Gwennie stood at the front of the room, once again a vision in purple…the kind of vision that you can’t stare at too long.
“Welcome, my dear ones. Let’s have a pop quiz. I think everyone in here can relate to falling just shy of their goals. Do you lose to the heroes because, (A) good is stronger than evil; (B) heroes cheat; (C) they just don’t make curses like they used to; or, (D) deep down, we don’t think we deserve to win.”
A man with a crown and dressed all in red raised his hand. It had a sock puppet on it wearing a red heart dress.
“Yes, Red King.”
“What was the third one again?” he asked in a high-pitched voice, using the sock puppet to talk.
“Anyone else? No?” Gwen sighed.
“The answer is D,” a voice said from the front.
Gwen smiled. “Yes. Good, Mordred. And tell us all why it’s D.”
I leaned over so I could see him.
He put his legs up on the chair next to him and said, “’Tis the answer that sounds the most like a load of bull—”
“Self-sabotage.” Gwen cut him off. “Everyone here is guilty of spoiling plots and years’ worth of machinations just as they are going right, just as opportunity is at your feet. The devil is in the details, and today I’m going to give you each an opportunity to practice getting those details right.” She pulled on a curtain next to her, ripping it from the ceiling. It fell and revealed a bare-chested, chubby, bald man. Who was blue.
The other villains oohed and aahed over the genie. I really hoped it wasn’t Aladdin’s genie, since I had sort of recently melted his lamp in the puce cauldron acid.
Mordred stood up. “I’ll go first.”
“Very brave, but I believe we will start at the back.” Gwen signaled the orderlies to bring up the first of the three troll bridge brothers. “One wish only, and everyone will get a turn. Wishing rules apply. No true love, no killing someone off, and no wishing for more wishes. Think very carefully about what you really want. Be careful what you wish for. And begin.”
“Go, Cletus!” the elder trolls shouted.
“Aw shucks, I don’t need to think. This is easy. I wish for a goat to eat.” Cletus winked his one good eye at the crowd.
The genie folded his arms and bowed. “As you wish.”
With a puff of smoke, Cletus was gone. In his place was a goat, not coincidentally, missing an eye, the same as the troll.
Gwen raked her nails down the chalkboard, getting everyone’s attention but scaring the goat. “You see what happened there? You must be clear and precise in your goals. Focus and believe.” She pointed at the goat. “Give Cletus the tonic to undo the wish.”
A straw-stuffed doll in a pink lab coat clinked beakers and tubes in the corner. “Give me a minute,” an off-key voice sang. “This is precise work.”
The second troll brother caught the goat…then ate him.
The trapped genie smiled a toothy, “the better to eat you” sort of grin. “He asked for a goat, and it was eaten. Wish fulfilled. Anyone else?”
After that demonstration, no one was running down the aisle for their turn. But I had an idea. I opened my mouth and raised my hand. Before I could get out words, a hand clamped across my face and dragged me backward.
“Stop this now!” Kato growled in my ear.
“Mrmrmrmr.” I clawed at his wrist since I couldn’t breathe.
He moved his hand.
“No,” I replied and stomped on his foot.
He grabbed me again, holding me tighter this time but keeping his fingers free of my nose so I could breathe. He dragged me out into the hall.
“You can’t be here,” he said.
“Can we just agree to disagree? You aren’t going to get rid of me.”
“I realize that. What I meant is you can’t be here.” He pointed toward the classroom. “See anyone you know?”
I peeked inside. “Gwen is an obvious one. I didn’t know the genie personally, though he’ll probably be hexed at me for wrecking his home. And I don’t know the pink-lab-coat straw-voodoo doll or the blue-bearded pirate she’s giving the potion to.” I winced because whatever the pirate had wished for caused painful-looking gold locks to erupt all over his skin.
Kato yanked me back again. “That’s not a voodoo doll. That’s a scarecrow.”
I didn’t understand. “And?”
The cursed chorus of twisted voices answered instead, “We remember.”
A memory floated to the surface of my brain, one that wasn’t mine. Instead of watching it, I relived it as if I were Dorthea.
Black Crow stood before me. Her skin turned a sallow yellow and bubbled, dripping like hot wax. One eye drooped down her cheek; the other pleaded with me. Her mouth tilted into a sickening mockery of a grin. Her limbs flattened and went boneless.
A small voice inside me rejoiced. The rest of my conscience recoiled from the monster I had become.
Black Crow’s hand stretched out to me, and I rushed to it. I could fix this. Before I had a chance to help her, she slashed across my palm with a razored feather. Blood flowed freely from the almost surgical slice. I sat motionless as she applied my blood to her melting skin.
The puddling stopped, and her skin reformed into a solid state. She got a little taller and stiffer, the surface of her skin taking a clothlike appearance. Her face looked flat, like someone had painted all her features on. Her limbs got bulbous and lumpy, as though they were stuffed with straw. When the magic finished with her, what was left was not Black Crow.
What remained was a scarecrow.
Once again, I felt satisfied and horrified at what I’d done. Not to mention pity for that poor creature.
No. I refused to feel sorry for that woman. I hit my head on the doorjamb to loosen the bond and get out of Dorthea’s head. Didn’t need her memories. I had my own. My blood still boiled for what Black Crow has done, what she had started.
I vividly remembered being tied to a laundry line, helpless, as Black Crow made a black opal and handed it to Griz. I could never forget Griz piercing my heart and pulling out every last bit of my essence. She captured it in the opal and put the blasted necklace over her head. “If you want to live, you are going to do everything I say. You belong to me now.”
“Rex,” Gwen called. “It’s your turn.”
I hadn’t worried about being recognized at Camelot, since I didn’t look like my wanted posters. Neither did Kato, since the posters showed him in chimera form. And that was how Black Crow had met Kato, as the fur ball prince. But me? I knew she would remember me. Our eyes met.
Crow grabbed for a potion, and I didn’t have much time. Just enough for revenge.
I rubbed my hands together. “With my wish, you’re gonna see what it feels like to have someone wearing your soul.”
“As you wish,” the genie said and bowed. His smile was wider than ever.
Suddenly, my legs felt as if they were being shredded.
I screamed, collapsing to the floor as the genie yanked the boots Dorthea made off by their roots. Blood poured from the holes in my calves. With a snap of the blasted blue bastage’s fingers, I was wearing Crow’s pink slippers with their curled-up toes.