Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)(89)

I was gone before she could respond. I left the shield over her body as I took off through the door, only to signal for Ryland to follow me. We flew out through the window, my body speeding through the air to land in the large courtyard, the camps of the Trpaslíks glittering in the forest behind us.

Dirt and rocks exploded into the air on my landing, the ground rocking with my anger at what was unfolding before me.

Ovailia stood in the center of the garden ruins, her feet having taken her out of the Abbey and directly into the path of an escaped pair seeking shelter.

I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw them.

Sain and Wynifred.

Sain was on the ground between Ovailia and me, his hair long and shaggy, a long beard plastered on his face. He looked even more haggard than when he had sought me out to tell me of Joclyn’s existence. He cried toward Ovailia, pleading with her in Czech, French, and Mandarin only for Ovailia to counter each plea angrily, her arms moving around and tossing a small, weak-looking figure through the air with each gesture.

Wynifred screamed as Ovailia flung her around, her body writhing in pain as she flopped through the air. Wynifred was weak, her clothes dirty and bloodstained, but it was the marks on her skin that yelled danger to me. They were what was causing her pain, not Ovailia.

The jagged spirals and flares had begun to move and shift, the dark black shifting over her skin like a living infection. I knew at once what had happened. When Cail had died his lock on the zánik curse had been removed. The marks were releasing their poison into her body, and after a hundred years, the curse was going to complete itself and end in Wynifred’s death.

Once again, I was going to fail in my task to save someone. After hundreds of years working for me, Wynifred’s sacrifice was going to be for nothing.

“Ovi! Let her go!” Sain’s voice broke through the night air, his back to me as he yelled, his body doubled over as if he had just been attacked, which, judging by the look on Ovailia’s face, I wouldn’t doubt.

“Wyn! You’re hurting her, Ovi!” Sain pleaded as I walked passed him, Ryland’s steps stopping as he lowered himself to help the old man.

“Oh, hello, Ilyan.” Ovailia spoke as if she was simply weeding a garden, not holding Wyn’s body limply by her side. “Look what I found. She looks like she’s hurt, and strangely, I think she remembers everything.”

She held up Wynifred’s small frame just as the girl yelled again. I moved toward her slowly, careful to keep my steps even, my face strong. I could tell by the look in her eyes that Ovailia had snapped. I needed to get Wynifred away from her before she did something stupid.

“It looks like someone hurt Cail. After all his hard work too...poor Cail. Daddy won’t like that.” She smiled at me, her hold keeping Wyn’s body dangling as she yelled.

“Daddy doesn’t like it when you keep things from him. I don’t like it either.” She smiled, her eyes darting between Sain and myself. I knew what was coming. She had no need for a cover; I had thrown her out of the Abbey. Now she could say what was on her mind. I waited for the onslaught, waited for her to retreat so I could move closer and help Wynifred.

“Don’t you?” I couldn’t keep from answering. I didn’t even try to keep the cutting edge out of my voice. At any other time, I would have at least tried, but Ovailia was staking her side. She was preparing herself for battle, so I let my maniacal power overtake me for a minute, making Ovailia flinch when she saw the look in my eyes.

“I thought you didn’t like to wake the dead?”

“Maybe you should have let me die,” She yelled, her face coming within an inch of my own.

“I didn’t make that decision for you, Ovailia.” My voice was hard and distant as I took two more steps nearer her.

“Well you will,” she smiled, “Because, I am coming right for you, with your worst enemy on my heels,” she said, her face glowing with the expectation of victory.

I just stared at her as she smiled, her warning mixed with Wyn’s yells, ringing in my ears. I couldn’t wait any longer.

With one blink of my eyes, I sent her flying, Wyn’s body falling briefly before I caught her and brought her into my arms. Ovailia’s yell rang in my ears as she righted herself, her posture strong as she defiantly faced me.

“Goodbye, Ovailia.” It was all she needed to hear, her smile increasing before she stormed off to disappear into the forest.

I never saw her go. I never took another look at my sister; I just turned toward the Abbey, Wynifred cradled in my arms. Her yells broke through the night as she writhed, the marks continuing their decent into her soul.

I seeped my magic into her, only to be burned by the powerful magic. The slow death her father had cast against her all those years ago had only become stronger. I withdrew my magic, not even able to numb her pain.

“Ian.” I looked down at her, surprised to hear my code name from the centuries she had spied for me.

“Tell Thom I’m sorry.” She barely got the words out before she cried out incoherently again.

“He’s here, Wynifred.” I am not even sure she could hear me, but I needed her to know that her last moments would not be alone.

I looked back at Ryland and Sain, Sain rushing forward intent to help her in any way he could, evident on his face. However, I knew it was no use. The curse was too strong. It had only grown stronger with time, and after a hundred years, there was no hope.