We stood still, waiting for the attack, but the alley was empty except for the dozens of Vil?s that poked their heads out of their hiding places, too scared to come out all the way.
“You fools. It’s not an attack. At least not on us,” Edmund snapped as he pushed his way past our open arms, his stride wide as he gave his guard one look.
With shivering veils of magic, they vanished back to their patrol, the single glance all they needed as far as instructions went.
Edmund sneered as he continued to walk away from us all, disappearing from view as he moved toward the middle of the street.
Remaining still, I followed the sound of his shoes. The soft sound was all that was left to tell me where he was. I knew better than to follow him without request. Míra, however, followed blindly, her hand on her chest as she tried to locate his magic, no longer able to see him.
The moment he reappeared, she rushed to his side, her feet moving like little patters of rain. Instead of moving into the protective stance she was being trained for, though, she moved behind him, her shoulders hunched as she cowered in a fear I hadn’t seen in her before.
A mild groan escaped her lips as she leaned against him, her hand pressed against the ?tít and the pain I didn’t doubt was emanating from the controlling vessel.
“You pathetic fool,” he snapped, his focus on the now doubled-over child. “I am your king, your lord, and your master. You would not be alive if not for me, and you will do well to remember that. Do what you have been trained to do, or I will kill you, anyway. I always enjoy watching things bleed.” He kicked her away from him as he finished.
The child whimpered in pain as she fell into one of the piles of blood and excrement littering the city, her hair fanning around her like a feathered cloak.
I didn’t even try to stop the smile that spread over my face as my father turned to me. My back straightened as his gaze met mine dead on, his smile as wide and wicked as my own.
“She will learn,” I said as he laughed, his toe digging into her arm before he moved away, leaving her in a heap.
“What did you see? What was that?” I asked as he made his way over to me, his smile spreading, the wicked gleam in his eyes bright in the dark of the alley.
“What do you think the chances are that Ilyan has all of his army holed up in the cathedral?”
I hadn’t expected that, and even with the confidence in my father’s voice, the smile on my face slid away.
“We had all the churches checked shortly after the wall was placed…” I hesitated. I could already see the warning in his eyes. Delivering a contradiction to his certainty so close after what had happened was not in my best interest. “There was nothing there.”
“Nothing, as in it was empty? Or nothing, as if they were destroyed?” His smile continued to grow, the greasy mess twisting down my spine, and I shivered pleasantly.
“There was no one within them.” My voice was barely above a whisper. I was treading lightly, doubtful of where he was going yet still not wanting to defy him.
It was an interesting game of cat and mouse, one I was enjoying.
I shook my head, letting my hair fan over my back as I took a step toward him, not willing to look away, no matter how much the look in his eyes made me shiver.
“So they were empty.” His smile grew. “And yet, your brother loves churches.”
“Which is why we checked them first.”
He said nothing more before walking back to the middle of the street without shielding himself this time.
My heart rate accelerated as I watched him, caught in awe at the brazenness of his confidence, of his ability. Ilyan’s enemy stood in the open, smiling. It was beautiful the way he positioned himself with the red light bathing him, casting a long, black shadow behind him like a cape, the darkness of it matching so much of who he was.
A tense knot rippled through me and I smiled, the long-ingrained fear of this man growing.
“Come, Ovailia.”
Leaving the still sniveling child in a heap of dried blood and what looked like fresh vomit, I joined my father where he stood in the middle of the road, facing the pillar of black and blue smoke that spiraled from the cathedral.
The lazy circles of black and blue drifted through the air like feathers. Even with the red tint of light, the smoke was an unnatural shade of blue, which could mean one thing.
“Magic.” The gasp of understanding seeped out of me in a rush, the shock met by a low chuckle from my father.
“Yes,” he hissed. “And if the smoke is magic … Well, there is only one way it would be there, wouldn’t it?”
“But we checked—”
“And your brother is one of the most powerful Sk?íteks, mated to a more powerful Drak. Imagine what together they could do with that power.” He spoke with the same hunger I had heard before, the same eager desire he had whenever he spoke of Wyn’s gifts; except, this was more.
I cringed against it, already knowing what was coming.