Wanted (Spelled #2)

“Aye, if that’s what you want, but don’t hold back. He’s a scrappy one.” Mordred backed away. “Appearances are deceiving.”

“You have no idea,” Kato said under his breath and charged at me again.

I took off running, but the ground was sloshy and my boots sunk, throwing off my balance and sending me sprawling in the mud. Within seconds, Kato was on top of me again.

“That’s good,” he said. “Keep acting like you’re struggling.”

“It’s not…an act.” I squirmed to get away, but he put more weight on my legs, so I couldn’t repeat the same move.

“Listen. We don’t have time before the orderlies get here.” With a swift flip, he rolled so that I was on top. The new vantage point made it so I could see the line of knights in white armor headed our way.

“What are you doing, Kay?” Mordred called.

Kato groaned. “Sorry about this, but we’re running out of time,” he said and threw me off, harder than he had to, in my opinion.

“Out of time until what?” I whispered.

He waited until I regained my feet and then tossed me the crossbow. My only choice was to use it to block his fake parries with the ax. With each clash, we continued our out-of-breath conversation under the guise of sparring.

“They’re going to take us to Gwenevere.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No!”

“But isn’t that Hydra?”

“Sorta. It’s different now. I don’t have time for an explanation, and you’re not sticking around long enough to need one. Just get away from here as soon as they let you.”

“And if I can’t do that?”

“Argh. You are impossibly stubborn. Just watch yourself cuz I can’t protect you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

The row of white knights had already taken Mordred and were just steps away from us. Kato finished the spar with one last swing of his ax, knocking me off my feet.

“No hard feelings,” Kato said.

“Then what was that for?” I grumbled.

“Huntsman don’t wear heels.”

I looked down, and sure enough, the bottom of my boots had been shorn off. I had little doubt that wherever Dorthea was, she was horrified at the fashion mutilation. Or maybe those were my feelings. It was getting harder to separate them anymore. And I didn’t have time to try before a pair of orderlies grabbed my arms.

“Don’t struggle on the way to the headmistress, assuming you wish to meet her in one piece.”





“Rule #19: Be kind to all. When throwing a ball or event, it’s imperative to be inclusive. One lost invitation to an evil fairy has been known to ruin a whole party.”

—Definitive Fairy-Tale Survival Guide, Volume 2: Villains





20


    It’s Only a Model


I complied with the orderlies’ request because I really did not want to go into the double-digit death count, but also because I was pixing confused. Going to see Hydra should have been positive, but both Kato and Mordred looked as if they were marching toward the hangman’s noose. The orderlies led us over the hill toward a huge stone castle. A sign stood out front. It did not say Camelot.

Academy of Villains: Legends Campus

“Change of management, indeed,” I said, swearing under my breath.

I expected that we’d go into the castle, but we were prodded past the entrance to a much smaller version of Camelot. Chintzy construction. More like a shack covered with an elaborate facade to mimic a castle.

Well, that solved the mystery of what happened to Hydra’s chicken house. Gwennie apparently lived in a model castle.

An orderly knocked on the door, then turned tail and ran, taking the rest of the white knights with him. Mordred shifted from foot to foot, probably wondering if he could follow suit. A panel in the door slid open, showing a wide-faced old man with an epic amount of facial hair. The long, white beard curled in tendrils, like he had a hairy octopus stuck to his chin rather than a beard.

“Please tell me that’s not Hydra,” I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for Kato to hear me.

“Merlin,” he answered. “And don’t speak unless you absolutely have to, since you sound like a girl.”

“And why shouldn’t I? Isn’t Merlin the guy who sent the fair-e-mrph—” Kato put me in a headlock, a hand over my mouth, cutting me off.

“The great and magnificent Merlin has far better things to do than deal with…” The man squinted through his inch-thick glasses. “You boys again. And—ack. You’re multiplying.”

“Why did the alarm go off? Did any girls breach the defenses? Drown them. Throw them in the lake. Just keep the hussies away from me!” a shrill voice called from inside.

“Just the usual troublemakers. I’ll handle it,” boomed Merlin.

“What’s taking so long?” she yelled. “Is Sparkles all right?”

I pried Kato’s hand off me and snorted. “Sparkles?”

Mortimer, the emerald dragon, ignored me and put his claw to his head. “I’ll find a way to soldier on somehow, though I’ve been gravely wounded,” he yelled loudly so the woman inside could hear him.

Merlin added another circle of glass to his spectacles, presumably upping the magnification. While he gave me a once-over, he chewed on his lip, which made his octopus-beard look like it was doing a jig. “Get out of my sight while you can.” When I didn’t move fast enough, he opened the door a crack and tried pushing me away. From inside the mini-castle, a chorus of yowls answered him and “Sparkles” slipped by Merlin and dashed inside.

Merlin grabbed my wrist. With a screech, he released his grip just as fast. “Bloody magnificent. What have you gone and done now?” he moaned, cradling his fingers like I’d burned them. “As if things weren’t complicated enough. Well, you can’t very well leave now. After that much caterwauling and the tattling gemstone nuisance, Gwenevere will demand to see you, boy.” The door pulled open all the way, opening the air to the full effect of the meowing alarms. “Walk quickly through the catacombs if you value your hearing.”

The catacombs was actually a hallway of crystal cat trinkets. They were all different sizes and colors. One or two had clearly seen better days, having been glued back together. But all were alive and howling as Mortimer trotted Mordred, Kato, and I down the hall.

Hydra’s house was an assault to my senses. Underneath the meowing and hissing, I could just make out the steady thrum of a Taylor Quick song: I knew you were evil when you walked in. The smell of moldy roses lingered in the air. My eyes had trouble adjusting to the astounding amount of purple waiting for us at the end of hall. Rug, walls, drapes, and.…

“Oh my Grimm.”

I could only stare dumbly at the woman behind the desk. A woman wearing a deep-purple, dragon-skin muumuu, which considering her massive girth, made her look a bit like the dragon Barney.

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