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Authors: Rebecca Ethington

Burnt Devotion (34 page)

BOOK: Burnt Devotion
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My heart seized. I had heard of this. Although, I had never seen it, and now, seeing it on Thom… The world must have stopped spinning on its axis. I was positive of it.

“But how?” I asked even though I knew there was only one way to get přetížení dávka.

An overstimulation of magic.

It was much like what could happen if you pushed too much magic into someone who couldn’t handle it. They would drown in it, their bodies essentially exploding from the inside out. I had done it a few times on weaker opponents, and it was a fascinating way to die.

This, though... This was the equivalent of a magical overdose. If magic was heroin, this would be the outcome of taking too much, of stealing too much. I had seen the same sores on Edmund for years as he gorged on the magic within the hearts I had brought him, strengthening as he pushed himself right to the limit, only to bring himself back, stronger than before.

But Thom?

Even after all the centuries we had lived and worked by Edmund’s law, I didn’t think he would ever stoop to that.

“He wouldn’t.”

“I do not see Thomas engaging in such darkness.” Ilyan placed his hand over his brother before he stood, his voice heavy and distanced as he spoke more to assure himself than me, I believed. “But there is only one way for this to happen…”

My teeth clenched together in adamant refusal as I stared at him, waiting for him to give another explanation that I was sure was not going to come.

“I don’t want to believe this, Ilyan.” The words barely made it out.

“I don’t know what else it could be. The boils, the inability to wake…” Ilyan’s voice faded into nothing as he stared at me, both of us silently wishing it was anything else.

Sain, on the other hand, stayed strangely quiet from where he stood, the fear that had plagued him seemingly gone as he stared at his best friend. They had been through so much together, knew each other so well, yet…

“Did you know, Sain?” Awe, disbelief, and a hurt I didn’t think I could fully explain rushed out of me.

The old man’s focus snapped to me before moving back to the limp body of his friend, his head shaking sadly in a silent answer.

It should have calmed me, but something about his lack of emotion was unsettling, especially given the last few minutes with his panic and need to run.

Drak were only bland vessels for magic, but after Sain’s terror of the last few minutes, I would have expected more. As if by proving he could feel, he should from now on.

Ilyan said nothing as he moved over to check on Ryland again, shifting the two men around until they lay side-by-side like bodies prepared for burial, a fact that only twisted through me more.

“We need to move,” Ilyan announced. Joclyn came through the door as he spoke, as if he was announcing her arrival and not our immediate departure.

“Move?” I asked, my focus drifting from my best friend to her mate so fast I could have sworn I was seeing double. “Move the bodies? Move from the city? Or move to a new safe house? Because, after everything we went through, I would be all for leaving the city and letting me burn it to the ground. We can rebuild. But not with the flying rats trying to rip our throats out at every turn.”

Joclyn and Ilyan stared at me as though they were somehow softening the blow, and while I was sure that was part of it, I could see their minds working far too quickly for them to merely be standing and not having one of their ever-irritating mind-meld sessions.

“Spit it out, you two,” I scoffed, unable to keep my irritation at bay. “The whole internal talking thing is fun and all—”

“We can’t leave the city.”

They were five dumb words, but they sliced through my ramble like a knife. I had known it was a possibility, but I hadn’t expected it. I hadn’t expected five ridiculous words to seep from Joclyn’s lips and crush me.

“What?” I couldn’t keep the alarm out of my voice.

The shrill sound cut through the stagnant air, sending swirls of dust into the shallow light beams we were surrounded by. I cringed at the noise as the sound of the Vilỳs outside the window picked up, my noise reawakening their attempts, and the scratches picked up along with the shrieks, the sound echoing loudly around us.

Through the darkness of the room, everything was alive with fear. However, we all stood still, staring at each other in that irritating expectation that was normally reserved for bad daytime TV.

And the father is…

No one, because we are all going to die.

“If you don’t answer, I may accidentally set this whole building on fire…”

Jos’s lip twitched at my partially serious ultimatum, her grip on her mate loosening enough so she could turn to face me.

“Edmund has blocked us in. He has built a wall and placed a domed shield over the city. I can’t find a way past it.”

“Great.” I was way too loud, and I knew it. I also didn’t care. If the Vilỳs didn’t manage to get through, we were doomed, anyway. “Three of us against a million or so Vilỳ? Well, at least we are powerful and will put up a good fight. Fire magic, Silnỳ, King of the Skȓíteks. Sorry, Sain, I would include you in this powwow, but we all know Draks are useless. Unless you have something to see, that is.”

“I have nothing to see in the interim,” Sain growled, his voice bristling a bit.

I spouted what came to mind, not worrying if I hurt him, my sour voice striking through each of them as my magic flared angrily. I knew I should control that part of me better. I just didn’t care.

Negativity was leaching off me like a virus. I didn’t think I had ever felt so outnumbered before. Even when I had destroyed that nest of Drak…

I pushed the thought away, willing some Styx song to come into my head and take it away. It was the best palate cleanser if ever there was one. Well, at least my choice to live was good for a little bit.

“Calm down, Wynifred,” Ilyan growled, his voice rumbling while Joclyn walked over to me, her arm weaving around my shoulder.

“There’s more,” she whispered, her voice low as Ilyan went into the room she had come from.

Sain was looking at me with that same panicked fear before he followed his king. I looked after him, trying to understand what was going on, before Jos pulled my attention again.

“We found some refugees…”

“Refugees?”

“Some people got out of Imdalind. It’s not just us anymore…”

“How many?” I interrupted, knowing I should be more focused on the fact that people had made it out of the blood bath Edmund had unleashed on Imdalind. At any other time, it would have been my focus, but not now.

A distant scream filtered through the frantic scratching of the Vilỳs as if on cue. My head turned to it, almost expecting the victim to be standing behind us with dozens of Vilỳs ripping at their flesh. There was nothing other than darkness, though. Nothing except the old, dust-covered table that had been pushed up against the window probably before Joclyn had even been born.

“Numbers don’t matter. There will be enough.” Her voice had deepened the way Sain’s always did when he was
seeing
something. My body tensed at the realization, the similarities bristling through me.

“And I am guessing you aren’t going to tell me how you know that…” I rolled my eyes at her, something she only laughed at me about and pulled me closer to her.

My irritation begged me to move away from her, but I stayed staring at the men that lay before us. I hadn’t expected the whole ambiguous ‘I don’t need to tell you about my sight’ thing to come from Jos. Sain and Dramin, yes. I mean, Sain had already done it enough for me to plaster a house with my irritation. But Jos, now that was a line I had never thought we would hit. Especially after the whole head-butt fight I had witnessed between her and her father.

“Well, I would,” she sighed, her own irritation blazing through, “if I knew one hundred percent. But I don’t. I just have a dumb sight with things that may or may not happen…”

That sounded like the Jos I knew.

I laughed as she huffed in irritation, the diplomatic attempt she had made all but gone now.

“I guess I’ll have to take it,” I said as my laugh faded away. “As long as you saw it, I suppose, then I know it will happen. My best friend’s sights are the very best sights…” I spoke as nonchalantly as I always had with her, the laughter rolling off my voice. Her reaction wasn’t humorous. It was almost frightening.

She flinched beside me, her shoulders pinching together in a tight, little spasm that reminded me so much of the broken girl I had seen only days before, the broken soul Ryland still fought.

My stomach dropped in fear as I turned to her, expecting the roving eyes and the manic movements to return. She only stood there, her eyes wide with the same fear she’d had when she had first walked in.

“Jos?” I asked tentatively almost expecting her to recoil under the word, but she only stood before me, her wide eyes staring far away from me, through me. “Are you…? Are you seeing now?” I could barely get the words out, the awkwardness of what she could do still not completely normal for me. It still kind of felt like finding out a cat you had raised really had two heads, and it had been hiding one all along.

“No.” Her voice was dead, and I almost didn’t believe her, until her focus resettled on me, the same fear cutting through me. My back tensed on its own, my magic fighting against the restraint I had it under. “Just worried about getting all of these unconscious and injured males out of here and to the next safe house.” Her smile slowly grew with each word, the fear leaving her eyes, even if it was a little bit.

“Why is it always us girls who have to clean up after their messes?” Jos put her hands on her hips with a smile, looking so much like a house mom complaining about messy toys that I couldn’t help but laugh.

Sadly, it was true. All the boys—save Ilyan—were useless.

“Watch yourself, Jos,” I cautioned, unable to stop the smile from spreading over my face. “Ilyan will hear you, and then he probably will make us do it all on our own.”

I said it in jest, but I already knew how true it was. I had been on the receiving end of Ilyan’s “I’ll show you who’s boss” temper tantrums too many times. I wasn’t really interested in a repeat, especially when thousands of ravenous rat birds were involved.

Maybe I could conjure that giant two-headed cat to eat them all.

“Nah…” Her smile only grew. “He wouldn’t try. He knows I can kick his ass.”

I laughed while she did as a very loud and painful cough came from the other room. We both looked toward it on instinct, our laughter growing as Ilyan interjected loudly, his voice muffled by the heavy walls of the house.

The laughter died quickly, leaving us standing in the middle of the dark, the dust swirling around us as the sound of the Vilỳs continually grew louder.

“Wyn?” I fought the need to jump at her question, her voice so soft that I was surprised it had scared me so much.

I said nothing. I only looked at her in expectation, watching her jaw clench and unclench as she fought with some question that seemed to have gnawed off her tongue. I waited while her jaw chewing increasing to the point I was sure she was going to lose her nerve.

“What is it, Jos?”

“Do you think the sights are infallible?” Her question was broken and strangled, her eyes shifting away from me as though she was asking to borrow a car. The look was almost ridiculous.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, unable to restrain the laugh that swelled at her question. “You were the one who told Sain they weren’t. That they couldn’t be.”

“I know, but … this one … I mean … They feel different…”

“Feel different?” The question wasn’t right, but I didn’t know how else to ask, how else to understand. I had no basis for sight.

She only looked at me as the voices beyond the wall grew, the heavy footsteps making it clear they were coming, and it was time to get all these broken boys out of here. To get to the next safe house and see exactly what numbers we were dealing with.

“I don’t trust him, Wyn. Something’s off, something he’s not telling me.”

“Sain?” I asked, my stomach tensing at the connection. It was one I didn’t want to make and one I didn’t fully understand.

She only nodded as the door opened, the three men shuffling through the large gap with Dramin supported between the two more able-bodied.

Jos looked at me once more before she walked off to help the poor men, leaving me standing in the middle of the dark dust motes, staring at the four people that, in some weird way, had left me questioning everything I had thought to be clear and concise.

Hours.

It had only been hours, and now everything was not only filled with a frightening danger, but more questions than I cared to think about.

Trust.

It was such a fine line and confusing haze of knowing whom to trust and whom not to. After hundreds of years, I knew I could trust Ilyan. After everything in the prison, I knew I could trust Sain.

But now, everything was somehow becoming muddled. I could almost see a line being drawn before me, sides being chosen, knowing my turn was coming.

BOOK: Burnt Devotion
8.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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