Charmed (Fairy Tale Reform School, #2)

“Never!” she says. “Being popular doesn’t make you better. And at least I don’t have purple hair.”


The two of us clink swords across the ship-classroom toward Blackbeard, who watches quietly. Clink! Rattle! Clink! I swipe one way, then the other, and then our swords connect above our heads. I may not be on the fencing team, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t practiced. Jocelyn doesn’t realize I have three little brothers who spend most of their waking hours pretending to be pirates.

I’m closing in on Jocelyn, inching her toward the side of the ship, when I see her whisper an incantation. I’m knocked on my back again. This time, I’m not going quietly.

I’ve got tricks too. I may be on the ground, but Jocelyn’s cape is so large that I can grab a handful of it and yank. Jocelyn goes flying. “I always knew your cape was trouble.”

“I’ll give you trouble.” Jocelyn starts swirling her right wrist like she’s stirring hot cocoa with a spoon. A purple haze begins to spin up from the floor. I may not have magic at my fingertips, but I’m smarter than she is. I spot the sail line hanging next to me, grab one end, and cut the other from its attached sandbag. The rope sends me flying above the classroom into the rafters above, and I pull myself up onto a wooden beam.

Jocelyn attempts to follow me, but as she’s on her way up, I cut her line, sending her falling down to the floor again. Yes! As the kids cheer, I grab another rope and begin to shimmy down when—Aaah! Jocelyn’s cut my line.

I’m falling, falling, falling. I hear people screaming, and the ground flying up to meet me, but I can do nothing to stop myself. I put my hands in front of my face to brace myself and feel my body snap like a rubber band. When I open one eye, I realize I’ve stopped inches from the ground and am floating there. I look over and see Jocelyn in the middle of a spell meant for me. Her conjuring has kept me from smacking into the floor.

“Looks like you owe me, Cobbler.” Jocelyn taunts and any chance of me thanking her goes out the window. “Good!” She drops me the few inches to the floor. “I guess I really do control you now.”

Jocelyn has gone too far. I spring up and race at her with my sword raised high. Her eyes widen and she steps back, preparing for us to clink blades. Clink! Clink! Clink! We go back and forth, around and around, faster this time. The crowd is cheering again and chanting my name. Gilly! Gilly! Gilly! I love the sound of them saying it while Jocelyn strains to keep up with me. She looks nervous. She should be! I can’t disappoint my fans—I have to win this duel.

So I cheat.

While Jocelyn’s sword is raised, I use my free hand to grab her hair and yank.

“Ouch!” She turns around and pulls my purple locks of hair. Both of us drop our swords and pounce, rolling to the ground and doing what we started to do the other day—fighting the good, old-fashioned way. I mean, the other old-fashioned way. With name-calling and hair-pulling.

“Liar!” I cry.

“Thief!” Jocelyn bellows.

“Wicked!” I taunt.

“Cobbler!” Jocelyn sputters. “Poor man’s daughter!”

My blood is ready to boil over. “Why couldn’t you have just disappeared along with your sister?” I shout. “I know! Because she didn’t want you! She left you behind on purpose!” Jocelyn stops fighting.

I see Jocelyn’s pained reaction just as we disappear under a sail that’s been dropped onto us. The sail pulls us close, rolling us up. Within seconds, we’re both mummified.

“Time!” Blackbeard yells through the wrapping.

The world around us is eerily quiet. We’re lying on top of each other, and the only sound I hear is Jocelyn’s and my breath going in and out. I hesitate, feeling slightly guilty, but I’m still unsure of what I want to say. “Jocelyn, I…”

She snaps her fingers and we unravel, me rolling into a wall.

“It seems ye be tied!” Blackbeard says.

My classmates are cheering, but Maxine looks horrified.

“It’s not a tie.” Jocelyn staggers toward me, straightening out her crooked robe. “The hero won. At least that’s what everyone here is going to say.” She looks straight at me. “Just remember—the bigger the hero is, the harder they fall.” Her eyes flash purple. “And I can’t wait to be here when you go splat.” Then in the purple haze I’ve become accustomed to, Jocelyn snaps her fingers and disappears.

Pegasus Postal Service

Flying Letters Since The Troll War!

FROM: Gillian Cobbler (Fairy Tale Reform School*)

*Letter checked for suspicious content

TO: Anna Cobbler (2 Boot Way)

Anna Banana,

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