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

toward the darkened street where the man had landed, expecting to see his twisted, contorted shape, but nothing was there. There was merely the darkening pitch of the street, the damp road, and the hint of a bloodstain reflecting what little light was left from the day.
    “What in the …?” My magic flared as my fear did, power stretching from me as I searched for the man I had attacked, searched for the somewhat familiar magical footprint.
    He couldn’t have gone far.
    “So, you!” Wyn’s voice boomed from behind me. “You wanna come back with me? I have some really great questions for ya.”
    “Wyn?” I asked as I whipped around, nervous panic filling me as my magic flared. The disappearance of the man’s magical sign ignited into panic as it reemerged, this time right behind me.
    It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing was not, in fact, reality, but the whispers of a future.
    “Wyn!” I screamed as the repeated shadow of the present flashed after its apparition, the man’s magic already flaring and ready for attack.
    She reacted to my scream, dodging out of the way as her own ability warned her of what was coming. The sudden movement freed her prisoner from his cage, and the man fell as another ribbon of color sped toward Wyn, intent on attack.
    “I told you I would kill you!” the Trpaslík screamed as he attacked again. Mine came a second behind, hitting him square in the chest as Wyn’s attack intersected in a weird array, the hole in her hand sending the color wide.
    The two beams of color converged into one, the brilliant light seeping into his skin like an infection. It swept over him, sending him to the ground in a twitching heap.
    Wyn once again captured her prisoner, her cage stronger as the flames licked around him, the heat and pressure a brilliance in the alley.
    Knowing she could handle herself, I stepped toward the now lifeless man who was misshapen on the ground, his eyes wide and vacant as he stared into nothing, his whole body quivering as our magic devoured him. I guess that was what happened when you met both Wyn and me—a quick death.
    “We really need to be more careful,” I said to myself, unable to look away from the flesh below me that was beginning to bubble and boil.
    “He didn’t explode,” Wyn stated, obviously absentminded as she restrained her prisoner.
    “Yet.” I said the word to myself, pulling away from the haunting way the Trpaslíks body moved.
    “ Now are you going to talk to me?” Wyn snapped, a revelry in the attack still winding inside her. I guessed she really was winning. An attack and a capture.
    I laughed to myself, turning back to Wyn and her prisoner.
    The Trpaslíks face was turned up in a wicked smile as he met her dead-on.
    “You say talk like I have another option,” the Trpaslík mocked, the jeering I had expected from earlier clear and vibrant. “I would rather talk than go back to what that blasted man has done.” The man’s obstinance faded to something closer to disgust, a disappointment I never thought I would see on a Trpaslík coloring him.
    “What blasted man?” I asked, the snippet of conversation from before pushing against my heart. My magic flared so powerfully I was surprised it didn’t pull me into sight.
    Joclyn? Ilyan asked in obvious concern.
    I ignored him. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t think beyond the pieces that were slowly pulling together in my head.
    The Trpaslík smiled from behind the fire, his eyes focused on me, the sneer returning with a dangerous light. “You know?” he queried to himself, “I think I’ll keep it all: the answers, the truth, and most of all … my freedom from the hell Sain has created.”
    With that, he walked into Wyn’s cage, destroying his own life before we had the chance to stop him. Wyn screamed in disbelief, and my jaw went slack in confusion, not wanting to believe the possibilities that had made themselves clear.

RYLAND

5
    “ I heard them over there , Míra!”