Three Kings

by Freydís Moon

“Absolutely nothing. I know what sorrow sounds like, though.”

“I’m not sure what you’ve done to me, what your magic’s done to me. But I don’t think I can handle ever hearing you like that again.

“Ethan tells me you’re quite a fisherman,” Nico said. Peter snorted, grinning sheepishly. “I caught you, didn’t I?”

“You’re the love of my life, Ethan Shaw,” he whispered, poking at a carrot at the bottom of his bowl. “That’ll never change.”

“And you’re mine, Peter Vásquez. Even when you bring home dead seals.” “Handsome seals,” Peter corrected. Ethan laughed, snorting like a schoolboy.

But when comfort ran dry with family and sermons stopped ringing true at church, people always found a witch.

“So, that was batshit.” “Bringing you back from the dead was batshit. What you just saw is a typical Friday.”