I smiled, trying not to remember how much I loved him. Easier said than done.
“They say my mother came here once when she was a young Book Witch. Saved Sir Galahad from a whole legion of Burners who were trying to stop him from finding the Holy Grail.”
The Quest for the Holy Grail is a foundational story. Any book with a noble hero trying to find a magical object owes a debt of gratitude to the Holy Grail myth.
“How did she do it?” Duke asked.
“Supposedly she put herself between Galahad and the Burners and dared them to kill her to get to him. They would’ve happily slaughtered a fictional character, but killing a real girl? Well, they backed down and Galahad was saved.” I looked around as if I could spot my mother, young as me, maybe younger, peeking at us from behind one of the trees. “Can you imagine anyone that brave?”
“Of course.” He took off the crown of clover and dropped it on my head. “You.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
“You stood between me and that ghastly Burner X, did you not? You practically dared him to kill you to get to me. You’re more like your mother than you know.”
“Thank you. I don’t know if I believe you.”
“You should never doubt me. Ever.” He smiled.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I said. Then suddenly, I sat up. “Wait. Where’s Koshka?”
“There,” Duke pointed. “Hunting.”
In a thick patch of clover, I spotted Koshka, stalking a tiny field mouse.
“Koshka,” I scolded. “No eating the characters. Even the minor ones.”
He started to trot over to me, then stopped, turned around, arched his back, and puffed up like a Halloween cat.
“Koshka?”
“Oh, dear,” Duke said. “I’m afraid we have company.”
He pointed to a rider in the distance astride a black horse.
“That’s…not in the story,” I said. “Duke, hide.”
“Why?”
“It’s a Burner and you’re not supposed to be out of your books. Hide now.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone with—”
“So help me, LeVar Burton, if you do not hide in the woods right now, I’m locking you into the Eighth Circle of Hell in Dante’sInfernoand throwing away the key.”
Duke blanched. “I won’t hide…I will, however, conceal myself, and then leap out if you need me.”
The ground shook as the horse’s hooves beat on it, then its rider reined his mount to a halt in front of me. The rider wore a closed helmet, but when he lifted the visor, I recognized him at once.
X.
“Are you going to say ‘We meet again,’ or should I?” I asked him. My heart raced wildly, but I pretended I wasn’t bothered by his sudden appearance.
He only smirked. “You should smile more,” he said. “You’d look much prettier.”
I bared my teeth at him and growled.
“I’m trying to do you a favor, March,” he said.
