Page 90 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

Moonlight dimly lit the bog, and I had to strain to see in the dark. I wished Vine were here. It could find Nevan. It could slither about and navigate this damp land much easier than I could. I took another step forward, glass crunching underfoot. I froze, then slowly lifted my boot to reveal Nevan’s spectacles now crushed against the thick sole.

My blood turned to ice. “Nevan!” I screamed.

That same gurgling sound responded, and this time, I was close enough that I could pick up on where it had come from. I took a few more steps forward as my boot sank into the mud, stuck.

I cursed, not having time for this, but when I tried to pull my foot up, it wouldn’t give.

A mud pit. I’d gotten trapped in enough of these to know exactly what to do.

I wasted no time, bending over to untie the laces of my boot and free my foot. I scrambled backward and watched as the mud devoured my boot. But that was the least of my worries.

My gaze caught on a slash of pale skin. A hand. A single hand sticking out of the mud.

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.” I lurched forward but stopped myself before I got sucked into the mud again.

Nevan. Nevan had stepped right into that mud pit trying to chase me, trying to tell me he loved me.

This was all my fault, and if he died, I’d never forgive myself.

My hands clenched into fists. No.

I wouldn’t let him die. I looked down at the amulet hanging from my neck. It had been so, so long since I’d used my magic, but if there was any time it would be worth it, it was now. Using it wouldn’t drain all my magic, but even if it did, I didn’t care.

All I cared about was saving Nevan. I would give up all the magic in the world to save him.

I stretched out my arm, that familiar zing that made me feel so alive shooting through my blood. I’d always thought this must be how humans felt when they talked about adrenaline rushes—something I never experienced unless I used my magic . . . until I’d met Nevan. Every time his eyes turned dark and heated, I felt that same zing my magic gave me, my whole body thrumming with it. Every time his ears turned red, I felt it. Every time he smiled or laughed, I felt it. Every time he grabbed my hand, I felt it.

It was Nevan. Everything about this man made me feel alive for the first time in centuries.

I swallowed thickly as I pointed my hands at the mud and commanded my magic toward it. Sparkling green swirls careened in the mud’s direction, tunneling into it and forming a funnel. I twisted my hands, and the mud slowly traveled up the funnel until it looked like a tornado of green and brown swirling in circles.

Slowly the mud traveled upward from the pit, sucked into the tornado. It revealed more and more of Nevan’s arm, his head, his neck, until I could see the entire upper half of his body. His eyes were caked closed, his form limp and motionless.

I shoved both hands to the side, and the tornado flew away from the mud pit and over the bog, dissipating as the heavy mud fell with a splat.

“Nevan!” My legs were wobbly and my head was throbbing from that small use of my powers.

Spots dotted my vision, and I blinked until they disappeared. I hadn’t even used that much magic, but I supposed that was what happened when you barely touched your powers. It was like exercising. You lost the strength and stamina you’d built up.

Despite my weakness, I had to get to Nevan, to pull him out and to know he was okay.

I crawled forward into the mud. I’d removed enough water with my tornado that it was no longer like a vortex, sucking us in, but it was still sticky and hard to navigate with my weakened muscles.

The spots returned to my vision, making Nevan a blurry mess, but I finally reached him. I looped my arms under his armpits and heaved him up, using all my strength. He hardly moved. If he was awake and conscious, he could possibly get himself out, but I wasn’t strong enough to pull him.

I let out a sob of frustration and pounded a fist on the mud.

“Nevan,” I croaked. “Nevan, you have to wake up.”

My vision went sideways, and I fell to my side, head lolling as I clung desperately to consciousness.

“Nevan,” I said again as my vision blurred. “I’m so sorry for failing you.”

And that was the last thing I remembered before I fell into darkness.

CHAPTER 36

Enid