Verte’s green complexion also dimmed, going from a dark moss to princess pea soup. “Spells bells. Anything but that.”
I racked my brain going through all of Fairy Tale’s families. The surname was familiar, but it wasn’t coming to me. Who knows what other chunks of memory I’d sacrificed to Morte?
Oz stroked his mustache, seemingly forgetting that the toad was attached to it, despite the angry ribbits. “There are few wizards powerful enough to charm a fair-e-mail across Myth and into Fairy Tales. But only one wizard is left who’d actually want to talk to her. Good luck. You’ll need it.”
Puzzle solved, his curiosity waned, so he poofed himself into a fist-size, horned rhimouserous and scampered off into his workshop.
Immediately after, the building shrank back into the ground, the cracks knitting back together as if they had never been there.
“Coward,” Verte said with a tsk.
“Do I want to know the her Oz referred to?” Without waiting for an answer, I held the message as far from me as possible. If the useless Storyfaker wanted nothing to do with it, then surely I didn’t either.
“Ooh, is it a love letter? The suspense is killing me.” Dorthea took the pouch off my finger, then yelped trying to open it.
The fairy frog beat its wings together at Tinker Bell speed. It darted away like a pink, slimy, mutant humdinger bird, with ribbits that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Verte swiped the letter and bonked Dorthea on the head with it for good measure. “You newt-brained ninny. What sort of big shot wizard would send a message that any nosy princess could read? Good thing that Merl has a wee bit of a cauldron problem”—she brought her hand to her lips and mimed drinking—“or else he might have remembered to add a self-destruct spell.”
“Yeah, lucky me.” Dorthea shook out her injured hand and stared after the rapidly disappearing winged frog. “I don’t imagine it’s good for anyone to know where we are. Will you go after her?” Dorthea asked Kato.
He’d been human for all of two minutes, but still Kato grinned (all too eagerly in my opinion) and spun Dorthea dramatically into his arms as he puckered up.
I groaned. “Hey, Tweedle Ditz and Tweedle Dumb. Anyone else think that, I don’t know, maybe sending the furry beast that’s on wanted posters all over the forest is a really bad idea?” I held my hand up.
Verte raised her hand and cackled. Hydra made a few gagging sounds, which I was counting as a solid vote in agreement.
“Besides.” I squinted and pointed to the frog sitting atop of the tallest ironwood. “Everyone knows that fair-e-mail messengers don’t get paid until the letter is delivered to the actual recipient. She’s not going anywhere.”
Verte tapped the wart on her crooked nose. “Glad one of ya still has the sense Grimm gave you.” She walked over to Hydra and knocked the bow with her foot. “Well, Rexi, per the usual criminal patterns, you have a new toy, so you musta made it to the pawn shop. Did ya get what we ordered?”
I took out the small, brown box from my pack and handed it to her. “Yeah, I got it.” Though it felt like it had been days rather than hours since my brief trip into Nottingham.
“Good, we gots a letter to read.” Verte conferred in nonsense babble with Hydra. Once that was done, the sorceress handed out orders. “Dot, you and your thief buddy need to go get a chest out of the attic. It’s next to the other unspeakable things.”
I didn’t budge, because I had already seen the gizzards, lizards, oozing eyeballs, and carnivorous houseplants that Hydra kept in her pantry. I really didn’t want to know what “unspeakable things” she kept in the attic.
Sensing my reluctance, Verte sighed and her face softened, making her look like a sweet old lady. Which made me want to say, Oh, Grandma, what big teeth you have…
“Or perhaps Hydra would be a dear and get it? Oh, I forgot she can’t. Some thieving traitor led the giant Tinman to the rainbow where he kersquished her body.”
Hydra managed to summon a single, sparkling tear. Apparently she was as skilled at guilt trips as she was at swapping heads.
Dorthea didn’t look too excited to do the errand either. “Wouldn’t it be better if Kato went?”
“Why no, it pos-o-tutely wouldn’t. Now go and take the enchant-alator.”
I peered around the chicken leg to where Verte pointed and saw a shimmery glitter tube spiraling upward. “No one could have told me about the enchant-alator before I climbed those scrawny drumsticks?”
“No time. Git.”
I did have to begrudgingly admit, the enchanta-lator was a nice addition. Dorthea and I rode up in silence, the green flaming tips of her hair sparked and hissed, speaking volumes.
“What?” I asked. Though if I really focused, I could have used our bond to see what she wanted.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Stop using my life like it’s a credit card you order shoes with and quit murdering me. That’d be a solid start.”
Dorthea stared down her nose at me. “I said I was sorry, okay. But that’s not what I meant.”
I sighed. “Let me guess. That mumbo dumbo pix about ceasing to exist that Verte spouted.” And Morte. I was worried about it too, but since no one knew about my grim reaper… “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Of course you don’t, but we’re going to anyway.”
“Because you command it, Your Highness?” I said with a fake bow, my tone lower and rough like sandpaper.
“No, because I’m your friend and I care about you and I’ll keep bringing it up until you deal.” Dorthea huffed, her flaming hair flared brief but blindingly. “What was that? Did your shadow just move on its own? That’s crazy.”
“Yes, you are. I’m glad you finally noticed.” The tube dinged at the top of the chicken hut just in time. I stepped out hastily to put some distance between us. “Let’s just find the chest and get out of here. This place creeps me out.” The creaky wooden attic had more cobwebs than walls. And I was pretty sure I saw fangs on the dust bunnies that were flitting in the dark corners.
Dorthea had obviously stopped short with her makeover before she hit the attic. Good thing, since it would have sucked my life force dry. And I’m not entirely certain I could come back from that. Before she’d made the wish that broke the world to pieces, I’d been privy to the other servants’ gossip in the Emerald Palace for six years. I’d thought the Emerald curse was just a bunch of hooey the king and queen concocted to excuse keeping their daughter locked up.
Yeah…not so much.
Girl of Emerald, no man can tame. Burn down the World, consumed by flames.
A prophecy, a threat, a promise—who knew? The source of her magic, the green flames that lived inside her, that danced on the tips of her hair, that leaped to her hands at the barest spike of her temper—it was hungry, always looking for more energy. And I was the most readily available snack.
Whack.
Something hit me in the back of the head.
“Are you even listening to me?” Dorthea said, shoe still in hand.
“Nope.”