Kato pushed me away with his wing, put his horns down, and braced for impact.
I cringed at the ripping sound of horn meeting flesh. Bob ran in and gored Griff from the side, knocking him off his collision course with Kato. But Griff wasn’t done yet. He reared up and swiped a paw across Bob’s wing, the claws shredding the delicate feathers.
Kato bounded over to help and hollered along the way, “Go, Dot! Do whatever you have to. Do not let Griz leave here with Blanc.”
Asking me to guess Rumplestiltskin’s middle name would probably have been easier. The ground shook and smoke filled the open passageways. I took off down the one that I was pretty sure led to the furnace room. Several chimeras fought in the carved caverns. I didn’t know who was on which side. The chimeras weren’t wearing team colors or anything.
A barbed tail swung just over my head and hit a stalactite. Pieces of rock fractured off as it hit the ground and bounced into my leg, making me crash. A shock zipped up my body from my right foot. Sitting up, I assessed the damage. The ruby heel had broken off one of my shoes and my ankle throbbed, indicating it was probably twisted. And to top it off, I’d lost Hydra’s head in the fall. My eyes burned. I couldn’t see it anywhere; it was probably rolling off somewhere. I’d have to find her later, assuming there was a later. To stand, I braced myself against a miniature volcano—the one the Griff had tried to kill me with. That meant I was almost there.
Shoes in hand, I hobbled into the furnace room just in time to see Griz clobber one of the chimera guards protecting the stoic Blanc. Rexi stood in the center of the room, looking like she would run and save her own hide at the first opportunity.
I dropped the shoes so I could bring the flames to my hand. Hoping for a dramatic entrance, I fired a single shot into the ceiling of the cave to announce to Griz that I had arrived. Instantly, I felt the strain of the curse waking up, wanting to be fed.
End this quickly. There is nothing here that doesn’t deserve to burn.
I pushed the thought away like I had before, holding on to the name I needed to save.
“Hand over the vial and Rexi’s necklace, or the next one goes right into Blanc’s prison.” I walked forward and allowed the fire to form in my hand again to show her I was ready to do it.
Why wait? Just fire.
I shook my head to knock the voice loose. “Shut up.”
Griz leaned to the side and studied me. “Having a bit of trouble controlling it, are we?”
I chuckled. It sounded half-mad to me, so I hoped it sounded just over the edge of desperate crazy to her. “I don’t need to control it anymore. I can just let it go and erase you and your sister off the pixing page.”
That was not the answer Griz was hoping for. She frowned and yanked the opal off her neck. “We seem to be at a standstill. You are threatening someone important to me, and I have something important to you. What do you propose we do?”
She’d made the right move by holding Rexi’s life hostage. Even though she had betrayed me, she was still my friend and I was going to save her life somehow. If I survived the rest, I could beat her senseless later.
A shuffle shuffle came from the back of the room. “Do what you were born to do.” Verte stood in the left entrance next to the desk. She was a little roughed up but still alive.
My sparks flared up in response.
“Stop.” Another Verte appeared in the entrance behind me. She looked exactly like I remembered her from the garden—down to having a little green friend peeking out from under her hat.
My double vision could only mean one thing. Well, two things actually. Verte was here and alive. And so was the Mimicman.
Oh, yeah, and I didn’t have a fairy flippin’ clue who was who.
I motioned to the Verte behind me. “You, move closer to the other…you.” I needed to get everyone in a single field of vision.
“You come to me, child. Use your powers. I will help you control them.” This from the beaten-up Verte. “The evil sisters cannot be allowed to live.”
The other Verte walked with her back closely to the rounded wall. “Humph. Can’t necessarily argue with that fact. But using that abominable curse is not the way. Let it go, Dot.”
I didn’t know who was real or what to do. Where was a Grimm-forsaken mirror when I needed one?
Logic told me that the battered green witch was the real Verte, because the Mimicman was on Griz’s side—he would want to protect her, not tell me to kill her. The other Verte looked too perfect, but she had called me Dot. There was just no way to be sure.