popped a Gummi Worm into her mouth. It squished as she bit down. Ew.
“So,” Joy said around the orange glob. “Everyone can see you?”
“Of course. When I activate the glamour,” Inq said.
“Right. So why did you tell him I didn’t want one?” Joy said around another Gummi. “That is exactly what I want for Ink!”
Inq gave an exasperated sigh and flapped her hands. “You don’t just come out and tell a wizard what you want! They’ll jack up the price. Haven’t you ever haggled before?”
Joy swallowed. “No.” The one time she’d gone to Mexico for an international gymnastics competition, she’d been too intimidated by the constant hawking and badgering to buy anything at the market.
“Well, trust me—walking away now will make things easier for you later. Right now, it’s too obvious that you want something. I figured I would help you get the ball rolling and if we started asking about glamours today, then by the third or fourth time, it will be like you were hypothetically asking.”
“So—hypothetically asking—how much does a glamour cost?”
“Depends on the wizard, but he likes you. I bet we can get you a discount!” Inq winked, and Joy couldn’t help but smile. What she wouldn’t give to have Ink be able to meet Monica, Stef and Dad! To be visible, to be a part of her world like she was part of his. All she needed was to buy him a glamour—it would be perfect!
“I’d want to make it a surprise if I can manage it,” Joy said, grabbing another worm. “Don’t tell Ink.”
Inq touched a finger to her lips. “It’ll be our little secret.” She smirked, delighted in the same way she’d been when she’d first brought Joy through time and space to her own surprise party for Lehman’s Day. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you back to work. Start saving those pennies!”
She spread her hand, and the air bowed around them in concentric ripples.
“Approximately how many pennies are we talking about?” Joy asked.
Inq patted her arm good-naturedly. “Think of it this way—it’s always good to have a lifelong goal.”
STEPPING OUT OF the void onto the asphalt behind Antoine’s back lot, Joy and Inq stopped laughing the instant Ink sprang up from the back steps and started toward them, worry and fury warring on his face.
“Where were you?” he said.
“Shopping,” Inq replied before Joy could breathe. While technically true, it wasn’t really the truth. Joy was amazed at how skillfully the Folk could twist words.
“Shopping?” Ink said. “You were gone and I thought...” He shook his head and turned to his sister, sounding strangely human. “It is dangerous for Joy to be out right now.” He gestured to the heavy back door. “I cannot ward a public place like this—there are too many people! And we have not heard back from the Bailiwick yet!”
“Better, then, that she was with me and not out on her own,” Inq said primly. “Isn’t it sweet how he worries about you?” She winked at Joy and made a big show of adjusting her corset. “You fret too much, Ink. Everything’s fine. You don’t have to wait on the Bailiwick to keep living your life. It’s not as if anyone’s foolish enough to try anything out here in the open in the middle of the day.”
Joy was about to say that this was exactly what had happened yesterday when she saw a rust-colored shape move from behind a parked car and the words died on her tongue.
The knight’s footsteps crunched on the pavement.
Joy backed away stumbling, knees jellied and mouth gaping open, tasting air.
Ink spun around. Inq’s hands blurred. The knight raised his weapon—a curved scimitar this time—and charged. Joy backpedaled against a nearby car and stumbled, the hot chrome bumper burning her leg. Ink stepped between them, straight razor raised. Inq’s right hand swept down, severing the knight’s blade from its hilt in a whine of sparks. The knight huffed and charged with the damaged half, a shard of razor-sharpness that caught the sun on its edge. Inq held her ground. Joy frantically fished for the scalpel, dropping the C&P bag, rooting around tubes of lip gloss and mascara. There was a dark blur of motion. Ink flashed past. The straight razor arced, but the knight swung, batting the blade from Ink’s hand. It clanged off a Dumpster and slid in the dirt.
Inq dived, humming fingers stabbing straight, but the knight dodged and wove beneath her arm. Gripping the end of his sword, he tried to drive the broken bit into Inq’s sternum. Joy grabbed her scalpel. Ink drew his black arrowhead. Inq’s hands stilled, fingers spread wide, the same moment that Joy lifted the scalpel and Ink punched through the armor, grabbing the knight’s elbow from behind. Joy stared as the metal mesh protecting the shoulder joint split, spitting broken links across the gravel in a gentle rain of rings. With a twist, Ink snapped the arm sideways, a sharp crack. The weapon dropped from the armored grip. His knees buckled. The knight heaved himself up and punched Ink in the throat. Ink’s face absorbed the blow and hardened like stone. Ink frowned and slashed the arrowhead down.
There was a splash of blood and a rough scream. Ink spat a word.
“Yield.”
Inq’s eyes widened, a wild smile on her lips. Joy backed away from the spatter of bright blood on cement.
The knight grunted and grabbed Ink’s shoulder with his good hand as if to tear it from the socket. Ink used both arms to trap the elbow and bend it back with a shriek of ruined metal. The knight’s arm pulsed another great gout of blood.
“Yield!” Ink said.
“I do not yield,” the knight grated from beneath his helmet.
Ink’s grip tightened. The armguard squealed.
“You will not touch her,” Ink said. “I swear it.”
“Then you, too, shall die.”
Rage lit Ink’s features, something pure and terrible; the hot neon light sparked like fire in his eyes. He shoved his knee forward, driving the arrowhead through the knight’s back. The knight crumpled, a sagging calm of junkyard noises as he sank to his knees. Armor hit ground in tumbling percussion as the body toppled over with a crash.
The sound broke something inside Joy—it was as if the world swam into sharp focus between one breath and the next. Ink stood over the body, barehanded and calm. Inq lifted her palms warily and took a step closer. The knight was a rumpled pile of red armor, its head wrenched sickeningly back. Joy couldn’t help staring where the helmet had lifted away from the neck. Pale skin peeked out from under the edge of the faceplate. No pulse beat there. It was very, very still.
Inq relaxed. “Well, that’s that.”
She touched her brother’s wrist. Something passed between them that snapped him out of his stillness. Ink flinched away with a dismissive gesture and looked back at Joy.
“Go
