Wicked As You Wish

by Rin Chupeco

  Another shade had crept up behind them. The girl spun, rising on the tips of her toes. Her ethereal whip gleamed, and Tala saw sparks gathering around her body, following her movements. The cord whirled in the creature’s direction, and the collected currents slashed it through. Another shadow attempted to aid its brethren, and Zoe spun, the whip following her movements and coiling around her right leg. She leaped up and kicked, sending the length of its tail and the resulting whirlwind of lightning flying, tearing the shadow into ribbons.

  “Ballet-fu,” Ken explained, grinning.

  “Don’t be a hero, Ken,” Zoe warned. “We’re all supposed to get out of here in one piece.”

  “But, Zoe,” the boy protested innocently, his eyes bright. “A hero is exactly what I want to be when I grow up.”

  “If you ever grow up.”

  Another loud roar told them the ogre had finally arrived. It took a step forward, and stopped as Loki blocked its path, swinging their staff with enough force to drive the steel deep into its shins, snapping sounds following in its wake. The ogre turned its head toward them, and Tala saw a pair of bloodshot eyes, cruel and bulging. The lion that had been West lunged, ripping into the immense legs with his teeth and claws.

  Ken dashed forward. Tall as he was, the top of his head barely reached the ogre’s knees. Bright light issued forth from one of his swords. The ogre flinched, shielding his hands from the glare, even as the others continued to worry at his heels, inflicting deep cuts into the rough, leathery skin. The firebird had joined the fight, pelting the ogre’s hide with fire. The creature snarled and made a sudden grab for it, but the firebird ducked underneath its massive hands, flying just out of reach.

  “Don’t let that thing get to His Highness!” Zoe warned.

  To Tala’s horror, Loki bounded straight up, grabbing at the ogre’s knee to pull themselves up the beast. The ogre lifted its leg, trying to shake them off, but Loki had already latched on to its lower back. They hauled themselves up another several feet, literally climbing their way up the monster.

  Battle cries echoed across the quad; the rest of Tala’s titos and titas had arrived, brandishing fans.

  The ogre struggled, lifting one foot in front of the other, painstakingly closing the distance between them. It roared again, something incomprehensible, and lifted a large meaty fist the size of a boulder to slam against the concrete. The ground shuddered from the blow.

  Her father brained a shade. “Get Tala out of here!” he ordered.

  There was a tug at Tala’s elbow, insistent—Zoe, pulling her and Alex away from the fracas. “I can help!” she protested.

  “I’m sure you can, but right now I’m following orders.”

  Ken hacked at the coarse outstretched arm that had just missed him by inches. The sword shone again, and he swung it in an upward arc. This time, Tala clearly saw the thin streak of light that shot out from its tip, striking the ogre directly in the face. The smell of seared flesh sizzled through the air.

  The ogre swiveled its head, distracted by the increase in combatants. As agile as a deer, Loki ran up the side of the ogre’s arm, bringing their staff down to crash against the side of the creature’s head, then somersaulting to cling to its back when the ogre shook itself violently, trying to dislodge them. It stopped when the firebird dove, unleashing a fresh torrent of fire in its face.

  There was another hideous roar, and a second ogre burst through the clearing. Ken turned to gawk at the new threat.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Run!” Zoe yelled. This time, Tala didn’t argue, her feet already moving before the other girl had finished. Alex kept pace beside her, but the new ogre quickly closed the distance between them.

  Her mother was fighting her way toward the ogre with her father half a step behind, swinging at anything unfortunate enough to get in his way. But there were far too many shades, several sentient enough to recognize that she was their most dangerous opponent, and their constant barrage forced her to fight them instead of the large titan.

  The firebird dipped low to breathe balls of flame right into the ogre’s face, forcing it a step back. The monster made another attempt to snatch it, but the firebird deftly evaded its clutches.

  Then the ogre’s head jerked back, dark brown liquid seeping out of a deep cut across its cheek. One of the Katipuneros had drawn their arms back in perfect synch, and then swung at the air again. Sharp new blades of wind cut even deeper into the monster’s arms.

  Zoe lifted a hand and made a quick, cutting gesture, like she was drawing back a bow, the whip following her movements. Slices of lightning gathered, tore into the ogre, one blow lashing it right in the eye. Tala reeled back from the force of its scream.

  She stumbled when the ground rocked again, the strongest upheaval so far. She heard Alex gasp as he, too, tripped and tumbled. The ogre, bloody and half-blind, was toppling down on them.

  Tala saw the large fist crashing down toward her head. And felt Zoe slam squarely into her side, pushing her and Alex out of the way.

  “Zoe!”

  There was a sickening thud. Tala scrambled back up, heart in her throat.

  The ogre’s fist settled atop a small spinning column of air, working as several inches of buffer between it and Zoe’s straining face. Lola Urduja’s fan was a blur, her face fatigued as she strove to maintain the barrier.

  The ogre reached out for Zoe with its other hand. Slices from her whip swiftly reduced the ogre’s skin to shreds, burning and cutting the arm right off. The creature shrieked.

  “Your Highness!” Zoe’s face was white and drawn. “Take Tala and run!”

  But the sheared limb had a mind of its own, The fist uncurled and lunged for Lola Urduja. The old woman dodged, but her shield of air crumpled abruptly, spinning out of control, the force of it hurling Tala and Alex back several yards.

  The fist hit the ground, missing Zoe by centimeters. She lashed out with her whip again. Streaks of more lightning punched straight into the forearm, tearing at the skin.

  But the limb was oblivious to pain. Its grip tightened, the massive fingers working up her leg. Zoe struggled to get free.

  The noises from the battlefield dimmed around Tala, receding into the distance until all she could hear was her rapid, panicked breathing, and the furious beating of her heart. It felt like time had fallen around her in slow motion, as if she could see the spaces in between every movement. Zoe said to run; she did just that.

  “Tala!” Alex yelled as she scrambled toward Zoe, but the words sound muted, as if they came from underwater. Something roared at her from overhead. The second ogre swung its last good arm down on her.

  Tala swung her arnis sticks right back at it.

  The sound when she made contact with the ogre was both the most unnerving silence and the loudest thing she’d ever heard. It felt like she’d lost her hearing, and at the same time she could feel the ogre screaming in a voice she was sure could be heard around the world.

  Then the arm disappeared. It didn’t evaporate like the shadows did, or explode into a disgusting mix of bone and blood, or even disintegrate. It simply vanished into thin air, like it had never existed to begin with.

  The firebird lashed out, sensing an advantage, and this time, the air did explode, flames shooting out to envelop not only the ogre’s arm that was still attached to Zoe, but its face as well.

  The monster surrendered its hold, and Zoe rolled away to safety as the ogre smashed its face against the ground in a noisy, anguished attempt to quell the flames, then struggled to stand again, its remaining horribly burned hand clutching at the stump where its other arm used to be. Its face was an ugly black ruin, horribly contorted, still aflame. It squealed, a thin high-pitched screech like fingernails scratching down a blackboard.

  “Tala,” Zoe gasped, wide-eyed.

  Tala stared down at her hands
, trembling uncontrollably, even as Zoe and Alex dragged her out of harm’s way.

  Then there were the unmistakable sounds of an engine, roaring loudly and growing stronger with every second.

  A large motorcycle bore down on them, silver and black. Its rider was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and steel-colored eyes, face square and grim—the boy from her English class, Tala realized. Cole Whatshisname.

  He shot past them, drawing out what was to Tala’s eyes the most hideous-looking scythe she had ever seen. Several tiny knives were crisscrossed around the handle. They jutted haphazardly up like a bramble hedge toward the blade, which twisted rather than curved down the way normal scythes did. Where one of Ken’s swords was a shining ebony, this was black as soot, turbid with the suggestion of grime.

  A nearby shade pounced, hissing, but the boy swung the frightful scythe, cutting right through the shade like it was made of paper. The boy lifted the blade again and cut straight into the motorbike’s tank. Gasoline spilled out.

  At the last possible minute, the boy leaped off the bike, landing and rolling away. The motorcycle raced on ahead, slamming right into the still-burning creature and knocking it backward, away from Tala, Zoe, and Alex.

  Both bike and ogre exploded, flames engulfing the beast. Tala was thrown back to the ground, ears ringing. The ogre twisted and writhed for several seconds, then shuddered one last time, its cries tapering off before it finally lay still.

  The remaining ogre’s attention was divided. While Ken avoided the blows, Loki attacked the creature from the opposite side, the two switching strategies when the ogre’s attention was diverted by the other, the lion still worrying at its shins and heels.

  Then Tala’s parents were there, having finally destroyed most of the shadows. Her father hacked at the ogre’s foot with one mighty blow, severing it completely. The ogre sank down to one knee. Her mother raised a hand, and the rest of that knee disappeared, in the same way Tala had done.

  Overwhelmed, beset in all directions, the hideous creature bent, bellowing its frustration. Its snarls of rage were cut short when Kensington’s crackling-light sword slid smoothly into the center of its chest. At the same time, Loki, scampering up the top of its head, plunged their staff through its temple.

  And finally, finally, the last ogre crashed, dead on its feet long before it hit the ground.

  There was silence for a full minute, interrupted only by the sound of flames consuming the other ogre’s lifeless form.

  “Everyone okay?” Ken pulled out his blade with an awful ripping sound. His face was flushed and bruised from battle. Loki was impassive, if a little dirty, while the large lion had disappeared. West tugged the heavy fur off his head with a flourish, revealing he was also completely naked underneath.

  “Where’d you learn that?” Ken asked Tala, impressed.

  “I don’t know?” The ringing in her head had not yet subsided.

  Ken looked over to Cole. “Thanks for the help.” He added, if a little grudgingly, “Sorry about your bike.”

  The other boy nodded in acknowledgment. “It’s not my bike.”

  “West,” Zoe said delicately, taking great pains not to look directly at the boy. “Go find something to cover yourself up with, please?”

  “Oh,” West said, looking down at himself. “I keep forgetting about that.”

  “Who the hell are you again?” Alex asked, gaping at West.

  “Weston-Clifford Beaujour Grethari Bannock Iognaidh-Under-Waves Brighteye Eddings VI, Your Highness.”

  “Good grief,” Alex said. “You mean there’s five more of you?”

  “We should leave,” Lola Urduja said, scanning the area, “before the authorities arrive.”

  Zoe stared hard at Cole. “I suppose you’ll have to come with us.”

  “Finally believe I’m here to help, Carlisle?”

  “No, but if I leave you behind, you’re likely to cause trouble. I’d rather keep an eye on you, and on my own terms.”

  The ogres’ blood stained the ground, inky-black night spreading across tainted soil, the rancid stench searing her nostrils. Tala looked at the smoldering face of the dead ogre, the ogre she had maimed, and the thick smell of charred flesh seemed to wrap around her.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” she announced, rather feebly, and then did just that.

  12

  In Which the Snow Queen Uses Ice for Her Dirty Work

  It was nearing midnight by the time they’d left the dubious safety of the desert to make for the Invierno exit. Tala’s parents had brought their van; she, Alex, Zoe, Ken, West, and the firebird were crammed into the back seat, while Lola Urduja, Cole, and the rest of the titos and titas followed behind with the car Tita Teejay had hot-wired. It was like the world’s worst road trip.

  The plan was to make it out of town without any more incidents, but Tala’s mother was worried.

  “They should have shown up,” she griped, while Tala’s father hovered around the speed limit, the uneven ground and sand making everyone in the car bounce up ever so slightly, with Ken grunting every time his head hit the ceiling. “You could hear the ogre from miles away. If the agents had set up a blockade outside of town, they would have heard all the ruckus. Why not send their people over to investigate?”

  Her father frowned. “More likely they had orders to stay in position no matter what. Reckon they might think it’s a ploy to lure them away from their watch.”

  “It still doesn’t make sense to me that they wouldn’t send at least one person to find out what the screaming and the explosions were all about.”

  “You do know it would’ve been worse if they did find us, aye?”

  Her mother could only scowl, staring ahead with her arms folded. “I just don’t like it, Kay.”

  “If it helps,” Ken told Tala cheerfully, “I puked my guts out after killing my first nightwalker. Barfed all over Commander Hagrenot’s shoes too. He made me clean them afterward.”

  “I really don’t wanna talk about it,” Tala mumbled. She turned her head toward West, who had managed to find a pair of pants somewhere in all the chaos. “And how the hell did he do that? Is he a werewolf?”

  Ken chuckled. “Wondering about the shape-shifting, aren’t cha? He’s a Roughskin.”

  “It’s easier to concentrate when I use this,” West offered, holding up his fur cloak.

  “Where’d you even get those clothes, West? They’re all a couple of sizes too big for you.”

  “Found them in the mansion Zoe sent us to when the ogre first attacked.”

  “You literally stole someone’s pants?”

  “Nobody else was wearing them.”

  Zoe sighed.

  “You’re going to have to explain a lot of things to me,” Tala said. “I don’t know much about a lot of spelltech, so I don’t really know much about…well…” She nodded at Zoe’s whip, which was now looped around her waist again.

  “This one isn’t standard spelltech, exactly. Weapons like my whip and Ken’s sword are called segen. ‘Charmed.’”

  “I’m not sure what the difference is.”

  “So magic’s the law of equivalent exchange, right? You’re familiar with the rules. Like casting a minor glamour spell for a phone app will cause its creator to age for a week, but it won’t affect other users and can be replicated. That’s how they’re able to mass-produce some of the simpler magic, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Simple magic is mainly category three spells, though. You can cast them on almost anything, and the consequences tend to be minimal. As you know, that’s terrible on mass production because the spellforger will have to shoulder the consequences of each spell they cast per user, so they don’t. But segen spells are especially potent because it can bind category one magic both to an item and to a specific person, even a bloodline, permanently. A
nd the person gets to shoulder most of the repercussions instead of the spellforger.”

  “Bloodline? That’s possible?”

  “Yup. Spelltech passed down generations that can only be used by a specific family tree. Of course, some restrictions remain. Certain family members might not even qualify. My mom didn’t, so she passed her whip on to me.” She shrugged. “I’m a blitzsegner—a lightning-charmer. The whip’s called an Ogmios, named after an ancestor of mine. Most Bandersnatchers possess at least one kind of segen. A bit classist, though; most come from noble families, mainly because they were the only ones who could afford creating segen in the first place.”

  Alex nodded. “I remember Dad talking about taking that rule away when they were trying to rework the guidelines for admission to the Order.”

  “I’m not as fortunate as Ken to inherit two segen,” Zoe pointed to the pair of swords strapped to Ken’s back, “but they come in different shapes and forms. It’s rare enough for most families to have one. They’re hard to forge nowadays; too expensive, too difficult for a good cat one spellforger to get it right without getting themselves blown up.”

  “Is it still considered fortunate if one of those swords allegedly drives you mad without the other’s presence, which is why I gotta lug both?” Ken asked with a wince.

  “The perks of equivalent exchange, Ken.”

  “Easy for you to say, you only die if you use the Ogmios wrong.”

  “Blown up?” Tala eyed the segen of both, not sure if she should be traveling in the same car with them.

  “Equivalent exchange doesn’t always mean it’s a successful one,” Zoe pointed out. “Lots of things can still go wrong during the binding process. It’s why most spellforgers refuse the more complicated spellbinding, no matter how much money they’re offered.”

  “What sacrifice did being a blitzsegner ask of you?” Tala wanted to know. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Sure. Well, blitzsegners tend to be weak against earthsegners and earth-based spells for obvious reasons.” Zoe nudged at her whip, tilting the handle Tala’s way, and the latter saw the words: In joy, sadness; in retribution, justice inscribed there. “Allegedly, if any of the Carlisles enjoy too much prosperity or happiness, it will be offset by tragedy to maintain the balance.”