Sadistic pleasure gleams in Koschei’s green eyes as he watches me dangle in front of him.
His grip on my neck is cutting off all air and crushing my trachea.
Based on my encounter with drowning and my training for a water escape, I know I don’t have much time.
Desperately channeling all my martial arts lessons, I aim a punch at Koschei’s face with my right fist.
My knuckles connect with his jaw, and my hand feels like I broke it.
Wincing, he tries to smack me with his free hand.
Just as Thalia had taught me, I block his blow with my right forearm. Something cracks, but I ignore the pain and punch him with the left fist at the same time as I kick with my legs.
Face contorted by an ugly grimace, Koschei squeezes my neck even harder. I think he intends to break it in order to speed up my demise.
Leaning in, he whispers, “I didn’t think I’d enjoy this so much. You’re—”
I’ll never know what he was going to say because I choose that moment to attempt one last gambit.
Just as I’ve practiced so many times for my needle-swallowing effect, I spit out the needle from Buyan, aiming for the bastard’s right eye.
The needle goes into Koschei’s iris like an icepick into Jell-O—and as soon as it does, the still-exposed part of the needle begins to glow.