Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,147

trying to shake it loose from her hand but only beheading shades in her line of fire. “I will not! You won’t take me!”

Ken thrust forward with the Yawarakai-Te. The blade passed through the ice maiden’s chest. The woman shrieked again and brought the Juuchi down onto Ken.

“No!” Nya cried out.

The blade glanced harmlessly off Ken’s head.

There was a horrifying, crunching sound. As quick as lightning, without anyone noticing, Loki had snuck up behind the ice maiden and planted their staff right through her head. The edge of the Ruyi Jingu Bang protruded out from between her eyes. The ice maiden’s hands dropped down to clutch at the weapon, and Ken swung one last time. Yawarakai-Te shone brightly, so bright it resembled glittering diamonds.

The ice maiden exploded, as if she were made of water.

By the time the rest of the group had picked themselves up, unharmed albeit wetter, nothing remained of the ice maiden, not even a snowflake.

“She talks too much,” Ken mumbled weakly and spat out a mouthful of water.

“Not that I’m not thrilled,” Loki said carefully. “But how did the Juuchi—”

“We’re in an iced-up throne room and I’m bloody frickin’ cold and there’s maybe two tons of freezing water down my pants, Loki, so I’m not going to look a gift horse, ice maiden, sword, whatever, in the mouth at this point, and after we get everything sorted out here, I’m gonna go home and maybe buy a lottery ticket.” But Ken was grinning broadly. West had shifted back into human, still dancing.

Another pair of arms encircled Ken. “Rapunzel!” He croaked, “I’m soaked through!”

“That,” Nya said, paying him little mind, “was the stupidest, most frighteningly brave thing I’d ever seen anyone do in my life! Don’t ever do that again!”

“We’ll still need to figure out a way to get these people out of the ice without hurting them,” Zoe said in her thoroughly businesslike way, though she was also smiling. She glanced around at the jubilant group and frowned.

“Has anyone seen Tala or Alex?”

* * *

Fresh earth reached out to break her fall, and Tala crashed awkwardly into a sunny glade, the sharp hiss of ice replaced quickly by the songs of birds and swaying leaves. Tala paid them no attention; she was on her feet in an instant, but the cool surface of the mirror was a new barrier. It locked her inside this strange garden, preventing her from leaving the way she came.

“Hey!” She knocked hard against her reflection, seeing nothing but her panicked self staring back, with the forest behind her. The room, Alex, and Maidenkeep—they were gone. She was alone.

Alone, with the sword.

It looked the same as it had in the mirror at Tintagel—a large, heavy-looking boulder, with an equally rusty and heavy-looking sword embedded deeply into its surface. Up close, she could see a small inscription scrawled along its edges.

Who so pulleth out this sword stands Chosen.

“The Nameless Sword,” something said softly. “It’s yours.”

Tala turned, but there was no one there.

“The Nameless Sword?” she asked the empty air. “This is the Name—”

Something caught her right in between the shoulders and sent her crashing into the stone. She sank to the ground, wheezing.

Beside her, the firebird lifted its head and moaned. Half of its body lay frozen, its legs shrouded in ice.

“Hello, young Makiling,” the Snow Queen said. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

She wasn’t giving Tala much choice. The ice rapidly developing around her was also keeping her immobile. The frost wrapped speedily around her arms and hands, leaving only her head, neck, and chest visible. Her curse was useless, agimat bouncing harmlessly off her freshly rising prison. “Are you going to kill me?” she choked out.

“No. Would it surprise you to know that I grieve for the dead here?” The inexplicable sadness in the queen’s voice was unexpected. “I do not relish war, no matter what they tell you.” She tilted her head. “You look nothing like him.”

“I am everything like him,” Tala said.

“Is that why you hate hearing who he used to be?” She turned her attention back to the sword in the anvil. She took hold of its hilt and pulled, but the sword refused to budge.

“I expected as much.” Her hand dropped. “But I do not need to wield the blade to control it. I have been waiting for you for a long time, Tala. I, too, am gifted in prophecy. Only I am capable of seeing your doom. The firebird shall find the consort’s child,