I had thought I had heard something—some sound, some whisper of magic—but no one was here. No one except me, a prisoner locked in a glass box.
Eyes narrowing, I turned back to the dresser, my magic on high-alert as it infiltrated the room, searching for some sign of magic, of some concealed army.
There was nothing.
I had never been able to sense magic like my brother did, a skill that would have come in handy in times like this.
I let my magic wrap around me, strong ribbons bound around me like a shield. One short glance up at the mirror to verify I was gone from sight and I moved out of the room, toward the large bathroom attached to the suite. My magic lifted me above the ground enough that my heels against the stone could not be heard.
No sound, nothing other than the tiniest flutter of a breeze.
I wasn’t foolish enough to think that, because I didn’t see anyone, no one was there. You couldn’t see me at the moment, either. Just like I couldn’t see Sain, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching my every move.
The thought moved up my spine in a slither of ice, a slow snake that shivered within me no matter how hard I tried to stop the disgusting convulsion.
Pathetic, disgusting emotion. I had better things to focus on.
With a roll of my eyes, I escaped into the lavatory in silence. The room was exactly as it had been built centuries before, all except for the addition of the toilet. Even that was archaic, having been installed in the 1920s, a pull string for flushing and all.
Yellow polka dot heels appeared out of nowhere as I slipped them off my feet, letting them sit in the middle of the floor as if I had just stepped out of the tub.
Restraining a hiss, I placed my bare soles against the icy tile of the mosaic floor and then ran past the large inset stone tub, attempting not to think of how many germs were now attaching themselves to my perfectly manicured feet. Moving past the large closet still full of Ilyan’s council clothes, I guessed neither my father or Sain could part ways with them. They were as old as both their reigns. Funny, considering they would be the first to go if I took control.
When I did.
I needed to find that blade.
Lips pressed into a hard line, I straightened my back, sweeping unseen amid the museum of clothes, coming face to face with the wall I had seen Sain stand before.
I knew at once the wall was not really there.
My magic jumpstarted with every step I took toward the thing, the shield dropping from around me as my hand drifted into view. Manicured fingers raised before me, shining like drops of blood against the surface of the rock, I hesitated, frightened of what lay behind the stone, of what would happen when I pressed my palm against the rough-hewn edges of stone.
With a gasp and a roar of fear, I pressed my hand against the stone, expecting the chill of the rock, the rough edges of the quarry. Instead, my hand moved through it, my entire arm plunging into ice water as the solid surface I had been expecting swallowed it, my arm disappearing from view.
Gasping from the chill, I stared at the waving line of magic that shimmered around my forearm like a circlet, a delicate embellishment begging me to step into the stone, begging me to find more.
Before I could take a step, the feeling of ice moved up my arm like an infection, a slow slither that crackled in the air in a pressure that pulled me into the void. It was more than the feeling of ice, however; it was ice. It glided over my skin in blossoms of crystals that flowered and thickened, holding me in place, freezing right inside of me.
“Sain!” I growled past gritted teeth, shifting as I attempted to pull my arm out of the wall. However, the ice continued to move up my arm, nearing my shoulder.
Each pull that I gave against the ice hold was unyielding, the grip increasing. I was stuck there.
Anger replaced the disgusting fear as I pulled against the ice, my magic building into an immense roar as my anger fanned my blood.
Placing my free hand before the false wall, I let my magic surge, a powerful stream of red light flying through the air to hit against the magical wall with a smack. A bolt of lightning moved over the surface like a web, burning away the façade. For one brief minute, the false wall vanished, revealing the large room behind it and the glistening shard of the Soul’s Blade lying on a countertop in plain view.
“Found you,” I hissed as the wall rebuilt itself.
My mind was still focused on the spot where the blade lay, even though all it was now was the Mírage of uneven gray stone.
It was right there, inches from me. The soul of my father, his magic, ready for me. All I needed to do was take control, and then Sain would be as good as dead.
A wide grin swept over my face, teeth glistening in the muted light of the closet as I lifted my now thawed arm, spreading my fingers wide in preparation to shatter the pathetic attempt of a barrier into a million fragments of magic and ice.
It was nothing more than the pekelný.
Nothing more than what a child could do.
The smile grew as my magic did, charging through me to drain into nothing as a noise sounded clearly behind me.
I turned, knowing that I was no longer alone, only to come face to face with Damek.
His eyes were wide with the same fear he always had, his body shadowed on the other side of the clothes forest.
“I’ve been calling you, my lady,” he simpered, his voice a shriek as he took a step forward, toward the dim ribbon of light that fell from the mirrored skylight between us. The light fell over him in more shadow than gold, making him look distorted and broken.
“You should have kept calling,” I snapped as I turned toward him. The ends of my hair tickled against my back, the sheer fabric of my dark top not enough to completely cover the skin. “What are you doing back here?”
“I have been calling you, my lady,” he repeated, his voice shaking even more as he began to writhe his hands one over another.
I laughed loudly, one loud sound of irritation, as I moved away from the wall that, until a second ago, had been my target. Now I moved toward a new one, the man seeming to break down with every step I took.
The light of the skylight washed over me, warming my skin as it reflected off my hair, making everything glisten.
His eyes widened at the illusion of an angel, and I smiled, the nefarious gleam in my eyes taking away the heaven and replacing it with hell.
He took a step back, still writhing his hands.
“And you assumed you could come back here?” My voice was calm, the storm behind it clear.
I almost expected him to turn tail and run, but he stayed his ground. The muscles in my back tensed as those in my stomach began to writhe with as much panicked urgency as his hands.
He looked at me once, and the sensation continued. However, I kept my face strong, my back straight, and my jaw tight. I felt as fearful as he did right then.
“Did Sain send you?” I asked, my voice strong despite everything else in me shaking, a million panicked questions ripping within my mind.
How long had Damek been standing there?
Had he seen?
Did Sain see?
Clenching my teeth, I took another step forward, tapping my fingers against my hip bones as I pressed my palms against my lower back. “Spit it out, Damek.”
The man nodded furiously, taking another step back, as if he were prepared to make a running escape, his eyes darting away from me.
Darting past the closet.
Darting to the wall behind me.
He knew. Whether he saw me or not, he knew something.
My heart fell, each heavy beat painful inside my chest. Still, I didn’t let it show. I smiled, my hands eager to reach out and grab the mongrel before me. To shake the information out of him like one did a dog.
“He’s in the main hall, my lady. He’s waiting for you.” He spit the words out in a torrent, the consonants falling over each other, eager to get out.
Sure enough, the moment
they had left him, he turned, stumbling in his desperate escape of me.
He didn’t make it more than a few steps before I grabbed him, my magic wrapping around him as I lifted him into the air, swinging him wide before I slammed him against the opposite wall. Hangers and clothes swung from the impact, the soft thud of flesh against stone melodic.
I slammed him again, bringing him back before me.
His eyes were wide as a small trickle of blood began to seep from his nose.
“Silly man,” I seethed, my words grinding against my teeth like snakes. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”
His eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing mechanically as he gasped for air, as he tried to find words to fit the panic he was drowning in.
“What do you know about this wall?” I jerked my head behind me in explanation.
His eyes widened farther as his shoulders stiffened. He lifted his previously flailing hands to wrap around his neck, the plea obvious even without the words.
Rolling my eyes, I dropped him, wishing I hadn’t left my heels in the bathroom. There was nothing dangerous about walking around a man in bare feet.
“Speak, Damek,” I prompted, moving behind him as I blocked his way out. The clothes that were hung on either side shifted a bit from the movement in the tight space. “What do you know? What did you see?”
“I …” he gasped, his chest heaving as he tried to catch a breath. “I didn’t see anything … but Sain … Sain coming out.”
“When?” I spat, my voice a harsh warning, and the man below me curled into a tight little ball, the fear of a hit evident.
“Just once!” he screamed, his fear making him useless. “Just once. I don’t know … anything. I don’t know anything.”
I sighed. As much as Damek had irritated me in the past, he had actually begun to prove himself quite useful. I supposed the way Sain broke his servants was good for one thing. He knew nothing, and his loyalty laid in fear, not body. He wasn’t sharing anything unless someone squeezed it out of him.
“Don’t tell Sain where you found me,” I snarled, squatting over him until my body was like a cage over his, my mouth inches from his ear. My hair fell around both of us like a curtain, adding a depth of secrecy to my hissed warning. One he shivered beneath, the weight holding him still. “Do, and I will kill you.”
He shivered again, and my smile expanded, the joy of dominion ripping away the last of my anger, even if I did have to find my current slave keeper.
I guessed Damek and I had that in common.
“Do you understand?” I asked.
The sniveling man beneath me nodded in desperation, a whine of fear spewing from him as though he had sprung a leak.
“Good. Now go,” I spat as I turned away from him, fully intent on returning to the wall in order to secure the blade before I went to meet Sain, before I would let him meet his fate.
But Damek didn’t move. He stood, folded like a beast, writhing his hands, eyes locked on the floor.
“Go, Damek,” I repeated, the anger in my voice paramount.
Still, he stayed.
“Damek!” I roared as I took a step toward him.
This time, the man raised his head, all signs of the cowering, sniveling fool Sain had made him gone. His eyes were hard with the same anger I felt running inside me.
“Do not retrieve the blade yet,” he whispered, his voice so quiet I barely heard him. “Wait. Meet with Sain and find me in the room where Cail took his last breath.”
“What?” I gasped, my voice shaking as much as my body, the conversation no longer making any sense.
“We are playing a game, my queen. I think it is time you joined us.” He shuffled away from me before I had even removed myself from over him, slithering like a snake over the floor in an attempt to get away.
I stood frozen, barely able to coax myself to turn toward the door. I remained still, listening to his retreat.
One stress left as another pressed against my shoulders with a weight I knew wouldn’t leave.
Roles. Queen.
I was already aware that I wasn’t the only one who sought the blood of Sain to be spilled. I wasn’t the only one who was playing this dangerous game.
But did I play it on my own or with them and risk being seen?
You couldn’t hide from a Drak. That much, I knew.
And if I were to succeed, I would have to hide in the darkest shadows. I would have to find my own blood-soaked cloak before I stole his.
With a sigh, I turned away, my steps quick as I made my way out of the closet and toward the hall where Sain was waiting.
15
Situated on that twisted throne of his, Sain sat with his hand atop the repaired remains of my father’s skull. Blood oozed from between his fingers as it ran down the charred bone as though it were weeping blood red tears that dripped onto the floor in long, steady streams.
Looking at him, I expected some injury. But he sat, smiling, the same blood spilling over his face, dripping off his nose and getting tangled in his beard.
He stood then, signaling for me to join him on the stand, something I did in one quick step, no matter how much I was revolted to stand beside him.
“I take it that your plan to destroy the traitors went well?” I asked sweetly, the sound of my heels echoing loudly in the space as he moved right to me, wrapping his blood-soaked skin around me then placing his hand against my jaw.
I tried not to cringe at the contact, at the knowledge that, with that one touch, I would have to throw away the shirt slash short combo I was wearing. I loved this outfit, too.
The blood was cool against my face, the heat of his hand underneath it a stark contrast, one my magic answered to at once. Awakening in a bubble of desperate need I knew I couldn’t fight, it roared under my skin, begging me to reach out to him.
I hated it. My magic wanted his, while my heart wanted him dead. I wished I could fight it. I had tried enough and failed every time.
He sensed the rise of my magic, too, and smiled, the wide grin revealing white teeth against the blood that glistened in his beard.
“It went better than expected.” His smile grew, and my magic bubbled further at the sound of his voice.
It moved around me like jelly. The warmth fueled by the power and authority that drenched his voice, making me lose control of the hatred that had been feeding me.
“Wonderful,” I sighed, the lust seeping into my voice as I leaned closer to him, all thought of saving my outfit forgotten.
“Come, dear,” Sain said as he pulled away, wrapping his slick hand around mine as he led me into the shadows behind his throne, the darkness that used to be reserved for the Drak seers centuries before.
I had always known this space as the forbidden shadows where the Drak would stand amongst us during council, but it didn’t seem so dark, thanks in part to the golden fireflies that dripped from the ceiling. They were little spots of light that fell from the sky, extinguishing with a small hiss.
“What is it?” I asked, the temporary lust leaving as anticipation began to wind within me.
A dark shape beyond the glistening lights came into focus.
Sain’s smile stretched as I dropped his hand, plunging into the dark before him, desperate to see what was before me.
A dark whisper ran over me with each click of my heels against the stone as a warning I didn’t want to acknowledge pounded against my skull. A warning as loud as the whimpers that came from somewhere before us.
Painful, panicked moans grew louder as I stopped in place, the final echo of my heels fading into nothing.
As he left me standing in the dark, the painful cries of what used to be a man whispered before me. The dark shape of the creature was visible beyond the soft hiss of the golden embers that fell from the ceiling to the floor.
Punishment was too simple a word for what Sain had done. I had never seen my father be so cruel. I had never seen a warning of obedience played quite so loudl
y. The warning echoed in my head, telling me leaving the knife beyond the false wall had been a glaring mistake that I hoped had gone unnoticed by the seer who came up right behind me, the soft touch of his hand against my hip as caustic as acid.
“Come and see,” he whispered, pushing his hand against my waist as he prompted me forward.
I followed, followed and prayed that he hadn’t seen. That this fate would not be my own.
“Beautiful,” I forced the word out, pushing my fear down as the heavy beat of my heels echoed like a bass drum in my head.
Dark masses of stalactites and stalagmites jutted around the dark shape I had seen. The bright embers of flame danced between them like the bars of a cell. A drop of gold, a hiss of steam as it vanished, not fireflies. Molten stone. The unsteady rhythm cast the darkness in an oddly distorted light.
Stepping toward the prison with an unsteady gait, I strangled a gasp in my throat, the huddled mass of a man finally recognizable.
Alojz.
Or rather, what was left of him.
The man huddled behind the stone, his eyes wide in obvious trepidation. The fire and will that had supercharged his soul had been beaten out of him. Not even a whisper remained.
His eyes were sadness and fear now.
Sadness and fear that echoed loudly, right into my soul, echoing a deep warning. A warning of what would happen to me if I defied him.
My heart stopped beating as Alojz attempted to move his broken body into an uncomfortable crouch, a dead arm dragging on the ground beside him.
“Say hello, Alojz,” Sain taunted, his voice a dangerous whisper that I jerked at, the movement thankfully missed by Sain.
Alojz looked at me, his eyes wide in an understanding that terrified me, his bloodshot eyes crying an identical crimson. He opened his swollen jaw with a gasp, his teeth and tongue missing from the void. He gasped and spluttered as he looked at me, his eyes as red as the deep crimson splotches of his own blood that covered his clothes.
“Wonderful,” Sain said with a clap of his hands, finally leaving my side to circle around the prison.
I had hoped to calm at the distance, but my anxiety grew. Alojz’s mutilated face held me captive.
Crown of Cinders Page 20
