Spelled

13: Someday My Witch Will Come

"Rule #32: If you find yourself at the mercy of a wicked witch, sing a romantic ballad and wait for your prince charming to save the day."

—Definitive Fairy-Tale Survival Guide, Volume 1
13

Someday My Witch Will Come

I woke up in a strange bed with a pounding headache. Ugh. Where was I, and who the spell had been using my head as a bongo?
There was a really nasty taste in the back of my throat. A little drool came out of the corner of my mouth and dropped onto a needlepoint pillow that said, "As the Crow Flies." I went to wipe the spittle from my cheek, but my hand wasn't cooperating. That's because it was tied to my other hand behind my back. A quick kick proved my ankles were tied too.
I looked around the room for an explanation—like maybe there was an ocean of alligators on the floor and Black Crow was worried that I'd fall out of bed if I weren't restrained.
Yeah right.
Didn't see any alligators, just ugly pink floral carpeting. The whole room was decorated with girly pink and white furniture, and every square inch of it was covered in knickknacks and trophies—science fair awards, spelling bees, an Achievement in Alchemy crystal. Clearly, Black Crow was a bit of a brain. The walls were mostly bare, but I did see a nice plaque on the closest one: Hex Salesman of the Year. And under it was a picture of Black Crow shaking hands and accepting the plaque from none other than Griz, the Gray Witch.
"Bedknobs and broomsticks. That pixing Bumpkin and his Grimm-glammed queen set me up." I kicked the metal post with a clang of frustration at being so naive.
I tried to calm myself down. Maybe I was wrong. Perhaps it was an honest mistake and the Bumpkins had really been trying to help. Then I remembered the look of knowing and retribution that Moony had given me—and how easily the queen had given me directions, even though I was trying to squish her children. What were her words again? Black Crow will take care of you.
Yep, she was sure taking care of me all right.
"How could I be so stupid? She probably pixie dusted the pie."
I thrashed around on the bed to get myself up.
"Shhhh."
Now what? The shushing came from the sitting room off to the side of the bedroom. Trying to get a peek proved a little harder than I thought, considering I was trussed up like a solstice day game hen.
Kato looked so calm, sitting there all nice and comfy next to a glass armoire filled with potions. A large, plush pet bed lay next to his clawed feet. Where were his manacles? If Black Crow left him free, she must have thought she could trust him. I couldn't help but notice he had a new fashion accessory—a hot-pink rhinestone collar.
"Traitor," I spat in disgust. "I was beginning to think that maybe you weren't so bad. But no, she feeds you and now you're her pet?"
Kato huffed and repositioned himself. "Can you for once go beyond the obvious? Look..." He used his tail to bat one of the yarn balls that Crow had so thoughtfully provided for him. It flew toward me and hit an unseen barrier. Vaporized on contact.
Huh. So he was a prisoner just like me.
"Sorry," I muttered. "But what was I supposed to think?" I hated being wrong—and yet lately, it happened so often. "In my defense, you are wearing a very nice collar with a medal hanging down." Hopefully it said something stupid, like Fluffy or Spot. Would serve him right for taking on such a superior tone of voice with me again.
Wait a minute.
I raised myself up as high as I could to take a good look at Kato. "You talked just now. Am I still dusted?"
"Yes, so go back to sleep." His voice had a deep, gruff quality, but even as an animal, he sounded condescending.
I liked him better when he couldn't talk.
"You know, for supposedly being a prince, you really lack a sense of finesse. Both your words and tail use force to get what you want. Maybe if you had tried a softer approach from the start, we wouldn't be here now."
"Yes, things would be different if only I'd given you poetry and a mountain of shoes." Kato did a very un-chimeralike eye roll. Then again, maybe chimeras did eye rolls all the time. How should I know? "In my domain, being soft will get you killed. Subjects respond to strength, not fine clothes and false pretty words."
"They also respond well to someone who bathes regularly," I muttered, then, louder, "How come you can talk now? Was it something in the pie?"
His tailed twitched and thumped against the glass case, rattling and clinking the potions together. "More than likely it was something in your wish that kept me from speaking until the spell matured."
"Well, now that you've mattered"— I tried to match his high and mighty tone—"maybe we can figure out a way to break that barrier." I had a little experience with that sort of thing, though the dragon at the Emerald palace was not only prettier but much less violent than Crow's see-through vaporizer.
"Don't worry. I already have a plan." He put his head down and gnawed on something.
I tried to straighten my back and crane my neck just enough to see what the spell Kato was doing. "That's great. I don't suppose you'd mind filling me in on said plan? Are you going to chew your way out? Or smack open a wall with your tail?"
"I said...don't worry about it. I don't need anyone else's help. I've got...it...under...control." He struggled to break whatever he was chewing on free.
A thought occurred to me—even with Kato talking, it was awfully quiet in here. "Hey, have you seen Rexi?"
Kato growled around a full mouth. "Quit bothering me. I'm...mrph...busy."
I tried really hard not to feel like I was being dismissed. I failed miserably. Being home, being here...it was all the same. Every time I wanted to have a picnic or a girl day with my mom, I heard the same thing. Well, it was closer to, Come back later. I'm busy running every teeny tiny detail of everyone's life. I'd known stepmothers that spent more time with family than the queen found for me. And if she'd let me, I probably could have helped—or at least not messed it up so badly that Verte couldn't fix it after.
"At last," Kato said triumphantly, spitting a black piece of something out of his mouth. It was hard to tell from the angle and distance, but it looked like he'd gnawed off one of his black talons.
I propped myself up again, high enough that he could see the full displeasure on my face. "So, let me get this straight. We're being held prisoner, awaiting death, dismemberment, or torture by off-key show tunes, and you think the best plan is to give yourself a manicure?"
We were completely pixed.
Behind the white door, two voices sounded like they were getting closer.
"Pretend to be asleep," Kato instructed.
Controlling little beast. Still, he didn't have to tell me twice. My head hit the pillow an instant before the door swung open. I deepened my breaths to look more asleep—and to keep from hyperventilating. My eyes were mere slits, so that I could see just enough to move before death hit me.
"I told you it was her. We're agreed on the payment, then?" Black Crow stayed back in the door frame. Her robust shape barred the way to the exit even if my feet had been untied. She stood next to the Gray Witch.
I lowered my lashes so she couldn't see that I was awake.
"Yes, yes. Five hundred and you can keep the bespelled ball of fur." Griz's voice was way too close for my liking. I could feel her breath on my cheek. In my mind, I envisioned her crouching low to look over her purchase—me.
"He's a chimera. Very ra—"
"Spare me, Crow."
Silence, but the hot air stayed on my face.
"Really, I expected more from the long-awaited Girl of Emerald. Maybe you're just a simple child after all."
It was all I could do not to jump a foot in the air when a hand brushed the hair off my face.
"So delicate," Griz said softly into my ear. Something sharp pressed against my neck. "So fragile."
The pressure increased but pulled back suddenly at the introduction of a new sound. The first few bars from the Wrong Direction's hit song, "My Spell's What Makes You Beautiful," came from somewhere close by.
Saved by the spellphone, though I hadn't taken either lady for a fan of Munchkin music. Apparently Griz was the one with the guilty pleasure, because she's the one who answered.
"What is it? I'm busy," she said in clipped tones.
I couldn't hear the voice on the other end very clearly, but it sounded like they said, She's awake.
"Are you absolutely sure?" The seriousness of Griz's voice indicated very bad things if the caller was not.
Since Griz was no longer breathing on my neck, I took a chance and opened my eyes to slits again. She walked away from me and closer to the door, so I had no chance of hearing the mystery caller's reply. Whatever it was, it satisfied Griz. She snapped the phone closed.
"Something's come up. Prepare me a spelled opal to use on the commoner, and I'll send Tinman to collect everything. In the meantime, don't you dare say a word to the wizard," Griz informed Crow, her back to me. "I've seen him skulking around, and I won't give him the chance to double-cross me again. He's always had a soft spot for those infernal Emerald girls." By the time she finished the statement, her voice had turned from thoughtful to bitter.
"What's so important about them?"
"None of your concern. Just keep our little transaction confidential. It's imperative that this blasted girl stays here and away from anything even remotely associated with Oz." Griz walked to the door and pushed the heavy woman out of the way. "That meddling fool has a tendency to pop up where you least expect him."
Oz? I thought his name was Mick. Oz must be his magical specialty...or where he lived in his Ivory Tower. I never did catch what he was the wizard of...
My thoughts froze when I caught a glimpse of something that changed everything.
Before rushing out the front door, Griz grabbed a staff from the kitchen. An emerald staff.
Verte's emerald staff.
Verte wasn't coming. She would never be coming.