Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(95)

Ilyan stepped toward me, his eyes smoldering as he wrapped his arms around my waist. His lips hot against my forehead, he pulled me into him.

I know, Ilyan. I shouldn’t be questioning this.

“The barrier is down; nothing is stopping us,” Wyn said, pulling me from my worries as she came right up to Ilyan and me, dragging Thom with her. Poor Ryland looked irritated as he followed behind. “What’s the plan?”

“We need to find Sain,” Ilyan began, his magic surging inside of me from the exhilaration of the moment. “I have a feeling that, based on what Joclyn saw, we need to find and secure Ovailia, as well—”

“Secure her?” Ryland interrupted, his green tint increasing as his anger boiled over.

“That better be a fancy word for kill her,” Thom snapped.

At least I knew his volatile anger hadn’t been affected by his three-month long coma sabbatical.

“Agreed.” Ryland glanced toward Thom appreciatively. Both seemed happy to have an ally.

I wasn’t really looking forward to this. I had seen Thom and Ilyan duke it out over Ovailia already, and adding Ryland to the mix seemed far too unpredictable.

“She doesn’t deserve to live, not after what she has done,” Ryland stated.

“I do not disagree with you, but she is our sister,” Ilyan announced as if the simple statement was enough to put the debate to rest.

Ryland and Thom fumed more, and I took a step back on habit. This was not my fight, and I was not interested in joining in. Besides, I wanted her dead, too. Dead before she could reach Ilyan. I knew Ilyan would not approve of that.

“Edmund was our father,” Ryland said, his voice shaking. “And Sain is Joclyn’s. That doesn’t change anything.”

“Killing nine people instead of ten does not give her reason to live, Ilyan,” Thom retorted, his chest puffing out in irritation.

“Hey!” Wyn interrupted with a snap, her magic fuming as her eyes grew darker than night. “Watch who you are judging about ‘the number of kills.’ ”

Thom wilted underneath her retort, his mouth opening wide and his will to fight disappearing with a snap and a grunt. His nostrils flared in an attempt to conceal his anger.

Ryland looked between them in confusion, his anger rising due to the sudden abandonment of his partner in crime.

“Wynifred is correct.” Ilyan nodded once toward her before stepping back into the center of all of us. “I am not saying she will not meet her end. But she has done good for us in the past—”

“For her benefit,” I interrupted him without thinking, tension moving within my chest in sudden regret.

Ilyan gave me a sidelong glance, his irritation at my outburst clear.

Rolling my eyes, I looked away, feeling even worse because of the supportive looks from Thom and Ryland gave me.

“Capture Ovailia if possible. Kill her if you must. We have had enough death, and it would do well for us to limit it,” Ilyan continued, his voice a hard line of authority.

I suddenly wished I could melt right then and there.

Ryland said nothing more than a grumble. Thom’s lips were a tight line as his eyes met their brother’s head-on. Ilyan was a good head taller than them both, but it didn’t seem to faze them. I, however, stood silently to the side, carefully blocking my mind from Ilyan, grateful he was focused on something else for the moment.

I knew he meant well. I knew the fear of losing his sister, of losing his family. Hell, I had just buried my brother. However, I couldn’t stand by and watch her kill him. If it meant saving his life, I would gladly end hers.

“Once again,” Ilyan continued, the power in his voice deflating the two men before him. “We need to find Sain and apprehend Ovailia and possibly Míra—”

“Wait. Míra’s alive!” Ryland interrupted with a snap.

This time, he was silenced with one look, Ry’s jaw snapping closed. I had a feeling, judging by the anger that was moving within Ilyan, the motion wasn’t entirely his choice.

“Yes, and we are running out of time. People are dying, Ryland. We can’t argue this anymore. We need to move.”

“Let Thom and me find Sain,” Wyn interjected, obviously willing the conversation forward. “We will find him, Ilyan. You know we will defeat him.”

Ilyan smiled, a wicked gleam of power clear in his eyes. The altercations of before seemed forgotten as the two of them stood there, grinning like fools at the possibilities.

Wyn’s magic mounted into a flame that heated the air, melting the snow from the sky and burning the grass around us into shriveled black points.

“Watch it, Wyn,” I said, stepping away from the ring of energy before it hit me. “We’ve already destroyed a barrier today; I’m uncertain how much more we can do or if we want anyone finding us up here.”

“Point taken,” Wyn concurred, withdrawing her magic with a snap, her bracelets jangling with the movement.

“You and Thom will have your chance, Wyn. I need you and Jos to stutter into the camp on the other side of Prague.” Ilyan turned back to the still smoldering tents, the power in his eyes matching the flames that licked the air. “Then I will fly in with Thom and Ryland. When you find him, Joclyn will guide us to you.” He was alive with the idea, exhilarated for what was to come.