Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,122

putrid brown.

No! She was not going to be pulled down to her death, to drown in brackish swampland. She willed her whip into a fresh blade of light, careful to guide the electricity down a path she shaped instead of unleashing it on the water surrounding her. But the liquid was thick and oppressive, and the monster swam deeper down, pulling her along. It was making it harder to move the whip in the way she wanted. Spots appeared before her eyes and her head spun.

A scythe appeared, black as sin and thick as night. It bore down, slicing right through the tongue, splitting it into two bloody sections. The roar that echoed around them was deafening, but suddenly she was free.

Desperate, she clawed her way back up to the surface. She felt a solid barrier and realized in near-panic that the ice had solidified over her head. She thrust her whip upward with all her might, and the lash tore through the layer. Two more swipes opened up a hole wide enough for her to burst through, sucking in a deep, lusty, grateful breath of air as she did—only to be pulled back down again as a webbed foot slammed into her midsection, sending her cartwheeling back into the black depths.

The water stung her eyes, the cold pouring into her mouth. She spotted the second webbed foot coming her way and struck. The whip coiled around the offending limb, and Zoe had the presence of mind to charge only the points where the lash met creature flesh. There was a faint sizzle and smoke as electricity ran up the toad’s outstretched appendage, and spurts of more black blood clouded their soupy prison. The marsh king’s horribly grotesque, distorted face loomed up from beneath her, its broad mouth agape, its yellow eyes bulging with cruel malice. Then its lips distended farther to screech, a grating, squealing sound that sent her spinning away from the force alone.

Inky liquid erupted all around its misshapen body, and Zoe saw a scythe buried almost to the hilt in the frog’s stomach. The toad turned its attention to her rescuer, giving her enough time to summon more lightning than she thought she was capable of gathering. With one heavy push, she sent a large spiked current straight into its eye. The resulting scream was hideous, enough to make her ears bleed.

She popped back up the icy surface, clawing her way up and over the hole as her reflexes kicked into gear. She struck out immediately for the nearest shore, not stopping till her feet found muddy soil instead of hard ice and her fingers dug into frozen stone. Only then did she allow herself to fall limp, the glorious feeling of land against her face, thankful to be alive.

And then she was up again, turning back in panic. Cole!

But the waters swirling around the ice hole were already bubbling in protest. A geyser of iced mud and brackish water shot up into the air, erupting for several seconds before weakening and tapering off, like a valve somewhere below was abruptly shut off. Zoe stared fearfully at the icy crater, half expecting the frog to rear up again, wounded and angry. It didn’t. She began her crawl back to it, forging on with her elbows and kicking with her knees because there were no other signs of life, and if he, of all people, died saving her life, then she would never forgive him.

She was ten feet away when a scythe broke through the freezing brine, blade digging into the ice like a grappling hook, and she couldn’t suppress her scream.

The scythe was followed immediately by Cole, grunting in pain as he pulled himself out. Zoe grabbed him by his shirt and started to wriggle backward, drawing on reserves of strength she didn’t know she had until they had both retreated to the safety of the embankment. Cole, kneeling with his forehead pressed against the soil, his hand clamped on the wound on his arm, was the last thing Zoe saw before she finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when her eyes flew open again, her surroundings were different than from what she had last remembered. She was in a clearing, for one, and it was a good distance from where she’d fallen. They were practically at the edge of the swamps; she could see the thick frozen water finally giving way to barren soil, albeit covered by more clumps