Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,120

their surroundings, studying what little of the landscape they could see to keep moving in the right direction. With great care, they navigated around large bogs capable of sinking both person and horse if they hadn’t been frozen.

“Watch out for thin ice,” Loki warned. “The patches bluer in color are the safest to tread on. Gray means it’s at its thinnest and should be avoided.”

“Easy for you to say,” Ken grumbled. “Everything looks like cold mud to me.”

It was roughly a few hours after noon the next day when Loki gestured again for a halt. They walked several feet away, bent down to study the soil in front of them with a puzzled expression. “I think we have a problem.”

“That is not what we want to hear while stuck in a place like this, Loki,” Ken said.

“I know.” Loki rubbed at their temple, a frustrated, slightly bewildered look crossing their normally placid features. “Don’t you see anything strange about this?” they demanded, pointing at a small, desiccated, partly frozen tree stump close by.

“Other than it being the closest to a living thing in this otherwise frozen bloody circle of hell? Nothing much, really. Why?”

“We passed that very same trunk only an hour ago,” Loki said. “And an hour before that.”

“Are you sure?” Ken sounded unconvinced. “They all look the same to me.”

“I can tell the difference. Trust me, we’ve gone through this path before.”

“Have we been going around in circles?” Zoe asked, concerned.

“Not exactly. I still recognize a few landmarks.” Loki frowned. “I must have gotten my bearings turned around, but I don’t see how I could have.”

“What does that mean?” West asked from underneath the fur cloak now draped over his head, his voice muffled.

“It sounds ridiculous, but I think something’s been moving this trunk and a few other things around to confuse us.”

“So you’re telling us we’re lost,” Alex said, brittle fury in his voice. “You got us lost.”

“I’m sure I can find a way out before—”

“My father was sure he could protect Avalon too, and look where that got him,” the prince snapped. “We’ve had to fight our way through shades and ogres and Deathless to pick up a witch”—Nya opened her mouth to protest, but Alex barreled on relentlessly—“only to get stuck in wasteland, and now you’re blaming your failures on a dead tree. I can see why your father didn’t last long as a high lord.”

Loki blinked. “I…”

“What is wrong with you?” Tala shouted at him, finally losing her temper. “We’ve all tried to give you space because we know this is bringing back awful memories, but you have no right to go and take out your pent-up frustrations on them when they’re trying their best to help!”

“Try?” Alex shot back. He stretched his arms out on either side of him. “This is what trying got me! A dead kingdom, dead parents, and dead magic! You’re not here to try to protect me, you’re all here to prove why the Cheshire sent you! All you need to do is get me to Maidenkeep, and I’ll do the rest! Maybe he should have sent people who actually know what they’re doing!”

“You don’t let them help you! All you’ve done is push people away! You refuse to tell me what’s been up your ass, you won’t talk to anyone else, you’re mad at Zoe because she’s dating your ex.” Zoe gasped, but Tala was too pent up to shut up. “And I know there’s some dangerous spell you’re keeping from me, and it has to do with the firebird. And not just here in Avalon, but ever since you came to Invierno. If you won’t let anyone get close to you, even someone you consider a best friend, then how the hell do you expect anyone else to help?”

Alex’s eyes blazed. “You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“That’s exactly the point! I don’t! Because you’re not giving me anything to go on!”

“I don’t need anyone else! All I expect you to do is to get me out of this wasteland—”

He stopped, the color slowly leeching from his face, as the stump behind him began to shudder, rising slowly until it loomed several stories above them, small spindly branches strung out on either side of its ice-encrusted, gnarled body. Now at its full height, it no longer resembled a tree trunk. Instead, a large toad crouched before them, thinly camouflaged in mud and reeds. Dead bramble and branches settled on its head like a distorted, withered crown.

The great

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