Dawn of Ash (5 page)

“Perhaps we are waiting for the barrier to break.”

I knew that voice, that slow, snide, and overly calm voice. I knew the falseness of it and the hateful man it was attached to.

Turning toward Sain, my eyes widened at seeing him before me, surrounded by people, a look of confusion and worry plastered on his brow. He stood there like some distorted holy man: his clothes baggy, his hair unkempt, his beard untrimmed, looking as out of place as I felt. Yet, he fit. People swarmed around him while taking a step away from me.

He looked at me for a moment before whispering something to the girl next to him. Her eyes widened as he took a step toward me, a look of worry hitting his face, even if it didn’t hit his eyes.

“But the barrier
is
down!” I snapped at him. Having to deal with him never did anything good for my temper.

Joclyn, I need you to calm down.
Ilyan was pleading with me, his voice worried, concerned, and at any other time, it would have snapped me right out of it, but not when I faced my father.

“Child,” Sain cooed, the ever-present sound of irritation in his voice rattling me further. “Daughter, my child, can’t you see…? The barrier…” He gestured toward the window, his eyes sad.

Right as he said it, the screams of the Vilỳs stopped, silence resonating for the briefest of moments before the television static erupted inside of me, the grinding, electrical noise that had taken over my sights invading my reality. The sound moved through me, loud, abrasive, and painful.

I shook my head to rid myself of it, freezing in place with the knowledge of what had happened.

Sain looked at me with that same false concern, the whispers of those around him increasing.

I didn’t want to turn around. I didn’t want to see what lay outside the window, even though I already knew. I didn’t have another choice.

Joclyn, I need you to talk to me. Snap out of it, Silnỳ. Everything’s okay.
He was scared, concerned.

I didn’t care.

“What did you do, Sain?” I growled, the anger in my voice causing several around me to flinch.

It should have been my cue to calm down, to just go to Ilyan as he had asked, to forget all of this, but I couldn’t. Not with the way my anger pulsed, not with the way my muscles seized. Not with the way he was looking at me.

“What do you mean?” His feigned innocence ground against me. “I didn’t—”

“I know you did something!” It was a scream, followed by a lunge, my magic trying to fly out of me to attack him, even if that meant clawing his eyes out, all of which would have succeeded if it wasn’t for the strong arm that wrapped around my stomach, pulling me into a hard chest that I knew all too well.

Apparently, rugby muscles didn’t fade into nothing after spending a year going crazy and being tortured.

“Let me go, Ry,” I growled as I fought against his hold, fully aware that was the most I had spoken to him since the night in the cave on our way to Prague, since the day I had healed Jaromir, the little boy Ilyan had pulled from his mother’s arms.

“Not going to happen, Jos.” His grip was tight yet even. I could tell by the tension in his voice that he was having a hard time keeping a good hold on me. “You’re making a fool of yourself,
Your Highness.
”

Two words and, just like that, the reality of what I had been about to do, of what I had done, came crashing down on me. The faces of everyone came into sharp focus, the fear in their expressions increasing as they looked from me to Ryland to Sain. But mostly at me, the queen who had, for all they knew, hallucinated the fall of the barrier then turned and attacked her father.

Great.

Joclyn,
Ilyan’s voice rushed into my mind, his magic moving into me so fast I was certain I had been blocking it until that moment.
You are okay. Everything is all right.

I began to calm, my breath heavy as I stopped pushing against the wall that Ryland had captured me in.

He didn’t let go, and I didn’t blame him. I still felt dangerous. At least skin contact with him wasn’t violently painful anymore.

“What did you do?” I asked my father again, the same volatile anger grinding through my tone.

Sain looked at me, his eyes pushed open wide, his mouth agape as he shook his head, looking to those around him in loss and confusion. “I didn’t do anything, darling.”

Darling
? That was a new addition to his repertoire.

It boiled my blood.

“Are you okay?” For the first time, Sain seemed genuinely concerned, but I knew better. “What can I do?”

Stay calm, Jos. I am right here. I am with you. You can face him. Be who you are. Handle him like the queen you are.

“You can tell me what you did.” I tried to keep my voice calm, tried to sound diplomatic. I wasn’t sure either worked. “With the sights. First the Vilỳs, that attack last month, and now this. What did you do?”

I was getting angry again, and Ryland sensed it, his hold increasing. Meanwhile, Ilyan’s magic picked up, trying frantically to help.

“I did nothing. The sight was broken with the choices you made, dear child. It is one of the Zlomený now. I have explained this all before.” There it was, the same excuse he had used for months—my sight was broken. I was seeing things that could never be. My lack of ability had somehow infected
his
perfect sight. It was how he had gotten away with everything: lying about the Vilỳ attack, with every broken sight since. “Perhaps, if you cannot control your power, you are not fit to be a Drak.”

I lost it.

Lightning shot from my fingers as I jutted toward the old man, a scream breaking from my lips. Ryland clung to me as he pulled me back, the force of his action calming me as everyone took a step back, several ready to turn and run.

“The power is too much for you,” he continued, standing still before me as though nothing had happened. “I am worried of the risk you are putting us all in.”

“I am not—”

“Even your behavior is not fit for what you are. I stand by what I said before: ‘You are going to kill us all.’ You must learn to control yourself.”

“Sain!” I yelled, but he said nothing more before turning and walking away. More than half the people surrounding him followed him like sheep. The other half lagged behind for barely a moment before they, too, turned away.

I tried one last time to escape Ryland’s hold, but he held on, his hands clasped one over the other like he was going to wrestle me to the floor, something I was sure he had very seriously considered. He had done it plenty of times before, after all.

“What was all that about?” he asked, his voice tense, as everyone around us began to leave.

“What was
what
about?” I growled as I finally shook him off, both of us knowing Sain was long gone, and I wasn’t stupid enough to follow him.

“Oh, I dunno … you screaming that the barrier was down and then trying to attack your father—”

“Don’t call him that.” I turned to him, my teeth grinding together, hating the familiarity he gave me.

I hated the way he continually glanced at the chain around my neck. It was almost enough to make me want to take it off. Almost.

“The barrier
was
down,” I growled, folding my arms over my chest in a move that was all too familiar for him. It was taking everything in him not to smile, but I still saw his lip twitch. “I saw it.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t.” Ryland dragged his hand through his curls, his blue eyes growing dark for a minute.

I recoiled, the resemblance to his father making me uncomfortable. Luckily, Ryland didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s just…”

“What?”

“Is what Sain is saying true? About your magic? About you?”

I blinked, my jaw clenching. I hadn’t expected that.

“I wouldn’t believe all the garbage Sain spews,” I spat, taking a step in full expectation of continuing down the hallways as though nothing had happened.

“But he’s your father.”

“I told you not to call him that, Ry. You of all people should know how I feel about him.” I stopped dead, a small bubble of hurt forming in the pit of my stomach as I turned to him. His eyes had an odd mix of hard and sad. “You had a crappy father, too.”

“Sain is my friend—”

“Ryland!” Ryland’s rebuttal was interrupted by an overexcited voice, accompanied by the loud sound of steps from behind us as we were bombarded by Ryland’s protégé and full-time shadow. The eagerness of the child spread over his face in a smile that squished the kiss on his cheek together until it looked like a burn.

He was as excited as he always was. That was, until he caught sight of me, and his smile faded to something akin to horror, his youthful eyes wide, lanky limbs freezing in place. Then everything about him was more irritating than endearing.

I guessed gossip traveled faster than I thought.

Thanks,
Dad
.

“Hello, Jaromir,” I cooed, hoping it would take the edge off, but he took a step back, his eyes widening more if that was possible.

Jaromir looked between Ryland and me like a confused child trying to gauge which parent to side with and, instead, chose to stay still, an odd expression twisting his face as he tried to communicate nonverbally with Ry.

“I would pick who your friends are more carefully,” I whispered to Ry, my focus refusing to leave the kid, who was looking more scared by the minute.

“Interesting advice coming from you.”

My focus snapped to him, my eyes hard as he met me with a smile, the grin tentative as he pulled his hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re my friend, Jos,” he said with a sigh, his eyes looking to the chain that still hung around my neck before looking back out the window, back to the barrier that had caused all the problems in the first place. “I still choose for you to be, and I don’t think you are a bad choice.”

I stared at him, my tongue tied in a large knot, shock pressing against my chest in an oddly comforting weight.

Joclyn
, Ilyan pressed into my mind, his worry paramount.

I flinched a bit at the infiltration, my focus so heavy on Ry I had forgotten he was there for a minute.

“Right,” I finally said, knowing it was a lame retort. “I would still be careful.”

He smiled in that goofy way he always had, the look sending a shock up my spine that I hadn’t expected.

I gawked at him, expecting him to say something, expecting me to say something. However, I couldn’t find the words, so instead, I nodded my head.

Ryland’s smile stretched even farther as I walked past him and Jaromir with my eyes stubbornly pulled forward.

I could hear his voice as he spoke in quick Czech. I could hear the tiny squeak of Jaromir as he asked a question. Still, I walked, ignoring them, pretending I still didn’t understand the Czech, though I did. Three months living amongst native speakers, trapped in a Cathedral where that was the only language, had done me wonders.

At least now I could ask for more than the bathroom, although I would gladly choose to speak nothing except English any time I could.

Joclyn?
Ilyan’s voice was terrified, desperate, and I felt bad he was trapped there, unable to leave the rooftop while all of this was going on.
Are you okay?

Did you see?
I asked, already knowing the answer.

Yes. All of it.
His tone said it all.
I want you to come right to me.

I want nothing more.

For the first time in the last few minutes, I realized I was fighting back tears, anger, and adrenaline, everything seeping away into an emotional drainage that was trying to take over.

His magic filled me in a frantic attempt to comfort me as my head spun again. The hallway seemed to tilt head-over-heels as my vision shifted, my magic coming to life.

In desperation, I stretched my arm to the wall, grasping for some kind of support, for some kind of reality before my magic pulled me into a sight, before the world around me sunk to black.

Precognition blazed through me in a powerful torrent, pulling me right into the dark, derelict streets of Prague, the streets I had been in a million times.

I ran through them as I had in so many other sights, and like in a million other sights, I knew what was coming.

The cloaked man.

He flashed before me, running from street to street as I tried to follow, as I waited for him to turn and remove the hood as he always did. This time, he kept running.

My heart beat in fear and excitement, my magic a heavy weight on my chest.

One more turn, one more flash of the tail of his cloak.

I turned with him, following him. In place of the same scene I usually faced, there was a lone man, someone I recognized all too well.

Edmund.

My heart accelerated to a pace that vibrated through me, my entire body tensing in fear. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t escape the sight. I stood, staring at him where he was in the middle of the street with Ovailia by his side, Sain huddled off to the side like a wounded kitten, and a small child I had never seen before standing before him.

My sight flashed as I watched, red and black skittering over my vision before the street came back into view, my heart plummeting at the way the child fidgeted, the way she tried to move away, but something held her in place; something was keeping her there. She twitched and tried to run, but she couldn’t move. Her sobs echoed, the pained sounds increasing my fear.

The closer the sight took me, the more in focus she became. She was no older than five; a long, tattered nightgown hung over her emaciated frame, dirty brown hair falling past her waist. Blood dripped from her fingers in a slow rhythm then fell into pools of carmine that covered her feet, sprinkling over her bare calves like a Jackson Pollock painting.

She turned to me slowly, and the red of the blood splattered down the front of her nightgown, seeping from the ragged gash in her throat, her eyes crying tears of the same color.

“Auntie,” she whispered, and I recoiled, the alarm in my sight increasing. “You’ve got to stop him. He has it. He’s going to hurt her.”