“The Chosen aren’t the only ones with magic. Maybe the answer lies elsewhere.”
Ronan followed her gaze, his brows lifting. “What are you hinting at?”
“The Guardians have the ability to manipulate the essence of any living thing. Surely they can do something about the corruption.”
“Don’t you think they would have by now if it was that easy?”
Effie shrugged. “They might not know how without being tainted themselves, but that doesn’t mean they can’t. We just need to help them figure out how.”
“You don’t give up once you set your mind to something, do you?” Ronan asked with a small chuckle.
Her answering grin was feral. “I wouldn’t be alive today if I gave in easily.”
His expression shifted, eyes darting back to her bruised wrists. “No, I don’t suppose you would be.”
Eyes still on Ronan, Effie didn’t notice the odd pile of branches until the sharp crack rent the air. With a yelp, she flew up, her ankle supporting her full weight as she flipped upside down and into the trees.
Three distinct voices screamed her name, sending birds fleeing their perches.
She watched, pain ratcheting through her leg, as Ronan reached for her. Effie’s arm strained as she tried to grasp either of his proffered hands, but she was moving too fast, and soon all there was in every direction was a sea of green.
Now having a better idea about how Tess and Jo were taken, Effie knew there wasn’t a second to spare. She struggled to pull herself upright, clawing her way up her ensnared leg until her upper body was parallel with it. Not sure what to do with her other leg, she settled for keeping it curled into her chest.
Banding both arms around her extended leg, she used her arms to hold her in place and fought to catch her breath. The rush of blood to her head made her stomach roll, and she quickly started to shake, the position awkward and adding pressure to the place where the rope coiled around her ankle.
Searing pain lashed through her ankle, and she let out a low gasp. A quick check with one hand told her it wouldn’t be as easy as untangling the rope from her leg. There were jagged metal teeth woven through the coarse strands. Two of which had already dug deep into her skin, hot blood dripping down her leg and coating her fingers.
With a grunt, Effie glanced around. If she didn’t find another handhold, fast, she would soon be too slick with her blood to maintain her grip. The nearest branch was above her, not a far reach if she could manage to swing herself up a bit more, but tricky with the barbed pieces of metal jutting out from the rope.
Or she could risk dropping down.
Effie craned her neck, seeing the thick branch about a body’s length beneath her. If she could cut through the rope, she should be able to drop down onto the branch and perhaps scramble down the rest of the way.
Fingers trembling, she ran them along her leg, letting out a scream of frustration to find that her dagger had fallen free. Patting around to the other side of her body, Effie could have wept when her fingers ran over the sharp blade of her second one.
“Thank you,” she muttered, quickly working to free it from its sheath. The dagger slipped in her wet hand, and her breath caught as gravity tried to pry it out of her slippery grasp.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she growled, tightening her hand around the dagger’s hilt.
Effie’s relief was short-lived, however, as a new problem presented itself. To cut through the rope at her ankle, she had to find something besides her leg to hold onto. As it was, her fingers were already starting to slip along the leather of her pants. It was hardly an ideal handle. Furthermore, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to properly plan her drop down to the branch, and would be just as likely to crash all the way back down to the jungle floor below.
“Elder’s rotting rod,” she snarled, not immediately finding anything she could use.
The snap of a branch had her eyes darting to the left, but the shivering leaves were the only evidence that something—or someone—was coming for her.
“Hello?” she called, hoping that maybe it was one of the men coming to free her. It was a futile hope, and she knew it since they would come from below—not above—but it sprang forth all the same.
When there was no answer, Effie shifted her grip on the dagger, her decision made for her. There was no time to waste. A fall through the trees it would be. Hopefully she’d manage to grab hold of something on her way down. It was that or stay hanging here trussed up like some holiday goose. Neither was a great option, but of the two she preferred the former.
Grunting, she began sawing at the barbed rope in earnest. Its cords were tougher than she realized, the sharp blade of her dagger barely cutting through the first of the fibers when two more distinct cracks sounded just above her.
A heavy pressure settled in her chest, robbing her of breath. Effie didn’t dare look up as goosebumps erupted along her arms.
She was out of time.
Her moves grew frantic, blood dripping down her hand as more of the jagged metal pieces snagged into her soft flesh. Effie bit back a cry of pain, the surge of adrenaline spiking through her, helping her maintain her focus.
A low chittering sounded, and Effie grit her teeth.
It was here.
The rope was as thick as three of her fingers, she’d barely managed to cut through a third of it. She was completely and utterly fucked.
Heart pounding, Effie lifted her chin, her eyes scanning the leaves above her. She sucked in a ragged breath, her eyes widening as two faces pushed through the leaves, peering down at her with snaking eyes, their blood-stained teeth bared in savage smiles.
“Lookie what I caught for us, Tess. A plump little mousie.”
What had once been Tess licked her lips. “Delicious.”
Effie screamed, the sight of her missing friends so unexpected she lost her hold and fell back, her only weapon joining its twin in the jungle below. There was a sharp tug on her ankle as the metal dug in deeper and the rope once more held the entirety of her weight. Pain exploded behind her eyes.
“Look at the mousie dance,” Jo cackled as Effie swung from the rope.
“Stop playing with our food,” Tess snapped, her hoarse voice a sibilant hiss.
Another garbled scream was torn from Effie’s throat as the rope surged up, sending shooting pain all along her leg. Black fog swam at the edge of her vision, threatening to pull her under, but she fought against it. Freedom from the pain was a lovely thought, but unconsciousness would be the death of her.
More branches batted at her as she was pulled up through the trees until her bottom half was being dragged against a splintered wood floor. She could feel the creatures’ hands on her legs as they pulled the rest of her body into their treetop lair.
Bile burned in the back of her throat as Effie braced herself for what came next. This might be her last opportunity to even the playing field. Especially without a weapon.
Flexing her stomach muscles, Effie arced up, snapping the rest of her body into the darkness and using the momentum to crack her head into something that felt like stone.
There was a satisfying crunch and the spurt of something warm across her forehead as her head flew back. She wasn’t sure who or what she hit, but she hoped like hell it hurt them half as much as it hurt her.
“Mousie’s a bad girl,” a voice thick with blood sneered somewhere to her right.