“After my bad experience as a kite, I simply refused to go about as a glowing Sadie-headed chicken. That’s fine for Carter, but I have standards.”

“My face felt like my normal face, as if that part of me hadn’t transformed into a bird. [Fine, Sadie. Call me the Carter-headed chicken. Happy?]”

“The way I see it,” Carter said, “I have to keep your secret because if I don’t call a truce with you, that someone who’s going to get killed somedaywill probably be me.” I shrugged. He was right about that. But I smiled again and held out my hand. “Fine. Truce.”“Truce,” Carter agreed, and shook my hand. “So how about a statement for my article?”“Sure. ‘No comment.’ ”

“I found that things weren't going well upstairs. Carter was a crumpled heap of chicken warrior on the slope of the pyramid.”

“I seriously needed an extra-strength magic pillow, because my ba refused to stay put. [And no, Sadie, I don't think wrapping my head in duct tape would've worked either.]”

“Sadie?""What?""You with me?"I blinked in confusion and said, "Yes." And I was, wasn't I? I was standing in his arms for goodness sake."This is Sadie?" Hector went on.I blinked again. "Yes.""My Sadie?" he kept at it.This time I blinked for a different reason.His Sadie? Was there a Hector's Sadie? Was I Hector's Sadie? Did Hector think I was his Sadie?Oh…my…God.Before I could process what he said or get close to processing what that meant, I watched him smile, then he bent his head and kissed my lips."Yeah," he said, his face an inch away. "It's my Sadie.”