Charmed (Fairy Tale Reform School, #2)

Kayla sighs. “You have a point.”


We pass the elf cleaning crew dusting an atrium sitting area where books are tucked into bookcases as high as the stained glass windows. Some of the feather dusters are dusting on their own. The elves seem to be on a coffee break because they don’t move when they see us hurry past. Minutes later, we’re at the cafeteria.

“Over here!” Ollie whispers. He, Maxine, and Jax are hiding behind a sign announcing fencing tryouts with Blackbeard. Ye Better Be Prepared! it says. Same goes for today. My friends are in disguise wearing Gnome-olia Bakery uniforms and chefs’ hats. The sight of Jax in a baker’s apron makes me giggle.

“What?” He models his apron. “I’d make an excellent baker. Put yours on. Our ride leaves in five minutes.”

I throw mine on and take in the heavenly scent of cinnamon. “What’s the plan?”

“Gnome-olia Bakery is doing its weekly delivery of cinnamon rolls.” Ollie points to the kitchen. “We will sneak in the back of the carriage and make like a bag of rolls. They should have extra sacks that we can slip into. These uniforms will help us blend in at Gnome-olia Bakery ’til we can make our way out.”

Maxine gives me a toothy grin. “Gilly! You came! The Happily Ever After Scrolls office is next to the fountain in the village square. We’ll need to find a way to sneak in there once we can scout out the location. I even posted a message on the HEAS comments board by my last note and said, ‘Would love to visit the office!’ And look what someone commented below me: ‘It’s right next to my favorite tea shop. I’ll have to wear my new Little Red Riding Hood cloak there if I’m ever invited.’ It’s got to be our source!”

“Wow.” I think Maxine is right. This source wants to help us!

“We’re going to find the mole! We’re going to find the mole!” Kayla sings.

“I agree, but I still have one question,” I say. “Gnome-olia delivers here every few days. How are we getting back?” Their faces fall.

Ollie swallows hard. “We’re clever. I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

“Just two more sacks, Gemma!” someone yells, and we duck down to avoid being seen by the school’s goblin chef.

Jax motions for us to follow him. I hate coming into a heist without all the information, but the thought of seeing Anna washes my concerns away. I stuff the baker’s hat on my head and follow the others through the cafeteria. One by one, we drop to the floor and crawl along behind the counters. The wood countertops are filled with strange, half-chopped root vegetables, and pots are steaming on the cast-iron stove. Some are being stirred by long, wooden spoons bewitched with magic. Jax pulls me behind a sack of potatoes.

I see boots under the table. “Don, Headmistress Flora wants an order of caramel cakes. We’re having a tea honoring Princess Rose. She just joined the staff.”

“You’ve got a royal working in a reform school?” asks Don as we move around the table to the other side to avoid them. Maxine is moving so fast that she narrowly misses hitting a wayward pot with her big feet. “I think I have some in the carriage. Hey, Phil!” he calls. “Grab me a dozen caramel cakes for the headmistress.”

I hear more footsteps. “I’ll sign the scroll for the delivery then and be off,” Don says.

Our group scurries behind a sack of flour that is the size of a giant. If Phil comes down our aisle, we’re toast.

“Where is that scroll?” Gemma asks. “I had it on the counter.” I see the purple nails of her goblin feet inch closer to where we’re hidden. Then she turns back. “It’s gone! Oh well. Come into the cafeteria and I’ll grab a new one.”

Ollie holds up the missing scroll. “Let’s move.” With the coast clear, we crawl quickly along the pan racks and we’re out the door in seconds. Into the cool, misty morning air we hurry, standing up and diving into the back of the carriage. I grab the first sack I see and begin passing them out. Ollie and Kayla fit into one. Maxine has her own, and that leaves one for Jax and me. I hear voices and know we only have seconds to hide.

Jax jumps in and shakes the bag for me to join him. “Let’s go, thief!”

I’m out of time. I grab his hand and hoist myself into the burlap sack rimmed with flour and crumbs from rolls. Jax pulls the sack over us. Through the fibers of the bag, I can just make out Jax’s face staring back at my own. I hear one of the guys approach the carriage and tie down the back of the canopy, shrouding the area in darkness. We’re off.





CHAPTER 7


Breaking Free

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