“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.
The Darks took a step back in unison.