Yank. I landed flat on my face, spitting a mouthful of sand, half-blinded by grit.
The thing jerked me toward the river, my body plowing the beach. I scrabbled for purchase, but the tentacle reeled me in like a fish.
Tess lunged forward to grab my hand. I stretched for her. Every time she got close, the tentacle snatched me back.
As if playing with us.
A girl’s disembodied voice said, “Enemies almighty.” Was the river speaking? “I thought you’d give me more sport than this, Empress.”
Taunting me? On the heels of my failed rescue?
Fury banked inside me, like fuel—or bait—for the red witch. My glyphs stirred, my hair reddening. My claws dug into my palms until blood poured to seed my own soldiers.
I spat more sand. “Get out of the way, Tess!”
She scrambled back.
Vines erupted from the ground, shooting like rockets toward those tentacles. The ropes of green twined around each arm of water, choking them, forcing them to regrow.
Gabriel yelled from above. Returned!
But he couldn’t get around the vine and water strikes to reach me and Tess.
Wherever the Priestess launched a water tentacle, my plants were ready to intercept and strangle. My arsenal fed from hers, fattening right before my eyes, seeping water.
When the tentacle around my ankle collapsed into a puddle, I levered myself to my feet. Vines flanked me, helping me stand.
“Come, Priestess, touch.” I raised my palm, and three barbs appeared. “And pay my price!” I tossed the barbs into the air, and a thorn tornado spun to life.
The Priestess attacked once more, but the tornado sheared her water feelers down like a propeller. They grew slower, regenerating with difficulty. She was weakening!
I laughed at her. “The earth went so long without water, Priestess. You must still be feeling it.”
“Only for a time, my sister enemy.” Her watery voice carried a melodic accent. “Ah, this rain, it falls without cease, no?”
The weary tentacles dropped, a last splash in the river. A final wave rippled. “We’ll meet again, Empress.” The surface settled to glass calm as the Priestess retreated.
Gabriel landed just outside my barbs, flaring his fangs, claws, and wings at our next threat.
The soldiers were slack-jawed, but their weapons stayed trained.
The red witch in me was unconcerned: Nothing that an old-fashioned thorn flaying can’t take care of. I smiled at them, and knew it was a harrowing sight. Yes, gentlemen, you are all about to die.
“Behind me, Tess.” When she crept to my back, I raised a hand to skin them alive—
That tall leader motioned for the others to lower their weapons. To me, he said, “C-can you kill the twins?”
9
“As a matter of fact, I’m on my way to do just that,” I promised him. “Right after I descend on you like a scourge.” The tornado tightened and vines snapped straight, poised to strike.
To his credit, the leader didn’t lose control of his bladder. “I’m . . . my name is Franklin. We don’t want to stop you. We want to help you.”
Tess whispered, “We should listen to them.”
Since my former plan had resulted in zero gain, I’d hear what this Franklin had to say. I inhaled for calm, exhaling. Again.
Bring it back, Eves. Muzzle the witch. “We’ll discuss this,” I told them, “once you take off your masks.”
He nodded to his men, and one by one, they did. Franklin appeared to be in his late twenties, with black hair, wide-set brown eyes, and a gap in his front teeth.
When Gabriel sheathed his claws, I let my tornado slow, a compressed cyclone ringing our feet. “I’m surprised you would turn against your . . . leaders.” I had a hard time assigning that word to the Lovers.
“Most of this army hates the Milovnícis, but they’ve got spies everywhere. Anyone suspected of stepping out of line gets executed, along with family and friends. Or worse, the general gives them to the twins.”
If the Hierophant had manipulated his followers through mind control, the Milovnícis did it the old-fashioned way: tyranny.
I canted my head at Franklin. “Have you ever tried to kill the twins yourselves?”
“Yeah. I got this handpicked crew, and we’re ready. But each time, weird stuff happens. You might have better luck at it since all of this”—he indicated us—“is, uh, weird.”
“Tell me about Vincent and Violet,” I said. “What weird stuff?”
“We think they can teleport. Like in the comics.” Franklin must’ve expected us to laugh in his face.
We three Arcana listened intently. “Go on,” I said with a glance at Tess. She shared that ability. In theory.
“A couple of weeks ago, we’d planned to assassinate Violet. Right before it was time, we got radioed that she was in the other camp. But I’d just seen her in ours.”
No wonder Matthew had difficulty getting a bead on her!
How did one fight a teleporter? Of course they couldn’t teleport if they were spore-drunk. “I can kill them,” I told Franklin. “And I will. But Jack Deveaux is my first concern.”
He nodded. “We’ve got to hurry, then. The twins were raring to go.”
“Violet is here?”
“I saw her in the tent just before Vincent ordered us to wear gas masks.”
My barbs soared, tornadic once more. The soldiers stepped back.
Gabriel cocked his head. “It’s true. I can hear the Lovers from here. Jack refuses to torture another prisoner, so they’re going to torture him.”
I started sprinting back to the camp, Gabriel and Tess behind me, my thorns and vines trailing them. The soldiers followed at a distance.
We reached the bluff where we first landed. Between breaths, I told Gabriel, “We have to get to him before—”
Jack’s roar of pain sounded. Two yells joined it in chorus. The twins were mimicking him?
I turned to the angel with wide eyes. “What did they do?”
He stutter-stepped, putting the back of his arm against his mouth.
“What, Gabriel?”
He lowered his arm, revealing his pale face. “It’s bad.” He sounded like a doctor about to deliver a terminal prognosis. “Empress, they used a hot spoon to . . . to take out one of his eyes.”
“WHAT?” I’d misheard—or Gabriel had. That couldn’t have happened.