“I’m very hungry, Sir Wulf,’ she whispered hopefully. ‘Is that soup?’ ‘Don’t you dare!’ breathed Goodbye. ‘It’s our spell, and you can’t have any.’ September brightened a little. This was what she had come for: witches and spells and wairwulves.… — Catherynne M. Valente Copy Share Image
“Witches,’ she said, sounding bored. She threw back the shot. Mine had paused at my lips in shock. She looked at me expectantly ‘Bitches,’ I strangled out, downing mine.” — Maria Lewis Copy Share Image
