Widow's Web

6

One second, everything was normal. Kids were laughing, talking, drinking, eating, and playing games. The next, everyone had stopped what they were doing, puzzled expressions on their faces as they tried to figure out why someone was interrupting their buzz. Then, when the screams didn’t stop, panic rippled through the crowd, until all the kids were pushing, shoving, and lurching around the deck, trying to put some distance between themselves and whatever horrible thing was happening.

I immediately palmed one of my silverstone knives and turned toward the source of the disturbance, although I made sure to keep Kincaid in my line of sight as well, just in case this was some kind of trick to distract me. He might be the boss here, but I wouldn’t have put it past him to pull a gun or knife on me and get his hands dirty himself.

“Back, back, back!” I yelled at Eva and Violet, pushing the two girls until they were up against the closed doors that led inside the riverboat.

Knife in hand, I put myself in front of them, protecting them from whatever the danger might be—and that’s when I realized the screams were coming from Antonio.

Given their tall, strong, thick bodies, giants were tough to injure and even tougher to kill. Sure, you could take one down with a gun or knife, but you usually had to work to do it. But Antonio was bent over double in the middle of the deck, his hands clutched to his head as though he had the worst migraine imaginable. He just kept screaming and screaming, and I couldn’t figure out why. He didn’t appear to have been stabbed, and I hadn’t heard any gunshots ring out. He didn’t seem to have so much as a paper cut. So what the hell was wrong with him?

Antonio finally lifted his head and straightened up. Once again, I looked him over, searching for any injuries and what might have caused them. I didn’t see any blood or wounds—not so much as a nick or a bruise—but wait . . . There was something wrong with his skin. It looked . . . wet.

And that’s when I felt the first gust of magic swirl through the air.

The elemental power slid against my skin as cool, slick, and gentle as water dripping off waxed paper. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation—not at all—but I didn’t welcome it either. Because magic most always meant trouble.

I focused, concentrating on the feel of the other elemental’s magic, but I couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from or who in the panicked crowd was wielding it—just that it was concentrated on Antonio.

After a few more seconds, the giant’s screams faded to garbled gasps. He was having trouble getting words out, and then his voice dried up altogether. He stood in the middle of the deck, his dark eyes empty, his body swaying from side to side like a tree about to topple over.

And he literally melted.

I watched as his skin, which had seemed damp before, took on a glossy sheen, as though he’d just run ten miles uphill and was sweating profusely. But it wasn’t sweat slicking down Antonio’s face, neck, and hands. It was water—all the water in his body, leaving.

“A water elemental,” I muttered, although my voice was lost in the commotion of the crowd.

I knew there were elementals gifted with water magic, and I’d heard of the ways such people used their abilities for everything from sailing, skiing, and fishing to more serious matters like flood control. But I’d never seen anything like this.

The human body was mostly made of water, and giants’ bodies were no different. More and more water beaded upon Antonio’s skin until it dripped off the ends of his fingers, his chin, hell, even the tip of his nose. His soaked suit was plastered to his body, and water leaked out of his wing tips and slowly spread across the deck. Well, that explained his agonized cries. Having the water forced out of every single cell in your body would make anyone scream, even a giant.

Without all that precious fluid, there wasn’t much of Antonio left. The giant’s face took on a gaunt, hollow look, and his whole body seemed to slowly deflate, like a tire that had sprung a leak.

It was sickening to watch.

Antonio wasn’t screaming anymore—but everyone else was. Even I had to bite back a snarl of disgust, especially when the elemental used their magic to pop the giant’s eyeballs right out of his head. The orbs splattered onto the deck and oozed over the glossy wood like white, runny eggs. That was a little excessive, if you asked me, a bit of showing off, especially since the giant was already so close to dead.

In less than a minute, it was all over. Antonio had been reduced from a rough, tough, seven-foot-tall giant to a pile of loose skin topped by an eyeless skull. The giant’s mouth opened once more, as if he wanted to scream a final time, but he never got the chance.

Antonio collapsed onto the deck, his skin and bones resting in the puddles of water that had just been forced out of him.