than I hated it last night, but probably not as much as I’m going to hate this fucking town when I go ice-pick-crazy on the enchanted well. It doesn’t help that every single atom in my body stings and burns, and a creepy tingling sensation slithers up my spine. I grit my teeth and do my best to ignore the pain.
At least the animal cries have stopped.
Silver linings.
Glancing back toward Cadence, I find Professor Prickhead and Gaëlle bracketing her. They’re deep in discussion, but all three have their eyes on me and my pathetic progress.
I tow my sore body upright and manage to stay vertical this time. Before I can slip again, I reach over and grab one of the wooden posts holding up the pointed gazebo-roof thing. The spotlight the fire department has set up is bright as shit and nearly blinds me as I shift position to look down into the well at the amber water.
Behind me, it’s all laughter and shouting, the idiot college students still keeping the firefighters busy. But here at the well, it’s eerily quiet and still.
I lean further over the opening, the frozen cascade and glacial stones pressing into my ribs, and squint to see past the grate. A bubble forms under the ice and pops. Then suddenly, instead of my reflection, I see a woman’s face. A familiar face. Her eyes are closed, her lashes so long they caress her cheekbones. Her skin has a pearly shine to it, and her cherry lips look as moist and luscious as the fruit. A cloud of caramel-brown hair floats around her.
The pain in my limbs melts away, and I feel woozy and warm, like I’ve just swallowed a glass of cognac. Or three.
I twist my hand around the post, the spotlight catching on the Bloodstone. A ruby-red beam streaks over the well water.
The woman’s eyes open to reveal pale-blue irises. She blinks, and then her lashes hit her browbone, the blue now surrounded in white. Pale fingers slide through the grate and grip it. Her mouth opens in a terrible scream.
Cadence.
Fucking hell, it’s Cadence! She’s trapped. And she’s drowning.
But wait . . .
That’s impossible.
I whip my head to where Cadence stood only moments ago.
She’s no longer there.
I frantically search the crowd for her long hair. Her silver jacket. Her fuzzy pompom. But she’s fucking nowhere.
Oh, Jesus, no. No, no, no.
The warm feeling in my veins is replaced by a cold blade of fear and adrenaline.
This must be my test. Magic locked her inside to motivate me to dive in. I’ll get her out. I’ll rip this damn well apart stone by stone if I have to.
I punch at the ice with my right hand. Again and again. I smash through the frozen crust over the grate, the ring acting like a fucking hammer. The first layer becomes white dust. I brush it away. Find Cadence thrashing, knuckles white, lips parted around my name.
I shatter more ice until I reach the grate. The frozen metal is brittle and three of the rusty bars snap. I tug on them, bending them backward like the fingers on the last guy who tried to screw me over back in Marseille. There’s enough room to shove my arm through, but not my body, or hers.
Cadence’s pale fingers twine through mine but then slip.
16
Cadence
I gasp and almost fall, and not because of the ice. Thankfully, Adrien’s solid hold on the table we’re carting out of the tavern to stick atop the well doesn’t falter.
Slate’s just smacked Gaëlle, sending her flying backward, her yellow scarf streaming like a ribbon in the dawn-tinted air. She lands on the ice, missing one of the wooden beams that holds the pointed roof by a centimeter, maybe less.
“Merde,” Adrien mutters as Slate, whose coat sleeve is drenched, reaches into the well again.
When Adrien drops his end of the table, I almost go down, but my soles grip the ice.
“Slide the table, Cadence!” He takes off, half-skating half-flailing toward the well. When he reaches it, he hisses Slate’s name, but that doesn’t even break his concentration. Adrien reels his arm back and lets his fist fly into the inside of Slate’s elbow, forcing it to bend.
Slate’s entire body jerks, including his gaze, which gleams ferociously in the firefighters’ bright beam. He snatches his hand out of the well and pulls his arm back so fast it blurs. His fist comes flying at Adrien’s jaw.
Shoving the table on the ice as though it’s a hockey puck, I