We both gulped as the dust filtered away.
Dorthea’s hair was fully alight and crackling as she walked toward us slowly, purposefully placing each step. Every time her foot hit the ground, the grass would wither and die, leaving a yellow road of destruction in her wake.
“I warned you,” she said.
We have come for you. We have come for you all, the curse added louder than ever. The chorus of voices had grown in number.
I pushed Kato away just before the flames consumed me.
“There’s nothing more awkward than going steady with a new princess and realizing you used to date her uglier stepsister.”
—Prince C., Glass Shoe Diaries
28
The Ex-Factor
All is one and one is all.
The curse’s fire seared my veins, coursing through me. All the while, the chorus spoke to me, whispering of what used to be. Of what is. Of what will be. The fire showed me visions. They didn’t feel like memories, just images that made no sense. A baby. A weeping red tree. A twin-tailed black beast. A mirror with Blanc’s reflection. A flower. A white room filled with boxes that beeped. A sleeping girl. A book. A headstone.
When I opened my eyes, the flames were gone. So was the lake. And Kato. And Dorthea. Somehow I was sitting in Camelot’s library. Gwen and Merlin were bickering about how to formally set tea upon a triangular table. The silver teapot mocked me. My reflection showed a hollow-eyed girl with short, blond spikes. It was me and not me. Rexi. I didn’t recognize her anymore.
Before I forgot, I grabbed the pen from my coat pocket and rolled up my sleeve. The black marks slashed across my skin told me a story I didn’t want to believe. Thirteen. I searched my memories, but they skipped and jumped between past and present, between my experiences and Dorthea’s. I didn’t remember dying the last three times. I remembered being murdered by Crow. After that, there was a memory of death, but neither the recollection nor fatality were mine.
If I recalled the chorus of the damned, I’m positive I heard the scarred chimera, Griff, hissing at me. I spoke my suspicions out loud. “Dorthea used the curse to kill the chimera traitors.”
“Yes. After we left the forest, we took refuge with Bobbledandrophous to finish training. Blanc’s rogue chimeras ambushed us, and Dorthea lost control,” Verte said, settling herself down beside me. “What happened to you? You look like plankton that Monstro the whale spit out.”
“Thanks.”
“And there’s only one way you would know about those nasty beasts.” Getting far too close, she opened my mouth and breathed in. She clucked, her green, crooked nose crinkling. “You didn’t take your medicine like I told you to. Sure, I’ve lived a few hundred years, but no, of course you know better than me. What was it? Couldn’t find a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down?”
“A handshake with Captain Hook went horribly wrong.” I shrugged. “So what are we doing here? Is this a tea intervention or something?”
“Or domething,” Gwen said. No, not Gwen. Hydra. She had a clamp on her nose and had even grown an age spot. She pointed to clamp. “Godoo keep from dneezing. Gwen cand be allowed oud near Dordea.”
“And where is her royal roastiness?”
“In the other room. We are trying to use Kato’s frost powers to chill her the spell out.” Verte sighed. “Out of all the boys in Story… I knew you were likely to end up here, but I didn’t foresee this bippidy backfire.”
“It is exactly what it should be,” Merlin said, taking a seat at the apex of the triangle. “I will take charge of the Girl of Emerald from now on.”
Verte and Hydra both started talking at the same time.
“Wasdn’ dis dable round? I apifically rebeber id being round.”
“What sort of newt-brained idea is that?”
The three of them bickered about what to do next. I wanted no part of it. I had enough internal bickering going on. The longer I was awake, the more I got a handle on the situation. The library had stacks and stacks of musty books and scrolls. There was a cauldron in the corner and an owl sitting on a perch. Upon seeing the little gold hat the owl wore, I remembered something the Lady of the Lake had said.
“That’s not Merlin.”
The three kept arguing over me. I slapped my palm on the table. It crackled and sizzled, leaving a charred palm imprint on the wooden surface. Everyone stilled. “I said, that is not Merlin. That is the Mimicman.”
“Pish,” Verte dismissed. “You’ve been tapping into Dot’s madness and paranoia. There’s not a speck of that gaudy gold on him. And look.” She grabbed him by the beard and shoved his face toward the teapot. “Same reflection.”
She was right. About those two points at least. “How do we know that rule didn’t mend itself? You recognized me as a girl while everyone assumed I was a boy,” I said to Merlin.
“That’s easily explained, as I am a simply a great lover of women.” He swatted at Verte. “Get your gangrenous hands off me, you bitter old hag,” he said, then coughed, straightening up with a pleasant face. “Think about this logically. I came to you for help once Blanc took over Camelot with the villains. Would this Magnificent Mimicman do that?”
I was right. I had to be. Everything added up. I looked at my hand, the slight green smoke wafting off it, and felt the smile on my face.
“What are you doing?” he asked, standing and tripping over his chair as he retreated a few steps.
If I focused, I could see the lines of power running through everything—magical essence that fueled all living and enchanted beings and items. So far I’d gotten the crispy end of the curse, but perhaps that was just because I’d been running away and hadn’t been willing to embrace it. I narrowed my eyes and honed in on the trail of power around him. And I tugged on one of the lines I could see while I borrowed Dorthea’s magic.
I could feel the Emerald curse waking, a grumble thinking of its next meal.
Merlin’s face went slack. “What are you doing? Stop.”
“Blast it all. Now we’ve got two of ’em.” Verte grabbed the teapot and held it like a weapon.
I looked her straight in the eye. “Trust me.”
She hesitated, then lowered it.
“Are you mad?” Merlin turned to Hydra and tried to pull the clamp off her nose. “Help me, Gwenevere.”
“Dope.”
I pulled and wound the power around my hand like a string. There were two lines. One, a thin, gold thread. The other was a thick braid of life magic. The curse was interested in devouring Merlin’s life. I only wanted to disrupt the magic of his glamour. With a final tug, the gold thread snapped.
Merlin gasped and shuddered. He fell to the ground, writhing. For half a second, I thought I’d killed him. Then, fur started spouting all over his body, big black wings grew out of his back, and golden horns twisted from his skull.