Dead of Winter (The Arcana Chronicles #3)(15)

Her illusion flickered like an old TV, going from girl to burly soldier. Girl. Then soldier.

“Enemy in the camp!” one of the guards bellowed.

We whirled around and bolted. With yells, half of the men gave chase.

Gabriel spread his wings, snagging Selena.

“Don’t take me first!” She flailed against his grip. “They’re dead if we leave them!”

He shot into the air like a reverse bungee, arcing upward and away.

Tess and I kept running. Conjuring my powers on the move like this felt impossible. I needed time to concentrate and seed my arsenal. Or I needed the witch. . . .

If we could just buy time for Gabriel to return! The bluff dropped off at a sheer cliff, so I skirted the edge of it, heading down the mountain. “This way!” I cried, careening along a winding trail.

Down and down we went into a gully of rock, those guards right on our heels. At last, the gully opened up into an inlet, a sandy beach that led to the river’s shore. The Priestess’s domain.

—Terror from the abyss!—

Between breaths, Tess asked, “D-did you hear her, Evie?”

The guards barreled onto the beach, pinning us back against an Arcana. Would I rather be a captive of the Lovers? Or bet on the Priestess not to kill me if I trespassed into her element?

I’d choose the Lovers. “Stop, Tess. Don’t go any closer to the shore—”

A huge splash sounded behind us. We twisted around.

Towering plumes of water burst from the surface. Like tentacles, they snaked across the sand.

To drag Tess and me down.

We ran toward the dumbstruck soldiers, but those tentacles focused on me. Wet pressure coiled around one of my boots! Caught!

Yank. I landed flat on my face, spitting a mouthful of sand, half-blinded by grit.

The thing jerked me toward the river, my body plowing the beach. I scrabbled for purchase, but the tentacle reeled me in like a fish.

Tess lunged forward to grab my hand. I stretched for her. Every time she got close, the tentacle snatched me back.

As if playing with us.

A girl’s disembodied voice said, “Enemies almighty.” Was the river speaking? “I thought you’d give me more sport than this, Empress.”

Taunting me? On the heels of my failed rescue?

Fury banked inside me, like fuel—or bait—for the red witch. My glyphs stirred, my hair reddening. My claws dug into my palms until blood poured to seed my own soldiers.

I spat more sand. “Get out of the way, Tess!”

She scrambled back.

Vines erupted from the ground, shooting like rockets toward those tentacles. The ropes of green twined around each arm of water, choking them, forcing them to regrow.

Gabriel yelled from above. Returned!

But he couldn’t get around the vine and water strikes to reach me and Tess.

Wherever the Priestess launched a water tentacle, my plants were ready to intercept and strangle. My arsenal fed from hers, fattening right before my eyes, seeping water.

When the tentacle around my ankle collapsed into a puddle, I levered myself to my feet. Vines flanked me, helping me stand.

“Come, Priestess, touch.” I raised my palm, and three barbs appeared. “And pay my price!” I tossed the barbs into the air, and a thorn tornado spun to life.

The Priestess attacked once more, but the tornado sheared her water feelers down like a propeller. They grew slower, regenerating with difficulty. She was weakening!

I laughed at her. “The earth went so long without water, Priestess. You must still be feeling it.”

“Only for a time, my sister enemy.” Her watery voice carried a melodic accent. “Ah, this rain, it falls without cease, no?”

The weary tentacles dropped, a last splash in the river. A final wave rippled. “We’ll meet again, Empress.” The surface settled to glass calm as the Priestess retreated.

Gabriel landed just outside my barbs, flaring his fangs, claws, and wings at our next threat.

The soldiers were slack-jawed, but their weapons stayed trained.

The red witch in me was unconcerned: Nothing that an old-fashioned thorn flaying can’t take care of. I smiled at them, and knew it was a harrowing sight. Yes, gentlemen, you are all about to die.

“Behind me, Tess.” When she crept to my back, I raised a hand to skin them alive—

That tall leader motioned for the others to lower their weapons. To me, he said, “C-can you kill the twins?”





9


“As a matter of fact, I’m on my way to do just that,” I promised him. “Right after I descend on you like a scourge.” The tornado tightened and vines snapped straight, poised to strike.

To his credit, the leader didn’t lose control of his bladder. “I’m . . . my name is Franklin. We don’t want to stop you. We want to help you.”

Tess whispered, “We should listen to them.”

Since my former plan had resulted in zero gain, I’d hear what this Franklin had to say. I inhaled for calm, exhaling. Again.

Bring it back, Eves. Muzzle the witch. “We’ll discuss this,” I told them, “once you take off your masks.”

He nodded to his men, and one by one, they did. Franklin appeared to be in his late twenties, with black hair, wide-set brown eyes, and a gap in his front teeth.