Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(66)

“You ready?” I asked, surprised at the deep timbre of confidence that had come back to my voice.

“We will need to get to the Rioseco Abbey,” Sain said as he came to stand by me.

“I don’t suppose you know where that is?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

“It is in Spain.” Great.

Spain. Half a continent away.

I didn’t look toward him. I just stood still, unwilling to move, as the footsteps thundered down the stairs.

I could feel the strength of the earth flow through me, my control of the fire magic stronger then I could ever remember it being. I let it pulse through me, building to a flame. When the guard appeared at the foot of the stairs, his eyes wide and confused as to what had happened, I didn’t move. I just let the magic surge, turning the man into ash.

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. I had forgotten how addicting taking a life could be.

“Was that really necessary?” Sain asked, his voice torn between disgust and humor.

“He would have done the same to us,” I said as I began to move forward, Sain following right on my tail. “If you don’t like it, don’t travel with a trained killer.”

“As long as that assassin doesn’t turn her skill on me, I think I will be happy.” He wasn’t worried. His voice was light and airy, and I could tell at once that he had seen something.

I took one last look at Talon, at the body of the man I loved, the only one who was strong enough to love me back. My heart beat once in silent farewell, the heavy pulse thick against the fragile skin of my chest.

It was one last goodbye.

I ignored the sadness and let my anger fuel me. I lead us up the staircase and into the thankfully empty guards’ room. The room looked the same as it had the day I washed the sheet, the eerie light bouncing off the jagged edges of the stone.

I let my magic surge outward, searching for anyone nearby. No one else was close, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“We should move,” Sain spoke from behind me, and I didn’t challenge it. I walked out of the room and into the first of many dimly lit halls, Sain on my heels. I kept my magic alert, each step of my bare feet against the rock on the floor giving me a clear map of where we were in relation to everyone else within the mountain.

There was a clear path laid out, a direct path, right to the exit – to freedom. As it stood, we wouldn’t run into anyone, we would simply leave.

I began moving us in that direction before I felt it, the gentle tug of a magic that I knew all too well. It surged through my feet as it called to me, the magic of the earth making its presence known. Cail and my father were tucked away somewhere deep in the caves.

Cail’s sacrifice ran through my head. Kill Timothy first. I raised my left hand and stared at the marks on my skin, the jagged edges strong where the zánik curse was bound into my skin. My brother had done that and in doing so had severed his mind into two halves. He had done it to protect me, in the hopes that he would someday be saved in return.

I had two paths before me, one to certain freedom, and one in the service of my brother.

With the power in my veins, the only thing that could stop me was Edmund, and he was safely tucked inside the bowels of the caves in search of the wells of Imdalind.

Imdalind.

I don’t know how, but he hadn’t found them yet. I could stop everything before it even began.

“Which have you chosen?” Sain said. “The path of light or that of dark?” The reference to his sight was jagged and unwanted.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, old man,” I said, my voice hard. “I am choosing the path that makes the most sense.”

I tapped my toes once against the ground, a surge of power and energy rushing away from me. It flowed through the rock before it exploded into the large cavern that held the orchard, the whole thing going up in flames with a loud explosion that shook the entire mountain. I couldn’t help but smile at the surge of power, Sain jumping at the distant noise. His sharp intake of breath increased my smile before he laughed, soft and joyful. I guess that meant I made the right decision.

I tapped my toes against the stone once more, confirming that my father had moved away from Cail in his attempt to find out what had happened. My jaw clenched as I felt him move closer, the wicked desire for blood I had lost when my memories were bound coming back strong. I was ready. Timothy would be walking in front of us in three… two… one…

His quick steps moved him through the tall doorway of an adjacent hallway, but he didn’t even make it past the archway before my magic had grabbed him and pulled him into the darkened space Sain and I hid in, flattening him against the rock.

He caught one sight of me and opened his mouth in a scream, a scream that never left his throat. I placed my hand against his mouth, my magic pushing the small black omezující stone into his belly before it flared and burned his vocal cords to a crisp and he could draw breath.

“Hello, father,” I taunted, cocking my head to the side in amusement.

His eyes widened as he tried to move against my bindings, the strength incapacitating him. I smiled, my eyes flashing at the sudden reversal of roles.

He deserved this. My blood pulsed strongly in expectation and my smile grew.

“What? Are you not going to say hello?”

Timothy’s pupils dilated in panic as he looked at me, the scream of pain and fear that he could never muster lost somewhere deep inside of him.