Crown of Cinders

by Rebecca Ethington

  “What do you think, my darling Ovailia?”

  “Beautiful,” I repeated.

  Sain’s sigh of pleasure was loud in my ears as he rushed back to my side. I almost expected him to touch me, to pull me closer, but he stayed an arm’s distance away, my magic pulling away from me in an attempt to reach him.

  The emotion, along with the lust, was disgusting, but now it was more. It was a disturbing need that was made more twisted as I faced what he could easily create of me.

  No, I realized with a start, what he could create of us all.

  He was the blood-soaked king, and this was his reign.

  “Indeed. If you think this is beautiful, you should have heard his screams as I ripped him apart. As I twisted the bones in his arm and burned his tongue from his mouth.”

  I shivered, fear rippling up my spine, burning into my bones in a powerful surge that I was having trouble containing. I could still feel the lust for his power, still feel my magic pull toward him, but now, even my magic was afraid.

  Afraid of the idea that was cementing itself inside of me.

  I had destroyed the pekelný. I could destroy him.

  I didn’t need to follow power. I had that power within me.

  The power to destroy him. The power to take control.

  And he knew it if the fear that was clouding his eyes were any indication.

  Forcing myself to stand still, I smiled, my focus calm, though my heart rate had picked up on something dangerous. The way he was posturing, his hand strong on my elbow, didn’t help.

  “After being at the receiving end of such torture for years,” Sain began, his voice a dangerous hiss as he pulled me closer, “it was a delight to find I could still have joy in the gift of giving it to another. That I could come up with new and amazing ways to make someone hurt, to make their devotion change.” Sain pulled me into him, his lips inches from mine, his eyes the only thing I could see.

  I gasped, losing my breath as the warning in his words dripped clearly, his threat tearing through me.

  He knew something.

  “You will have them all on their knees.” I kept my voice low, feigned longing dripping off me in liquid lust as I focused on the deep green of his eyes. Pursing my lips, I ran the side of my finger down his cheek, wiping away some of the still damp blood that was attempting to congeal there. “No one will dare defy you after you reveal what you are capable of.”

  “Even you, Ovailia.” His grip on my waist increased with a violent jolt, shoving me against him as a dangerous flash came to his eyes. The creature beside us whimpered in fear of the monster who had unfurled inches from me. “Would you dare defy me?”

  “Never, Sain.” My heart beat so fast I could barely hear the words over the thunder, sure the lust I was taunting him with was unrecognizable. “I am not the devil. You are my king.”

  He didn’t move, didn’t look away. His eyes remained locked with mine as his hot breath ran over my lips.

  My heart pounded against my ribs.

  “I will destroy your devil, Ovailia.”

  “There is no devil to destroy, only hell.”

  He smiled, content with my flattery. Releasing me, he stepped away, and my chest ached with a sigh of release that I wouldn’t give him, not yet.

  “A hell that everyone will soon see. Then I will show them the power that lies before them, and no one will dare cross me.” Turning toward me, he smiled gently, lifting his hand to press against my jaw, his thumb against my cheek.

  I expected the volatile pressure of his anger, but it was simply a gentle flutter of skin against mine.

  The disgusting lust increased under my skin, my magic swimming to meet his with eager energy.

  “Don’t worry.” Sain kept his voice low, the deep, sultry notes affecting me like warm milk lulling me into a stupor as I fought the need to melt with the deep need that was threatening to drown me. “You will see this hell. You will help me kill the devils before us. I know it. I have seen it … my queen.”

  I started, the similarity in what he had said, in what Damek had said, coating me in panicked fear.

  He knew.

  He had to know.

  The way he smiled. The way he pulled me into him.

  This was a warning, a chilling threat.

  Sain’s eager grin was ripe with the same malicious intent mine was. The look was so clear I wondered which one of us would kill the other first, whose blood would be a brighter stain against our skin.

  Stomach twisting, heart pounding, I stepped closer, leaning in as I breathed him in. I breathed in the bright green of his eyes. I breathed in the smell of blood that infected his skin. I breathed in the tickle of beard against the softness of my cheek.

  “My king,” I whispered, letting the hatred drip from me, blending with the lust so powerfully I was certain he didn’t miss either emotion.

  He pulled away, his green eyes hungry as his lips twitched. His beard pulled before he leaned into me, pressing his lips to mine with a deep hunger that infected me.

  I kissed him back, letting his magic tickle against mine before pulling away with a smile, despite part of me not wanting to. Part of me was dying inside.

  Sweeping my hair over my shoulder, I took a step closer, pressing my hip against his. “I live to serve you,” I whispered into the dark, my hatred of this man finally taking control with the realization that I could use him. “Tell me what to do.”

  He opened his mouth, but the words were sucked from his throat as the main doors to the hall were thrown open, and Damek rushed in with a look of awe and fear.

  “Damek!” Sain screamed.

  The intruder froze in place as Sain rushed into the bright open part of the hall. Sain’s shoulders pulled into a tight line of anger as Damek began to wilt beneath his glare.

  “I told you not to disturb me, no matter—”

  “But, master …” Damek began before the words faded into the clicking and gasping more akin to a fish out of water.

  Sain’s hand twitched as his magic closed the man’s throat, punishing him.

  “Speak, Damek,” Sain teased, but the request was unneeded thanks to the girl who rushed through the door, screaming like a banshee, her hair wild as it flew behind her, her skin and clothes streaked with blood.

  No. It couldn’t be. I had thought she was dead.

  “Míra!” Sain yelled gleefully, as if he were a rotund grandfather welcoming home an estranged love one. “I had a feeling I would see you today.”

  “He’s dead! You killed him!” the girl screamed, her magic sparking a second before she attacked. The stream of red fire sparkled across the air toward Sain.

  His laugh boomed above the current of her magic a second before it vanished. The red dripped to the ground like wax, the fire dissolving to smoke in the air.

  Míra’s eyes widened, her anger swept away by fear as she began to tremble.

  Sain’s laugh grew deeper. His own magic flew across the air with a flick of his wrist, wrapping around the girl and trapping her inside the deep sheath of black smoke.

  Stomach tensing, I took a step forward before freezing.

  Damek’s wide eyes met mine, the hushed conversation we’d had clear in the bloodshot gray. Every coded word and hushed phrase stuck out as the scene before me began to unravel. I froze, my stomach twisting as my magic jerked around inside of me, dying to get out.

  However, I was no longer clear on who I would attack or even why.

  “I killed who, exactly?” Sain mused, his voice full of false promises as it echoed around the wide cavern. “Your master? That weak man who infected you with a Štít? Yes, I killed—”

  “You killed him! I killed my brother because of him – he didn’t have to die.” Míra interrupted, her voice strangled underneath the malevolence that was as bright as the blood on her face. “You killed my brother! He’s dead because of you! Because of both of you!”

  With the snap of her anger, Míra’s magic broke free of Sain’s
control, a whip of gray hissing through the air to slam against Sain’s chest.

  The old man gasped, stumbling back into the dark as the magic moved into him. His blood-soaked cloak fell from his shoulders, waving through the air like a fallen banner.

  As my chest heaved with dissidence, my magic prickled against my skin as I waited for the right moment to attack, to know what to do.

  “You don’t deserve to live!” Míra snapped before another bolt of magic, another attack moved across the air and right into the old man as the child ran toward him, obviously intent on ending him.

  Heart thumping in my chest, pressing against me, eager to watch his end, I did nothing.

  I stood and watched … waiting.

  Míra sent another attack as she screamed, tears streaming down her face and mixing with the blood that caked over her skin to create haunting rivers of red that flowed over her cheeks, dripping against her filthy clothes in a pool of heartbreak.

  “If I can’t have him, no one ca—”

  Her words were cut short by the violent snap of Sain’s magic amongst the dark, a brilliant light burning my eyes as Sain fought back, the girl flying through the air at the impact.

  She didn’t even scream. She soared, falling end over end before landing with a solitary thump of flesh against stone.

  I cringed at the sound, jerking as the silence of the battle stretched around me.

  Damek’s heaving breath was the lone sound. The lone movement … until …

  With a slow, haunting chill, Sain began to push himself into a standing position, moving slowly in the dark. The bright spot of red and white fabric was a wad in his fist.

  I stepped back in disbelief, my heels clicking once in the silence, and Sain’s eyes flashed to mine, the white bright against the dark. Bright with anger.

  “Don’t think I don’t know your true meaning, my dear,” he growled, his voice violent as he stepped back into the dark, his eyes again focused on the girl. “And you said there was no devil in you. I will deal with you later.”

  My heart stuttered painfully, and a lump lodged itself in my throat.

  I tried to swallow, but everything was blocked by fear, the sensation so unfamiliar it drove the fear further.

  “Your brother …” Sain mused, his magic lifting the girl into the air, letting her hang there, twisting aloft like a rag doll.

  She could be dead.

  My muscles seized at the possibility, but her eyes were alive, the wide orbs staring straight at the old man who held her, fear as clear as mine staring back at me.

  “I have seen your brother in my sights. I have seen him laid into the ground, dead and cold, head almost ripped from his shoulders,” Sain said with a laugh. “If he is dead, you were the one to kill him. Did you kill your brother, little girl?”

  Her eyes pulled wider, her jaw moving as she attempted to work the words out.

  “You were supposed to die, little girl. But it seems that Edmund’s magic still lives inside of you, which suits me fine. The more power I can absorb, the better.”

  Damek and I exchanged looks at Sain’s admission. His shock seeped across the air so heavily I was in no doubt he was about to attack Sain. I was one step behind him. If Edmund’s magic was alive, if it was alive in this little girl …

  Sain’s malicious laugh pulled me away from my hope as his magic shot like lightning through the air and right into the little girl.

  She screamed as the current moved into her body, screamed as the demon of a man stepped toward her, his lips extended into a wide, caustic smile.

  His smile bore into me, awakening my own need for his magic, for the magic I had coveted for so long.

  It should be mine.

  The fear faded as my own smile took its place, my magic bristling under my skin with the need for her blood, for that which should be mine.

  Sain had gotten there first, however. His own scream echoed hers as his magic began to move into her, ready to rip Edmund’s magic out of the Štít.

  Damek fell back, cowering against the stone, pressing himself into it as he tried to move away from the electricity that crackled in the air, everything as bright as day. Even the half-man watched in fear, cowering in his cage.

  I, however, stepped forward, my eyes wide in awe as the crackling lights faded, as the screaming stopped and the child fell to the ground in a heap, her skinny limbs twisted awkwardly, unmoving.

  “No!” Sain snapped the second she fell. “It’s not there …”

  “Sain?” I asked hesitantly, my powerful voice shaking with uncertainty. I wasn’t even sure if I had heard what he had said. I couldn’t look away from the child.

  “How could it not be there …”

  The admission pulled me from my horror, the tension in my jaw increasing as I turned toward the man who looked at me with unabashed malice.

  “Edmund’s magic isn’t there?” I questioned.

  He rounded on me, kicking the girl once before he rushed to my side.

  Míra didn’t even make a noise at the impact. If she weren’t dead before, she was now.

  “No!” Sain yelled in my face. “The Štít isn’t there. Nothing is there.”

  I looked at the girl hungrily before Sain’s magic wrapped around me, pulling me toward him with a snap.

  “I said it’s not there,” he hissed, saliva spraying over my face. “Don’t think that you can go and find it yourself. I can see what you are thinking, Ovailia, I can see your pathetic greed. I can see your weakness. Leaving the child to attack me. I should rip your magic from your heart right now, leave you as dead and useless as that one.”

  He knocked his head toward what was left of Alojz, my heart speeding up as if the thing could tell what he was talking about, its own fear of being stripped of something so precious ripping me apart.

  “You couldn’t …” I began. Although strong, I could feel my words falter inside of me. I didn’t dare finish. I knew from the look in his eyes, from what I had seen, that he could.

  That he would.

  “Don’t try me, Ovailia,” he snapped, pressing himself so close to me I could smell the rancid fish on his breath. “You are as dead and useless as that one. You only have use as long as I deem it. Don’t force me to change my mind.”

  I cringed, hair waving down my back as I tried to move away, but his fingers clawed around my forearm, pulling me back.

  Damek’s whimpering increased as he continued his attempt to move into the wall, but I didn’t look away from the green eyes of the devil before me.

  I didn’t care what he said. He was the devil.

  A devil I would destroy. I had to.

  “Yes, master,” I said, emphasizing the word and letting it seep into him and soothe his ego. Although, I was confident he could taste the deceitfulness in it.

  He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “Good.” He released my arm, and I teetered on my heels, resisting the urge to rub the pressure out of the skin. “Now take this girl and dispose of her. I have no use for her.”

  Sain gave me one more look before he turned and exited, leaving Damek and I standing alone in the hall, surrounded by skeletons.

  I looked from the girl who lay lifeless on the floor, to the man, the once powerful servant who was now as oppressed as broken as I. The same death in me as clear as it was in him, I would say he was already dead if it wasn’t for the fire I saw in his eyes. The same one that was alive in me.

  “Are you going to play?” Damek asked, all sign of shake gone from his voice.

  I stared at him, eyes glancing at the door, at what was left of the child and knew what faced me- the same fate I would find no matter my path, it seemed.

  It was blood either way.

  I nodded.

  RYLAND

  16

  For months, the hospital had been full, healing the Chosen and Skȓíteks who were injured on raids. The air had been filled with the smell of plants and salves and tea. Now the injured had been cleared out to make ro
om for the dead and dying.

  The beds were covered with white sheets, the air saturated with the overwhelming scent of blood.

  This is a familiar scent for you, isn’t it, son?

  Blood was everywhere, staining the floor and dripping from sheets. It covered my chest and hands, infecting my clothes and drying the cotton against my skin in a rigid cast. It dripped from my sagging curls and down my face, mixing with the silent tears that wouldn’t stop.

  I didn’t even try to clean the blood, just as I didn’t try to stop the tears.

  You should.

  Are you so weak you would cry like this?

  Ignoring the voice, I squeezed the tiny hand that was clutched in mine, expecting to feel the tiny pressure of his.

  There was nothing. The fingers were cold and rigid beneath mine. Jaromir was already gone, a gray sheen painted over his skin, his lips and eyelids a haunted shade of blue.

  I stood beside him, staring at the bed right beside his, at the Skȓítek healers who were rushing to-and-fro in a mad attempt to save a life.

  Her life.

  Risha’s.

  I couldn’t see her through the wall of activity except for the waves of strawberry curls that fell over the side of the bed. The usually soft curl in her hair was damp and sagging from her blood. The same blood that covered me.

  It covers you because you were too weak to do what you needed.

  Too weak to do what I asked …

  No. Weakness does not live in this moment, Father. Muscles tightening, I stopped the voice with a snap, not willing to let it take over. Not now, not after everything Risha had taught me.

  I needed to take control.

  For her.

  For me.

  “We need a stronger salve,” I heard one of the healers say, her voice tense, and the lanky man in front of me turned to the nightstand between us.

  “Does anyone have any deadwood bark?” the lanky man asked, his hand moving fast as the smell of lemon grass overtook the smell of blood while he began to grind something in a mortar.

  “I need stronger magic to stop this bleeding,” said another, their voice panicked. “I can’t knit the skin back fast enough.”