Widow's Web

31

The water continued to rain down all around Salina and me, like the two of us were standing in the middle of a thunderstorm. We faced each other in the midst of the downpour. Her eyes flicked around, scanning the overturned tables, the broken dishes, the crushed chairs, the shattered Ice bars. Then, her gaze swung back to me, hurt and accusing.

“This is your fault,” she muttered. “All your fault. You’ve ruined everything! Owen! My revenge! Everything!”

I grinned. “I have a way of doing that.”

Salina smiled, baring her teeth at me. “Well, this is going to be the last thing you ever ruin, you assassin whore. And once you’re gone, Owen will come back to me. I know he will.”

I looked at her, wondering if she really believed that, if she really believed Owen would come back to her after everything that had happened, after everything that she’d done to the people he cared about. But her conviction filled her face, making her eyes burn that much brighter. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her.

Then the bitch blasted me with her water magic, and I got over it.

Salina raised up her hands, and the water droplets that had been clinging to her skin began to move and writhe like kudzu vines sprouting and growing all around her. I realized we were in a different kind of garden now—a water garden in which Salina was the queen and I was just her unfortunate victim.

“You really should have drowned in the creek while you had the chance,” she hissed. “Because now, I’m going to tear you limb from limb.”

She waved her hands again, and the water vines shot out from her skin and slammed into mine. It was the same sensation I’d had when she’d tried to drown me in the creek—all of these tight, tiny vines wrapping around my whole body.

Only this time, instead of pulling me under the water, they were ripping me apart.

I watched in horror as the water vines began to sprout long, sharp, curved thorns. For a moment, the vines arced out away from my body before shooting forward, the thorns ripping into my skin. I screamed, but the thorns continued to burrow deeper and deeper into my body with every breath I took. It felt like my skin, my muscles, even my bones were on fire, and I could feel the blood gushing out of the hundreds of tiny pricks the thorns had made in me. I had no doubt Salina could do exactly what she claimed—she would tear my arms, legs, hell, even my head from my body. I wondered if she’d go that extra step and pop my eyes out of my skull like she’d done to Antonio. Either way, it would be a horrible, painful way to die.

I reached for my Stone magic, hardening my skin against the thorns’ intrusion. But that only slowed the onslaught—it didn’t stop it.

I stood there, pushing back against Salina’s water magic with my Stone power. She let out a frustrated scream that I’d stalled her initial attack and she wasn’t going to immediately kill me the way she wanted to.

“Fine,” she snarled. “If I can’t rip you to pieces, I’ll just drown you like the rat you are.”

Using her left hand, Salina grabbed the silverstone cuff bracelet on her right wrist and made a twisting motion, tapping into the power stored there. The water vines wrapped around me started pulling me over to the closest fountain, the one shaped like a mermaid. I dug my boot heels into the ground, but since it had turned to mud, it didn’t slow down the vines—not even for a second.

I couldn’t let go of my Stone magic or Salina would rip me apart with her water thorns, and I couldn’t fight back against the vines that held me tight. The vines had trapped my arms by my sides, making it impossible for me to reach for one of the knives still left on me. So I skidded along in the mud, the mermaid fountain getting closer and closer with every second. I knew that if she got me in there I was dead. Salina would just keep pouring more and more water on top of me until I either drowned or was crushed, or she broke through my Stone magic and could tear me to pieces like she’d promised.

I only had one chance left—the staff.

My eyes landed on the weapon, which had slid over to the base of the mermaid fountain. It was covered with mud, like everything else was, but I could still see the long, distinctive shape of it. The staff was the only shot I had left to get out of this alive and turn the tables on Salina. It wasn’t the weapon itself so much that mattered—it was the Ice magic it contained.

My Ice magic.

I didn’t have enough Ice magic on my own to stop Salina. There was just too much water puddled on the ground and spewing up in the air for me to do that. Besides, she was using the extra power stored in her cuff bracelet to augment her already strong magic. But the staff had soaked up a fair amount of my power when I’d been battling Dekes, power that I’d added to over the past few weeks, just in case I ever needed it—which I desperately did tonight.

Now all I had to do was be very, very good—and very, very lucky.

I quit struggling against the water as it dragged me closer to my death. Instead, I started calculating distances and angles. I also reached for my Ice magic, bringing it to bear, right along with my Stone power. I’d only get one shot at this, and I had to make it count.

“I can’t believe you’re the one who killed Mab,” Salina said, walking through the mud right beside me as if we were out for an evening stroll instead of marching toward my waterlogged demise. “She was so strong. But you? You’re not strong at all, are you, Gin? Or at least not strong enough. Not to keep Owen, and not to keep me from killing you.”

I didn’t bother answering her. There was no point in it. I doubted she’d hear me through her own ego anyway. Instead, my eyes locked on the staff lying in the mud. I was only ten feet away from it now.

Nine . . . seven . . . five . . . three . . . one . . . go!

The vines dragged me right by the staff. I let go of my Stone magic for one precious second, letting the water thorns rip into my skin again, and reached for my Ice power instead, using it to freeze the vines that trapped my right hand down by my side. The water froze, and I sent out another blast, shattering some of the vines—just enough of them.

Beside me, Salina stopped. “What do you think you’re doing? That won’t save you—”

Once my arm was free, I used it to push her as hard as I could. She stumbled back against the fountain. She didn’t hit it very hard, since my blow was so weak and awkward, but it was enough to break her concentration on her water magic, just for a second.

That was all I needed.

The remaining vines loosened around my body, and I threw myself forward and down into the mud, reaching, reaching, reaching for the staff with all the precious Ice magic it contained.

My fingers closed around it just as her magic tightened around me once more.

“Die, bitch!” Salina hissed.

“You first!” I snarled back.

Struggling against the vines, I managed to get to my feet, bring the staff up over my head, and slam it down into the mud—releasing every last bit of the Ice magic stored inside.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, in the space between breaths, everything around me just—crystallized.

The second before the staff plunged into the ground, I reached for all the Ice magic—my magic—stored in the silverstone. I combined that power with what was flowing through my veins, pouring it all into the staff and using the weapon to focus my energy, my will. And when the metal tip of the staff buried itself in the mud, I forced all of the power out of the weapon, lashing out with it as hard, fast, and brutally as I could. The silvery color of my magic filled my vision, blotting out everything else, as though I was standing in the middle of a cold, burning star.

I wasn’t sure if it would be enough to overcome all the water on the ground and still arcing up through the air. I wasn’t sure if I had more magic stored in the staff than Salina did in her bracelet. I wasn’t sure if my magic would be enough to cut off her power source.

But I tried it.

And it worked.

For a few seconds, there was just—cold. This blast of cold that overcame everything else, like a nuclear winter. Ice zipped along the ground, the jets of water froze in midair and glittered like giant ocean waves, and everything became cold, hard, and slick. And the elemental Ice didn’t stop at the edge of the fountains—it kept right on going, spreading out across the lush spring grass like a sheet unrolling, killing the blades instantly, and causing the people still running from the scene to slip and fall as the Ice crystals caught up with and then spread past them.

When it was over, when the silvery light of my magic finally faded away, I slowly stood up, the staff still in my hands. Empty now of all its power, just like me. I’d put every last bit of my elemental magic—Ice and Stone—into that blast. Now, I had nothing left. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and the staff slipped through my fingers and clattered to the ground.

Behind me, someone let out a low whistle. I whirled around to find Finn casually gliding on his wing tips across the sheet of Ice with all the easy grace of an Olympic figure skater.

“Damn,” he drawled, sliding to a stop beside me. “I knew that staff had some of your Ice magic in it, but not that much. It looks like the middle of January instead of May.”

That was something of an understatement. Ice stretched out as far as the eye could see, glittering like a field of frosty diamonds in the growing darkness. Two inches of Ice encased all of the fountains, and not so much as a single drop of water flowed out of the busted pipes. The ground had also frozen solid and was as slick and glossy as an ice-skating rink.

I’d been the closest to the mermaid fountain, and it had taken the brunt of my attack. The Ice had blasted it into pieces. The mermaid was missing her tail, while her head and long, wavy hair were now just barely clinging to the rest of her body, although she still had that crazy, crazy grin on her face—one that still made me shiver, even now, when it seemed like I’d survived after all.