“You know, you’ve got this all wrong.” Aloysia glared at her unwanted visitor, who’d just burst into her tiny cabin in the heart of Germany’s Black Forest and announced his intention to “rescue” her.
The knight in shining armor stood in front of the twelve-year-old girl, his jaw slack, eyes bulging.
Honestly.
I linger in the shadows of the antechamber door. Of all the places a lady should never be, a dank, dark, and—I wrinkle my nose—malodorous cave tops the list.
You’ll chicken out. The mysterious peddler’s voice haunts me. Turn and run like the spoiled princess you are.
I clench my fist…
I really don’t like me.
That sounds harsh. What I mean is I don’t like past-Trudy who sacrificed herself and got me into this mess.
Could I see this other me doing the things Mr. Blue explained? Entering a bubble to save people I didn’t know? Or love? Yep. It tracks.
But that still
I clung to a thick rope, arms trembling as my breath rasped through my mask. The single torch high on the wall above me sputtered light at the deeper shadows of the night. A guard marched along the top of the wall, and his body briefly blocked the torchlight, but he was soon gone.
Read it now
Gray sky. Gray walls. Black iron gate.
“Do your magic, girl!” Shouts harsh as gravel. “Stop holding back. We know you can do it!”
Dirt brown boot, crunching into her side. Dung-colored ground.
Whimpering, Alia pressed into the corner. One of her captors seized her by the hair and dragged her forward…
I stormed up the narrow stair toward the storm-battered castle, the biting sea wind spurring me on.
“Princess, please wait!” my guard, Alloy, called.
Hearing my preferred title only stoked the fire.
The next stair crumbled beneath my boot, and I pitched sideways into open air. The world spun. I caught sight
Since graduating high school, I’d acquired the ability to identify poisons—without dying, important detail—saved the head of the council, learned about mystical evil Knights threatening our kingdom, been killed—poison again, I’m not immune—and rescued my true love on multiple occasions. You’d think that’d be enough to ask of any eighteen-year-old.
Read it now
I’ve just finished mopping the floor of the Decimator’s control room when two Second Class Henchmen walk in. The big goons leave muddy footprints all over the—formerly—shiny floor. I glare after them, but they don’t even notice me.
Typical.
No one notices me unless they slip on a wet floor, or—
“Again.”
The voice that reached Pulsar along the communications thread was neither impressed nor impatient.
Pulsar pivoted away from the smoldering target at the edge of the training field to face the figure near the far-off arsenal. “But Master U’drec—I executed the maneuver perfectly! Why—”
“Return to start position, Squire.”
Cyra, how will you do this?
I have no answer to give myself as I trudge across this scorching desert. I only know that I must try. Shimmering columns of heat rise before my eyes. I am tempted—so tempted—to discard the armor that protects my arms, chest, and legs.
Prince Wilfred would not hold still.
This made a trying task of threading tiny, shield-shaped buttons through delicate holes, but Edvin persisted. It was his duty to properly attire the teenaged prince for the coronation ceremony, despite Wilfred’s nervous fidgeting.
Footsteps padded closer. Edvin glanced to his left to see the sleek
Surrounded by shouting hagglers, I sweep my eyes over the market as we step into an abandoned tent. Back turned to the crowd, I rummage in my pack for the scroll. Passersby will only see a traveling swordsman and his student counting their coins before visiting the blacksmith’s booth.
“You’re my best student. Like
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