Pushing her out of my mind, I forced my focus back to the pits, back to the men who were now walking onto the field, back to the deathly silence that had suddenly taken over the space.
George and Bronislav walked into the center of the pit, the sound of their steps against the blood-soaked dirt so thunderous I could hear them echo off the metal stands. They ricocheted, the tone of fearful exhilaration so loud now that I could swim in it.
I looked down at the men as they looked up at me. Their faces were filled with gaunt exhilaration. Bronislav’s smile was visible from under his beard, the look so out of character for him that I could laugh.
And I did.
I laughed.
I laughed in the silence with a deep belt of humor. I laughed over the tension, and everyone in the stands turned to face me, their previous countenances of eager bloodlust vanishing into confusion and fear.
I didn’t stop laughing as I rose from my pillows, and the robe caught in the breeze, sending my magic out from me in a powerful, impenetrable shield. Keeping the magic steady and strong, I stepped forward over the metal bleachers, dancing and jumping until I stood atop the lowermost tier, facing the usurpers and all of their minions, all of whom were ready to rip my head from my shoulders, all of them blissfully unaware of what was coming for them.
“Friends,” I yelled, my voice a boom over the nonexistent chatter of the crowd. I lifted my arms in wide vulnerability. “You wonderful friends, I knew I could trust you to put together this wondrous event! You have done it! What an amazing way to celebrate the people we have become! To celebrate the possibilities that are before us.”
Keeping the widest smile I could, I plastered on all the sugar, sharing the feigned gratitude in a slather that they gobbled up. My smile was exuberant.
“You have done such a wonderful job that I would like to give you something,” I began, the sugar that had dripped from my words leeching into acid, rancid tones that weren’t missed. “A gift if you will.”
All signs of the jovial character I had created vanished in a flash. Arms falling, I then lifted a large, red blade from my pocket, the same blade I had used to destroy Edmund, the same one they had all seen protruding from the chest of his corpse.
Visibly, they stiffened. Even Damek jerked from where he stood in the corner. Quick side-glances pulsed between the men below me as Bronislav shifted his feet, debating whether or not to run. I wished he would.
Twisting the blade in my fingers like a parade baton, I took a step down onto the narrow metal rail that separated the stands from the large open pit the two men stood in. It was a sheer drop of at least fifteen feet from where I stood, pacing and dancing on the narrow line. With the shield still tightly pressed against me, I waited for the first attack.
“It’s the best kind of gift. Would you like it?” I asked as I jumped along the railing, the red blade reflecting the color of death over the stands as it spun between my fingers.
I expected the scared men to begin whatever pathetic attempt at a rebellion they had planned, knowing the pride of the Trpaslíks. Instead, Bronislav nodded in agreement. The smile was gone from his lips as he narrowed his eyes at me.
Well, that was unexpected. No matter. Slight changes were meaningless. They were still walking into death, and being close enough to see the look on their faces when death met them face to face was an added bonus.
My heart thundering wildly in my chest, I jumped, the wind and magic catching me as I soared down to the pits, landing lightly before the two men. All signs of their fear were gone as they smiled at me, their eyes glistening as though they already thought they had won, something I was content to let them believe for now.
Bronislav held out his hand the moment I landed. When I stepped toward him, the man smiled, the look in his eyes giving him away so obviously I laughed, the sound cutting into them. As close to them as I was, I could see them wilt. I could see their supposed victory slip between their fingers.
“Oh,” I said, my voice dark as I let it rattle over the stands, hitting all of them. “You thought this was the gift?”
My laugh continued, pressing against them and wilting their souls as I twirled the blade once in my hand before tucking it into my pocket. The men watched the movement, their eyes widening as their jaws began to open and close in panic and fear.
They thought it would be that easy.
Fools.
“No, no, no, no.” I clicked my tongue with each word as I shook my head.
Circling around them, I looked up at the stands, my heart thundering pleasantly due to the mirrored look from all those above me as well as below. Panic, confusion—they all felt them. Now I needed the last piece to fall into place. I needed the fear to come. Then they would be mine. Luckily, that piece was steps away.
“This is not your prize. I have a prize for all of you!” I yelled to the crowd as I stopped in place, the backs of the two Trpaslíks to my left, bare and vulnerable. “Ovailia! Come, my darling. Let us show them!” My voice rang throughout the stadium, my eyes cast toward the large door I had hidden Alojz behind earlier that day. My heart thundered in my ears, excitement ringing as I waited for the doors to swing wide, for my creation to enter.
There was nothing.
Nothing but silence.
“Ovailia!” I yelled, the single word echoing around the silent space, banging against the two men beside me, against everyone in the stands, wiping the panic from their faces, smearing it over my chest in a coating so thick I was having trouble breathing. This is not what happened in the sight.
This was not what I had seen.
“No,” I gasped, the word swallowed by the laughter that had begun to pop around the stands, little titters that quickly began to multiply.
“You’re right,” Bronislav said from behind me, his own laugh clear. “This is a wonderful gift. I’ll have to thank Ovailia for abandoning you. We hadn’t planned on that.”
“What had you planned on?” I snapped, turning toward the man, the robe rippling behind me. I expected them to cower, but they both stood, smiling, looking far too smug and proud.
I would smack that look off their pretty little faces.
“This,” Georg said with a smile, his arms folding over his chest as something hit me in the back and pain swept over my ribs and down my spine.
Someone stabbed me in the back.
OVAILIA
22
“Do it now.” Damek’s whispered words followed me into the underbelly of the stadium, locked inside my head as I was locked out of Sain’s little alcove. All with the snap of a door. A snap that ricocheted painfully inside my head, mixing with the angry thunder of my heartbeat and the rapid pulse of my breathing.
As if I needed another reason to go through with our plan. As if I needed another reason to destroy that man.
No matter what pain awaited me on the other side of this choice, I couldn’t say no. It was worth it if only for the chance to see him bleed.
I always knew his promises of regality and equality were for the horses. But now, to be treated as nothing more than a servant …
“No one treats me this way,” I hissed, taking one last look at the door before I stepped away, my heels clicking against the cement as my heart pounded in my ears. The sounds were discordant, like in an out of tune marching band that pulled me forward. My anger fueled my magic into a rumble.
“We will show them, will we, Sain?” I said in an irritated jest, my brow furrowing in a deep scowl. The tap of heels grew louder, my gait increasing into a run. “Will we?”
Magic sparked through the air around me with the pulse of my anger. Angry little pops of it swept over the air in snaps, singeing the metal framework of the underside of the bleachers black, sending smoke and ash into the air behind me. The air was burning like everything else in this world. Everything in this life I had chosen.
Let it burn. I would set it on fire.
The sparks of my magic continued, igniting over walls and sky.
Ashes fell around me as I came to a stop, color and light dripping through the air and down the concrete steps inches before me.
I stood, watching the color fade into the dark cavern, staring down the long, dark stairwell that Sain had sent me to. The haunted cave would take me down to the pit, down to the cage where Sain had taken Alojz … where he expected me to release him like a lion into the arena.
That was my job. That was all he wanted of me … until he killed me. The need for that moment was growing in him, I saw it swell in his eyes every time he spoke of my beauty, every time he spoke of my future. Even though he might mean them, they were words that were based on lust; a bitter falsehood for what he really meant. For what he really wanted. I could see that in the look, in the desire he fixed on me. I had the same in me, the same need to end him. I was just better at concealing it.
“Do it now,” I repeated Damek’s words aloud, my hair falling around my face as I took one step closer to the stairs, the toes of my heels pressing against the edge of the topmost step, my weight pulling me forward.
My hatred pulled me back.
Damek and I had originally agreed that we would release the mutilated Alojz before going to the girl. That way, Sain wouldn’t have any idea anything had changed in our loyalty, that anything was wrong, not until the knife pierced his back.
Quick. Seamless. He would never suspect.
Standing here at the top of the stairs, however, I didn’t care. I didn’t care if he found out. I didn’t care if he knew.
I wanted to kill Sain.
It was all there was: Sain’s death and my freedom. I didn’t know what would be waiting for me without a master to serve, but this master was not the one I thought I had chosen.
As I stepped back, the single beat of my shoe reverberated, sparking along the cement floors in a bolt of lightning that stretched out from me in a spider’s web. It burned the cement in charred design that someone else would have to admire.
I had already turned. I was already running, my heels clacking, breath heaving. I bolted back down the hall, past the outcropping where Sain was nestled against his blood-soaked robe and pillows, past the entry hall that was nothing more than shredded canvas and broken sconces, and into the icy air of the Chosen’s camp.
The biting wind smacked against my face and sucked the air from my lungs with the first step outside the warm confines of the tents. It hit against the bare skin of my arms and past the thin fabric of my dress. I gasped, my skin breaking into gooseflesh as I plunged myself into it, dreaming of the heavy fur that still hung on the wall where Damek stood by the door, staring at Sain.
Staring at our target.
I didn’t have much time.
Judging by the still quiet of the camp, everyone was in the stadium, and without a peep hissing from the massive structure, nothing had started.
No battle. No bloodshed.
If I was lucky, he wouldn’t know of my plot yet. He wouldn’t know of my betrayal. It was moments away. I had only moments.
Ice and snow swirled in the air around me as I ran through the tent village. Tiny specks of wetness hit against my already frigid skin and deepened the cold that was now seeping into my bones.
With one flare of my magic, I could warm myself, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Once he knew what I had done, he would search for me. He would find my magic. He would find me, but even worse, he would find the girl. I couldn’t risk that, not until she got me back into the dome then to Ilyan.
Picking up my pace, I ran faster, dodging between tents, running past them. Canvas rippled behind me as I emerged from another one, stopping in place as shouts of fear lifted from the stadium. I turned toward it, my hair fanning out as it was tossed in the wind. I stared at the stadium, my heart pulsing as more screams joined the first.
He knew.
It had started.
Without waiting, I turned, running faster. My heels sunk into the soft earth, the sharp points of the heels collapsing so fast that, with each step, my legs wobbled and shifted awkwardly beneath me. With a groan, I ditched the heels, bidding a silent good-bye to the bright red beauties. Then I turned another corner, dodging into a large tent.
The icy air evaporated as the canvas fell closed behind me, trapping me inside the hot air that smelled of feces and blood. The aroma twisted my stomach, threatening to boil it over.
Clenching my teeth together, I clapped my hand over my mouth, determined to keep the bile down, desperate to smell the perfume I had spritzed myself with this morning and not the vile aroma I was trapped in.
Suddenly wishing I hadn’t been so hasty to leave my shoes, I stepped over the cluttered mess, stepping in something far too moist and far too soft. While I tried not to think of what filth had defiled me, I pursed my lips and continued toward the back corner, toward the moving blankets covering the only living creature in this tent.
Nests of blankets and sleeping bags were spread over the floor. The pattern was so uneven I skipped and jumped in an attempt to get to where I was going. A wide step over a brown and gray blanket, a hop over a pile of blood-colored clothes. Another step and the canvas of the massive tent shifted, the sound a jolt that jerked through me, sending me leaping over a sleeping bag and turning toward the door, my magic flaring between my fingers in expectation of someone being there.
Of Sain having found me.
There was nothing except the canvas of the tent as it shifted in the wind and the piles of who knew what that I had already danced past.
“You’re mighty jumpy,” a little voice tittered from behind me.
I jumped even farther, twisting in the air to face the little girl I had come to find. The girl who was the key to making this plan work.
Míra.
She stood not far from me, emerged from her blankets in a rat’s nest of clothing and hair. Her long locks were cut short and darkened, her eyes bloodshot and desperate. She looked like her brother, or so she had told me, something she wasn’t very happy about.
She didn’t smile; she glowered at me with that same dead gaze she’d had since the moment she had woken up. Her face was the same except for a long scar that ran from her right eye and down to her neck. The nasty looking thing was still pink and healing.
“I was coming to get you,” I retorted, popping my hip as I took a step closer, narrowing my eyes at her.
I hadn’t liked this little girl’s defiance when Edmund had chosen her, and I didn’t like it now. If we didn’t need her so much, I would have disposed of her as Sain had asked.
He was the one who had left the task up to me and Damek. Maybe he was too trusting.
“I know. I remember the plan,” she said, obviously irritated. “You seem to be here earlier than I was expecting. Has the coup already started?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,” I snapped, my irritation bubbling up. I already barely had enough time to get in and out of Prague and to do that before Sain tracked us down.
This girl was trying my patience.
“If you want to find your brother, you tell me.” She was defiant, stubborn. It boiled through me, and I gave a dark sneer as I stepped forward.
The effect was lessened without my heels, but she still jerked. I could see her debate whether she should step back.
I wished she would.
“We’ve been over this, little girl,” I taunted, keeping my voice high. “I saved your life, which means I own it.”
Her defiance faded, boiling back down into anger as I put her in her place. The death in her eyes twisted even further into the anger and revenge that fueled her.
She narrowed her eyes at me, her lips and nostrils flaring as she fixed me with a glower as deep as the ones I had mastered so long ago.
“Did you deviate from the plan?” she snapped, jumping over the large sleeping nests to get to me, her body moving fast.
“I did what was needed, little girl.” My voice swallowed hers as I stepped even closer. I stood over her, looking dow
n at the child who looked up at me, her jaw set and eyes hard as she met my glower match for match, her anger rivaling mine.
“We had a plan, Ovailia,” she hissed, stepping so close she had to look straight up to attempt to make eye contact.
The image of her craning her neck to see me was comical. Unable to help it, I laughed, the noise dark and haunting as it filled the large tent. The sound danced with the steady beat of the canvas as it moved with the wind, with the sounds of battle that were slowly filtering through the fabric. I guessed it was in full-force now.
“I didn’t break it. It doesn’t need fixing. But now we are going to make it better.” I grabbed her arm, ready to pull her out of the tent and into a stutter, but she pulled away, jerking her arm from me.
“I am the last piece of your father’s magic,” she yelled, still looking at me with that same awkward positioning. “I am the magic you need in order to kill that man.”
Stiffening, the fear I had felt from the moment I had turned away from the stairwell ramped up, twisting in my gut and soul in an uncomfortable pain that ripped through me.
She was right, and I hated it.
I wanted nothing more than to rip this little girl limb from limb, teach her not to defy me, teach her not to stand up to me. Make her pay for thinking she was better than me. But I couldn’t, because she was right. I needed her. And as the smile spread over her face, the blood hungry glare returning to her eyes, I could tell she knew it, too.
“You are to get me to my brother, Míra,” I said, my voice strained beneath the iron clench in my teeth.
“Then we can kill Sain?” She smiled, seeming as innocent as a child asking for candy.
Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she stepped away from me, her eyes dancing with a look that banished my fear for the briefest second.
“You can kill anyone you want,” I answered, turning back toward the entrance, ready to begin.
One step into the chill, I knew everything had changed, more than the coup.
Crown of Cinders Page 27