Burnt Devotion (Imdalind, #5)(58)

Like I had known this space all along.

Ilyan said nothing as he grabbed my hand, leading me into the antiquated place. Then the groan of the iron doors closed behind us so loud I was surprised no one turned to look. It was like they hadn’t even heard, something which I was sure was far more than likely.

With my feet slipping on cobblestones as I tried my hardest to take everything in while keeping with Ilyan’s pace, my eyes moved from place to place like little ping-pong balls as Ilyan led me through the ancient square—the old stone houses, the antiquated carvings above each door, the old fountain that stood on the other end of the courtyard. I wished we could get closer to it. I wanted to inspect the medieval animals that spouted streams of water from their mouths, but Ilyan plowed ahead, taking us into a dim alley, following right behind Wyn and Ryland who looked to be running. Not that I blamed them.

Even though I had been so absorbed by the city, by the happiness of Ilyan’s memories, I could still feel the heavy beat of my heart. I could still feel the worry that raged through Ilyan. I could still see the vivid images of my sight.

I picked up my pace as Ilyan did. His hand tightened around mine as we moved farther into the dark and around the corner that Wyn had disappeared behind only moments before.

The alley stopped in an abrupt line of light and dark, the towering buildings falling away as we moved into a wide street with the same cobbles lining the road. Nearly identical rows of apartments grew from the dirty stone street as if they were no more than planted flora. They stretched to the sky, the dimming blue tinged with red from the setting sun. It almost felt claustrophobic, as though the buildings were falling round us, enclosing us away from the golden light of dusk.

It was then, as the light from the setting sun broke in golden flecks over the red shingled eaves of the houses, that the world broke out in screaming.

I stopped running before Ilyan did, my blood flaring in memory and magic as the Drak in me awakened, as the sight replayed itself as though someone was fast forwarding through an old home movie.

Everything seemed frozen to the spot as the screaming increased, the sound coming in ripples from before us, the earth shaking beneath us in what I was sure the mortals were assuming to be an earthquake. I knew better.

The sound of their fear moved down the street toward us in a flood of sound I knew at once we couldn’t escape. My heart raced in a pulse of panic as my muscles tensed in agony at the sounds, the panic, and the exhilarated fear moving over me.

I barely recognized Ilyan moving into protective position, his magic flaring angrily as he tried to figure out what had happened and, more importantly, what he could do.

Nothing.

He could do nothing.

“It’s starting,” I said, but I wasn’t sure if the words were mine or that of my sight. The depth of my voice was entirely dead.

I had barely spoken before the golden light of the sunset, the light that had been seen so clearly in my sight, was sucked from the sky and replaced with a sheet of red. The color was thick and all-encompassing, as though someone had thrown a thin blanket over the world.

I looked toward the sun on instinct, the red tinged orb that was trying to sink behind the skyline. As the earth rattled beneath me, the strength of a distant explosion rumbled through the ground as the red blanket of sky was streaked with pillars of black.

Thousands of winged creatures cut through the sky, through the red veil, descending on the city.

Devouring the city.

Devouring us.





Fourteen


I stared at the tower of Vil?s in horror, my jaw tightening as I waited for it to end, for the sight to pull me back into reality. However, I knew it wasn’t a sight, that the screams and the pillar of diseased Vil?s were all terrifyingly real.

Panic engrossed the city as, one after another, more columns began to erupt into the sky. The blasts of the distant explosions, the shaking of the earth underneath our feet, and the blood red hue to the sky only increased the already rapid rate of my heart.

The creatures poured into the sunset on all sides of us, streaking over the blood red sky like bats, flocks of winged monsters encapsulating the city from all sides.

Enclosing us in.

Trapping us.

Even if we wanted to escape the city, there was no chance of that happening now.

Edmund had drawn us here.

To this.

Ilyan had been right. I had been right.

It was a trap, and we had walked right into it.

I looked toward the street I had seen Wyn fleeing through only moments before, but she was nowhere to be seen.

What had been a joyful, European city was now nothing except chaos. People ran blindly as they tried to escape an unknown enemy. Running into buildings, trying to start cars, many frozen as they looked up to the sky, fear keeping them in place. The screams, the chaos only increased as the first of the Vil?s hit the ground around them like wet rags then came to life with terrifying speed.

Wings unfurled, bodies glistened, teeth gnashed, and their sharp claws attached themselves to the humans like locusts, biting, ripping, and tearing at their flesh as they infected them with their poison. The once revered “kiss” was placed upon them like a disease, infecting them and their newly born magic with the same infection the Vil?s held.

Edmund was creating his army.

I had seen sight after sight reveal itself before my eyes. I had been amazed and taken back by my own power. But this? This should have stayed hidden in the shadows of the Drak blood I held. This should have never come to pass.