Of Enemies and Endings Read Free Page B

said the gray-haired witch. “Release the combs, and surrender to us. We will let the woman go free. It is your death we seek, after all.”
    It was a trick. It had to be.
    But maybe it wasn’t.
    My Tale had begun two years ago. The beginning lines hadn’t changed that much: Once upon a time, there was a girl named Rory Landon. Though she did not know it, the fate of magic would fall into her hands during the month she turned fourteen. With it, she would meet winter, death, and despair.
    Maybe the hail counted as winter. Maybe despair was finding myself down to two choices: my death by surrender or my death and Amy’s by fire.
    No. I could ask them for a Binding Oath. I could make them swear on their lives that Amy would go free, and it would all be over.
    My expression must have given me away, because Amy began shaking her head. “No. Rory, don’t you dare—”
    The door creaked open again. More feet thundered in. The witches’ archers had arrived.
    We were trapped. Help wasn’t coming. I knew my choice.

hen a new voice said, “The EASers are here.”
    My heart leapt. I hadn’t even needed to ask for help. My friends had come anyway, warding hex or no warding hex.
    â€œThen we must do our work quickly!” said the gray-haired witch. The witches launched their weapons. The air filled with silver snowflakes, their sharp barbs sparkling.
    Amy screamed again. I yanked up the shield, over our heads. Two throwing stars clattered against the lid. Half a dozen more fell on the floor inches from our feet.
    Too many more assaults like that, and something was going to hit us.
    â€œThis isn’t how it works,” Amy muttered. “I’m the adult. I’m supposed to protect you .”
    â€œWhat are you waiting for, archers?” said the gray-haired witch. Oh great. I couldn’t see the new arrivals, but I bet they all had bows. They were probably trained to fight, just like Istalina. I braced myself.
    Then the glass window above the kitchen table shattered. I half stood, risking a peek over the island to see what was going on. Two arrows sailed in, tiny little packets tied to their shafts. They landed, releasing great puffs of a green-and-gold powder. It glittered and stank of sulfur.
    The witches coughed and choked. “Powdered dragon scales?” croaked the gray-haired one. “Why?”
    Another arrow flew in. I stood on my tiptoes to get a better look. The arrow had landed right in the middle of all the witches. Someone had tied some sticks to it. The string they’d used looked weird, like a braid of brown hair with a blue bead at the end.
    Lena’s hair.
    I knew what it was. I’d seen Lena experimenting on long-range spells like this one, modeled after the transmitter General Searcaster had fashioned in the city of the Living Stone Dwarves. The powdered scales in the air made it impossible to dodge the enchantment.
    She had them.
    Then my friend’s clear, high voice rang out, shouting in Fey. I didn’t have my gumdrop translator in, so I only understand one word: “beep.”
    â€œDid it work?” It sounded like Lena was at the bottom of the porch stairs.
    The witches stared at each other in horror, waiting to turn to stone or sea foam, waiting to writhe in agony.
    â€œWhat was it supposed to do?” I called back.
    â€œLena, you forgot the buzzer,” said someone else outside. Kyle.
    â€œWe will not be defeated by a bunch of Character children.” The gray-haired witch took a step toward the bars, toward us .
    â€œOh, yeah,” Lena said. An alarm beeped, almost identical to a kitchen timer.
    All at once, the witches’ eyes rolled back in their heads. Then they dropped, collapsing all over each other. Weapons scattered across the wooden floor. I hoped none of them had fallen on their blade. Then I immediately felt stupid for worrying. They’d just tried to kill me. They’d tried to kill