by Isla Frost
Bryn’s prowess with fire made my own magic practice with the snails even more laughable, but I persisted anyway.
And it was on my sixth day of doing this when the population was wearing thin that I learned something very interesting about my wildcard gift.
Worried about running out of snail victims, I tried to finesse my skills to an even greater extent and take just a fraction of the life force from one snail. To my shock, it worked. And further, the snail I’d pinched that smidgen of life force from continued oozing itself around Glenn and Glennys’s rosebush, munching as it went.
Hardly able to believe it, I marked the snail with indigo ink, much to my friends’ amusement. And the next morning it was not only alive, but its life force was as bright as the rest of them again.
“Don’t you get it?” I demanded of Bryn and Ameline, whom I’d dragged out before breakfast to check on my snail friend. “This means I can take and use life force and magic without killing the creature I steal it from. Without even causing it any lasting harm.”
My friends stopped teasing me about my snail experimentation after that.
Mostly.
Chapter Thirty
Snail practice aside, the attempts on my life didn’t stop after the shower incident. One day as I stood at the arena’s edge to watch the team inside, a freak gust of wind nearly sent me tumbling over the sheer drop to the unforgiving ground below. Only Lirielle’s lightning-fast reflexes, reaching out to grab my belt, prevented it from working.
Another day during breakfast, a chunk of bread lodged in my airway and refused to move no matter how I coughed or spluttered. Bryn saved me that time by setting fire to the table Ellbereth and her friends were seated around, and suddenly the bread came up just fine.
On a third occasion, we were passing through one of the grand chambers when the large chandelier that graced its lofty ceiling smashed to the floor. Millicent reacted faster than we did, yanking the rug we were walking on and us with it out of harm’s way.
It was fortunate Ellbereth didn’t want my death linked back to her because it placed far more constraints on her than we could have. She stuck to things that might be construed as accidents in public, and we took special care whenever we were away from the other students.
Gus’s ability to cut through magic saved my butt on more than one occasion. For all that his milk-and-honey obsession was annoying, I was more grateful than ever he was immune to rust because I insisted on having him within easy reach whenever I showered.
Our dorm room became a refuge for us all, though even there I kept Gus near.
And so my days became an exhausting cycle of learning about my magic and trying not to die.
In addition to classes and arena trials of course.
It was a mixture of luck, my sword, and the loyalty of my friends (because somewhere over the past weeks, I had uneasily come to count Theus and Lirielle among that number) that I was still alive. And I was beginning to realize that sooner or later that luck would turn on me.
Each day, I was growing less and less confident that I would survive long enough to pit my wildcard gift against the Malus.
But it was during the night that I should’ve been afraid.
Flashing lights roused me from sleep. But before I could so much as open my eyes, my mattress—or to be more precise, Millicent—flung me across the room.
Which turned out to be just as well because two paralyzing bloodjewel beetles flew through a hole in the ceiling directly above my bed. A hole that hadn’t been there when I’d fallen asleep.
I scrambled for my sword, shouting a warning to Bryn and Ameline.
But I was too slow on both fronts.
The nearest beetle stabbed me in the chest, and my limbs went dead, toppling me to the floor on top of the sword I’d been trying to grab. My neck still worked, and I craned it in time to see the second beetle fell Ameline in a similar fashion. Except she hadn’t made it all the way out of bed yet, so at least her landing was soft.
I remembered from the arena that we could still use our magic despite the paralysis, but that did me zero favors since the only borrowed magic ability I had in my system was snail slime. A quick check confirmed there was nothing conveniently bleeding in our vicinity.
Ameline’s communication magic wasn’t going to help either. Griff wasn’t even in the dorm room because with his plumage and fur grown in to protect him from the cold, he’d taken to going on late-night jaunts when the mood struck him.
And our attackers weren’t done yet.
I rolled my head the other way to see that four walkers had dropped through the hole in the seconds it had taken to neutralize Ameline and me. My blood ran cold.
Ellbereth and some of her minions. And I was helpless. Magnificent sword or no.
Gus, pressed beneath my unresponsive limbs, for once did not contradict me.
But Bryn wasn’t done yet either. She welcomed the intruders with a barrage of fireballs. Unfortunately the overly organized walkers were prepared for this contingency, sporting magical shields that flickered but did not fall under the ferocious attack.
That didn’t stop Bryn from trying. The fiery assault intensified until there was so much fire in the air it seemed impossible that the entire room hadn’t caught alight. Yet Ameline, Millicent, and I were all unscathed, and I still had enough oxygen to breathe. It was freaking impressive.
A spot on my chest heated, and I realized Bryn was simultaneously trying to burn the beetle pin. But while the fabric beneath it began to smoke, the bloodjewel itself did not alter. Nor did my inability to move.
Damn.
No matter how gifted she was with fire, Bryn didn’t stand a chance against the four powerful and prepared walkers. I watched uselessly as they pushed forward, protected by their magic shield. When they drew nearer to Bryn and she failed to draw her axe or dodge away, I realized they must be physically restraining her with magic too.
One of the walkers hit her on the head. Hard. And the fires flickered out.
Hell’s hot sulfurous breath. If they’d done her any permanent damage—
They released their magical hold and Bryn fell to the floor.
Then they came for me.
I was certain I was about to die. Instead, they gagged me with something that tasted of mint and dirt and then the same stupid black bag they’d used before was shoved over my head.
Were they going to attempt the ritual again?
If so, there would be no escape. Not this time. Even if animals happened to fight nearby, allowing me to draw on their life force without Ameline orchestrating it, paralyzed as I was, my magic would do little good.
I could rally no resistance, could do nothing but flop limply about, when they picked me up. I cursed them through my gag, but it came out too muffled to offer any satisfaction. All I could do was pray they would leave my friends alive.
Unseen hands hoisted me over a shoulder, and then I was lifted and passed to another set of hands that hauled me through the hole in the ceiling.
No one spoke as they carried me. I knew from the change of temperature and the chill breeze against my skin that we had traveled outside.
Unable to move more than my head, unable to shout through the gag, unable to see a damn thing, all I could do was imagine how my life would end.
My eyes stung, but I refused to give them the gratification of seeing any tears. If they bothered to remove the bag over my head before they killed me. Perhaps I wouldn’t even see it coming.
And then the person whose shoulder I was riding on shifted their gait. Like they were walking down a series of steps. But it couldn’t have been the underground room in the forest. We hadn’t traveled far enough for that. So—
I was lowered to the ground with a gentleness that seemed incongruent when they were about to kill me, and then the bag around my head was removed.
Ellbereth’s pale face loomed in the dark. “I’m sorry it has to end this way.” The apology seemed as genuine as it cou
ld be under the circumstances. Though now I knew her mother was a politician, I was more suspicious of her apparent sincerity. “If only you’d cooperated and let us cleanse you of the evil magic. I didn’t want to… Well, I suppose there’s no point lamenting over what might have been.”
She was remarkably civil for a murderer.
“You’re in the arena,” she told me as her minions carried over two of the giant weapons from the wall.
Really? This was how it was all going to end? Chopped in half by a rusted battle-axe or great sword?
But Ellbereth had not been “civil” enough to remove my gag, so I couldn’t voice my questions aloud. Not understandably anyway.
To my surprise, the walkers laid the weapons across my torso, careful to avoid dislodging the beetle. The weight was cold and uncomfortably heavy on my paralyzed body.
But still better than being cleaved in two, I supposed. My brain scrambled to make sense of the odd gesture.
“We’re going to leave, and then the lake is going to refill. I’ve heard drowning isn’t a pleasant death. But at least it will be over quickly. And this way everyone—well, everyone that matters—will believe it was an accident.”
Ellbereth paused, a smile crooking her lips.
“Silly of you to go swimming alone in the middle of the night.”
She turned to her companions. “Let’s go. We’ll put the blood jewels and weapons back when it’s done.”
And then she and her minions disappeared into the darkness, leaving me to drown.
Chapter Thirty-One
Frigid water seeped up from the soil beneath me, dampening the back of my paralyzed body and unbound hair. I allowed a few tears to fall then. Curse Ellbereth and her cronies, this wasn’t how I was supposed to die. So uselessly. Futilely. Fruitlessly.
But what the hell could I do? The bloodjewel beetle was impossible to reach with my teeth, and the heavy weapons pressing me to the sand would ensure I had no hope of floating.
Think, Nova. Think!
I couldn’t move. I checked and failed once again to find any convenient life forces to steal from. And my only current magical ability was to ooze snail slime.
The water rose, trickling into my ears, and the world went quiet.
But I realized then that the snail slime might not be so useless after all.
I concentrated on the spot where the bloodjewel pin stabbed into my chest and magically conjured up some slippery, goopy, viscous slime to ooze from my skin. The pin shifted a fraction.
The water was rising faster now, gaining momentum. I sucked down one final breath.
The lake covered my mouth and spilled up my nostrils.
I oozed more slime. Pouring every desperate ounce of energy toward it. And the pin slipped a little more. The rising water helped rather than hampered in this respect at least, making the pin lighter, easier to shift.
It also chilled my body, my blood, my unresponsive limbs.
My world grew darker as more and more inches of water blocked out the stars above. But I was so close now. If I could just dislodge the pin, I could swim to the surface and drag in as much oxygen as my body wanted.
Hell, I could possibly just stand up.
But whether an inch or a mile, the distance to the surface made no difference to my aching lungs. Both would prove lethal. I’d been holding my breath, willing my body to subtract as much oxygen from that single, final lungful as it could, but instinct was demanding I release it. Take a fresh breath. Now.
A trickle of bubbles escaped my lips before I clamped them shut again.
I was running low on slime-oozing ability. It had taken the partial life force of a lot of snails to give me that much, but if I’d realized it might make the difference over whether I lived or died, I would’ve taken more. Too late now. I scraped the measly dregs of the magic together for one last push and prayed it would be enough.
I could no longer see the beetle pin in the growing darkness, but I felt it move. A tingling sensation surged through my limbs, and then, thank the heavens, they responded at last to my brain’s frantic commands.
I shoved the heavy weapons aside and launched myself off the bottom of the lake. Oxygen, here I come!
The lake had risen higher than I’d thought—or maybe my body was weaker than I realized—but the lightening gloom assured me I was nearing the surface. I released another stream of bubbles from my cramping lungs and kicked my heavy legs. Soon, any moment, I would crest the top of the water and suck down a heavenly breath of fresh air. My eyes were locked on the increasingly visible stars in promise.
Then the stars disappeared. Obscured by the crystalline fragments of water beginning to freeze. Quickly transforming into the pure white of solid ice.
My hands hit the frozen wall, instinctively recoiling from the stinging cold. But I forced them to pound at it, claw at it with everything I had left.
The ice was unyielding. Merciless.
Even fueled by adrenaline and desperation, my body was growing sluggish. Slow to respond to my commands. There might have been irony in there somewhere.
I let myself sink, just a little. Searching for a gap in the ever-expanding ice. There!
I swam for it. My strokes clumsy as my heavy, numb, oxygen-starved limbs struggled to obey. But even before I reached that gap, that promise of air, of life, the ice closed over.
The last of my breath rushed from my lungs in a mixture of fear and frustration. Of failure. Of defeat.
Breathe my body told me. Demanded. But I kept my lips clamped tight, knowing that way offered no relief.
No relief except death.
My lungs empty and my limbs once again unresponsive, I sank. Down. Away from the ice.
And I thought of lovely and loyal Ameline paralyzed in her bed, unaware I was about to break our childhood promise. Of Bryn lying where she’d fallen, her daring defeated and fire quenched. I even thought of Lirielle’s flashing blades and faraway daydreams. Of Theus’s deep forest-green eyes I’d believed too dangerous to venture into. And then I thought of my family. Mila’s chubby cheeks that only became more so when she smiled. Reuben’s half-hearted scowl failing to conceal his tender heart. My mother’s hardworking hands and the way she softened when Mila or Reuben crawled into her lap. My father’s bear hugs that had always made me feel safe.
Breathe my body demanded again. My vision was spotted with black. My head was dizzy, muddled, and my thoughts slipped from me until it was empty of all but dark, icy sludge.
I gave in to instinct.
Water flooded up my nose and down my lungs. It burned. Stinging with the fury of a hornets’ nest. A fury I was no longer able to muster.
Tears of pain leaked from my eyes. Then my world turned truly black, and my mind dissolved into the darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Two
My body hurt too much not to be alive.
My torso spasmed as I heaved up water. Then almost drowned on it again until someone rolled me over. On my side, the water had somewhere else to go, and I retched up more of it. A lot more of it.
My throat, lungs, nasal passages, and stomach burned like I’d downed liquid fire instead of simple lake water.
Note to self, don’t do that again.
More spasms wracked my body until the coughing and retching no longer brought up any liquid. Then I turned my attention to breathing, sucking down lungful after lungful of delicious air. It made the burning worse, but I didn’t care.
My head pounded and my entire body felt like a giant had picked me up and wrung me out like a dishcloth.
But I was alive. Somehow.
How?
I forced my eyes to open, even though the feeble starlight hurt them too.
Theus was kneeling over me. His handsome face was pinched with worry, but that changed when he spotted me looking back at him.
“Thank the stars,” he breathed. And the glad warmth that suffused his face rendered me mute.
Perhaps in contrast to that warmth, or perhaps b
ecause my brain was finally getting the air it needed to function, I began to shiver violently. We were in the last clutches of winter, and I was soaked head to toe in icy water. No wonder I was freezing. But I still wanted to know how I was even alive to feel so miserable.
“How?” I managed to croak through my numb lips and burning throat.
Theus frowned at my shuddering, and the air around me heated, causing my wet clothes and hair to steam.
“Ameline’s griffin friend fetched me,” he said. “Millicent let him in to harass me in the middle of the night, so I knew something must be urgently wrong. He led me to the lake. I saw the ice and knew it wasn’t cold enough for it to have formed naturally, but I couldn’t see past it. So I started the lake emptying and melted as much of the ice as I could while it drained. Then I saw you. At the bottom. Lifeless.”
He swallowed. Like the memory or the retelling of it was difficult. Then he tentatively wiped a tangle of wet, steaming hair out of my face.
I hadn’t even noticed it was annoying me until he shifted it. Had it been annoying him too? Or—
“I’m going to do some basic healing on you now, is that okay? I’m nowhere near as good as Healer Invermoore, but I understand it’s not safe for you to visit the infirmary.”
Lungful after lungful of blessed air and the heat provided by Theus were doing me good, and I struggled to sit up, forcing my exhausted abdomen to hold me upright.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
I wasn’t. Not really. My body would heal well enough if I gave it time. I was less sure about my mind or my future. But right then I was more worried for my friends.
“We need to get to Bryn. They hit her head hard enough to knock her out.”
Speaking felt like sawing at my vocal cords with a blunted blade, and even sitting up felt precarious. My head protested the exertion by arming someone with a hammer and letting them go to town on my skull.
