12. Tyranny’s Pr（ice） #2
Tarantula’s hand shot out in a blur. His cold prisoner chains moved against my throat as he yanked me back against his chest, fingers around my neck. His body burned behind me. Metal dug into my skin, my thoughts static as he held me hostage.
The man in the purple mask clapped slowly, long blond hair blowing in the wind, and the woman beside him smiled conspiratorially. “Great work, capturing her,” she practically purred. “Aleksander will reward thee handsomely.”
I tried to yank away from Tarantula, but his grip was unbreakable. He held me hard enough to bruise. The chain pulled tighter, and I choked.
“Let me go,” I whispered, voice cracking. I never trusted him, but still, this felt . . . heinous. Paralyzed with dread, I stared up with disbelief at his inscrutable expression. He didn’t even glance down at me. All his attention was fixed on the Royal Mages.
They laughed as I struggled.
I tried desperately to think around my frazzled panic. “You promised the Marshal . . . The leverage. Your pardon.”
Tarantula didn’t say anything.
“Please,” I whispered, vision blurring as I stared down the road at my home. “You can’t take her from me too.” The door was shut tight. Please let Mom be inside.
He jolted behind me as if struck, but he didn’t let go.
Carefully I wrapped my free hand around the hilt of a dagger strapped to my side. Tarantula’s chain yanked down my torso. He squeezed my wrist painfully before I could grab it.
I spread my fingers wide, desperately searching for my magic, but there was no tingle of awareness like usual in water’s presence. The snow was foreign . . . not mine to wield. Curse it all.
“Bring her to us!” The woman gestured. “We have a few more houses to check, and then we’ll go back to claim the reward—”
“No.” Tarantula’s voice rang loudly in the quiet street, cold and assured.
Both Royal Mages stopped, their heads tilting to the side in eerie synchronization as they studied him with confused expressions.
Tarantula’s heart pounded through his layer of armor, thudding against my spine. His cheek jostled my helmet as he leaned over me. “I order thee to stay behind me,” he whispered under his breath. “Hide. Now.”
Wait.
What?
One second I was constrained, pinned against his chest. The next he released me, pulled away the chain, and shoved me behind him.
Silver exploded from Tarantula’s palm, flinging both the Royal Mages up into the air. They soared backward above the street but landed with a roll, deftly springing back up to their feet with their glowing palms raised high.
Icicles broke off from the townhomes nearest them, and a dozen spears flew at Tarantula.
Squire shrieked behind my braid as I sprinted off to the side, hiding behind the thick trunk of a tall pine tree. “Look away, dear.”
His head swiveled around. “Me afraid,” he chirped.
“Me too,” I whispered.
In the middle of the street, Tarantula waved his hand. All the icicles turned around midair, then hovered for a second. He waved his other fingers, and they shot back at the senders. The Mages reared back with shock, then hid behind a porch, and the daggers shattered against the side of a townhome.
Tarantula sent more gusting toward them, but the Mages split up. The woman ran across the street, and he aimed for her while the man sent a volley of icicles back at his throat.
Tarantula ducked low, avoiding all of them. At that exact moment, the woman threw more at his legs. He grunted mid-roll and staggered as he stood up. Two had clipped the sides of his thighs, and blood splattered across the ice.
Bellowing, Tarantula waved, and an entire snow-covered roof detached from a house, burying the man. He did the same to another roof across the street, hitting the woman. The man fought his way out first.
Tarantula pointed, and a tree branch broke off.
With a flick of his wrist, it impaled the man through the gut. It should have taken him down. But instead of falling, the Mage grunted and ripped it out, blood spraying. He raised his arms and sent more icicles flying at Tarantula. One grazed his side, and he stared down at the wound.
Magic hissed, rising in a haze around Tarantula’s head. His eyes darkened. CRACK. The entire tree uprooted beside the Mage, plowing into him. He slammed against a townhome, hard.
The woman shouted with confusion as she burst out of the snow pile, gesturing angrily at Tarantula. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. “Who art—”
She also went flying, rolling across the road as the tree that hit the man swung into her.
“Who—” The man tried to speak, but no sound came out as he staggered into the street, waving his hands angrily. Silver glowed around his teeth. Tarantula had gagged him with his magic. Why? Icicle after icicle shot forward, and Tarantula batted them all away, redirecting them with his magic.
The man screamed louder, “How dare thou—”
A branch skewered straight through his open mouth.
Holy shit.
His brain exploded.
Pow. The woman flung an immense pile of snow down the street, and Tarantula stopped it in the air inches from his face, gritting his teeth. His smile was spine-chilling as he threw it back at her.
Boom. She jumped out of the way and shrieked as she sent another pile back.
He caught it again.
The ground shook as silver magic—ice and wind—flew back and forth in the narrow road, faster than the eye could track. Pop. Pop. Pop. Silver streaks lingered in the air like a fighter jet’s vapor trail. My eyes watered, and the sharp scent of the occult burned my nose.
Both waved their glowing hands, moving closer toward each other. Instead of tiring, they picked up speed the longer they fought. The art of war.
Heart pounding in my throat, I felt like I was witnessing something I shouldn’t ever have been privy to. Ducking low, I inched away from my hiding space, slowly edging forward. Please stay distracted.
Magic flung the woman back against bricks, and Tarantula stalked toward her. I took the opening, sprinting with everything I had toward my home.
Five houses away from Mom.
Four.
Three.
Two.
A scream echoed. The woman was back on her feet, directly across the road, staring me down. Tarantula had been hit by a pile of snow and was fighting to free himself.
She raised her glowing hands.
I chucked my dagger. It sank into her sternum, right above her heart—a kill shot. I waited. Why is she still standing?
She ripped it out of her chest and chucked it with magic straight back at me.
I dropped to the ground, but agony exploded as the blade buried itself in my dominant shoulder, inches away from my heart.
Groaning, I rose to my feet and dug into my holster. As best I could, I threw a second dagger. It also hit true, burrowing deeper into the open wound directly above her heart. She staggered back, blood pouring from her mouth as she screamed with outrage and raised her glowing hands.
I sprinted the last few feet, but a mountain of silver snow flew through the air in my direction.
“ZORA!” Tarantula bellowed. In my peripheral vision, he lunged for the woman with his hands spread wide.
The mound of snow cast me in shadow. Lucky girl, you’ll be okay. I chucked Squire off my shoulder as hard as I could.
BAM. The avalanche plowed into me, throwing me violently onto the icy road. Crushing darkness everywhere.
A memory played, Mom singing softly:
“Into the frosty Barren Forest we travel,
For our souls know the best way to go,
But the twisted path is ice, not gravel,
And we’ll lose our bodies in the snow.”