The *** and the Parliament

Skating was my favorite human pastime. Much like when I was flying, the wind disheveled my hair, and my surroundings flashed past in a blur. I loved the freedom I felt when on my skateboard.

With a free hand, I reached up and tore the skeleton key off my neck. The chain slid off and landed on the pavement behind me. Examining the key, I remembered how pretty I had thought it was. Now, it just looked cheap and tacky. I tossed it into the grass beyond the sidewalk and instantly felt even freer.

* * *

An hour later, Elliot and I were in my attic bedroom at Aunt Lu's, lounging and refueling with soft drinks. Elliot had explained some of the protection spells he'd used on himself and his home, and I'd fixed his glasses (except the one broken lens, that is) so he and I could read his books together.

"These spells seem pretty strong," I commented, "but they're not good enough. It doesn't matter how hard you study these books; you're dead when that demon wants you."

"I know," Elliot said. "If only I wasn't such a goddamn pussy..."

"If you were a pussy, you would have died a long time ago," I told him. "It takes a lot more guts to beat this thing for as long as you did than to just give it what it wants. You're not a pussy, Elliot. You're a hero."