This Will Be Fun

by E.B. Asher

The elderly man near the pie stand magicked streaming light into the sky, illuminating their path to the pub.

shadow-songbox,

halfway between who he was and who he wished he could be,

Yet here she stood, on a fucking float

Everyone except the very young knew unicorns weren’t real.

Many villagers remembered the fear in the streets every night of the Order’s stay. Beatrice understood why the village celebrated the Festival of the Four with corresponding zeal. If she ever found something capable of chasing off her nightmares, she would cling on to it for dear life.

We remember how the Fraternal Order, once known for nothing other than gaudy revels and investing farthings in each other’s castles, went from proud noblemen to conspirators out to overthrow our queen and destroy Queendom.”

Todrick van Thorn. The face of evil. Indeed, he was. Wide-smiling, raven-haired, devastatingly persuasive. The young nobleman’s unique gifts suited him grandly in the Order’s company. His head magic could rewrite reality in his vicinity, changing memories or enhancing, eliminating, or editing what was.

“They rode into battle and slew Todrick van Thorn! The sword was lost forever! Lycroft sent into hiding!”

Uh

Beatrice nodded. Elowen was correct.

You only need the first part

Unbeknownst to the rest of the Four, Beatrice had learned that the blood of a sacrifice, freely given, would quell the Sword of Souls.

“I made a confession,” she explained. “About how for years I had felt like your charity case. How it had weighed on me. How after that day, I would be done with you.”

knew it would hurt you to hear I wanted nothing more to do with you. It would be enough to keep you from seeking out the real truth I was concealing.” Her voice wavered like struck steel.

“Galwell saw through it, because he didn’t have my magic, so he wasn’t fooled the way I was.”

How tho

The strike would have slain her cleanly. It did not kill Galwell the Great cleanly. Larger and stronger, he had died slowly from the mortal wound—slowly enough that he could with his own sword impale the stunned van Thorn,

Lycroft, not far from the confrontation, had come upon them, he wept for his fallen friend—and his tears on the magical blade he had forged drained the Sword of Souls of its dark potency.

Sacrifice, she’d quietly realized, was not the only way the sword could lose its power. She’d made a horrible mistake. If Galwell had slain van Thorn in honest combat, the same ...

Elowen’s anger lived somewhere cold and damp inside her—a cave with endless pathways and no light coming through.

Vandra hit each man in the same spot on their lower leg,

Smart. You can question them

“How do I know you aren’t working for them?” she accused, pointing at the attackers Vandra had systematically taken down.

Lol the answer is right there

Vandra Ravenfall was cunning, and beautiful, and relentlessly social. She could never be limited to someone as prickly and sullen as Elowen True.

she kept one hand on the crossbow the Keralians had gifted the heroes while staring out the rear of the wagon.

Y tgey stare

Yet why did they fire to kill? she couldn’t help wondering.

Firing to hit is firing to kil

even one gala she’d graciously held for the Clare Grandhart Eagle Sanctuary.

He could not fend off wondering whether they were cursed. Perhaps whenever the three of them were together, they summoned tragedy.

She retreated to the throne, where she sat, staring out the high windows like she was searching for something she expected not to find.

“He would be better off if the queen’s guard went to save him.” He understood her frustrating logic—and

the future king,

Not how that works

enchanted candles lining the porcelain tub. They required no matches, only waving one’s hand near them for them to ignite.

Y

She commended Queen Thessia’s taste in literature.

Ma'am The queens bf is kudnapped

Near to her tub was a stool where one could sit while lacing up one’s shoes.

?

“Careful, Beatrice,” he warned finally. His gaze held hers. “We could pretend we’re nothing to each other all the way to you beneath me in your sheets.” She had no choice then except to dunk her head entirely underwater.

Lol

You weren’t imagining our future. You were doing the opposite, imagining the future you never expected to have.

Seems like a distinction without a difference

“You almost left me forever. Why do you care that I slept with someone else? If you’d succeeded, you would have consigned me to women who aren’t you for the rest of my life.”

thats different if shes actually dead

You said so yourself,” she reminded him, recalling their confrontation with the outlaws of the forest.

Oh that confrontation

his words revealed that what she’d done to him was exactly what he’d done to her. Kisses exchanged on the eve of destruction. He’d slept with her, expecting the Orb Weavers to eviscerate him. She’d pressed her lips to his, planning to sacrifice herself for the realm.

Did i miss the part where she hooked up with another man right after because he did after the funeral

Clare had no one except one-night stands when he’d sought his revenge on the Weavers. She had . . . friends. Family. Friends like family.

Whom she was trying to protect?

You told me long ago you didn’t think you could live alone forever in the trees, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave them. Now you have.

That wasnt her choice

queer couple

pubtender

mouthpaste

Who better suited than the Three?”

one-ode wonder,

ebullient

“The spell service here is terrible,”

I’d have joined you on the last quest. All you had to do was ask.”

“Worry not,” Vandra said.

She felt hungover. Which was frustrating, as, surprisingly, she wasn’t. Instead, four hours of sleep in the forest had left her feeling much the same way.

“looks like Vandra will be the hero this time.” Everyone followed her gesture. Yes, down the ravine, the erstwhile assassin was proceeding on her own, undoubtedly fed up with her questmates.

Lol does she even need them

Todrick van Thorn had looked villainous, with his rapier smile, his inky swoop of hair. Myke Lycroft—he looked like a hero.