Of Enemies and Endings

by Shelby Bach

  “He never laughed at me,” Sarah Thumb added softly. “When I told him I wanted to learn to fight, he taught me. He never said I was too small. He showed me how to coat my needle in poison.”

  It wouldn’t end with Hansel. We would burn more bonfires before the war ended.

  I wished I knew how to stop it.

  Sarah Thumb and Mr. Swallow flapped off. The other kids in my grade drifted toward the overstuffed armchairs. Both stepsisters were crying. Candice and Conner too, but they were trying to hide it.

  I almost went with them.

  Then I spotted someone standing alone in the line snaking out from the Wall’s front door. The shock of seeing him there, looking weary and shaken, drove everything else away from my mind.

  “Dad?” I said.

  He raised his head and spotted me. He opened his arms and I ran into them.

  “You came,” I whispered. He’d come when I thought I would have to face this without my family. He’d come even though I’d skirted around all of them on purpose, trying not to involve them in what wasn’t their fight. I thought if anyone came to check on me, it would be Brie, my mom, or maybe Amy.

  “Of course. He was my teacher too.” Dad fished a tissue out of his pocket—crumpled but clean. That was the nice thing about my father. He never minded when I cried. “And the way I heard it, he saved my daughter’s life.”

  I swallowed hard. Hansel had saved us all. People crowded up behind us as the line moved forward.

  When I didn’t answer, Dad added, “You really cared about him, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. I didn’t realize how much. Not until he was gone. “I was helping him with his class.”

  “He made it sound like it was your class,” Dad said. “He said you were a natural teacher. He’d never seen someone learn so fast or work so hard. He was proud of you.”

  Hansel had never told me. Until this year, I’d never thought he noticed.

  “I used to hate him,” I whispered. “Or I thought I did.”

  Dad nodded. “Funny how people can surprise you. You learn a little more about them, and it changes everything.”

  I stayed with Dad until he reached the wall. Then I headed over to the overstuffed armchairs where the others had gone. Some of them had grabbed breakfast from the table, but no one was eating. The stepsisters, Daisy, and Paul sipped coffee. Lena and Kyle sat beside each other, their hands not quite touching, their fingers only an inch apart.

  They felt hollow too. I saw it on their faces. It was a small comfort, but it was still comfort. Together, we watched the line move.

  The sun climbed, and clouds closed overhead.

  When the line began to dwindle, I remembered it was Sunday. My students had staff class.

  Chase found us approximately two seconds after that. “You have to let me explain.”

  “We really don’t.” It was shocking—the sheer amount of anger that could fill me in the space of a breath. It squeezed out every other emotion. It made me miss the hollowness.

  I glanced around, searching for Adelaide. I spotted her across the courtyard. It looked like she was arguing with Rapunzel. Good. I hoped Rapunzel was telling her off.

  No one else spoke. The stepsisters were glaring at Chase. Paul just stared. The triplets weren’t even acknowledging him. They scowled ahead, arms folded. Lena turned to me, totally unsure.

  “I’m telling you,” Chase said. His face was getting red, like it does when he’s really mad. “I left my room, all suited up, and then bam! I’m in this restaurant. The mission completely fell out of my mind.”

  He forgot? That was his excuse? I didn’t think my anger could grow, but it did. I wondered if the words “I’m sorry” had even crossed his mind. “You don’t get it. We don’t owe you anything.” Dad had been right. Chase hadn’t been a good friend to me, not for months, and I couldn’t even stand the sound of his voice right then.

  “I was sick of you and Adelaide before this, but now I’m just . . .” Tina drifted off, trying to think of a strong enough word.

  “Done,” said Vicky.

  “I can’t believe you’re not going to say anything about Hansel,” said Candice, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Isn’t today about him?”

  “You should have just said you weren’t coming,” said Kevin, “if dinner was more important to you.”

  “It’s not just Hansel,” Kyle said, his voice low and furious. “Even without Jimmy, it was bad. Goblins almost captured our parents.”

  Lena didn’t say anything, but she didn’t stick up for him either. Neither did I.

  “Something is wrong.” Chase forced the words out, like his tongue had forgotten how to deliver an apology. “With me.”

  I couldn’t believe that was all he had to say. “No one’s arguing with you there.”

  “Listen, Rory—” Chase started again.

  “No!” I stomped over and glared up at him, letting him see how angry I was. I gestured to our friends, who had just told him exactly what he needed to hear. “You’re the one who should be listening. It’s the least you could do.”

  He tried to say something else. His jaw worked, like he had something stuck in his teeth, and his scowl deepened. If that was all he could offer us, I was done with him too.

  I walked away, toward Hansel’s training courts. “I have to go to class.”

  Then I remembered: they weren’t Hansel’s courts anymore. He’d never enter them again. He’d never teach another student.

  No way could it be like a normal class. No way would anyone even show up, but I still had to go. Their teacher was dead, and I was the only thing they had left.

  A hand closed over my elbow, and I jumped, my breath hissing over my teeth. I knew who it was even before I turned to look.

  “Class is going to be hard enough today,” I told Chase. “Leave me alone.”

  Sympathy flickered across his face. His mouth pulled down at the corners, the same stupid lips that had been kissing Adelaide while Hansel was dying. Finally, a sign that he felt crappy about it too.

  “I can’t.” With a trace of his usual self—the guy who could joke about anything—Chase added, “You’re stuck with me.”

  I stared at him, breathless. Ice invaded my insides again. My lungs had frozen over, my heart speared through.

  He’d said something like that before. Just once, after Iron Hans had explained what a Triumvirate was and how Chase, Lena, and I made up the newest one. It had comforted me then, knowing that whatever we faced, we could face it together.

  But it was like he knew what I’d been telling myself all summer. He knew why I kept giving him second chances—he knew that I needed him to defeat the Snow Queen. We were stuck in this together, and so he thought he could treat me however he wanted.

  For the first time, I hated being part of the Triumvirate.

  “At least I’m not stuck with you for much longer,” I snapped. “By the end of the month, we won’t need a Triumvirate anymore.” By the end of the month, my Tale would be over—one way or another.

  I yanked my arm out of his grip and slammed through the iron-studded door to the training courts.

  I hadn’t expected so many people, and I hadn’t expected some of them at all. The Aladdin representative, for instance. He wasn’t standing with the rest of Chase’s group. He stood in front of Gretel’s sword class, speaking to them with a grave look on his face. I didn’t expect to see my mother, either. I definitely didn’t expect to see her paying attention. She was so focused on what Aladdin was saying that she hadn’t noticed me yet.

  “Hansel named replacement teachers in his will.” Chase had entered behind me. “It took most of last night and some of this morning, but I convinced the Director to keep the classes going like normal, even today. It helps people after, to keep their regular schedule. It’s what Hansel would have wanted.”

  This was why it was so hard to stay mad at Chase. He could let me down spectacularly, but he was always doing someth
ing. I’d been—what? Wallowing outside with the rest of our grade. Meanwhile, he’d been making sure all Hansel’s students had someplace to come after the funeral.

  “The Aladdin representative is just filling in until Gretel feels ready to come back,” Chase continued. “Hansel would have given you the staff class outright, but he knew the Director wouldn’t go for that. If you suggest anyone, the Director’s supposed to consider it, but for now, he picked Amya to teach your class.”

  I spotted Lady Aspenwind. She was standing beside a row of metal wolves. She wore boots and a chain-mail tunic. A staff rested against her shoulder.

  That didn’t explain why all her new students had formed a ring in the middle of the training courts or why Chase’s group had joined them or why they were both careful to leave an empty space in the middle. Even the Fey looked like they were waiting for something interesting.

  I didn’t see Amy; at least she was sleeping in.

  “There you are,” said Kenneth.

  “We thought you forgot,” Kelly said. I was surprised to see real hope on her face, and on Priya’s. “You did, didn’t you?”

  “Of course not,” Chase said, so smoothly that I knew he was lying. “The demonstration duel.”

  It had completely slipped my mind.

  Lady Aspenwind shrugged. “I don’t think they could focus on anything else this morning.”

  “Then it’s settled.” Chase drew his sword.

  A halfhearted cheer went up from the younger staff students.

  It was not settled. “No way. Not today.”

  “It’s just sparring,” Chase told me. “We spar all the time. Plus, this way, I’ll still be close enough to talk to you.”

  He still wasn’t listening to anyone. “If you want a demonstration, we should use dummies. Someone could get hurt.”

  “They want to see us fight. Even Hansel wanted to see it. One of the last requests he ever made,” Chase said.

  He had no right to bring that up, no right to twist my grief just so he could get his way.

  Chase didn’t exactly meet my eyes. He knew he’d crossed a line but he pushed anyway. “So I’ll just go easy on you.”

  He didn’t understand. All my anger wanted to destroy something, and he was such a tempting target. “I’m not worried about you hurting me,” I said.

  To his group, Chase added, “We’re going to start right now.” Then, in the space of a breath, his sword flashed toward my face. My response was automatic: I ducked under the blow, stepped close, and swung out with my left fist.

  I barely stopped in time. I could feel Chase’s breath on my fingers, my knuckles just an inch from his mouth. You wouldn’t have known he was shocked unless you knew to look for the way he rocked back on his heels. “Ready to change your mind about the dummies?” I asked, shaking with fury.

  He thought it over. “You don’t need to be calm. You just need to hear me out.”

  Unbelievable.

  “Ring off, please,” said Lady Aspenwind, who apparently had a lot more sense than her son. “As a safety measure only, to appease Chase’s worrying mother.”

  She didn’t need to tell me twice. I ripped it off and thrust it into Priya’s hands. “Take care of this for me,” I said. She and Kelly looked positively delighted at the idea.

  “Beginners learn only the techniques,” said Lady Aspenwind. “Past that stage, a fighter develops a unique style. Chase trained Rory for years, but notice how different their styles are. Rory, for instance, uses her fists and feet more often than Chase.”

  She was making up a lesson out of the fact that I’d almost smashed a West Wind–powered punch into her son’s jaw. So that was where Chase got his poker face from.

  “Again, please,” said Lady Aspenwind.

  Chase came at me again. Two high strikes I could dodge and then a low one aimed at my legs—I had to use my sword to deflect that one. “The whole thing is so screwed up,” he said. “I don’t remember how I got to that dinner. I don’t even remember how we started dating. I sure as dioslik didn’t ask Adelaide out,” he said, cursing in Fey. “Something is wrong with me.”

  All that buildup about needing to talk to me, and he wanted advice on how to deal with Adelaide?

  It was his mess. He could clean it up on his own.

  I struck out with a snap kick. It would have caught him in the stomach if he hadn’t used his wings to leap clear.

  The Fey in green armor glanced from Chase to my weapon. “The sword is helping her. Not a fair fight.”

  Lady Aspenwind shook her head. “The magic doesn’t work like that.”

  I didn’t need some idiot thinking I was basically cheating on top of everything else. I turned to George and pointed at the sword in his hand. He handed it over wordlessly and took mine. He looked kind of disturbed.

  The balance was different, the blade thicker and longer than I was used to, but my sword had been too big for me in the beginning too. Chase let me have a few experimental swings before he swooped down at me. His next blow was a Fey move, full of flourishes and ridiculously easy to block. Without the ring, it was slightly harder to grab Chase’s ankle and swing his flying momentum off course. He tumbled across the mats and popped back onto his feet, breathing hard.

  My younger students began to chant, “Rory! Rory! Rory!”

  Some of the older kids pumped their fists in the air. “Chase! Chase!”

  “Chase prefers much movement, much offense,” Lady Aspenwind said, still teaching. “Rory will defend herself while waiting for an opening.”

  Chase came close again, and before I could dodge, he locked swords with me. He was stronger and heavier. All he had to do was press, and I started bending, back toward the mats. It hurt.

  “I don’t remember . . . a lot,” he said very slowly, like every syllable took concentration. “It’s like Adelaide has this power over me. When she’s around, my mind goes kind of fuzzy. Sometimes, everything else just slips away.”

  Something slammed shut inside me. I did not want to hear how Adelaide made him feel.

  “It’s not like me. It’s not—” Chase continued.

  “Stop! I refuse to listen to this right now.” I dropped George’s sword and rolled to the side. Chase had leaned too far. He staggered. I scooped up my blade.

  “However, in her own way, Rory favors risk. It is bold to drop your weapon in the middle of a battle,” Lady Aspenwind pointed out to the class. If she hadn’t been Chase’s mom, I might have told her to cut the commentary.

  “I spotted another difference: Rory talks less when she’s fighting,” Priya said.

  “Yeah, that’s usually true,” Chase admitted. “Unless she’s yelling at me.”

  I would have yelled at him a lot more if our students weren’t watching. I wondered how many of them knew something had gone wrong between us. Not too many, because the crowd went back to whooping and chanting.

  Then Chase whispered, “I thought we had so much time. I thought it would be easier for us, being friends—”

  We had so much time? But dating Adelaide, it was better to rush?

  He was wrong. I’d been running out of time all summer, and Chase had barely spent any of it with me.

  That was the answer to Lena’s question. That was why I was really mad.

  Chase stabbed toward my left shoulder. It was a feint. He always feinted left before he tried to slash at someone’s feet.

  “We’re not friends right now,” I said.

  He swung low, and I stamped down on his blade, ripping the hilt from his hands.

  He could have tackled me to get his sword back. He could have knocked my legs out from under me. He didn’t try to do either, so I rested my blade against his throat.

  The whole room had gone silent.

  My fury drained away. I wanted to send them all out of the room—I didn’t want anyone witnessing Chase like this.

  I’d never seen that look on his face, not even when he found out how his brother had died in the Snow Q
ueen’s dungeons. I’d never seen him look so pale and defeated.

  I still cared, no matter how angry I got. I knew, because I hated myself for hurting him.

  “Then what are we, Rory?” he whispered. “You know me better than anyone else in the world. If we’re not friends, what are we?”

  I wanted to take back what I’d said, but my voice was trapped in my throat.

  A muscle worked in Chase’s jaw. His whole expression darkened, like now he couldn’t stand me either. He picked up his sword and walked away. The crowd scurried out of his path, and the door slammed behind him.

  I’d never won a match against Chase before. I wished I still hadn’t.

  When Lady Aspenwind spoke again, it sounded like she was accusing me too. “While Chase’s strength lies in being able to battle many opponents at once, Rory is a born duelist. She can read an opponent, no matter how skilled, and target his weaknesses without fail.”

  Even though I wasn’t sure that it was true, I said, “He threw the fight.”

  Lady Aspenwind didn’t agree or disagree. As Chase’s group drifted away toward some dummies and prepared to practice without him, the new staff instructor turned to her class. “Now, tell me what maneuver you wish to learn, and I shall adapt it for a staff wielder.”

  Chase never came back to the training courts.

  Snow White needed an escort for her trip to meet the gnomes in Avalon, and Jack—the guy in charge of the mission—had picked Chase and a few others to come with them. I found out, because Jack sent Rufus to pull George and Ben out of class.

  I tried so hard not to feel bad. I tried to believe that Chase had deserved what I’d told him.

  But it nagged at me. I knew I’d gone too far. I wondered how long it would be until I could apologize. After class finally ended, Lady Aspenwind didn’t discuss it with me like Hansel might have. She didn’t even look at me. She flipped open her wings and flitted to the doorway, flying over the crowd so that she could be the first one out. I was pretty sure that was the Fey version of a cold shoulder, and at first I was angry. I’d said the duel wasn’t a good idea. Chase and his mom had forced me to go through with it anyway.