With those few words, my Drak magic flared, pulling me into a vision I had seen hours before, the colors and emotions of the space suffocating as everything shifted and changed: Wyn kneeling before Ryland’s unconscious body, a voice erupting around her, the pained sobs of a child that caused her to flinch the same way she had before. Her whole body rocked violently as the sight fluctuated, a child taking her place. The same little girl I had seen in the alley sitting right where she had, the same blade resting in her hands, the same blood covering them.
“Mommy.” The child’s voice cut through me, her eyes haunting as they turned toward me, pulling me out of the sight with a start, my chest heaving.
“Rosaline.”
I jumped as the heavy confirmation seeped from Ilyan’s mouth, his hands feeling like a dead weight against mine.
“Did you see?” I asked him.
“Yes. The blade is made from her soul,” Ilyan said with a nod, my question lingering unanswered between us. “She must think she can free her daughter somehow.”
“She is a fool,” Ryland hissed from beside us. “My father used that blade to control me, to torture Joclyn, to kill her brother. What does she think is going to happen to her? That Edmund somehow won’t take control? The second he knows she has it…” Ryland’s voice faded away, his eyes bright as they snapped right to his brother. The anger that rose up in him was so powerful I could feel it infect me like a virus before I was able to help him calm. “They spoke about getting her back to Edmund. He knows,” Ryland whispered, his eyes wide, the fearfulness in them growing deeper by the second.
“If Edmund has her, he also has her magic.” Ilyan straightened his shoulders as he rose up to his full height, the power in his eyes emanating around us. “I have no way of knowing if they aren’t all outside of our reach. Chances are, the three of them are gone, beyond the barrier, but we must let the guards know. We may still have a chance to find Wyn. We have to find her, some clue of where she is. Ryland, you are my second now.”
Ilyan placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Ryland straightened under the weight, his eyes wide in shock. “Take control of this situation. Get people looking. Let everyone know the change in Sain, what has happened, and get as many people searching for Wynifred as possible. Let them know she is dangerous and not to approach either her or Sain on their own. They need to come right to me.”
“Dangerous,” I repeated the word, knowing it wasn’t that far off, not after what happened in the cathedral.
I looked toward my hand, expecting my flesh to be falling off the bone again.
“Normally, I wouldn’t consider her as such, but given the situation…” Ilyan paused, his focus shifting between Ryland and I. “I can’t discount that she is either working for Edmund or being controlled by him until we find her.”
“It better be the second,” I growled, wishing my sight would pull me in and show me what was up. No such luck.
“Yes, my lord,” Ryland gasped, his voice seeming to be stuck in his throat.
“Ry,” Ilyan sighed, his tone clipped in agitation as he pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I am still your brother, and if you call me ‘my lord’ one more time, I will beat you up like the mortals do—boxing or whatever they call it. Heaven knows you need more of that in your life.”
Ryland nodded before moving away, winding his way through the few Skȓíteks who remained, beckoning them away, his hands moving fast as he began issuing orders.
As one, everyone exited the room, each one to their new tasks, Ryland trying his best to appear strong, while Ilyan and I walked hand in hand.
Nerves on the rise from what had been revealed, from everything Ilyan had said, from everything I had remembered, I continued on, barely paying attention to where Ilyan was leading me. Only to slip, my foot sliding to the side as the sound of breaking glass echoed somewhere from below me.
“What the …!” I said, barely catching myself as Ilyan clung to my hand for dear life, his heart rate accelerating in a panic deeper than what I would expect from a little fall. I wasn’t being attacked by one hundred forty Trpaslíks, after all, so the boy needed to calm down.
I would have chastised him, but I was already moving away from him, moving toward whatever I had stepped on. My magic pulled me as the power inside of me increased, the Drak power screaming.
It was a vial, a tiny glass thing filled with swirling green fluid that was dangerously close to leaking out thanks to a large crack along the side.
“Ilyan,” I called, my voice strangely hollow as my magic pulled. My fingers were inches away from picking up the thing when sight pulled into me. One simple image of Ovailia dropping the same green fluid onto Thom’s skin was all I needed to see.
“Mi lasko?” Ilyan’s voice pulled me out of the sight with the force of a gun, his fear escalating as I looked up to him, my eyes wide before I pointed down to the vial below us where the green was now spreading out and over the floor like syrup.
“Don’t touch it,” I instructed, my voice shaking with what I was about to say. “It’s what Ovailia used to hurt Thom. It’s what she was going to use on all of them.”
His eyes grew wider as I looked at him.
My sight pulled me forward, flashes of images I could barely make out, before Ilyan came back into focus.
My lips spread into a wide smile. “I think I can use it to save him.”
Sain’s ragged breathing echoed through the stone hallway we walked through, hitting against my back and grating on my nerves. I recoiled at the sound, at the way his feet dragged against the stone, the way they always had when he walked.
His left leg was slightly turned, dragging like he couldn’t quite lift it off the ground. This time, however, the scrape seemed to be a little bit more pronounced, the drag a little bit longer. He had always claimed it was from an injury. Right then, I wasn’t so certain. I no longer thought any of him was real.
The scrapes, the breathing, the tap of my heels, they all reverberated off the cave’s walls in a hollow rhythm that dug against me. My heartbeat increased to match the sounds, unfamiliar fear rising up in me as I second-guessed my decision to bring him here. Second-guess my decision to not kill him along with all the other Chosen children back at Ilyan’s now foiled safe house.
I probably should have after what I had seen him do, after what I had seen him become. After what he had shown me.
It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it from me in any case. He had embraced it. He had shown me a stronger man than I had ever seen before. He had shown me one of the many faces he carried in his pocket.
He had shown me who he truly was.
And all that he had done.
It was so much more than him “playing us” as my father had assumed, as I had assumed. It was so much more complicated than that. I had no idea what end game he was working toward, but one thing was clear—something as extreme as this would only end in his death, whether by my hand or my father’s. I wasn’t foolish enough to think my father would want to miss out on that opportunity. So, I had brought him here, only to second-guess myself.
My heart beat with the unfamiliar indecision, a painful force against my ribs that brought me to a stop. The turn in the cave was ahead, the one that would take us right to the hall that led to my father’s chambers where he would be waiting for us, waiting for a report.
Sain’s broken gait stopped no more than a moment after mine, the echo of our steps fading into nothing as I stood, unwilling to move.
“What are you?” I hissed into the silence, unsure if I was talking to myself or to the scapegoat behind me.
“I am a Drak.” His reply was heavy and commanding, the tempo of it much stronger than I had ever heard from him. The tap of his shoes resonated as he moved closer, a shiver moving through me at the missing sound of his false step. “I am the first of my kind. What are you?”
Without warning, his hand moved over my hair, his fingers soft as they ran down the long locks. It w
as a move that could have easily been confused with romance. My magic certainly pulled that way, his own connecting with mine in a move that had been nothing other than an act before, but suddenly, I wasn’t so positive.
With a shiver, I pulled away, turning to face the man who, as I had seen in the cathedral, looked neither weak nor old. He stared at me with a confidence and power that, before that moment, I would have never expected to see in him. My magic continued to pull toward him as if it could sense the change, as if it hungered for the strength he held.
My soul bristled angrily at the purposed heresy, heart pounding in my chest with all the irritation and fear I had in that moment.
It was a look that would send even my father’s most powerful servants into a cowering mess. It had definitely done Cail in on a number of occasions, but Sain stood there. He smiled, his body not so much as deviating a millimeter, the power behind his eyes rising.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he cooed, his voice a raging torrent as he moved forward, his gait strong and consistent as he closed the gap I had left between us.
My heart raced with each step he took, my mind begging me to attack him, to end this. My magic wanted anything but.
“What are you?” he parroted back to me. His face was now so close to mine all I could see was the deep green of his eyes.
The powerful mass of his magic pressed up against my own, trying to infiltrate, trying to connect with me. As I heaved from the proximity, my soul was keenly aware of the powerful change that affected him so deeply even his magic was different.
“Are you your father’s pet?” he asked.
“I am not his pet,” I barked, the anger finally plowing through the desire and painting my words with a dire warning.
“No? So you are his servant, then?” He spoke slowly as he moved closer, a smile creeping around his lips as he pushed against me, his hand hard against my hip.
“No.”
“So, you are like all the other Chosen. You are his slave.”
This time, I erupted, my anger boiling right to the surface as I rushed him. My skin heated against his in warning as I wrapped my hand around his neck, pushing him into the rough, stone wall we stood beside with a jolt of force and power.
His eyes widened in shock at the force, his smile still a grating insinuation as he looked down at me, not a drop of fear lining his face.
Clenching my teeth together in a foolish attempt to control my anger, I pressed him against the wall again, slamming his head against the stone. Again, the force didn’t even seem to bother him.
“I am not his servant,” I hissed, my anger continuing to boil due to his obvious lack of response.
“Then what are you?” His voice was strained as he heaved through the pressure I was placing on his neck, the deep rumble of his voice sounding like a laugh in my ears. “Because you seem like his slave. You do his dirty work. You take the punishments for each failure without question. You dote on him, and he what? Spits on you? Slices down that beautiful back of yours?”
Without warning, his hand snaked around me, even from where I held him against the wall. His fingers were soft as they moved under my shirt and up my spine, his magic a deep, powerful rumble as it moved into me. I sighed at the caress, my magic reacting with a powerful flare.
Attempting to focus, I stared at him, the glare fading as the Black Water within me reacted to his magic. The poison pressed against my spine as it tried to connect with the man who was the first of its power.
The pleasurable warmth his magic gave me shifted to pain as the magic reacted, my body jerking away from his in an attempt to escape the agony.
“Don’t touch me,” I barked in warning, my magic pressing against him aggressively and slamming him back into the wall again. A dull thud boomed through the cave at the impact, something I knew should have cracked his bone. However, his smile didn’t leave his face, his eyes bright with greed as he pushed my magic off him, his own ability pushing back with as much, if not more, force.
“So that is how you can see. He put the water inside of you … Beautiful.” His eyes grew wide and greedy as he took a step toward me, his fingers twitching as if he was holding back from grabbing me, from taking control of something that was his all along.
I stood before him, my heart thundering in my chest, back straight, as I tried to decide if I should attack him or not. It would be easier to turn him into my father and be done with it. But I couldn’t think, the pressure in my chest increasing with either option.
“So, a servant,” he mused, and my gut twisted at the insinuation. “But more than that, you are a science experiment, as well. He doesn’t value your existence at all.”
“Don’t spread such lies, Sain!” I shouted, my magic seeping from my fingers to spark against the stone in railroad tracks of lightning.
Sain didn’t even seem to notice my anger, notice the warning of my magic as it left me.
“You are worth so much more than that,” Sain whispered over the noise, his smile distorting his face as he took another step back. “So much more.”
“No!”
Sain’s eyes widened at my shout, his focus leaving me for no more than a second as he looked to the hall behind us. Fear was clear on his face before he stepped away, his back arching into the familiar cower, his shoulders hunching, his foot turning in.
The powerful man I had stood in front of a moment before wilted into what I had perceived as a pathetic weakling previously, the disguise one that had fooled me for centuries. Sain, I realized with a start, was more than a man giving false sights, more than a man manipulating the leaders on either side of this war, more than some pathetic game played by a pathetic man.
He was power.
Sain looked up at me as the loud, hollow noise of footsteps echoed through the hall behind us, the sound mounting as one of my father’s guards came to investigate the noise.
“Ovi,” Sain whispered, his voice deep and strong as he looked up at me from his folded position. “The water within you is strong, as strong as you are. No one else could hold that and use it like you have, like you can. He doesn’t see that. He doesn’t value that. He doesn’t care. But I see what you truly are. I see what you can become. Be alert, Ovi. No matter what you say, he will only use you. Don’t let him. I know another way.”
Frozen in place, I watched him, his voice echoing through me as the rhythm of the steps behind me ripped against my pulse. Sain had barely ceased to speak when he collapsed to the ground in body-seizing sobs.
“Ovailia!” Damek’s voice cut through the cries unexpectedly, my spine jerking as I turned toward him, all of the confusing emotions swirling though me as I fought the need to take everything out on the man before me. It was something that was a real possibility, and judging by the fear that overtook the despicable man’s face, it was something he expected.
He withdrew under my gaze, his eyes wide with fear as the sound of Sain’s forced sobs continued to ring around us.
I couldn’t help smiling at the fear that crossed over Damek’s face. At least I knew I could still make people wilt before me.
“How many times have I told you,” I snarled, the fear on his face increasing with each word, “not to call me that?”
“Yes, my lady.” He cowered, his back moving into a curve so low I was certain he had been practicing.
Damek recoiled in a movement so eerily similar to the man who lay whimpering on the cave floor behind me that I stiffened. My magic flitted between the two of them with the same confusion I had been fighting, a decision I never thought I would have to make becoming clear.
“I’ll be a good servant,” Sain sobbed, the words so clear through his cries that I knew what his intentions were. I knew what he was trying to do. More than that, I knew what I had to do.
Sain’s twisted game weaved around me as I stepped toward him, kicking the point of my heel into his ribs with such force that I was confident I heard something crack.
His pain
screamed against the rock and ricocheted back to me even louder than before.
“I’ll be good. Trust me. Trust me.”
“Pick him up,” I ordered my father’s guard who still cowered behind me like the mongrel he was. “I am certain my father is expecting us.”
Damek nodded before he walked over to the old man, his magic surging powerfully as Sain jumped and screamed in pain, his body writhing with whatever the sadistic man was doing to him.
Unexpectedly, my heart jerked, an unfamiliar knot in my stomach springing to life at the sound of his pain, a remorse I never thought I would feel digging into me.
I tried to ignore it, but with each scream, it strengthened until I was sure I would kill Damek and run if I had to endure another moment of his games.
“Damek, don’t play with the food,” I spat, my voice shaking uncontrollably at what I had done, at the emotion that had taken over me.
I tried to hide the shake, tried to hide the emotion, but Damek heard, anyway, his eyes a thin line as he turned to face me, the lapse in judgment unmissed.
“I’m not the only one who’s playing with him, it seems.” Eyes narrowing in warning, he stood before me, even though, this time, he did not recoil.
The twist in my stomach intensified.
“I don’t like having to constantly remind you of your role with me, Damek,” I hissed, my voice a hard line as I pushed the emotion away, spitting his name out like acid. “You do what I say. You listen to what I ask.”
“No offense, my lady”—his words were as hard as my own, his eyes digging into me as he took a step closer—”but I am your father’s guard, not yours.”
Damek’s smile was wide and greasy as he moved away, Sain dragged behind him on a tow of magic. His voice was loud as he howled in what I assumed was genuine pain. That was, until he looked up at me, his eyes wide and strong even as he cried.
Tension bound me as my magic stretched to him, as his eyes locked me in place, the words he had said before echoing through me with the force of a drum. “Trust me!”
Sain’s sobs returned as we turned the corner, his body joining the panic again as we moved through the wide hall that led to my father’s quarters. The hall was as destroyed and disheveled as it had been for the last few months. Ilyan’s former belongings were thrown about, piled in ripped and broken heaps of rubbish, smears of blood and who knew what else splattered over them. It was all foreshadowing what I was really walking into.
Dawn of Ash Page 28