Page 150 of Victorious

Sydney’s hand twitched on the shard of wood, and the illusion flickered, revealing that the knife was not really a knife. Just a bit of flimsy cardboard. Serena must have known it, too, the way one side of her mouth twitched up. Syd loosened her grip, and the house came back into focus as Eli drove the blade into Serena’s chest.

She looked down at it and sighed dramatically.

“Honestly, Eli,” she said, sounding more disappointed than annoyed.

The knife dissolved.

Realizing the attempt had failed, Eli surged out of the chair, and retreated, putting space between them as he reached for something at his back. A weapon, no doubt, but before he could draw it, Eli froze.

Literally.

Ice shone on the floor beneath him, surging up his body, sealing his boots to the ground and climbing his limbs, pinning them in place. He struggled, but it was no use. He couldn’t move.

“I’ve noticed,” said Serena, rising to her feet, “that since Sydney brought me back, my power hasn’t worked the same.” As she spoke, the ice continued spreading, wrapping like gossamer over his skin, his clothes. Sydney watched half in horror, half in amazement, as her sister imprisoned Eli in the ice.

He struggled, gasped.

“Serena—” he managed through clenched—no, frozen—teeth. But then she cocked her head and the ice closed like a hand over his mouth.

“At first, I admit, I found it pretty disconcerting. I was so used to using my words. But who needs words when you have this?

“I don’t need to tell you what to do when I can tell you what to see, and think, and feel. I don’t need to get inside your head when I can hold you inside mine.”

Frost covered Eli’s open eyes, turning them milky and white. He stood, frozen, in the center of the room. A statue. A tombstone.

Serena sighed, turning her attention back to Syd.

“Well,” she said. “That was unfortunate.”

The cake waited between them, the candles still burning. Serena clapped her hands, and turned Sydney back toward the table, hands heavy on her shoulders.

“Go on,” she said with sudden brightness. “And don’t forget to make a wish.”

Sydney tore her gaze from Eli’s body and blew the candles out.

IXNOW. THEN.

THE ice burned.

It didn’t matter that it was a dream.

Eli knew the cold wasn’t real, and yet he felt it, not just on his skin, but under it, as if his skeleton had frozen solid. And it hurt, a persistent pain he couldn’t heal from, couldn’t escape.

He felt like he was back on the table in Haverty’s lab. Pinned open like a moth, caught in a state of constant dying. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see through the frost that painted his eyes open. Couldn’t hear through the ice that muffled everything but the stubborn, ceaseless pounding of his heart.

If it had been ordinary ice, he might have been able to break through. But this was Serena’s world, and it obeyed her rules.

He was going to kill her.

He was going to kill them both.

Put the Clarke sisters back in the ground, where they belonged, and—

Feedback whined in Eli’s ear, high and sharp enough to pierce the veil. He flinched—and didn’t—his mind and body momentarily on different tracks, part of him still trapped in ice, the other part standing in a darkened building. The noise—the pitch, the pain—enough to briefly fracture the illusion.

“Eli, can you hear me?”

Gabriel.