Resistance, I mouthed to myself. What were they resisting? The Darks? Dimitri hadn’t said anything about— “Let me tell you something about him,” Caleb said, taking a step forward. Brant forced Katya to take an answering step back, her feet almost to the cliff’s edge. “You have placed him upon a pedestal that he does not deserve. I would know. He murdered my mother for doing nothing but wanting the truth to be shown to the world. He has abandoned you. He has left you to this life. The man you all think of as your savior is a ghost. Verania called out for help, and he turned his back on you. Not that I blame him.” Caleb shrugged. “You people shunned him. And then he left you all behind to suffer. Trust me. He’s not coming for you. No one is.”
“Sam of Wilds will come back,” Katya said defiantly. “And when he does, you’ll be sorry.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered into the grass. “She’s talking about me. I need to hug her so bad right now for at least fourteen minutes. Sweet molasses.”
When one stumbles upon people in peril accosted by repugnant villains and then hears one’s name said in reverence, one tends to get a pretty hard-core power boner. I knew that when I made my entrance, it was going to need to be epic, and I would have to have the best catchphrase the world had ever known. I wanted to make my superfans swoon.
“Sam of Wilds is no more,” Caleb said. “I tire of you both now. Whatever you’ve taken, we’ll just pick off your corpses. I’m thinking your sword will do just nicely. Jerome, would you please?”
One of the Dark wizards next to Caleb took a step forward. He raised his hands, fingers twitching, mouth moving with words I couldn’t hear. His brow furrowed a little as he muttered under his breath. I could feel the sharp ping of his magic gathering, and it was weak and sickly, but Brant’s sword still jerked from his hand, causing him to grunt in surprise. The sword flipped toward the Darks until Caleb caught it by the hilt.
“That was a gift,” Brant growled.
“Crudely made,” Caleb said, hefting its weight a little. “But strong. You have materials. Interesting. And unexpected. Your armor shows ingenuity. It certainly fooled the Darks for a little while.” He glared at Jerome.
“Um,” Jerome said, shifting from foot to foot. “Okay. I can explain.”
“Please do.”
Jerome swallowed thickly. “They… told us. That. They were Darks. Right? And that they were blacksmiths hawking their wares? And had designed the armor themselves. And that it was the latest thing in Dark fashion.”
“And you fell for it.”
“I didn’t fall for it,” Jerome said, wiping sweat from his brow.
“You put in an order for four sets,” another Dark said. “Not that you would know anything about Dark fashion, seeing as how you dress like a homeless hooker addicted to mushrooms.”
“I did not order four sets!”
“I was literally standing right there when you said it.”
Another Dark groaned. “Oh, here we go again. I thought we’d gotten over you using that word! Why do you insist upon saying it all the time.”
Godsdammit. Not these fucking assholes again. I wanted make their nipples explode.
“I literally don’t do that. In fact, I resent the implication that—”
“Maybe if you had eaten breakfast today, you could have—”
“You know how I feel about breakfast! Why do you keep trying to change me—”
“Enough,” Caleb snapped.
“Eep,” all the other Darks said.
Caleb took a step toward Brant and Katya. “I am done with this. Your time has come. I thank you for your service. Because in the end, you will be an example for the rest of the Resistance. Morgan of Shadows is gone. Randall is gone. Sam of Wilds is gone. They are nothing but memories of a Veranian past. And soon, even that will fade. I promise you.”
“He’ll stop you,” Katya said, still rebellious. “Maybe not with us, not now, but he’ll stop you. Myrin will fail. I know this. I know this because I believe in Sam of Wilds.”
My magic sang.
I gathered it around me. The greens. The golds.
It felt like coming home.
Caleb grinned. “Let him come. We’ll be waiting.”
He raised the sword.
Brant turned and pulled Katya against him, shielding her. “Close your eyes,” I heard him murmur as my blood began to hum just underneath my skin. “We’ll cross the veil together. It’ll be okay. Just close your eyes.”
She trembled.
It was about that time that I’d had enough.
Because fuck Caleb right in his fat fucking mouth.
I stood up.
And said, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a real pretty pickle of a situation here, don’t we?”
Everyone turned to me.
“Godsdammit,” I groaned, knowing the hood hid my face. “Okay, look. Can I try that again? I don’t know why I said pickle out of all things. Like, I’ve been sitting here almost this whole time, and I could have come up with something different. Because pickles are disgusting—which is strange, because I like cucumbers. Like, why is that a thing? Regardless, I don’t know why I used it like that. Pretty pickle, even. I’m a little rusty at the whole talking to other people thing, so you’ll have to forgive me.”
Everyone stared at me.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s try that again. Okay, so, you fucktard villains were all like, argh, I’m gonna monologue and say stupid things about stuff, and then Katya and Brant were all like, Sam of Wilds will come save us because he’s so cool and handsome and everyone thinks so and I like his hair and his face and the way he waltzes.”
“I didn’t say that,” Katya said. “Any of that, really.”
“Um, pretty sure that’s what you were implying. And I mean, it’s true, obviously. Sam of Wilds is cool and handsome and has a great face and hair and does a mean waltz. Also, he is a very generous lover.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Katya said. “I don’t know that I’d want to know that. He’s a little… I don’t know. Skinny? For my tastes. I like them thicker.”
“You like them what?” Brant asked, sounding outraged. “You are sixteen years old. You are not allowed to like anyone.”
Katya rolled her eyes. “Oh gee, you’re right. I don’t know why I thought otherwise. I’m so glad I have my big brother here to point out that I am incapable of having my own thoughts. Whatever would I do without you.”
“Holy fucking sass master,” I breathed.
“What?” Caleb said, frowning.
I coughed. “Uh. Nothing. Nothing. Okay. So, we’re doing this again. Villains, blah, blah, blah, Katya and Brant, Sam of Wilds is amazing and wonderful and has super cool knuckles—”
“Literally none of that happened,” one of the Darks said.
“It’s like you’re doing it on purpose,” another Dark muttered.
“—and here we are now, with Caleb holding his sword up, getting ready to hack innocent people to death and—Caleb? Can you… can you hold the sword up again? You’re not doing it right, and it’s really annoying.”
“Who are you?” Caleb asked, eyes narrowed.
“Your worst nightmare,” I said. “Which! Is not the line I want to use, so hold up the godsdamn sword.”
He raised the sword above Brant and Katya.
“Epic!” I said, popping my neck and wiggling the stress from my shoulders. “Now we’re talking. Okay, Katya, I need you to say what you said again. About the whole believing in Sam of Wilds thing.”
She frowned at me. “Um. Okay? I believe in Sam of Wilds.”
“Wow. You didn’t sound like you meant that at all.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“You need to sell it. Pretend your life is in mortal peril here!”
“It is,” Caleb said. “I’m about to stab them.”
“Right. Katya, come on! You’re about to get stabbed.”
“What the hell is this?” Brant asked.
“Oh no!” Katya said, sounding like the world’s most terrible actress. “My life is in mortal peril because of the stabbing. I believe in Sam of Wilds!”
“Better,” I said. “I’ll have some notes on your performance, but we can talk about that later. But as a teaser, you came off wooden and unbelievable, and I wouldn’t cast you in any play I’d put on for a summer theater. Caleb, your final threat?”
“I am going to… kill? Them?”
I squared my shoulders as a gust of wind blew over me, causing my cloak to billow around me. “Oh my fucking gods,” I whispered. “I look so cool. C’mon, Sam. Dazzle them with an awesome catchphrase.” I cleared my throat and raised my voice. “Well now, what do we have here? It seems as if we’re in a pretty pickle of a—godsdammit!”
“Enough,” Caleb snarled. And he heaved the sword down toward Brant and Katya.
One moment I was standing near the tree line, and the next I was crouched in front of Brant and Katya, forearm raised, the sword smashing into it with a loud thock! I gritted my teeth against the vibrations down my arm.