Crown of Cinders

by Rebecca Ethington

  I saw her, anyway.

  She was crumpled on the floor, her long hair fanned out around her head like the sun’s rays. Her hand looked stiff, wrapped around the bed post, as blood spread over her back, over her skin, the large red puddle pooling around her.

  I still saw Risha.

  “Y-y-you …” I stuttered, barely able to get the words out with how my stomach was twisting. “You said you wouldn’t kill her!”

  “I didn’t kill her. She will live. She just won’t go anywhere for a while.”

  I swallowed, the motion difficult with whatever was still clogging my throat.

  Everything smelled like a korun českých and when I had to clean the bathroom, the smell following us out, traveling on the wet, sticky mess that had seeped into my socks.

  “Let’s go, Jaromir.” Míra prodded my back with her finger, a sharp point that dug into my spine as her magic erupted inside of me. Sharp, little pokes dispersed over my skin like needles.

  I jerked then stumbled out the door and into the courtyard as she laughed gleefully behind me.

  All signs of my sister were gone. I no longer knew who I was following.

  The sound of my heart was louder out in the courtyard where the dark tents surrounded us, sending it into the black sky before the red barrier brought it back, screaming at me to stop.

  I couldn’t.

  I walked past the tents that were strangely quiet and still.

  I wondered if they were empty. I wondered where everyone was, but I couldn’t think. I could barely walk in a straight line as it was.

  We weaved past the tents, heading toward the large hall that held the bathrooms and beyond that …

  Every step felt heavy. The large, wet mass on my sock wasn’t helping, either. It was a heavy weight that I dragged behind me, as if Risha were hanging on, begging me to stop.

  Everyone wanted me to stop, but I couldn’t. I had to save everyone. As Míra had said, it was the only way

  I had to keep telling myself that.

  Knowing it was all a lie.

  The hallway rattled around us, stones and bricks shaking in what I was persuaded to believe was an explosion. I knew it was too early for the ships to drop their bombs, but I couldn’t think of what else it could be.

  I jerked at the noise, wishing I could turn back to Míra, make sure she was okay. But I couldn’t make myself do that, either. I simply walked forward, jerking as another one came, wishing they would break through the wall.

  Wishing they would free us.

  Free me from what I was about to do.

  Momma used to always say that, even if you didn’t take the cookie, if you saw someone doing it, you were still as guilty.

  This was so much worse than a cookie.

  One step, two beats, three shaky breaths. Everything was too loud. My heart beat. My socks against the stone. Míra’s excited breathing inches from my back. Momma’s voice loud and clear inside my head, nagging about cookies and right and wrong. And how wrong Míra was.

  How wrong I was to help her.

  Ryland could help her, though. I knew he could. I needed to tell him what was going on so they could stop her. There wasn’t enough time left to stop her, though.

  I had already brought her too far.

  As I stopped in place, the door Míra needed was a few feet from us. I froze, my innards twisting and turning, head spinning in fear.

  I couldn’t be here. How did I get here?

  Míra slammed into my back as another explosion rattled the walls. She was obviously not paying very close attention to where I was going. The impact sent us both toppling forward into stone floors and walls, my still wet sock sliding on the stone.

  I caught myself, turning to make sure Míra was okay, but instead, I saw one of my own bloody footprints.

  Risha’s blood, bright red in the dark.

  “What are you doing?” Míra hissed in the dim light of the hallway, obviously intent on keeping her voice down. “We need to get there. We don’t have time for this, Jaromir. We have to hurry.”

  “No,” I gasped, my voice strangled. I sounded scared. I was scared. I hadn’t realized how scared I was. “We can’t.”

  “What?” For as scared as I was, Míra was angry.

  I tensed, my shoulders pulling up to my ears, expecting her to hit me. I didn’t look at her. I stayed hunched on the floor, staring at the footprints on the floor, listening to the boom of explosions overhead.

  “Get up, Jaromir.”

  “Do you remember Momma’s cookies?” I asked, focused still on the floor. “Do you remember what she said about them?” When I finally looked at her, at the anger and confusion that didn’t belong on her face, at the alien who looked back at me, everything broke, my heart screaming at me to run away from this stranger.

  “You mean that we couldn’t eat the sweet bread ones because they were her favorite?”

  “No, I mean—”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Míra snapped as she stepped toward me. The sound of her tread was as loud as my heart beat, each drum pressing against me until I wanted to scream.

  I wanted to escape. I wanted to escape into the stone and never have to look at the monster my sister had become again. I didn’t want to face it.

  Even I knew I couldn’t run away from it.

  Just like the Vilỳs, you had to face it.

  “Get up, Jaromir,” she sneered, and my spine curled in fear of what was coming. “We need to go.”

  “No.” I tried to make my voice as powerful as possible, but it fell flat, the sound shaking in the panic that was growing by the second.

  “We don’t have time, Jaromir. You said you would help me.”

  “I … I said … n-no.” I could barely get the words out of my mouth. I couldn’t even get up. I couldn’t look at her.

  “No?” She barked, grabbing my elbow and pulling one of my arms out from under me, sending me rotating through the air before slamming into the ground.

  I screamed from the impact, the sound lost in the cacophony of the planes, the hallways shaking around us. A ripple of pain moved up my spine, leaving me motionless as Míra stepped over me, her long hair falling around us like the leaves of the honeysuckle bush we used to hide in.

  “You don’t get to change your mind. You have to help me!”

  “No.” My voice was stronger now as I lay below her, helpless and afraid. That emotion was leaving, though. “I can’t let you do this anymore. Just like cookies.”

  Míra looked like she had been slapped, surprise showing before her eyes narrowed at me.

  “I removed a woman’s spine, you know.”

  I jerked visibly, fear twisting inside of me so much that I could barely move. I gasped, trying to twist away from her.

  “Edmund taught me how.” She smiled, her body folding as she sat on my hips the same way she had done when we used to wrestle before dinner. “You say he is bad, and you are right. You say I am good, but I can never be. Not anymore… because he made me bad. He taught me how to cut the skin, how to sever the nerves, how to mutate the bones. And then he taught me how to put it back. He taught me how to hurt. And I did. I hurt someone whether I wanted to or not.”

  Tears began to drip from my eyes, falling over my cheeks as I lay there, trapped beneath her, unable to move.

  “I don’t want to be bad, but he made me that way. And I won’t let him do that to you. Not to them. You are all too good. I have to save you. I have to save you, Jaromir. I’m the only one who can.”

  I remained still, crying as her own tears fell down her cheeks, her own prison clear.

  “I need you to help me, Jaromir. Tell me where he is.”

  We stared at each other, her sitting on my hips, trapping me in place, our tears dripping together, mine down my cheeks, burning my skin before they dripped onto the stone below me.

  “Please. I have to stop him.”

  “You can’t, Míra. I can’t let you kill him!” My heart hurt like I ha
d been stabbed, knowing what was coming, but I couldn’t stop.

  Not now.

  Not anymore.

  Bright green shot from my hand, shooting into Míra’s chest with a jolt that sent her flying through the air away from me. Her arms flailed like a spider before she slammed into the wall with a thud. The crack from my magic echoed down the hall, stones rattling and falling from the ceiling. Her scream chased the blast, her pain breaking into me as I scuttled after her, desperate to help, to stop …

  “Míra! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

  A blast ricocheted through the hall, hitting me in the chest. Her magic moved into me, burning me as I flew through the air. With a snap, my body broke against the ceiling, bones cracking against stones before my stomach plummeted back down to the ground, my body following along.

  “Míra!” I tried to shout her name while I lay on the floor, but all I did was cry, whimper, and groan.

  I tried to pull myself to my feet, but nothing was moving. All I did was hurt, fire moving within me, burning me. All I did was cry.

  “I’m sorry …”

  “You’re sorry?” She snapped as she walked toward me, blood dripping down her face, streaking her blonde hair from a cut in her scalp. “You promised me you would help, Jaromir! You lied!”

  I tried to get up, tried to run away, but my body hurt. It screamed back, everything aching as I kept moving. I had to.

  “You’re a liar!”

  “No!” I yelled as I forced myself to my feet, a scream ripping out of me. The pain was so severe I could barely see, couldn’t even breathe.

  I could only scream.

  Scream as she attacked me again, a streak of light running toward me. Scream as I dodged like I had so many times before in a million games at the park and stick battles in the alley behind our house.

  This wasn’t that anymore. This was pain that never ended as vomit dripped over my chin, blood running into my eyes.

  I didn’t want to die this way.

  I didn’t want to die like Risha.

  I had to run as fast as I could and find Ryland, find Ilyan. Find someone who could help. I had to stop her.

  I had made such a big mistake. I had to fix it.

  I had to make everything better.

  “Ryland!” I yelled, hoping beyond hope he would hear me … find me before it was too late. “Ryland! Save me!”

  Ignoring the pain, ignoring the way the world spun, I ran as fast as I could, weaving through the dim hallways like a dodge ball as attack after attack exploded from behind me. Flashes of color reflected against the stone as I ran, screaming.

  “Please stop, Jaromir!” Míra yelled, but I couldn’t stop.

  I couldn’t.

  The flashes continued as I ran, her magic flooding the hall around me, her cries clear in my ears.

  “Please, Jaromir! I don’t want to hurt you!”

  Red.

  Purple.

  Blue.

  Yellow.

  Black.

  Black.

  Black.

  All that was left was black. Black and pain. Pain that encompassed my body. Pain that sent me down to the ground again, slamming against the hard stone. Smooth stone. Cold stone.

  I didn’t scream yet wanted to. I lay, staring into the black, my eyes wide open as I froze.

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore!” Míra cried, her steps loud as she passed me. “I don’t want to be bad anymore. It’s not fair.”

  Her voice faded away as she did, as the black became everything.

  I heard the door open. I heard her laugh. I heard an old man yell.

  And then there was nothing.

  Nothing except Momma, her arms always so soft and warm.

  “It’s not fair.”

  JOCLYN

  11

  “We are all going to die!”

  “… You are going to lead us to the end!”

  “We can’t follow her!”

  My skin crawled as the voices ran over each other, the anger in the ruins of the cathedral boiling my blood, banging against what was left of the walls, shifting over the rock as everything shook underneath the weight of the wrath that was drowning the room. Drowning against the four of us as we stood on a large slab of what used to be roof; the large slab perched precariously on the rubble, only slightly above the hive of angry hornets below us, each one ready to sting, ready to kill.

  It was a terrifying place to be, the fear already settling deep in my gut.

  “Why hasn’t she been removed after she burned all of the Chosen in the hospital?” A tall Skȓíteks voice broke above all the others as he shoved his way to the front, jockeying for a better position, a fist fight braking out because of his forced entry.

  Visibly cringing, I turned away from the once civil people, away from the pink light of dawn that was beginning to peek between the buildings. I moved my focus to Ilyan, Wyn, and Ryland, who seemed just as irritated with the state of the horde beneath us.

  “You are going to let her kill us!”

  My shoulders hunched as my stomach twisted painfully, the words hitting a little too close to home.

  Just wait, můj kamarád. I won’t stand for this for long, Ilyan’s voice rolled inside of me as shame riddled me. His irritation was clear as he stood side by side with the three of us, looking like he was little more than mildly irritated.

  Oh, I know, I assured him. I’m well aware. It doesn’t change the fact that they are acting like immature killer rabbits, crying because we ran out of carrots.

  Ilyan laughed at that, the chuckle loud and clear as Ry and Wyn looked between us in confusion.

  I shrugged, willing to keep that joke to myself. Too bad the joy in it couldn’t last.

  “She’s not a queen; she’s a tyrant.” The words hit against my back, seeping into me like poison.

  Poison I was desperate to ignore.

  “Guys,” I mused, cringing internally, gritting my teeth as I forced the humor out, “did you hear? I’m a tyrant. I guess I better start collecting taxes now or something.”

  Ryland snickered at me, rolling his eyes the way he always did when I was being ridiculous. Ilyan, however, just stared at me, the joke lost due to another outburst from somewhere beneath us.

  I ignored it.

  “At least then we could take that vacation Ilyan was promising,” Wyn teased, her smirk widening as she threw her arm around my neck, the gloved hand waving wildly around my ear. “Make them pay for it.”

  “If they don’t kill each other,” Ryland mused as another fist fight broke out, the sounds of the incessant fights beneath us making me uneasy.

  I wasn’t the only one.

  Ryland stood, tugging at the long hem of the tunic he was wearing, obviously uncomfortable in the regal clothes that were normally reserved for Ilyan. Now Ilyan and his baby brother were practically identical in those clothes. It was odd to see them standing side by side in tunics that clung to them in odd ways, tights that defined things that would be better left undefined, and long, golden chains that, a year ago, would have made me think pimp.

  Now, all I saw was a king. A king and his younger brother, his second.

  All Ryland was missing was the crown.

  I was glad Ilyan hadn’t found a dress in wherever he had dug those up from. I might not look like royalty, but at least my holey jeans were comfortable.

  “But then,” Ryland continued, pulling my thoughts from gold-trimmed fabric and back to the angry shouts beneath us, my tense mate still and volatile before me, “having them kill each other was kind of the point.”

  “Not the point, per say,” Ilyan said, his narrowed eyes still focused on the crowds beneath us.

  My stomach tightened further. The look on his face did not give me much confidence for what was coming.

  “But, yes, some form of violence is preferable before we allow them to divide.”

  “Divide,” Wyn scoffed, laughing as a spark of magic exploded overhead, the brigh
tening courtyard erupting in sparks of orange. “You mean, get them all angry and see who stands up for you? And here I was thinking we were conducting some highly scientific model—”

  “This is very scientific.” Ilyan didn’t even look at her, his focus still on the crowd. The strength in his face mounted, the madness in his eyes becoming clear. I was in no doubt he had meant it as a joke, but the humor was lost in his power, lost in the danger that had surrounded us, the same feeling eating at my spine. “Scientific enough that not everyone will die.”

  “Sounds good enough for me,” Wyn responded with a shrug and a smile. “I wanted to make sure my crazy matched yours is all.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible, Wynifred. But, in this instance, we at least seem to be on the same side,” Ilyan said, his voice dark as his focus pulled away from the crowd to her. “Your crazy is right on par for this. Are you ready?”

  “Always am, boss,” Wynifred said with a grin, cracking her knuckles. Little sparks of fire ignited from her fingers, smoke oozing out from under the glove she was wearing as though her hand was on fire. Maybe it was. “Just tell me where to go.”

  “Why do I have a feeling everything just got very dangerous?” I growled, looking at Ryland who looked as worried as I did.

  Another attack covered the sky, crackling against the barrier that surrounded us in electric circuits that cracked like ice crystals.

  This was exactly what Sain had wanted. All those whispering rumors, all those vile lies. It was all for this, all to tear us apart before the last battle began. And I had to say, it was working.

  “Or, if you’d rather, I could light them all on fire.” Wyn’s grin expanded, her voice a hiss over the riotous screams as she leaned into the middle of our little circle. She looked like she was orchestrating some kind of drug deal.

  Or a murder.

  “Who are you talking to, Wyn? Ilyan or Joclyn?” Ryland asked with a laugh.

  “I could be talking to you, Ry. It doesn’t matter. The threat is real. And besides, fire is pretty.”

  “Prettier than all of this?” I asked, taking one side look at the crowd beneath us right in time to hear an obscenity or two hurled at me. The words smacked against my heart, and I flinched before Ilyan’s magic roared inside of me in irritation.