Dawn of Ash (20 page)

Leave it to Jos. When I said, “Don’t hold back, but don’t kill me, either,” she took me at face value. It was something I was glad of. We could match each other attack for attack, and that was a first for both of us, really.

I guessed we could always spar with Ilyan. I knew Jos did. However, I liked breaking rules, and he liked being boring.

Now, if I could stop worrying about Thom and whether he was still breathing or not or if that new boil that had appeared on his neck this morning had grown…

Ugh.

There I went again.

I needed to focus.

Obviously.

Besides, we both needed the escape, and this was better than the mass murder I had resorted to after Rosaline’s death.

I needed an escape from Thom; Jos, an escape from … well, everything: her little breakdown from a few days ago and the rumors that had magically multiplied since then.

It was upsetting.

Whatever Sain was doing was really starting to piss me off. It was a good thing I hadn’t run into him. Even though I knew Ilyan had already ripped into him, there was nothing stopping me from doing the same.

Or torturing him … That would probably be a good release, too.

After all, thanks to Sain, everyone acted like Joclyn was broken. Everyone treated her like she was somehow too weak to do anything. That wasn’t the case, however. Not really. At least, not the way I saw it.

She was actually
too
powerful. Her magic had grown too much, and she was having a hard time controlling it.

It was something I knew all too well. Mostly because I had experienced it.

In the beginning, controlling the fire magic was scary. I would blow things up. Heck, I had even blown myself up a few times. It was undoubtedly why Ilyan was so insistent I glue myself to her, maybe help her try to figure out what the heck was going on.

It was probably good she was my best friend, or I would be really bored of her by now.

Despite crazy-powerful magic and out of control sights or renegade rabbits or whatever she was facing, controlling it
was
possible. It took time and figuring out your own set of rules to make it work.

It was like 90s grunge—you had to find a way to make the loud, confusing mess work for you.

Or you could just not listen to it.

Whatever worked for you.

She would figure it out. In the meantime, all I could really do was keep telling her odd stories and be some kind of demented cheerleader.

No one better hand me pom-poms, though.

“If you keep messing up like that, I
will
get you,” Jos said, a massive smile plastered across her face.

“If you keep taunting me, you
will
pay.” My smile was as big as hers, but not for the reason she thought. I spoke calmly, plainly, deterring her from the fact that a powerful attack was already heading toward her, slithering through the earth, just under the old stonework of the cathedral floor.

I smiled wider, the nefarious grin spreading over my teeth as I fought the need to laugh. It was too much, especially when her eyes narrowed in sudden realization.

She noticed too late, however. The magic shot into her before she could act, leaving her screeching in pain, jumping around like her shoes were on fire.

I couldn’t help laughing, joy winding through me as I watched her hop around like a little bean.

“No fair!” she yelled as she pranced, her retaliation attack coming seconds later.

The ability, while powerful, was so poorly planned all I had to do was sidestep, my laugh echoing louder against the old, stone walls.

“Nice try.”

The bright yellow streak burst into a firework of green and gold, glitter splattering against the barrier with a crash, leaving both of us staring at it in disbelief—me, laughing maniacally; her, on the border between humor and frustration.

“Stop doing that! Let me get you!” Joclyn screeched with a stomp of her foot, her movements making it clear she was already lining up her next attack.

“Ha!” I laughed loudly, purposefully pushing her buttons. “You would have to play a lot harder than that for a flimsy attack to work, Jos. I am a master assassin, after all.”

“Oh! Is that what you are calling yourself?” she prodded, her voice seeping with humor and malice, the two emotions winding together in warning as she moved around me. Her steps were slow and calculated as I matched her step for step. “I thought more like, ‘poor, little, cursed child’ was a better fit. I mean … Your attacks are a little weak!”

With one step, her magic exploded toward me in a wall of purple flames, dancing with the black of death I recognized all too well.

Jumping with one swift movement, I countered, my own stream of ability spreading over the wall with a crash, beating against my ears painfully.

Her wall shimmered for a second before it exploded into whips of smoke, long tendrils of green and grey drifting toward the ceiling as what she had hoped would end me faded into oblivion, leaving me staring at a slack-jawed mongrel again.

“Come on, Jos,” I teased. “I’ve watched enough TV to know better. You can’t play the old ‘talk and distract’ thing on me. This isn’t a Saturday morning cartoon.”

“It was worth a shot, Wyn,” she admitted, her smile growing.

“So is polio.”

A smile leaked out, a wide grin spreading over my face like syrup: slow and sticky. The mischievousness of the look was not lost on Joclyn, who laughed knowingly then shot up into the air like a bullet, wind pulling her up like a carnival ride, the brilliant gold ribbon of her bonding trailing behind her.

With a laugh, I followed suit, the wind moving around me before I soared over the smooth, marbled floor. Where Joclyn had chosen to jump, to rocket through the buttresses and stained glass windows of the magnificent cathedral, I went low. My body was a straight arrow as I sped inches above the ancient floor, eyes scanning over the surface as I watched through the red-tinted light for the shadow of a bird I was going to ground.

“Kill the Wendy-Bird!” I screamed as her body came into sight, my own spinning over so fast I could feel the heat of my magic as it escaped from me, the string of flames flying from my hands before I had even faced her, before she could even notice it. She didn’t even have a chance to dodge.

One line of fire. One flying best friend.

Or so I expected.

Except, the attack exploded against the barrier instead of her. Light and sparks fell like a million shooting stars, the same as hers had done. It could have been beautiful if I didn’t already know what was coming, if I didn’t know I was being stalked.

My heart thundered painfully in my chest, everything tensing in expectation as I waited for the attack, certain this time I wouldn’t be able to escape.

“No fair!” I growled into the space, certain she had shielded herself. “A shield
and
a stutter. Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

No answer.

My chest tightened in agitated fear as the minutes ticked by while I looked around me, spinning on the spot like a confused top. A confused top that was having unnecessarily large heart palpitations.

I tried to feel her magic, but nothing was there.

She wasn’t there.

“Nice try, Wyn.”

I moved the second I heard her, but I wasn’t fast enough. An attack slammed into my gut, heat and force moving through me as I soared through the air like a puppet, arms and legs flailing in a frenzied attempt to gain control of them before the floor found me. It was no use. With a dull thud and a loud scream, I intercepted with the hard floor, my body mush against stone.

I grunted at the painful ripple that moved over me, grateful it had dislodged whatever control Joclyn had locked inside me.

“Is that the best you can do?” I yelled with a laugh, knowing it was foolhardy yet not really caring. At this point, the lone weapon I had was snark. I had better use it, considering I could hardly see straight. My body was barely more stable than a puppy as I attempted to find my feet, my Chuck Taylors squeaking loudly in the open space.

I hadn’t even stood before sparks of colors and sharp, conjured knives fanned toward me with a bang like a cannon.

Falling back to the ground in a crouch, I held my arms up in a shield, magic spreading from my skin in a wide bubble that wrapped around me in a sheath of grey. In my head, it was a shield so powerful it should have blocked anything. It would have if I hadn’t been in such a rush to get it up. In reality, it was barely strong enough to deflect her attacks.

I could feel the tiny pokes of strain as the knives hit the shield before falling to the floor with a clang. The heat of her magic seeped through the thin barrier, oozing into me like a painful gas I already knew I didn’t want to feel the full force of.

I waited, desperate for her attacks to stop before the shield gave out. I shouldn’t have expected her to give up that easily. As though I was trapped in the middle of a war, the attacks increased, explosions and knives and who knew what else coming at me.

I was vulnerable, crouched down like this with the shield up, and she knew it. Forget that silly rock and its dumb hard place. That didn’t even make sense. There was nothing worse than a weak shield and a powerful best friend with no shame.

I was doomed.

“Give up yet?” she shouted in a lull of attacks, her voice heavy and playful and pulling at me in all the wrong ways. “Or are you still pretending to be a master assassin?”

“Ha! I’ll never surrender!”

Darn me and my stubbornness. I could kill myself for getting into the position, and if this had been a real fight, it would have killed me. Of course, if this had been a real fight, I would have killed her by now.

Either way, it was a stupid move, like eating cheese out of a can.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” she taunted, the laugh poorly concealed in her voice.

I groaned loudly enough for her to hear, mentally kicking myself. “No fair, Joclyn.”

“Come and face your reward, Wynifred!” It was a taunt, a loud one, and I groaned louder. I guessed I deserved the full name. I had started it in any case.

I would have to be grateful she didn’t know my middle name.

“You can’t call this…”

Mommy?

I froze with my mouth open, ice rippling through me, the game and the battle and the barrier all but forgotten. It was all gone in one haunting word that rang loud and clear through my mind.

I couldn’t breathe. I could barely see straight through the panic. It was
her
voice, the same pleading that had haunted me for months, the same gut-wrenching heartbreak that ran through me. You would think I would have managed it better after so long, that I would have gotten used to it.

But I didn’t think there was a way to.

Not with this.

Mommy? Where are you?

“Rosaline.” It was a whisper, but I regretted saying it instantly. It was as though the shard of blade in my pocket could hear me. No, as if
she
could hear me, as if she could react to me.

“What did you say? Did you say you give up?” Jos asked playfully, her voice sounding like it was a million miles away.

Everything was warm, too warm. Heat was radiating from the tiny shard of souls and blood that I kept concealed, the voice coming again, making me flinch.

Mommy? Where are you?

“Wyn?” Joclyn’s voice came simultaneously with hers, but I wasn’t even convinced I heard it. I wasn’t even convinced anything existed behind the way everything twisted inside of me.
Behind this past I was trapped in.

Mommy?

My hands ground against the floor as I stared at it while it shifted in and out of focus. I tried to concentrate on anything that would pull me out of this quickly descending spiral, but nothing was working.

I needed to get out of there before I did something stupid.

“Are you okay, Wyn?” The humor was gone from Joclyn’s voice.

I flinched, a fear I couldn’t quite place taking over.

“Are you crying?”

Was I crying? I couldn’t focus on anything beyond her voice, beyond the memories.

Mommy! Save me!

“No!” I snapped, uncertain if it was to Rosy or Jos.

“You better not be messin’ with me … I’m not going to fall for it, Wyn.” She was worried; I could tell. However, it didn’t stop the way my magic had begun to bubble, the way the fear was ripping through me in painful waves of heaviness and heat. “Wyn?”

Mommy?
She was crying, too.
Please.

I needed to go.

I didn’t care how; I needed to go.

Fingers digging into the stone, back arched, breathing ragged in my ears, I felt my magic grow, felt the heat of it, felt the desperation taking over. A small voice in the back of my head screamed at me that the magic was too strong. If only it was louder … if only I cared…

In a burst of fire, my magic spread over the floor so fast I wasn’t sure Joclyn could avoid it even if she was paying close attention. I felt the stones. I felt the raw power of the fire magic move into them, heating them as the floor shifted underneath her, sending her tumbling to the ground.

I heard Rosaline scream in my head, heard Joclyn yell in panicked fear, but I couldn’t think. I was stuck in a cage with the whimpers and cries of my child, and I forgot what I was doing.

Suddenly, it was just another job.

It was just another body to claim.

Another beating heart to deliver to my master.

Heart thundering in eagerness, I burst from the shield that had become a prison, my hand raised in preparation for attack, turning to face the woman I had attacked so ruthlessly in one swift motion, the floor beneath her shifting as it swallowed her whole.

“Wyn!” Her voice was a scream of terror that ran through me with a trembling fear that brought a flood of everything right back to me.

No!

No body, no war, no blood.

The game.

It was just a game.

“No!” I yelled as the voice left, the frightening reality implanting itself within me. “No,” I said again, my magic withdrawing back into me in one swift pull.