Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(10)

I didn’t look back. I didn’t dare. I only had a matter of minutes before they would regain their strength. I needed to draw them off my path while I figured out what I needed to do next.

I attempted to slow my heartbeat as I ran, but it was no use. Edmund was inside the caves of Prague, and now, he was after me – if anything my panic only increased.

They were here. There was no safety here anymore. Edmund had gotten past Ilyan's protections, and Ovailia was the one to guide him through.

Ovailia had betrayed us all.

My soul froze as screaming began to fill the halls. The sounds of fear, loss, and battle exploded through the once safe halls.

I could easily hide, stay back, and stay safe. But even if I did, it wouldn’t benefit anyone. Not even me.

There was no safety here anymore. There was no place to hide. I needed to get everyone out of here.

I needed to get out of here. But I couldn’t, not without Talon.

The screams increased as I continued to move through the halls. I knew bigger things were at play here, and I needed to stop them. Stopping my father, and stopping Edmund was my only way to get Talon back.

The cave vibrated as the battle increased, screams ricocheting around the stone halls as the battle broke out all around me.

Edmund’s final execution had begun. Only one race stood between him and the wells of Imdalind, and if Edmund had his way, there would be nothing left by the time the sun had risen.

Edmund had started a war, and I was not going to back down.





Chapter Three





I ran through the halls toward the screams, the shouts increasing in strength and number the closer I was to the battle. I couldn’t deny the throb within me that wished to run into my father, to end this before it even had a chance to begin.

Each step I took thundered through the underground tunnels, shaking lamps and doors, each step recharging my magic and sending magical currents surging through my body.

Flashes of light filtered along the dark stone that surrounded me, the screams chasing the shapes as they rippled through the once dark halls. I passed a raging fire, not willing to see what was keeping the blaze going. I turned and ran, my feet taking me toward the loudest concentration of noise where I was sure I would find the battle; but the state of the hallway in front of me froze me in place.

This was where it had begun. I could tell by the splatter of red on the walls, the screams that still lingered in the air, and the lifeless bodies of my friends that littered the ground, left to die with no one to hold them.

I stepped around them, my eyes trying to look away from each heartbreaking expression but unable to do so.

I fought the panic that rose in me, the hopelessness that tried to take hold, instead choosing to let my anger and conviction fuel me. I tiptoed around at least twenty of my friends; selfless people who had taken me in and loved me after my father had tried to kill me. My father. He had brought enough Trpaslíks into Imdalind to begin and end a massacre in one swipe. My logic begged me to hide, to wait until the battle slowed, until I could find Talon and we could escape.

I turned into another hall as I pulled out my phone, my feet picking up pace. My heart beat erratically as hate and anger fluctuated through me in a surge that only hyper-activated my magic.

The phone rang in my ear as I ran, the loud thrum vibrating through my head and mixing with the frantic beat of my heart.

"Pick up," I growled to myself, turning a corner as I made my way towards a seldom-used row of apartments. "Pick up, Jos! Jos, pick up the phone!”

“Wynifred! What’s going on?” I had never been so happy to hear Ilyan's voice. I could have kissed him, cried into him, and thanked him for saving us, but I knew he couldn't save us. I wasn't calling for a savior; I was calling with a warning.

“Ilyan? Oh thank heavens!” I yelled into my phone, one knot in my stomach loosening while another one tightened.

“Wynifred?” Ilyan boomed, his commanding voice seeping into me through the phone. “Where is Talon?”

“They got him, Ilyan," I panted as I ran, my eyes threatening tears. I would not cry, not right now. I hated that Ilyan asked the one question that would trigger the emotion in me right now. "They took him. I think...”

I turned from the darkened hallway into a place that was never used, a place I had hoped I could hide, only to find my father standing in the middle of the dark stone walled room. My words dropped off my tongue as I saw him there; the fear that twisted through me lessening my power for a moment. It was a moment too long.

A loud crack echoed through my ears as a powerful attack impacted on my spine and sent me across the large room to collide with the rock wall in front of me. My head hit the wall, my bones and joints rattling hard enough to vibrate through me in a claw of pain. The pressure increased as I hung there, Timothy and Ovailia’s laughter loud in the quiet space.

“No! Please don’t!” I screamed, feeling them come right up behind me. The force on me increased and my scream followed, louder this time.

“Father! Please don’t!" I shouldn't beg. I knew it was pointless. "Don’t let them hurt me.”

The words left my mouth and I was flung through the air again, my hands sparking as I attempted to find someone, anyone, to attack. But the movement was too quick, the flight too short, and before I knew it, I was stretched out on the hard floor, my father restraining my hands above my head and Ovailia standing over me in an oppressive straddle.