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What is she—the glint of metal catches my eye and in the next moment, she pulls a dagger from a sheath strapped to her thigh.
That makes more sense than an impromptu, mid-battle strip tease.
“Fight, Josie!” Rune yells when the witch starts wading through the shallow water towards me.
What does he think I’m doing? I would yell at him if I could, but even my lips are frozen. No matter how hard I push against the spell, I can’t break it and I’m running out of time. The soaked fabric of the witch’s dress weighs her down, and she has to brace herself on the stone edge of the fountain as she clambers over.
I’m out of options. It’s yield or die.
Except, how do I yield if I can’t open my mouth? I am so completely screwed.
As Fake Avril checks her surroundings for any witches waiting to blindside her, the broken remains of Delaney’s body catch my attention, just a few feet away.
Please help me.
I don’t know whether I’m sending the silent prayer to Mother Gaia or Delaney, but I hope one of them is listening.
And then…I know what I need to do.
I take a breath and summon my magic, remembering how it felt to control the dead in my family crypt. Apparently, raising the dead is like riding a bike because Delaney jolts the second I will her to move.
It makes me sick, thinking that just a few minutes ago she was vibrant and alive, and now I’m using her corpse and reducing her to nothing more than a puppet.
Pushing down the self-loathing, I focus on the task at hand.
Phi’s shock echoes in my mind. You didn’t tell me you’re a necromancer!
The term makes me cringe even as I wield a dead body like a tool. Delaney’s limbs roll and she staggers to her feet with janky, uncoordinated movements. I have no idea how she’ll help, but right now, she’s my only hope.
I push harder, urging her to hurry as Fake Avril has reached me and leans close, her knife clutched out of my line of sight.
The cruel smile she gives me will haunt me for life—which may only be the next few minutes. She meets my gaze, tracking my pupils.
Realization comes too late. She spins just as Delaney comes up behind her, swinging a closed fist. It doesn’t connect, but it breaks the chanting.
I jolt forward as I’m suddenly released from the enchantment. “Now it’s two against one.”
This time when Delaney swings, I’m ready to back her up. When Fake Avril moves to avoid the hit, I go low and kick her knee out from under her. It lets Delaney use her weight to pin the witch against the edge of the fountain.
Yes! Yes! Phi glides over my head, no longer frozen and eager for an opportunity to assist. I knew choosing you as my witch was the right move.
At least one of us is excited about my power. Personally, I would have preferred an ability like Rune’s. Even if my new power did just save my life for the second time in as many weeks, I hate using it.
But I don’t let up with Delaney. Not yet.
“Tap out!” I yell at the witch, determined to make it out on top. There can’t be many witches left competing.
A sudden flare of anger ignites inside of me, morphing my determination into a pure rage that spreads, red hot, through my veins. My fingers flex as Delaney’s tighten their hold on the witch and shove her head beneath the water.
Fake Avril’s fingers scratch against Delaney’s arms, but it’s useless. It doesn’t take long for her limbs to start flailing, panic winning out over strategy.
Stop, Josie. The poor witch needs to breathe. I hear Phi’s words, and somewhere in the recesses of my mind, their meaning registers. But what she’s saying isn’t as important as the all-consuming anger drowning out everything else. Josie, no! You’ll kill her.
I blink and snap out of it—whatever that was. The anger dissipates as quickly as it came on, leaving me reeling.
I don’t want to win enough to kill for it.
Delaney hauls the witch out of the water, her makeup running worse than before and streaming down her cheeks, accenting bright blue eyes, wide in shock.
