Crown of Cinders (Imdalind Series Book 7) by Rebecca Ethington Page A

mysterious job one that I knew at once we needed to stop, it was what she had done that was the real danger.
    It was what it meant that made her dangerous.
    “The hollow Štít … It’s not hollow because he took it away. It’s hollow because there is nothing on the other side.” I spoke to myself, the same realization clear on Risha’s face as her chest heaved in panic.
    “What are you talking about?” Míra asked from beside us, obviously confused. “My Štít isn’t hollow. It’s cursed.”
    I could see how she would think that, but it didn’t fit.
    We ignored her, our eyes wide as things fell into place.
    “He would have to be …”
    Dead.
    I put the word into place in silence, the reality not one Míra should know. Not yet. Not with whatever certain death and expectation she was facing. She was such a loose wire that I didn’t want to give her hope, only to have her erupt. At the same time, I didn’t want to leave her in the dark for long.
    If this were true, it could be the difference between her loyalties, from pulling her away from whatever job she had to do.
    “Get them back to the hall. Don’t take your eyes off them. I need to talk to Ilyan. I’ll be back,” I said to Risha, not waiting for her nod of understanding before I took off into the air, my magic lifting me higher as I soared away from them and toward the main courtyard.
    The whining and bickering hordes Ilyan had been trapped in for days would have to wait. I needed to find him.

JOCLYN

6
    “ N ever do that again !” Wyn’s voice was a snap in my ear, accentuated by the not so playful swap against my backside as she fell to her knees, gasping and heaving in a desperate attempt to catch air.
    “Ryland said the same thing two weeks ago.” I laughed, magic pulling me toward Ilyan, desperate to be near him now that we were back in the cathedral.
    “I can see why,” Wyn gasped. “That was awful. No wonder no one other than you and Ilyan has even tried that. I mean, do you have a death wish?”
    “No death wish, just not a lot of time.”
    As I pulled her back to her feet, she gasped, her eyes wide in obvious panic that I was about to do it again.
    “Take a chill, Wyn. I’m not going to do it again. And it was a stutter, not a colonoscopy.”
    “A what? Is that some kind of party mortals have? Because it sounds awful.”
    “Never mind.” This time, I did roll my eyes as I dragged her behind me. We weaved past the illuminated tents that littered the courtyard. The canvas domes glowed in the darkness in glittering jewel tones of red, blue, yellow and green.
    It was magical if you could ignore the dark shapes that wandered amongst them, darting around the camp in shadows, whispering in groups, and cowering in the dark like some demon was ready to strike.
    “This way.” Gripping Wyn’s gloved hand, I pulled her after me, letting the strong tug of Ilyan’s magic guide me. “He’s this way.”
    “Lead the way, Your Majesty,” Wyn taunted. “In a nice, gentle walk if you please.”
    Ignoring her, I pulled her behind me, darting around a large, red dome. The familiar red light emanated from it until it intersected with the blue tent next door, casting ribbons of blue and red and purple around us like a rainbow.
    The beauty was lost, however, as I took one more step and the whispers hit against my chest like the sharp point of a nail, the lingering shadows staring at me unabashedly, hands held over mouths as they hissed and speculated on realities they could never understand. Some didn’t even bother to hide their questions or comments. They let them run freely, loudly, and aggressively. The words bounced off the canvas and alerted everyone to my very presence. Anyone who had already retired to their tents became attentive, emerging from the canvas at the prospect of drama.
    “I don’t know why he chose her.”
    “She probably broke the original prophecy, too. Broke them all. Now we don’t know …”
    “You saw all that