, away from the pink light of dawn that was beginning to peek between the buildings. I moved my focus to Ilyan, Wyn, and Ryland, who seemed just as irritated with the state of the horde beneath us.

“You are going to let her kill us!”

My shoulders hunched as my stomach twisted painfully, the words hitting a little too close to home.

Just wait, m?j kamarád. I won’t stand for this for long, Ilyan’s voice rolled inside of me as shame riddled me. His irritation was clear as he stood side by side with the three of us, looking like he was little more than mildly irritated.

Oh, I know, I assured him. I’m well aware. It doesn’t change the fact that they are acting like immature killer rabbits, crying because we ran out of carrots.

Ilyan laughed at that, the chuckle loud and clear as Ry and Wyn looked between us in confusion.

I shrugged, willing to keep that joke to myself. Too bad the joy in it couldn’t last.

“She’s not a queen; she’s a tyrant.” The words hit against my back, seeping into me like poison.

Poison I was desperate to ignore.

“Guys,” I mused, cringing internally, gritting my teeth as I forced the humor out, “did you hear? I’m a tyrant. I guess I better start collecting taxes now or something.”

Ryland snickered at me, rolling his eyes the way he always did when I was being ridiculous. Ilyan, however, just stared at me, the joke lost due to another outburst from somewhere beneath us.

I ignored it.

“At least then we could take that vacation Ilyan was promising,” Wyn teased, her smirk widening as she threw her arm around my neck, the gloved hand waving wildly around my ear. “Make them pay for it.”