Ashes of Chaos (Legacy of the Nine Realms #2) - Amelia Hutchins Page 0,11
lips twisting into a wicked grin. Ilsa’s mouth pulled back into a tight snarl that vibrated from her with displeasure.
“Explain to me what happened, you idiot!” she screeched, her hands balling into fists as her body slithered, turning to face the group of witches who had failed her.
I buffed my nails on my skirt, watching as Kalan and her group tensed from the force of Ilsa’s full attention directed at them. Magic suddenly filled the room, a sign that more bodies were added to the grotesque grid that stretched all around the Palace of Magic. Steeling against another shiver, I watched as the blackening ooze of putrid magic pulsed through the witch’s veins.
“We added the dark magic, just as you instructed, Mistress. I’d just finished the last of the spell when King Karnavious entered the area, moving through it, seemingly oblivious to our presence. I grabbed his wrist, and the moment I did, another witch sent her magic rushing through us with what I assumed to be a warning that he wasn’t to be touched. It would have ended there, but her magic unraveled the grid’s power, and something happened to the souls.”
Ilsa tipped her head, turning to look over her shoulder as power pulsed faster and harder through the room. Anger and pain rose in my throat, and I forced it down with a veneer, giving nothing away that would show the fear and trepidation that arose. The anxiety of what was to come wrapped around my heart, tightening my throat with emotion.
“You said she took the power of the grid, easily? You allowed her to cast without guarding the grid?” she snapped, her spittle spraying over Kalan’s face.
“It was unlike anything we’d ever felt. I figured it was more important to return to you and report back with what we had found first and foremost.”
“You thought wrong,” Ilsa growled. Her hands unclenched as she stepped aside, moving back to the window that overlooked the grid.
“We have failed you, Mistress,” Kalan whispered, her obsidian eyes narrowing to slits as Ilsa turned toward the shadows once more, tilting her head as if she could hear something that none of the rest of us could. “We will move to attack another town and finish the grid.”
“No, you will not.”
Dark magic rushed through the room, causing nausea to swirl within me. My body clenched, and I fought to keep from spewing up what little food had been given to me as one of Ilsa’s disciples. My attention moved to the witches, noting the eerie, utter silence that filled the air as panic and disbelief crossed Kalan’s expression.
Kalan’s hands lifted before her, and her mouth opened as blood expelled from her lungs. My body trembled with the atrocity of horrors unfolding before me. Hands became ashes, black lines spread through them as flesh turned to flecks of embers that flowed through the room. Ilsa opened the window, moments before Kalan’s fiery parts slid past us to escape upon the wind.
One witch from Kalan’s group howled, her body a mass of glowing lines that looked as if she’d drunk lava, and it was escaping through her veins.
A witch beside me screamed, her fear overriding her need to survive. Everyone in line stepped back to reveal the guilty party in our ranks. The witch who’d shown her fear, jerked forward by invisible hands, her body making odd scrunching noises before it dropped to the floor, ripped apart as her deafening scream echoed in my ears.
I didn’t move or even blink as Ilsa watched us from her vantage point beside the window. My fingers remained flat at my sides, showing no reaction. No emotion whispered through me, or any outward sign of the screaming echoing through my head as the body before me continued to bend until only the crunching of broken bones sounded. The screams died away, and then Ilsa moved, slowly walking to stand directly in front of me as the scent of burning, rotted flesh singed my nose.
“Fearless, and yet so beautiful,” she whispered.
Blackened fingertips touched my chin, forcing my heart to thunder in my chest. I held it together, praying for my heart to slow to a steady beat. I thought of the meadows where I’d once played with my sisters.
We’d spent hours on our backs, gazing up at the sky, guessing the shapes that each of us could find within the puffy clouds that filled the blue skies. The rapid beating tapered off, slowly returning to a steady beat as Ilsa’s