Soman Chainani

Then she saw Agatha. “You there! No smirking!

CALL THAT THING OFF!” Tedros yelled as he deflected Grimm’s arrows into the well with his training sword.

Tedros smiled. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”
She fainted in his arms.

“I’m completely happy on my own. I don’t need a boy, so don’t make it sound like I do. Nor do I believe in love at first sight anymore or even true love for that matter. Not after Teddy and Rafal taught me that loving any boy only leads to them disappointing you once you realize that they’re boring or immature or an axe murderer. But this boy came out of nowhere when I least expected it and even though he didn’t say we’d meet again, I keep thinking about how nice it’d be to have a proper date where he picks me up and I wear my furs and boots and we dine on coq au vin so I can ask what his father does for a living and what he does when he’s not saving people and why he liked me in our fairy tale when I behaved quite badly most of the time, but . . .” She sank into the pillows. “I can’t really like him. I don’t even know his name.”

“And that is how a witch is felled,” Tedros whispered to Agatha. “Gourmet dining.”

Agatha nuzzled into his chest as they watched Sophie and Rhian kissing intensely.

“I remember when we were like that,” Agatha sighed.

“What do you mean ‘were’?” said Tedros, sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her as he carried her.

“Oh, put me down,” said Agatha.

“You told me to put you down when I carried you at school and then you fainted and Sophie turned into Satan and we almost died,” said Tedros, clasping her tighter. “So request denied.”

Agatha relaxed in his arms. “I love you, Tedros.”

“I love you, Agatha.”

You’re still pretty.”

“Our towers aren’t Fair and Lovely!” Agatha lambasted. “They’re Valor and Honor! That’s what Good is, you stupid cowards!”

Sophie appealed to Tedros. “I was a good friend to you, wasn’t I? A friend like that could never be a witch! Tell her!”

“A good friend? A friend built on lies isn’t a friend,”

Agatha shook her head, torn between pity and anger. “It was you, Sophie. It was always you.”

“I’m sorry . . . for everything I did . . .” Sophie wept, writhing in pain. “But I’m not this!”

“You can’t be here anymore, Sophie,” Agatha said, misting up. “We’ll only be happy apart.”

as if she was incomplete without Agatha and Agatha incomplete without her.

It was her friends’ lives or her own.