Charmed (Fairy Tale Reform School, #2)

“Kayla!” I shake her by the arm. “We have to go before Pete gets back.”


“Those two! They were with that boy!” the woman says.

I turn around, and Pete and I make eye contact. I grab Kayla as Pete’s voice rings out loud and clear. “Gillian Cobbler!”

Fiddlesticks. I’ve been made again.





CHAPTER 8


Fight or Flight

Pete can’t prove it’s me if he can’t catch me. I pull Kayla with me, bobbing and weaving through the carts as I hear Pete’s horse grow closer. We need a distraction so we can get to the valet stand first and warn the others.

“Gilly, stop right there!” Pete gallops closer. That’s when I spot the apple cart.

“I’m sorry,” I say to the apple vendor as I pull his cart down on its side and apples roll into the cobblestone street.

“Aaah! Gilly!” I hear Pete screech as his horse stops short and Pete goes flying from the saddle. I watch him land on a bag of apples and wince. That had to hurt. “I’ll find you!” he yells. “I always find you!”

I jump and weave over the apples, using Pete’s momentary downfall as a chance to duck down an alley that I’m sure leads to the valet stand. Kayla is slow for some reason, but I manage to slip into the Pegasi valet stand without Pete nabbing us. I blend into the crowd of royals and royal wannabes standing in a long line as Pegasi coaches pull up.

Doormen open approaching coach doors and usher in riders, and the next group takes off in flight as magic carpets stop by those still in line to drop off giant packages and heavy items. In their beautiful satin gowns and smart dress coats and with their arms filled with bags, these royals and wannabes look like they don’t have a care in the world. I bet they don’t.

“Psst, over here!” I hear someone say. I look at the back of the line and see Maxine, Ollie, and Jax crouched behind a pile of hay for the Pegasi. We rush over and I pull them to the water troughs where Pegasi are often not allowed to go and rest. I take one look at Ollie and punch him in the arm.

“I know,” he sighs, his lips covered in caramel. “I had what Professor Harlow would call a relapse.” He offers me a cake. “Want one?”

“We were this close to figuring out the code to the HEAS door,” Jax says dejectedly. “We just needed one more person to go in so we could figure out the last number.”

“Not that anyone noticed I was there!” Maxine says miserably. “Now we’ve busted out and are going to get caught for nothing,” she adds.

“Not for nothing,” Kayla says. “Look! A woman in a red cloak handed me a note.” She holds out a small scroll. We grab it and read the scrawled wording.


STAY ON THE RIGHT SIDE. SCHOOL IS STILL THE SAFEST PLACE TO BE. AS YOU KNOW TOO WELL, KAYLA, DEALS CAN BE DANGEROUS. TELL YOUR HEADMISTRESS SHE WILL SOMEDAY REGRET MAKING ARRANGEMENTS WITH THOSE SHE DOES NOT TRUST COMPLETELY.



“She must be the person at HEAS who has been giving Maxine notes,” Kayla says. “And now she is giving me one too. There must be a reason.”

“I saw her in the square too, doing magic,” I tell the others. “She seemed familiar. If she’s really our source, she must know us somehow.”

“Did you get a look at her?” Jax asks Kayla.

Kayla shakes her head. “I couldn’t see her face. She moved so fast, but I think she’s talking about Rumpelstiltskin in this note.”

Maxine covers her ears. “Don’t say his name!”

“Do you think this source knows where my family is?” Kayla asks.

“I’m not sure, but she’s definitely trying to help us, and she’ll probably contact us again soon,” Jax reasons, glancing around the crowded valet stand. “But if we want that to happen, first we need to get out of this village. My money is on taking one of these beauties.” He nods to the Pegasi.

“Sure, let me just go into my dragon’s tooth purse and take out my money for a ride,” I say sarcastically. “No one is going to give us a lift, especially to FTRS. I say we go back to Gnome-olia and get a ride with them tomorrow.”

“Ooh, the bak over soun grea idea.” Ollie’s words are muffled by a caramel cake he’s stuffed in his mouth. I grab the bag and toss it. He looks like he might cry.

“No, we need to get back today,” Jax insists. “Pete will alert the school otherwise. We need to hitch a ride with someone going our way. Like those two.” Jax points to two girls who have just joined the back of the line. I’d recognize them anywhere by the curls in their hair, the long, green-and-royal-blue gowns, and the gloves on their hands. They’re Flora’s daughters, the wicked stepsisters, and despite whispers to the contrary, they are actually beautiful. And whiny.

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