I had been the best at magic. At least, that’s what Ryland had said before Míra showed up. And now Míra was here, and I was having a hard time keeping up. I had to beat her at something!
“Chin up, skunk,” Risha said as she leaned toward me. “You can win the next game.”
I liked Risha, even if she did have the gross habit of ruffling my hair like a dog when she was proud of me. Even my mom had never done that. It made me feel like I was five or something, which I obviously wasn’t.
Wrinkling my nose until the ugly mark on my cheek stopped pulling, I clenched my fists. My magic was hot and angry under my skin. At least I knew my magic could still do something, even if it was merely getting hot and uncomfortable.
“Go ahead, Míra,” Risha prompted.
My sister looked at her like she was going to eat her. Gnaw on her bones or something. Like she had on an especially chewy steak Momma had made once. She had sat for twenty minutes, trying to get all the meat off.
The images smacked me in the face with a flash, and I laughed, a snicker seeping out before Míra slapped me with another deep glare.
“Good-bye, marble,” she said with a smile before waving her hand over the circle.
The twelve marbles that were left began to wiggle and pulse under the weight of her magic. The dust on the floor lifted into the dark, refracting Risha’s light into odd stripes of color. The wind she conjured moved around as she began to roll her marble toward mine. The tiny thing left a trail on the floor as it beelined right toward the yellow swirl of glass, my last piece in the game.
“No, no, no,” I groaned, moving my hands to my face as I leaned forward, wishing there were a way to stop its progress. But I already knew her magic was too strong, too accurate.
Ryland had trained me well. I could do some crazy things. But “move your marble and no one else’s using just wind” was so freakin’ hard!
I kept moving other people’s marbles or rolling mine too far. I even hit a sleeping patient in the head. I had laughed, while he hadn’t found it very funny. I wouldn’t, either, being woken up. I was kind of happy for getting to stay up so late.
This had never happened before Míra had shown up. So I guessed it was good, even if I kept losing marbles.
Míra laughed beside me as her marble hit against mine with enough force that it rolled outside of the circle, across the stone floor, and hit one of the many bed legs we were surrounded by.
“I win!”
“No fair.” I was grumpy. I didn’t like losing. And I really didn’t like not getting a chance to figure something out perfectly. Both had been taken away. Grumpy. “We need to go again. I will win next time.”
I would, too. Now that I knew what the game was, they couldn’t stop me. Just wait until I got back in the game.
“No,” Míra spat, her voice harder than was normal for her. “This game is boring. All your games are boring.”
In a flash, she changed, the little slivers of the sister I knew disappearing behind the hateful girl I really didn’t like. The one who made me wonder if she had been taken over by aliens or something.
With how she acted, it was a real possibility.
She’s your sister. I knew it was true, but she had changed enough that it was freaking me out.
“I thought it was fun,” I replied, hating how nervous I was to counter her.
She had yelled at me enough lately, and I was pretty irritated at losing. It was making me feel all volatile and stuff. I didn’t know how to fight with magic, but I was convinced I could figure it out pretty fast with how angry I felt.
Momma used to say she was lucky. Having twins at the end of six kids was hard enough. But we were like two perfect little angels, obedient best friends. We never fought; we got along. We understood each other on some deep level.
I guessed that was over.
“It’s supposed to fine-tune your magic. The precision we master here can be the difference between life or death in the real world,” Risha said as she began to gather all the marbles back up, already placing them in piles, ready for the next game.
“No wonder I am so good at it. I’m pretty good at the real world, which is nothing like this, BTW.”
I jerked. Míra had sounded exactly like our older sister, KasMíra. I hadn’t thought about her since the day everything had changed. Hadn’t thought of the way she would get so mad. The way she and Momma would yell.
As I glanced between the two of them in a panic, the hatred that zapped between them made my insides squirm, little electric sparks that hit against iron beds and marbles in a little thunderstorm.
“Oh, really?” Risha scoffed, not looking at Míra, her focus still on the marbles. “That doesn’t surprise me, given Edmund. He probably had you training with the Trpaslíks … They are a very violent people. And irritating.”
Anger oozed from my sister like a rotten tomato in the sun, feeling putrid in my stomach.
“Guys …” I pleaded, knowing this was heading for trouble.
Neither of them noticed or cared.
“What does that mean?” Míra spat, jumping to her feet.
I jerked and hustled after her, wondering if I would have to tackle her to the ground.
“Calm down, Míra,” I hissed at her, but she breathed harder, hissing behind her teeth like she was going to spit fire.
“I’m not meaning any offense.” Risha finally looked up from the now organized marbles, her voice calm, though her eyes were narrowed, full of distrust and fear. “It means that I know Edmund. I know the Trpaslíks and their culture. I am fairly certain I know what he would have you do.”
“I doubt that.”
“I first went to their ‘pits’ when I was a child. I never went back. It was disgusting. Edmund even tried to get them banned before Timothy appointed him king in his stead.”
“Timothy?” Míra asked in confusion.
The calm in Risha’s voice left as she began to laugh. The sound was that same mocking that Momma would give our sister.
“You need a history lesson, little girl, before you start pretending like you know everything.”
It was then that Míra moved. I saw it a minute before she rushed her, and I wrapped my hand around her wrist, pulling her back toward me, hoping the small movement would be enough.
“Stop, Míra. Please,” I hissed, trying my hardest not to yell.
Míra fought against me once more as I pulled her back. I got her attention this time as she turned to face me, her hair swishing through the air from the intensity.
“Why should I? She’s not very nice,” Míra asked, her words masked by the language that we had adopted as children. Brought on by a speech impediment, the switched consonants made everything we said hidden to even the best Czech speakers. Even Míra’s speech therapist couldn’t understand us, which was probably why it stayed around even after her palate was corrected.
“I’m trying to help them, Jaromir. I want to help. But they keep talking to me like a child,” she pleaded, and my heart hurt from the response.
“You are a child, Míra.” I forced the words out, careful to make sure they were masked.
“Edmund didn’t treat me like a child.”
“But he wasn’t nice. You know Risha and Ryland and all of them are nice.”
“But I can’t tell them …” Míra continued in code.
Risha looked between us before moving back to the marbles, poking them with her finger. I knew she was really paying close attention, trying to figure out what we were saying.
“He’ll kill me if I don’t, Jaromir.” She had said it before, and even though I didn’t flinch, I was shaking. Míra’s wide eyes were scaring me. “He’s going to kill everyone if I don’t. I know I can save all of them … You have to help me.”
“They can help you, too, Míra. You have to trust them.”
Míra looked from me to Risha, staring at something.
I clung to her harder. Maybe this time, she would agree with me. Maybe this time, she wo
uld tell them what was going on, and then all of this could stop.
“Risha can fix it. I know she can.”
“You know I don’t believe that. I can’t. I have a job to do.”
Now I did cringe, a big shiver that rolled over me, and my heart thundered in my chest, knowing what she was talking about.
“Please don’t, Míra. Not now. Not ever.” I had tried to talk her out of it since she had brought it up, and this time was going to fail as much as the other ones at the rate I was going.
Míra looked at me once before sinking back down to the floor, the bed she leaned on creaking.
“Can we at least play a real game?” she said in straight Czech, her voice like an adult, pretending the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Momma used to do that, too. “Go have a battle in that ruin or something?”
Risha laughed. “Sorry, kid, but that is the last thing we are going to do.”
“And why not? It’s practical, and I’m sure Jaromir—”
“It’s dangerous, Míra,” Risha cut her off with a snap.
The two of them stared angrily, leaving me standing above them like a statue. I was starting to wonder if I could sneak out of here and find Ryland on my own.
“Besides, Ilyan has forbidden that kind of war-play.”
“No wonder everything here is so boring.” Míra poked at the marbles Risha had set before her, letting a stream of magic shoot into them before seeping right back into her, a purple line of light that flashed for a second then disappeared. “You don’t do anything.”
“We do plenty,” Risha said with a sigh.
Míra looked up at Risha grumpily, her lip pulled out like it used to when she was a little kid.
“We don’t kill people is all.” Risha was calm. It still didn’t stop the knot in my stomach from tightening right back up. I didn’t think I could have sat back down next to my sister if I had tried right then. The knot was too big, and my legs weren’t moving.
“Lame,” Míra groaned, her word choice one she had been using since we had turned six. “I miss the pits.”
Risha smiled, her eyes both delighted and frightening as she leaned toward my sister.
My focus was still drilled right into her.
“Well,” Risha began, clapping her hands together, and both Míra and I jumped in turn.
My sister turned toward Risha at the sound, a movement that I wasn’t convinced was voluntary.
“This may not be the death pits, but seeing as Ryland hasn’t gotten back yet …” With a smile, she pushed the marbles toward us, a pile for each. “Who is ready for another game?”
“I’m telling you that it’s boring, and it’s not going to help to train anyone, especially Jaromir. Especially with what’s coming.”
“Aren’t you cute?” Risha cooed, the normal joy in her voice coming back ten-fold. She smiled wide before patting Míra on the head the same way she did me. “You’re like a pit bull puppy.”
Maybe she thought everyone was a dog. It looked even more like she was petting a dog from this side.
“Keep barking kid, but until you tell me what’s coming, it’s not going to get you what you want. Sit down, Jaromir.”
I didn’t need to be told twice.
I sunk to the floor with the speed of a bullet, plopping down and crossing my legs. I probably shouldn’t have gone so fast, because now my bum hurt. It didn’t matter, though. I had a game to win.
Smiling, I pulled my marbles toward me, ready to play. My mind kept buzzing with what Míra had said just now, with what she had told me before.
So much killing. Thinking of her doing it was making me uncomfortable. She had always hated that stuff. She would always hide if anyone died in movies. And now she wanted to watch.
And death pits? What were those?
Nothing made sense.
“Hey, Jaromir,” Míra snapped, her hand strong as she pushed into my shoulder and popped my thoughts like a bubblegum bubble. “It’s your turn. I thought you were going to win this time.”
“What?” I asked stupidly, pulling myself back into reality. “Oh, yeah.”
Leaning over the board, I prepared my magic, determined to knock at least three marbles off course, only to stop in place as the loud booms of Ryland’s voice echoed across the dark and silent hospital.
“There you are!”
Loud shushing followed him as he ran up the rows of beds to us, several of the patients disturbed by his arrival.
Risha laughed at him, the sound so happy I laughed with her, letting it chase out all the sadness like Momma had always told me to do.
Míra looked like she was about to explode.
“We are right where we told you we would be,” Risha said, continuing to laugh as more and more of the other inhabitants joined in on the chorus of hushes. They sounded like snakes. “Playing marbles. Míra is winning.”
“That doesn’t surprise me one bit. That girl is good!”
I was positive he meant it as a compliment, but Míra scowled more.
The smile on Ryland’s face dimmed a bit, a fear I hadn’t seen before shining through.
“You have no idea,” Míra growled in code, and my spine tingled in fear.
I knew she was going to say something creepy again, and I doubted I wanted to know what.
“Just wait …”
“Míra, don’t!” I yelled, forgetting to code my words.
The hushing fell silent at my panic, and Míra moved so close I expected her hand to slap over my mouth.
“You don’t have to—”
“Stop it, Jaromir,” Míra cut me off before I said too much, her coded words ricocheting throughout the now silent hall. “You can’t convince me. I’m out of time, and I don’t want them thinking I’m good. It’ll only hurt them more. I’m not good.”
“Míra …” I pleaded, but she ignored me, standing to face Ryland, who towered over her like a burly prison guard.
The man I had always looked up to turned into a giant as he puffed up.
“You are a powerful kid, Míra,” he rumbled from above her. “But don’t push it. I like you in one piece, and I am pretty sure your brother does, too.”
Míra finally flinched, the stranger deflating a bit and leaving my scared little sister behind.
“Yeah, I do,” I added, shuffling to my feet and pulling her away from him. “I really do.”
“Good,” Ryland said, his voice kind yet the hulk remaining. “So, one piece it is! But for now, bed time. Ilyan’s orders. He wants you rested before he comes and plays capture the flag with us tomorrow.”
“Ilyan’s coming here?” I jumped, I didn’t know if I should be excited or scared. I had heard enough stories about what he could do, although the few times I had seen him had been terrifying. He was more of an angry giant than Ryland was at times.
“Yep,” Ryland said, obviously proud of himself, yet he seemed almost as scared as I was for some reason. “I told him about our game, and he wants to come.”
“I’m sure,” Míra grumbled, plopping herself down on her bed with a loud squeak of springs and metal.
“It’ll be fun!” Ryland was really pushing this, but looking at Míra’s reaction had me worried.
He wasn’t the person she was supposed to kill, was he? I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want her to die.
I needed to convince her to ask for help. Or maybe I needed to ask it myself. I knew they could help. She needed to trust them.
“Have sweet dreams of lollipops and unicorns, not death and destruction,” Risha said as she blew out the lamps between our beds, covering each of us with the rough cotton blankets that smelled faintly of smoke, blood, and an old soap my grandmother would have used.
I stared into the dark, listening to them whisper as they left, trying to figure out a way to convince my sister to trust them. My brain was already foggy with exhaustion.
“I wish that were possible,” Míra mumbled from beside me.
I was pretty certain
that was the most honest thing she had said since she had come here.
DRAMIN
9
“How am I expected to think straight if you refuse to remove your feet from my face?” I didn’t think I could have said those words with a straight face. I tried, but the laugh still leaked out, deep chuckles I was known for echoing in the still room around us.
The sound was a welcomed accompaniment.
Joclyn looked up from where she lay at the foot of my bed, her eyes peering over the cover of a large leather-bound book that had been recovered from an old school last week.
As her eyes wrinkled in a taunting smile, I could see her intent before it came.
“Joclyn!” I yelled in an attempt to stop her action, and her laugh broke past, the bed underneath us creaking as she continually dodged my poor attempts to push her away, more little toes pushing against my shoulders and face.
“Child!”
She laughed more at my outburst.
“Why must you be so disagreeable?”
“I’m not disagreeable, Uncle,” she gasped out around giggles, still trying to fight me. “I’m entertaining. Admit it.”
“Avoiding required tasks … with feet … is not entertaining.” I wouldn’t admit it, and she knew it. I wasn’t foolish enough to think she would admit anything, either. We had both inherited the same stubbornness. “I will send you back to bed if you don’t cease this!” I yelled, knowing it was hopeless.
“No, you won’t. We have required tasks, after all. Besides, I slept last night. You have another twenty hours to put up with me.”
“I guarantee I will be rid of you before then!”
Her laugh increased, her perceived win obvious. Unfortunately for her, she had forgotten I had raised a legion of offspring.
Without warning, I stopped moving, letting her toes press against my cheek before I turned and allowed the stinky little digits right into my mouth. With her toes wiggling against my tongue, I licked them, my teeth holding her firmly in place.
She screamed, loud and playful and panicked.
“Let me go!”
I didn’t know if she was laughing or disgusted. It made me laugh more.
Crown of Cinders Page 12
