“Are you ready?” he asked.
She glanced over at him and nodded, straightening her shoulders. “My enemies will be left broken, homes desolate, wishing they had never crossed paths with Emma Kingslayer.”
He looked over at her, amusement playing across his care-lined face. “You’d better not introduce yourself like that, Miss Emma Karnoble. Besides, this is eighth grade, not battle. Nobody here is out to steal your banner.”
Emma rolled her eyes, watching the houses go past the car in a multi-colored blur. “It is time to don the armor of daybreak, riding onward to a glorious victory. Now is not the time for your silly commoner ideas, for one must always be on their guard.”
Her dad smiled as they pulled up to the school. “Alright, my fair warrioress. Have fun.”
Emma nodded. Then, turning, she faced the school. It had wonderful, looming potential, its gray walls towering over her, but the effect was thoroughly wrecked by the cartoonish images painted along its length. Emma glared at one depiction of an alligator—its sickly smile feigning innocence, concealing the evils within—as she strode up to the front door, walking past a couple early morning kids as they milled around the entrance.
Emma opened the door, and a cacophony of sounds hit her. Spying a kid sitting by the wall, reading, she plopped down next to him. He had unassuming features, but when he glanced up at her she saw the sparkle that revealed a fellow dreamer.
“Hello!” she said. “What’re you reading?”
Without taking his eyes off the page, he lifted the book, revealing the cover.
“To Harmonize with War,” she read aloud. “Woah.” She breathed out excitedly. “That looks amazing. Of course, my dad always says not to judge a book by its cover, but I’ve always thought a title needs a certain … aesthetic. Don’t you agree?”
Now the boy looked up and smiled.
“You’re right,” he said. “A good cover makes the book delicious to the eyes.” He closed his book, carefully keeping one finger tucked between its pages. “I’m Will. And you are?”
“Emma Karnoble.” She stuck out her hand to shake. “But you can call me Emma Kingslayer. I just moved in. I’m supposed to be going to Mrs. Winegardner’s class, but I have no idea where it is.” She saw his eyes brighten.
“That’s my class! I’ll take you.” He led her around a corner, but stopped short, quickly looking at the ground. Right in front of them was a kid almost a foot taller than Emma. He glowered down at Will.
“Watch where you’re going, buddy, or you’ll regret it at lunch,” he said. His eyes flickered over to Emma. “Who’s your friend?”
Emma stiffened. “I can speak for myself, thank you very much. My name is Emma, and I find your churlish behavior to be odious.”
The kid’s eyebrows drew together as she spoke. “I don’t appreciate you making me look stupid,” he growled.
“Oh, you do that just fine on your own.” Emma responded with contempt.
He snarled, “Just for that, I’ll make sure everyone is too scared to even get close to you.” Then, he walked stiffly past them, off to spread warnings about a certain Emma Kingslayer.
“And thus we wage bestial warfare.” Emma muttered, eyes narrowed at the retreating figure. “Well, two can play at that game.” She looked back at Will to see that his jaw had dropped down to the floor.
“You just stood up against Eddy Fisher,” he said, disbelief obvious. Emma cast a censorious glance at Eddy.
“It wasn’t all that hard. He’s just a person, and a rather dim one at that, if he thinks he can intimidate a Kingslayer. Well,” she said, turning back to Will. “What say you to bringing down a tyrant?”
He looked at her for a moment. Then, he grinned. “I say, let us forge onward, maiden, and ever triumph over obstacles.”
The next couple of days were a flurry of activity as Will and Emma pulled together a rag-tag group, consisting of Will’s friends and people that Emma had dragged in mostly against their will. Every day at lunch, they met together under the oak tree. Some days they were knights in shining armor, pulverizing their enemies; other days they would be explorers, sailing to new lands; and on occasion they were detectives. No matter what they played, they were always bright eyed and happy by the end.
One day, Eddy walked up to the band of adventurers. An instant hush fell over the wary warriors. When the silence drifted on long enough, Will nudged Emma forward. She looked him over, giving him plenty of time to squirm before she spoke.
“Eddy Fisher,” she said with authority, “Do you require something?”
He stood there, looking uncomfortable for a moment, before finally saying, “I’m sorry.” He stumbled over the words like they were rabbits in a kitchen: quite unexpected, and not altogether welcome.
Emma considered him carefully, then said, “You know, you could always join with us, if you wanted.” She extended a hand. “What say ye?”
He looked at her hand, deliberating. Then he smiled and took it.
“I say yes.”