Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(7)

“They have found something near her heart, similar to where Edmund placed his ?tít within Cail.” Ilyan’s voice was even and powerful as he addressed the four of us. I could feel his power ripple off him, the energy from him seeping into me.

“Edmund put a ?tít in a child?” Wyn said with a snap, her magic moving amidst the confined space, drowning me. “Again?”

I gasped at the intensity, at the anger that had weaved its way around it, steeling my magic in preparation for who knew what. I was also aware I couldn’t take her on if it came to that.

The whole “explode on contact” thing was going to be irritating after a while.

“No, Wyn, Edmund put a ?tít in a weapon.” Ryland’s voice was a death knell as he stared into the darkness of the alley somewhere over my head, his eyes so shaded my heart skipped a beat. A jolt of electricity moved within me as my mind went to the exact same place as his. To the same place that little girl had come from: the hell that Edmund had put inside our minds. “It wasn’t a coincidence,” Ryland continued, his voice pinched as he narrowed his eyes on the alley behind us, as if the overgrown passage between the hospital and outer wall had offended him. “Father sent her here. I’ve seen this before,” His voice was still a hollow shell, although he was in control of himself far more than I had seen him lately when concerning his father.

“So have I,” Wyn admitted, all signs of the goofball teenager gone now. “It was one of the first things we did before I killed the Drak—put a ?tít in one of the younger ones … took control.”

I shuddered and fought the need to step behind Ilyan. Instead, I straightened my spine and gritted my teeth in anxious worry. It was something unmissed by Ilyan who turned toward me, a small smile playing on his lips while his eyes danced with pride. The same emotion circled into each of us before the concern came back ten-fold.

“That’s more than a problem, Ilyan.” Risha’s eyes were hard as she came to stand beside Ryland, her shoulder pressing against his in what I was convinced was a comforting move. His eyes calmed at the contact. “That’s a freaking explosion.”

“She hasn’t exploded yet.” Ilyan sighed, turning to each of us, his eyes hard with the volatile anger that was so normal for him as of late. “Besides, I’m not sure she can.”

“What do you mean?” Ryland asked, the darkness fading from his eyes.

“It appears to be a ?tít, and it is in the same place as Edmund placed it inside of Cail. It is the right size, but it’s a shell, a hollow void. There is nothing there.”

Everyone looked at Ilyan in confusion. His jaw was a tight line as his mind moved around mine, a million questions flooding me as he tried to process and understand what that meant.

“A hollow ?tít?” Wyn asked, writhing her hands one over the other, her eyes narrowed in pain. “As in, there is no magic in it? He sure likes to poke holes in things.”

“Not that we can tell.” It was then that he looked at me, his eyes sad and apologetic, the hidden remainder of his thoughts moving through me.

“No,” I gasped, understanding what was needed of me.

His apology grew deeper.

Unwanted panic rose up in my chest, bitter as bile. I gritted my teeth as I turned from him, staring into the darkness as Ryland had done before, the same chill of my past running over me.

Haunting me.

I knew it was an overreaction. I had faced Edmund head to head. I had prepared myself to kill him.

And I would.

But feeling his magic inside of me … “I’d rather gouge my eyes out than feel his magic again,” I said aloud, the grumble of irritation strong.

You know his magic better than anyone, m?j kamarád. Even me. You can see what I might have missed.

“That seems kind of excessive.” Wyn leaned against the wall I was staring at in an attempt to break my death stare. “Your eyes are far too beautiful for gouging. Take it from someone who has a gouging injury, they hurt. I wouldn’t recommend it. Besides, I have no idea if this gouging is justified because you are doing it again.”

“Doing what?” I snapped, trying to ignore the shivers of my magic that were vibrating inside me, the hunger to destroy the man in question clear.

At least the residual panic at the thought of feeling his magic was leaving. I hated when those past scars made themselves known.

“Secret mind swapping. Again. Pass the Kool-Aid, why don’t you? Then at least everyone can join in.”

When I pulled my focus away from the nothing, her small, smug face came into view, her eyebrows lifted in playful prodding.

“He wants me to see if I can find Edmund’s magic inside of her.” I filled in the gaps with a snap, still too frustrated to give into her oddities.

“Well, then.” All the joy was sucked out of Wyn’s voice now, the playfulness gone again. “Gouge away. Although, I wouldn’t suggest using a Soul’s Blade. Those things sting.” She waved her hand absently before moving away, her short, auburn hair bouncing in the shadows.

At least Wyn understood how horrifying a proposition Ilyan had put in front of me.

I know you can do this. Ilyan’s hand was soft against my back as he came up behind me, the weight of his palm strong.

I know I can, too. It doesn’t mean I want to. As I leaned into him, he turned us back toward the others, the three of them standing in the shadows with differing looks of confusion and anger covering their faces.