Burnt Devotion (35 page)

The only problem was, I was beginning to doubt which side I should choose.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that they had chosen the clock as their safe house. It was the obvious choice, after all. It hadn’t been used in at least fifty years. It was concealed visually and close enough to the river that it provided a quick getaway should things go south.

Which was probably why I was so surprised he had gone for something so … predictable. Of all the safe houses he had littered through this city, he had gone to the obvious one.

My brother never had been the smart one, no matter what anyone said.

I exhaled in disgust as a Vilỳ flew before me, its teeth gnashing in obvious rage, the tiny, sharpened points ready to dig into my flesh.

“Zdechnout.” The word ground from behind my teeth, and the filthy thing fell to the ground as if it had been stunned, its now lifeless body curling into itself before hardening into stone, its life nothing more than sediment now.

It was only rudimentary magic, but one I was grateful to my father for instilling in the things. With a one word command, there was instant death. A safety switch. Without it, I wouldn’t have been able to lead Sain and his two lifeless companions through the street.

Of course, one was lifeless thanks to some handiwork I had been working on for a while. A little bit of arsenic for his mortal body, a little bit of omezující stone extract for his magic, a good helping of stolen soul, and he was good as dead.

That had been the easy part, of course—poisoning Thom. Convincing Sain to trust me and follow me had been a bit harder, but not by much. From the moment he had walked into the city, I had no doubt the voices in his head had grown louder, the internal manipulation my father had plagued him with for centuries igniting as though someone had flipped a switch.

In a way, we had.

If he had thought he had been in control all this time, he had been very wrong.

He had never been in control. And he never would be again.

With one touch of my skin against his, my magic flooded into him, and his magic reacted even if his heart did not.

I could see the power of that connection ignite in his eyes, the confusion as heart and mind battled in a fight I already knew the outcome of. So did he.

The force of the heart is strong, but magic could be stronger.

I made sure mine was.

And now he was eating out of my hand, just as my father had asked. Even though I was sure he was fighting it, what could he say?
Ovailia helped me get the battered boys here, and now she knows where we are.

My father’s plan was working out perfectly.

I smiled, the wide grin spreading over my face with malice as my heart rate accelerated, my next target speeding into view as if she had been summoned here. I guessed, she had in a way.

It was Ilyan’s command for them all to regroup here, after all, a fact that had been made very clear by Sain’s useless blubbering as we walked.

And now she was here, my useless brother floating lifeless by her side as though she had him on strings.

Another of our puppets.

She ran with a heard of the filthy things right behind her. Part of me wished they would reach her, and then I could step in, down the filthy creatures with a word, and steal her heart, her magic, as I had been commanded.

I knew better. I couldn’t yet, not if we wanted Sain’s manipulation to play in our favor. The timing for Wynifred’s end must be perfect. Just as Thom’s had been. Just as Sain’s would be. A perfectly orchestrated dance, ending with my elder brother’s head on a pyre, his ridiculous mate’s right beside him.

The though made me smile.

My targets, happily closeted away in a safe house I not only knew about, but thanks to the magic Ilyan had implanted inside of me, I could easily gain access to.

It was almost too easy.

My brother
was
a fool.

Wyn reached the door in a rush, throwing Ryland past the threshold a moment before she turned toward the Vilỳs, her eyes sparking with a flame I had seen all too many times before.

I smiled as she began to glow, my magic reacting in warning. As much as I would love to stay for the show, I turned and walked down the alley I had closeted myself in, my heels tapping and hair swishing as I felt the heat of her fire grow behind me.

I didn’t even look. I only pulsed my magic to life. The powerful swell expanded inside of me as I walked, the tapping of my shoes changing from the clang of the old cobbles to the thud of the cave as the streets of Prague faded into the caves of Imdalind. One simple stutter to the room that had once been Ilyan’s and now was the central hub of Edmund’s operations. A massive space made for a king, and now, after all this time, the rightful one had taken up residence within it.

At first, I had thought the choice to be pointless. Ilyan’s quarters were nowhere near the center of the cave network nor were they anywhere that was necessarily accessible.

It was only after he had started work on delving into the depths of the cave in his search for the mud that I realized why that room was the best choice for our objective.

It was the perfect outlet to relieve the anger that Ilyan had built in him. What better to calm the nerves than to destroy everything your bastard son possessed?

I walked into the hall that led to his ornate set of rooms, the once polished cave walls lined with divots of a magical attack that had been unleashed only days before, perfect outlines of ash detailing where Skȓíteks had once stood. Thick lines of their blood were splattered against the walls and pooled in dried patches against the floor. Ilyan’s immaculate belongings burst from the many doors, the clothing specifically designed for council and for weddings ripped and soiled with blood and body matter, precious stones ripped unceremoniously from the once elegant fabric.

Everything stunk in the warm scent of death, the putrid aroma wrinkling my nose as I passed it. A small smile twitched at the corner of my lips at the thought of Ilyan’s face if he was to ever see this hall again. To see what we had done and where the remains of the last of his people had ended up.

Part of me wanted to be there when he did see in order to witness the beauty of his agony. To watch his heart break from within his body as we added his precious half-breed to the remains.

My father stood right inside the last set of doors, his guards standing at attention all around him, at the entrance and lining the walls of the massive space. Even if there was a chance at someone getting this far into the maze of Imdalind, they wouldn’t be able to get at him.

The ceilings stretched into massive stone buttresses, natural light filtering in from the mirrored shafts that stretched to the surface in the serpentine tunnels that were only mildly less confusing than the ones we had been trying to infiltrate for the past two months.

What once had been Ilyan’s main living space was now left in shambles more disastrous than the hall that led to it. Furniture lay in splinters, feathers and cotton and glass spread over the floor in a maze of texture, only to have the whole array covered with crimson blood and ebony ink. It was art in a way.

It was beautiful.

The smell was even worse in here if it was possible. However, after walking through the hall, my body wasn’t rebelling against it as much.

My hair flew over my shoulder with a flip of my head, the sound of my shoes growing louder as I approached my father. His focus was on the detailed model of the tunnel system he had been working on since I first had been able to gain him access to the serpentine cave system.

Of course, it hadn’t been without recourse.

It should have been easy. My father had built many of these caves; he knew where the well lay. Or at least, he had.

Unbeknownst to everyone, Ilyan had been working to expand and move the caves, changing the paths and trails in all the time that Edmund had been barred from them. Meaning, the information that was once only privy to Edmund and Ilyan was now only known by the poster child for good, himself.

My lips curled.

At least Ilyan was in the city. Even if the Vilỳs weren’t able to take control of his mind and power, he would still be of use to us.

“They are above the clock.” My voice reverberated off the white, stone walls, the large acoustic space making the sound much louder than I had meant it to be.

Edmund remained hunched over, his hair falling over his eyes as he studied the diagram. His fingers drawing lines of magic as he attempted to ascertain the correct path to where he hoped the wells were.

“All of them?”

“I know for certain Sain and Wynifred have taken refuge there with Dramin, Thom, and Ryland.” The tap of my shoes moved in time with my words as I walked around the room, lifting what was once an elegant tunic with my toe. I remembered when the surfs had given it to Ilyan right after he had declared their debts paid.

An irritated scoff spilled from me at the disgusting memory. I would never understand why anyone saw him as a saint.

“But not Ilyan.” His eyes darted to mine for the briefest of seconds before settling back down on the model. The disappointment in that brief glance was so clear that I could almost feel his hand press against my spine.

I cringed against the fluid panic, straightening my back to face him.

The start of fear rolled through me, but I pushed it away. Fear was only a weakness that would get you killed. Sadness would only show the easiest way to dispose of you. I would do neither.

“Not that I saw, Father.” My voice was level as I stood before him, my confidence clear, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his rage at bay. It rippled down his back like a cat curling in preparation for attack.

My muscles tensed, but I did not move. I did not deviate my eyes from him. I was not a fool enough to do so.

“And why didn’t you wait to make sure my son had made it to the supposed safety with the others?” His voice was a growl as he rose to meet me, the depth of his hatred rolling through the room in waves of green.

“Wynifred ignited the city.”

Edmund jerked at my statement, his eyes wide with greed as his lips curled into a smile, the malice in his eyes seeping into me and igniting my own.

The gluttony grew, the desire for what he so desperately wanted coloring him along with the greasy smile that spread over his face. He walked toward me with that slow, calculated step he always had when he was plotting, when his mind was working far ahead of the cold, stone walls that held us.

I watched him move, my own greed growing, my own desire to see that magic in his hands swelling until I was regretting not having taken her then. With her power, it wouldn’t have mattered if we had Ilyan. With the fire magic, we could boil the stone down, and then Edmund could walk a straight path to the wells that held all the magic we needed to control the world.

“She used it again?” His voice was a snake that wound over my spine.

“Yes, Father.”

His smile grew, and this time, I stepped away. Foot falling over foot as I backed away from the fearful need that lined his face, an act that only fueled the desire that rampaged through him.

“The same as last time?”

“If she did the same, do you think I would still be standing here?” The words flew out without so much of a thought, the quick sass he had ingrained in me slipping out in one of the only places that it probably shouldn’t.

He blanched at my tone, the smile vanishing from his face before it returned, even more sinister than before.

My spine tensed at the rage that would follow my answer, the air in the room turning chill in expectation. Even the guards who surrounded us tensed, their eyes watching my father as he approached me, each impact of his foot against the floor resounding loudly in my ears.

“Tell me of Sain,” he snarled, his voice more of a warning than I would like to admit.

Even through the look, even through the fear he tried to instill in me, I stood tall, my eyes unwavering from his. At any other time, I might have tried to find my way out of the situation with flattery or lies, but this time, I had at least been able to give him what he wanted.

“It was as you said,” I whispered, careful to keep my voice low, to draw him into me with the news I had for him. “Sain has not escaped the bind you have on him, no matter how much he pretends to be free. Whatever you have done was enough, and he slipped. He slipped enough that I was able to find him before the attack began then incapacitate Thom and draw him back in.”

“So he is in love with you, then?”

“No,” I admitted, surprised to see his face fall.

My father prided himself on wooing and bedding women in record time, a skill that was passed on to none of his children. For whatever reason, he was not pleased with it, either. I had come close with Cail on his instruction, but the fool had died before I’d had a chance to complete the task. I still took his magic in the end.

“But his magic is still attempting to fuse with mine, something that I helped along. The possibility of a restored bond is too much for his weak energy to resist. Give it time, Father. He will feed into our hands, just as you wish.”