Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)

The glow of power sped from his hand in a brilliant purple flame that would incapacitate me if it had time to make contact.

I never even saw it leave his hand before the faint pop of the stutter surrounded me, sending me out of that space and into a field that had been a farm, but there, in the dead of winter, it was little more than endless rows of withered corn stalks. Twisted crumbs of lifeless flora swayed in the bitter winter wind that tugged at the cape that was now a necessity.

My heaving breath flowed before me in millions of specs of white ice, the yellow sun and blue sky hovering above like crude shapes in a child’s drawing.

The other side of the barrier.

Try as others might, only I could move through it … Or rather, only I had the power needed to do it. However, I let Ovailia and Edmund think the move was made possible by their connection, by the control they had over me.

Another simple lie, ripe with benefits.

“Hello, Sain,” Her voice was the distorted silk it had always been, the sound of seduction and pleasure and gain. So fake, so forced. I had heard her true nature a few times before, and I would always prefer it to this. She seemed to think whatever she was putting into this fa?ade was an asset; however, she was all acid and vice, everything about her coated with so much malice any lust she tried to conjure was cracked.

It still affected me the same way, though, perhaps because I had been with her. Perhaps it was because we were both hiding a deep strain of malevolence no one else understood.

A perfect match, which made the fact that my magic was trying to pull into hers more irritating.

She moved toward me slowly, her gaze never leaving mine as her ridiculous heels crunched into the dead undergrowth in loud snaps. Her eyes were dark orbs of plum blue as she leaned closer, running her finger over my lips, and my heart tensed in confusion and irritation at the gentle touch.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up.” Her finger didn’t leave my face, her magic continuing to wind around me like some poisonous snake that I could tell neither wanted me nor wanted to let me go.

“Hello, Ovi.” I kept my voice low and fearful, back to the cowering role she knew. The fa?ade was fueled by the bitter cold, the chill of the air a biting pressure against my lungs.

I inhaled, savoring the sting of the icy wind as it moved over my skin, tugging at the cloak, at my hair, and taking any hope of warmth away from me.

“Why did you stop?” she snarled, the calm of my greeting unheard as she moved ever closer, her hand wrapping around my neck in a violent warning.

I shook underneath the touch, but not for the reason she would assume.

“It wasn’t my fault,” I cowered, letting my voice warble as I fought against the strong waves of pride that rippled through me at her accusation.

She turned away at my denial, her hair swinging over the pristine white of her fur coat like a flurry of snow. White against silver. It was beautiful.

I would give her that; her beauty was still hard to resist.

Something foreign swirled through me as I stood, lost in thought, while two of her guards appeared from the air around us, flanking me so close that, for a moment, I was truly afraid they were going to take me to Edmund. I didn’t need that, not yet.

I wasn’t ready for that yet. I still needed Ryland’s blade. I still needed Thom.

“You stopped moving. You almost severed the magic—”

“I was being followed.”

Her eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments before they widened in shock.

“Ilyan.” It wasn’t a question, though it probably should have been. He wasn’t the only one who could stutter anymore, but she didn’t seem to care, even though I knew that she, too, possessed the ability. “And the girl?”

I nodded, Ovailia’s shock leaching back into disgust as a loud hiss slipped past her lips.

She turned away from me in anger, her hair fanning around her like a blizzard.

“How did they find you? You told us that your sight is clean.” Her voice traveled on the bitter wind, moving through me.

I shivered, letting the weak movement move through me like a wave. “You know how he found me. That girl can track magic better than most Vil?s,” I snapped, regretting the outburst the moment Ovailia turned back to me, her eyes dark in warning.

The guards increased their holds at her look, hands digging into my arms as they held me in place. I grimaced at the pain, at the pressure.

None of them cared.

“Did he see you?”

“Not that I could tell.”

Ovailia studied me for a moment, obviously skeptical, before she narrowed her eyes. Her hand drifted to the side as she dismissed the guards, the burly Trpaslíks fading back into nothing as they pulled their shields around them.

“So you are still good for something, I take it.” Her voice was a poisonous reptile, the look in her eyes ready to attack.

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