Sintra doesn’t even wait for me to say something witty before launching a bolt of purple energy straight at my face.

I duck, barely missing the magical death ray. It crashes into the rubble behind me, sending chunks of stone flying.

“Okay,” I say, adjusting my grip on Aggie. “She’s not messing around.”

“She’s trying too hard,” Aggie says. “Bet her childhood doll collection was all mismatched.”

Sintra glares at me, her cheeks slightly pink. “What are you talking about?! Are you even taking this seriously?!”

“Oh, absolutely,” I say, sidestepping another magical blast. “Taking it very seriously. Deadly seriously. Aggie, help me out here!”

“Swing, genius!” Aggie yells.

I charge, lifting Aggie high. The blade hums, spitting out sparks like she’s warming up for a light show.

Sintra raises her staff, her eyes narrowing as she says something under her breath. A glowing purple shield forms in front of her.

Our clash is instant and loud, like a drum solo gone rogue. Sparks and purple lightning fly everywhere. The ground shakes. My arms ache from the impact, and Aggie’s vibrations are almost too much to handle.

“Gotcha!” I yell.

“You wish!” Sintra snaps back, pushing me away with a burst of magic.

I stumble, nearly dropping Aggie, but manage to hold on.

Sintra twirls her staff like it’s a baton in a cheerleading routine. “I was planning to toy with you a bit longer. But if you’re going to be this annoying, I’ll just end it now!”

“Oh no,” Aggie says. “She’s pulling out her ultimate move: talking us to death.”

“Shut up!” Sintra’s cheeks are definitely red now. “You’re so annoying!”

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“Thanks,” I say, grinning as I charge again. My sword—ahem, Aggie—slashes through the air, aiming for her shield.

She parries with her staff. For a moment, we’re locked in place, energy crackling between us.

“You’re stubborn,” she growls.

“You’re dramatic,” I shoot back.

Her eyes narrow. “You’re… insufferable.”

“You’re… not wrong.”

She lets out a frustrated yell, shoving me back with another wave of magic.

I land hard on my back, the wind knocked out of me. My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath.

“Greg, focus!” Aggie yells. “She’s getting serious!”

“No kidding.” I roll to my feet just in time to dodge another blast.

Sintra is relentless. Her attacks come faster now, each one bigger and more chaotic than the last. Lightning. Fire. A cloud of glitter. Wait, glitter?

“What is this, an evil arts-and-crafts project?!” I shout, batting away a sparkly orb of doom.

“Magic is flexible!” she snaps, summoning a dozen floating swords that hover around her.

“Okay, that’s cheating,” Aggie grumbles.

“No, it’s strategy,” Sintra says smugly. Then she flicks her wrist. The swords fly at me like angry seagulls at a beach picnic.

I spin, duck, and swing Aggie as fast as I can, deflecting most of the swords. But one grazes my shoulder, cutting through my armor. I hiss in pain.

“You okay?” Aggie asks, sounding less cocky now.

“Peachy,” I grunt, dodging another sword. “Totally loving this whole ‘getting stabbed by floating blades’ thing going on.”

“Good,” Aggie says. “Because I’m running on fumes here.”

“What?!” My voice cracks as I barely block another magical attack. “You didn’t mention a fuel gauge!”

“Destroying a castle takes a lot out of me, alright? Cut me some slack.”

Sintra smirks, catching the exchange. “Running out of juice, are we? How tragic.”

Her staff glows brighter, and I can feel the heat of her magic even from across the battlefield. She’s winding up for something big.

“Greg!” Bob yells from his magical restraints. “Don’t let her win!”

“Thanks for the tip!” I yell back.

I roll out of the way as a beam of energy scorches the ground where I was standing.

Sintra points her staff at me. Suddenly, the air around me grows heavy. I can’t move. It’s like being trapped in a bubble of quicksand.

She walks forward, her heels clicking on the cracked stone, and looks down at me with a mix of pity and triumph.

“This is where you fall,” she says softly, raising her staff. “Any last words?”

“Yeah,” I say, struggling against the magical force pinning me. “Your lair had terrible feng shui.”

Her eye twitches. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” I reply. “What’s next? An evil laugh?”

Her lips open, but she clamps them shut. Her cheeks flush again. “I don’t have to laugh to win.”

“Wouldn’t hurt your credibility, though,” I manage to say, even as the magic presses harder against me.

“Enough!” she shouts, her staff glowing so brightly that I have to squint. The ground trembles. The air hums with power.

For a second, everything is still.

Then she activates the spell.