Bethany cast a wary glance over the unicorn standing in front of her. A sturdy body that could take more punishment, hooves that could probably run a lot faster than her, and the horn... Lyra didn’t need to make preparations for battle. After all, a unicorn was never unarmed. But Bethany wasn’t quite so confident in her own abilities.

“I’m gonna need to fly,” Bethany declared with a brief nod.

“Ooh! I know just the thing!” Lyra dashed into the house and emerged a minute later with a towel. “Will this work?”

Bethany broke into a big smile. “Perfect!” She tied her trusty cape around her neck and went for a quick test flight, but something was still missing. Thick stands of dead, gnarled trees grew up in the backyard as she gave it some thought. Leaves rustled, and strange animal noises sounded in the distance, but it would take more than that to scare her. “Be right back!”

She ran into the house, checking the kitchen first. The potato masher would look weird. No, Mom would be mad if she got one of the wooden spoons dirty. She’d already gotten in trouble for using Dad’s tennis racket once. What to use...

Moments later, Bethany careened back outside, brandishing her magic wand. “See, I need some magic, too. But it’s not as strong as yours, ’cause it’s, like, inborn or somethin’ for you, while mine’s just based on the wand, right?” She waited a few tense seconds for an answer. It could be a serious breach of etiquette to overlap someone else’s superpowers, so she had to tread carefully.

“Sure! Long as you can’t shoot lasers or nothin’.”

“No,” Bethany answered with a little slump of her shoulders, “that’s your thing.”

“Let’s go, then!” Lyra shouted, already galloping toward the forest path.

Bethany followed, flying low to stay under the crooked branches and hanging carpets of moss. They must have gone several miles into the woods when Lyra stopped short, forcing Bethany to loop around for a landing after she overshot her friend.

“There!” Lyra shouted, pointing through a gap in the black trunks. Just over the next rise, a tall castle loomed, the tips of its spires lost in the clouds. “That must be where the evil wizard lives.”

No trees stood near the castle, which sat on a pinnacle of rock surrounded by a deep chasm. The shiny, dark stone walls glared down at the heroes, and the drawbridge creaked and groaned its way down, inviting them, daring them to enter.

Bethany took a step forward, but then noticed that the birds had stopped singing, the wind had stopped hissing, the leaves had stopped scraping. There was a complete lack of sound, except one: a low, throaty growl behind them.

Lyra immediately turned around and tore into the lead timber wolf with a beam from her horn. It blew apart easily, but the pile of branches and logs was already twitching—it wouldn’t take long for the beast to put itself back together. Bethany swooped down and strained to pick up the bigger pieces with her magic, but she managed to get the wolf’s core and fling it across the river. A hero had to think quickly under pressure, and that would make it reassemble over there, where it couldn’t get to them.

By the time Bethany dove back into the battle, Lyra had demolished three more wolves, but two of them were already halfway back together. Gritting her teeth, Bethany tried to pick one of those up, but... Too heavy! She’d have to settle for the one that was still in the most pieces, but she couldn’t keep this up for long. Lyra, either—the pack circling her was growing all the time, pressing in closer, and she was already panting. It was time to see what this wand could do.

Bethany closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment, then could see her wand glowing through her eyelids. She felt... stronger. Still not enough to pick up a wolf, but—a smirk crept across her face—enough to pick up Lyra.

Back to the ground she swooped and hoisted Lyra up piggyback-style. From above the treetops, Lyra easily picked off four more wolves, one by one, now that she could take her time doing it. The timber wolves bristled and snapped and snarled below, but ultimately could only slink off into the trees.

“I guess we taught them a lesson!” Lyra said through her laughter. “They won’t be back.”

Bethany touched down softly, then took off running for the castle with Lyra in hot pursuit. They dodged stumps, leaped over rocks, and ducked through bushes until Bethany caught her foot on a tree root and went sprawling. She sat up and rubbed her knee, her hand coming away with a deep-red smudge on it. Gaping at the sight, she held back the tears that danced on the edges of her vision.

Only a few paces behind, Lyra trotted up to her and wrinkled her brow. “I-is it bleeding?”

Bethany just stared back for a minute, then finally nodded and sniffled. She wiped her eyes, coughed a few times, and smiled. “C’mon! I bet there’s a hydra over by the sandbox!” With a quick pull on the treehouse’s ladder to get herself standing, Bethany retied the towel around her neck, picked up her toilet brush, and ran off toward their next battle, with just a barely noticeable limp.

---

Bethany tiptoed into the bedroom with a hot bowl of vegetable broth and set it down on the nightstand. She was on her way back out when she heard Lyra stir. “Oh! You’re awake. Do you feel any better?”

Lyra flashed a weak smile and shrugged. She pushed the cold cloth off her forehead, then licked her lips as she glanced at the soup. “Can you hold that for me? I haven’t gotten the hang of levitation quite yet,” she croaked, wincing at the pain in her throat.

“At least you’re getting your appetite back,” Bethany said. She took a spoonful of broth, cupped her hand under it, and held it up for Lyra to slurp it. “I wish you felt better. It’s not nice outside today, so it’d be a great time to sit around and talk.”

Lyra gave an apologetic grimace and pushed Bethany back with a hoof. She took a sudden breath, then jerked forward with a giant sneeze. “Sorry,” she said, reaching for a tissue.

“Oh! I forgot!” Bethany jammed a hand into her pocket and pulled out a pack of lozenges. “Here. These’ll numb your throat so it won’t hurt to talk ’n’ stuff.” She unwrapped one and popped it in Lyra’s mouth.

Stepping back to the door, Bethany reached out into the hallway for her backpack and brought it over to the bed. “I’ve got your homework here, if you want to get it over with. It’s not too bad except—”

“Can you help me with the spelling?”

“—spelling. Lyra, you know I can’t spell.” Bethany stuck her tongue out at Lyra and rolled her eyes.

Lyra couldn’t help laughing, but it started her coughing again. Holding up a hoof to ward off Bethany’s concern, Lyra took a moment to catch her breath. She swallowed hard and looked back up, her eyes wandering to a flash of color. “I’ll do homework later—Hey, are those your new earrings?”

Bethany nodded and pulled her hair back from her ears. “They’re aquamarines.”

After a glance down at her coat, Lyra broke into a big smile.

“They’re clips. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to get them pierced for real!”

Lyra gasped. “Me too! We should go and get them done together!”

Bethany raised an eyebrow and craned her neck forward while shaking her head. “Well, duh!”

Scrunching up her face, Lyra gritted her teeth. A faint glow hovered around the glass of water on the table and flicked a few drops at Bethany.

Bethany squealed and backed away from the bed, but then fell silent as she glanced into the hallway. “Listen—I heard Mom and Dad talking earlier today, but when I walked in, they stopped and just looked at me. You know what that was about?”

Lyra raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

Remaining silent for a minute, Bethany hurried over and flopped into a chair next to the bed. “Oh! Your birthday’s coming up soon, Lyra. What do you want this year?”

Lyra looked down at the quilt and frowned while tapping her hooves together.

Giving the room a quick survey, Bethany looked over their old toys. A real wand she’d gotten for their backyard adventures a few years ago, now with the star broken off the tip and tossed in the corner. Her friend’s first lyre—but Bethany didn’t know a thing about music. A few dolls, their hair and manes now hopelessly tangled. “I dunno. I was thinking maybe another doll... or...”

Lyra’s lip curled a little. “We haven’t really... played with those much lately.”

“Yeah...”

“Oh!” Lyra’s eyes brightened, and she broke into a broad grin. “Hey, how about a new saddle? I’d say a vest, but I’ll get a nice one for Winter Wrap Up anyway. But I don’t have a good saddle...”

“Yeah. That’s a good idea! Some nice white fluff around the edges...” Bethany traced her hands around the fleece border of the object in her imagination. “What color would you like for the leather?”

Lyra’s eyes shot wide open, and she folded her ears back. “Leather?” She tried to sit up, but Bethany held a hand against her chest to keep her down.

“Sorry, it was a bad joke.” Bethany waited until Lyra’s ears had perked back up. “We’ll find some nice denim or canvas or something.”

“Bethany! Time for dinner!” came a voice from downstairs.

“Coming!” she shouted out the door. She shoved the bowl of broth to the nightstand’s edge so Lyra could at least lean over and drink some directly from it if she couldn’t manage the spoon. Then she ran into the hallway. “I’ll save you some dessert!” she called back over her shoulder.

---

“You seem to have hit it off with Bon Bon.”

“Yeah, we have a lot in common,” Lyra answered.

“Good.” Bethany made a few more pencil scratches at her homework, then returned to staring out the window. Lyra looked at her from the bed, over the top of the magazine she was reading. She glanced back and forth between Bethany and the page before finally putting it down. “Is... something wrong?”

“No...” Bethany drummed her pencil against her cheek, never moving her gaze from the sky.

“You sure?”

“It’s not that... It’s just...” She finally turned in her chair and faced Lyra. “Well, you know that guy Jason? In our class?”

“I think so,” Lyra replied, holding a hoof to her chin. “The one with the black hair that sits in the second row?”

“Yeah.”

“What about him?” Lyra leaned forward. The blush on Bethany’s cheeks was too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Well... boys are gross, of course.” Bethany made a dismissive wave as she cocked her head.

“Of course.”

“I just... If you think about it, he’s not so bad.” Just how she’d always done for as long as Lyra had known her, Bethany swung her legs in her chair, but unlike those old days of fighting dragons in the backyard or playing with dolls, her feet brushed the floor now. “He’s nice, and he’s got nice hair, and... he’s nice.”

“Yeah. You said that.”

Bethany turned back to her textbook, her eyes scanning back and forth across the paragraphs, but after ten minutes, she still hadn’t turned a single page. “Do you... Do you think you could ask him if he likes me?”

“Really? Why?” Lyra had to hold back her laughter, but at least Bethany wasn’t looking at her.

“Nothing. Just curious.”

“You wanna smooch him, don’t you?” She’d tried her best, but Lyra finally burst out giggling at Bethany’s horrified gape. As indignant as she was trying to look, she was still smiling. And blushing.

“No! I mean—” Bethany exhaled sharply. “Look—are you gonna do it or not?”

Lyra rolled off the bed and gave her a hug. “You know I will.”

Her smile softening, Bethany hugged her back. “Thanks.” She sighed. “Listen—have you heard Mom and Dad talking lately?”

“No. Maybe. I dunno.” Lyra’s heartbeat quickened a little. “I guess I noticed Mom whispering a bit. Why?”

“Just... nothing. I thought I might have heard them say something.” Bethany pursed her lips. “About... you know...”

Lyra’s cheeks went pale. She levitated her teddy bear over and squeezed it to her chest.

Reaching an arm around Lyra’s neck, Bethany said, “Don’t worry. We’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.”

---

Lyra lay back in her favorite spot on her bed, her hind legs crossed and one hoof tapping to the beat that was leaking from her earbuds. Bethany could make out enough of the sound to follow along, and bobbed her head with the music.

“Isn’t that song great?” Bethany shouted so that Lyra would be sure to hear. “A couple of the girls at school told me about it.”

Lyra nodded and closed her eyes to concentrate on listening. So it was that Bethany heard first—a slow, soft thudding from the staircase. She froze and followed the noise’s progress down the hallway. When it reached the door, Bethany laid a hand lightly on Lyra’s shoulder.

A hesitant knock sounded. Slowly, Lyra removed her earbuds and stared back at Bethany, whose eyes had shot wide open. She blinked back a few tears and walked to the door as Lyra levitated the earbuds onto the nightstand and gasped. “Y-yes, Mom?”

Their mother and father both came in. Mom sat on the bed next to Lyra, and Dad took a spot on the floor, patting the rug next to him to invite Bethany.

“I thought we’d have... more time...” Lyra said, hiding her eyes.

“You know we love you both very much,” Mom said as she stroked Lyra’s mane, “but you knew back when all this started, when you met because of that silly cartoon, how it would have to go. Back when you were both little girls, you said you understood, and you agreed.” She kept her voice soft and steady, each word carefully measured. “You knew what responsibility you were taking on. I know your hearts were in the right place, and you’ve been wonderful friends for each other. Sisters, for all practical purposes.”

Lyra couldn’t tear her gaze away from the quilt. She must have thought that if she didn’t acknowledge it, then it wasn’t happening. Her own concentration focused on breathing steadily, Bethany shifted position to face her dad.

“You’re both getting to an age where there are more demands on your time,” Dad said as he patted Bethany’s shoulder. “You’ve got much more homework, class projects, after-school activities.”

“Before long,” Mom chimed in, “you’ll be starting high school, dating”—Bethany and Lyra exchanged a weak grin—“maybe finding a professional-grade music tutor.” She tousled Lyra’s mane.

“And maybe joining the soccer team,” Dad finished.

Bethany glanced up at the pair of trophies on her shelf.

“Many children make friends, but not many actually, you know, make friends.” Dad reached over to Bethany and gave her a little squeeze. “The point is—you’re becoming young adults. And as much as we’d like to, we can’t support you both. It wouldn’t be fair to you, either. You have such different paths ahead. I’m afraid we just don’t have the resources to nurture an imaginary friend.”

It was barely noticeable, but Lyra’s body jerked at the use of that phrase.

“Imaginary friends have—” Dad took a deep breath while waiting for the proper words to filter into his head “—special abilities that we can’t help them develop. And conversely, they can’t do some things that we take for granted.”

Bethany glanced at Lyra’s horn, then down at her hands. Yeah, it’d be nice to have a magical horn, but there’s a lot she can’t do without these...

“Girls, we discussed this long ago,” Mom said. “There is a place where imaginary friends can get the attention they need to grow up, if they choose, or stay as they are.”

She slid a brochure onto the nightstand. In multiple pastel colors, it proclaimed, “Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends.”

“The important thing is that you’re not children anymore, and you have to make adult decisions.” Mom gave a tight-lipped smile and looked Bethany in the eye, and Dad reached over the edge of the mattress to pat Lyra’s hoof.

“I... understand,” Bethany said and nodded slowly. “I guess I knew this day was coming. I just hoped... But you’re right.” She glanced up at Lyra. Except for the one look they’d shared, Lyra had spent the whole time staring down at the covers. Her lower lip trembled, and shimmering teardrops danced in the corners of her eyes.

Dad kissed Bethany on top of her head. “I appreciate that you’re being very mature about this.”

Is this what it’s like to be an adult? It doesn’t feel much different. My adult eyes want to cry as much, my adult arms still want to wrap around Lyra’s neck, and my adult chest hurts just the same.

---

Bethany led the way up the front walk to Foster’s Home. Right behind her was Lyra, levitating a suitcase, then Mom and Dad brought up the rear.

Madame Foster met them on the porch. “Welcome, welcome!” she said, then gestured toward the large, well-dressed rabbit beside her. “This is Mr. Herriman. He will help get you situated.” Her face broke into a wide grin. “Oh, I just know you’re going to love it here. There’s never a dull moment, and there are so many interesting characters around.”

“We’ve enjoyed having both of you live with us,” Mom said. “I hope we’ve been good parents.”

Lyra’s lip quivered, but she managed a nod. “What happens now?”

“She’s welcome to stay as long as she needs,” Madame Foster interjected to Mom. “Another child may form a bond with her. If so, she’s free to go with them. She’s one of the unusual ones that’s capable of growing up. It could be that she finds her own place in the world. And if these two happen to reconnect as adults, so much the better.” She smiled in turn at Lyra and Bethany. “Of course, you can visit whenever you like.”

Their eyes wide, Bethany and Lyra both spun to cast a pleading glance at their parents, who immediately nodded back. “Certainly,” Dad said.

“Mr. Herriman, would you please help with her bag?” Madame Foster asked. Lyra let the suitcase float to the ground so that he could take charge of it.

“Of course. It will be waiting in your room, young lady.” He bowed smartly, twitched his nose, and hopped into the house.

With all immediate topics of conversation exhausted, everyone stood quietly for a moment, forcing smiles and scuffing feet against the pavement. Bethany rushed over to give Lyra one last hug, throwing her arms around the unicorn’s neck and feeling the soft mane against her cheek. Mom and Dad stooped down to hug them both as well, but as time dragged on, Bethany knew she would have to be the one to end it.

She pulled away from her family and stepped over to Madame Foster. “It’s... time. I’ll just get settled in—” she turned her head back toward her parents “—and maybe we can visit next weekend?”

Mom and Dad smiled and nodded, but Lyra just sniffled hard. She started to mouth “good-bye,” but her voice broke, and she hid her eyes behind her forelock as a few tears dotted the sidewalk. Dad reached a hoof around her shoulder and nudged her along to begin the long trot home.

“You’re going to fit in just fine, dear,” Madame Foster said as she patted Bethany on her back.

“But... you’re human, too. I don’t understand...” Bethany knit her brow and looked down at the short-statured old woman.

“Oh, I run the place,” she said, tittering, “because I’m good at it. But I’m Mr. Herriman’s imaginary friend.”

“Oh.” Bethany had to smile. Some things in the world just made too much sense. “No other humans here, though?”

Madame Foster shook her head. “No. But there’s one scheduled to arrive tomorrow. A boy by the name of Jason.”