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and then from his second-chance summer school—because of me. Good to hear you still got third chances.
    “This is a different school. I’m not going back to SUNY. This one—Pratt—it’s in New York City—”
    Each word was a jolt of alicorn venom. “You’re leaving.”
    “Yes.”
    I nodded, and felt my throat closing up. I wasn’t immune to this.
    “I have to,” he said. “I have to finish college. I can’t just keep bumming around. It’s not like Phil, who is running the Cloisters. This is
my
job. Being a student.”
    “I understand,” I said. “What … about us?”
    Another pause, but he followed it with, “I want to be with you. I don’t care if there’s an ocean between us.”
    I laughed then, a horrible, bitter sound. “Why, Giovanni? Why? It makes no difference to me.”
    He flinched. “Don’t say that.”
    “I’m a celibate unicorn hunter living in a nunnery. I’m that whether you’re here or a million miles away. But you don’t have to have that. Back in New York, there are thousands of girls. Girls who aren’t like me.” Models, actresses, artists, coeds. I couldn’t breathe, thinking about all the girls he could have.
    “I don’t want girls who aren’t like you,” he snapped back. “I like unicorn hunters.”
    “Ew, don’t say that.” I shuddered.
    “I like
you
, Astrid. There are other girls in Rome and I like you. It’ll be the same in New York.”
    I rolled to my feet, filled with the need to run, to leap, to shoot something. “You say that now, but in a month or two, you’ll forget about me. You’ll find someone …” The words choked me. I felt trapped by my body, imprisoned until the moment a unicorn came and set the magic free.
    And then I felt Giovanni’s hand slip into mine and the storm calmed.
    “Are you saying you don’t want to try?” he asked softly. “You want to break up?”
    “I don’t
want
to,” I whispered, folding myself into his arms, hoping he’d hold me tight enough to keep me there. Every second I could get of Giovanni would be worth it when he was gone. “But what choice do we have?”
    What choice did I ever have? Dating Giovanni was my only taste of normalcy, the only part of me that remained tethered to my old life, the old Astrid. Giovanni reminded me that hands could be used for holding people, not swords, and that my heart could pound when I wasn’t in pursuit of prey. He took me outside the Cloisters for art, not battle, and used my hunting knife to cut cheese. Giovanni had helped to make me a warrior, but he knew that I was also a girl. If he left, what would be left of me?

3
W HEREIN A STRID R ECEIVES A M ESSAGE
     

 
    T he night before Giovanni left, an unseasonable storm blew in from the sea. I stood on the parapet overlooking the Cloisters courtyard and watched the clouds moving over the terra-cotta rooftops of Rome.
    Maybe his flight would be canceled.
    Wasn’t it just the way of things? There was one guy in the world who didn’t care about me being a hunter, and he had to move to New York City. Last I heard, the island of Manhattan was still, blissfully, unicorn-free. What possible reason would I ever have to go there?
    I watched the hunters in the courtyard scatter as the rain began, and Cory joined me at the parapet, shaking droplets of water out of her curls.
    “All right?”
    “Not really.”
    Cory braced her hands on the stone balcony and rocked back on her heels. “Maybe this is for the best?” She turned to me. “You know I like Giovanni, but your relationship had to end sometime. You can’t be with someone and be a unicorn hunter.”
    “Um, I have been. All summer.”
    Cory sighed. “This is hard for all of us, you know. You aren’t the only one who has had to give things up.”
    “Have you left a boyfriend back home?” It’d be the first I’d heard of it. I only knew she missed her pet dog.
    “No.” Cory watched the storm. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
    “Then don’t try to imagine