Storymakers: Wanted Part 16

"Nah. The only reason I'm putting up with this head is that Gwen has this lore in her bones. It's still here, or she'd know it."

Behind us, the door burst open and Merlin ran into the room. The kitties yowled. They were very efficient alarms.

"It's Mordred," he shouted over the meows.

Hydra covered her face. "Ah...ahhh choo." When she looked up, she was pure Gwen again and surprised to see us. "What is going on now?"

"After the session ended, the black prince used the genie," Merlin answered.

"And? Spit it out," Gwennie snapped.

"Mordred now wields Excalibur."

It was probably a good thing that my lips were sealed. I think curses would have flown that had never been said before. Before Black Crow recognized me, I had been about to do the exact same thing-wish to have Excalibur in my hand. I cursed her. I cursed my luck. I cursed myself because I'd lost sight of my real goal in a fit of anger and fear.

But on the bright side, at least I knew where Excalibur was. And I am the princess of thieves. Stealing is what I do best.

"Rule #24: While it's true that most conflicts can be resolved with a little heart-to-heart talk, that would take out the drama and provide fewer life-or-death situations to bond over before triumph."

-Definitive Fairy-Tale Survival Guide, Love's Special Edition.

26.

Excaliburned.

Working in the Emerald palace kitchens, I'd been to dozens of b.a.l.l.s, just never as a guest. And the party Gwenevere threw in honor of King Mordred that night made even Dorthea's parties look like teatime at Mother Goose's. I kept peeking at Gwen's face to see if she was Hydra, trying to make a play for the sword. But there was nary a wrinkle on her fake, smiling face. As the only girl here-well, the only girl not in disguise-Gwen was the belle of the ball. After Merlin had shared the news about the sword, Gwennie had her orderlies squeeze her into a purple eel-skin corset, which kept her middle rock solid. Unfortunately, the rest of her squished above and below and jiggled fiercely as she danced.

Filling her dance card was no easy task. Like me, none of the villains had ever been invited to a party before. Sure, they'd crashed plenty a celebration, but when you get an invitation, it's bad form to arrive and immediately start cursing the guest of honor.

The food was...interesting. Hansel, who manned the kitchens, had learned a few tricks in the gingerbread cottage. The plate labeled "ladyfingers" made me a bit nervous. One of the other inst.i.tute residents, Hannibal, had no such qualms and wolfed them down. And after Rasputin slipped a little Ever-After-Clear into the punch, the party was in full swing. Puck and his band of satyrs were literally hanging from the rafters.

Kato stayed closer to Mordred than a shadow. Everyone wanted a chance to have a word or ask a favor of the returned king. I stayed in the corner of the ballroom, where, as a servant, I'd learned all the good stuff happens.

To Mordred's face, everyone bowed and said how pleased they were that Excalibur had chosen a king from the dark side of the moat. But as soon as they got out of hearing range, those same people gossiped that he wasn't a true king since he'd gotten the sword magically rather than pulling it from the stone. Maybe the t.i.tle "King of the Villains" was still up for grabs.

The Knights of Knee gave Mordred a potted bush as a sign of friendship, but as they moved past me, the knights whispered that the hybrid poison-ivy plant should free up the throne by morning. And they weren't the only ones playing the game of thrones.

All over the ballroom, villains from opposite stories plotted together in groups. Dr. Jekyll had a lively conversation with the three bears in one corner, while the Headless Horseman and the Jabberwock jabbered by the grand staircase.

The unlikely pairings could've been the successful result of Gwenevere's lessons touting the importance of a healthy support system. You know, "the enemy of my enemy is...someone you can use."

That seemingly applied to friends too.

"Tag. You're it," Kato said and shoved Mordred at me. "Try to get him out of here while I head off Gwen. I think she's trying to drag him back to her room so she can be queen again."

Ew. Mental image.

I didn't ask Kato why I had to help the misogynist Mordred, (A) because my mouth was still glued shut, and (B) because Mordred had had too much punch and couldn't walk straight on his own. Which was going to make it so much easier to steal his sword and toss him into the lake.

Or maybe not. Kato let go of Mordred. He slumped on my shoulders, nearly knocking me over. I've known giants that weighed less.

"Heya. You should have this. Will put hair on thine chinny chin chin." He giggled and slammed his cup into my chest, the liquid inside sloshing up the sides. It smelled rancid and was clearly laced with something stronger than pixie dust. Probably drink of the green fairy.

I shook my head and lumbered out of the room, dragging him on my back. The lake was too far. He'd squish me before we got there. Instead, I headed down the hall to our room.

"A huntsman should be like a wolf and yer just a wee pup. Bark worse than yer bite." Mordred grinned sideways, his eyes lighting up like embers. "Ima just call thee pup."

I was tempted to drop him but settled for merely rolling my eyes hard enough that they should have fallen out. In my mind, I cursed Merlin and his stupid crazy glue and hoped it would wear off soon. Then Mordred would really hear my bark.

"A king can always use a good pup." He lowered his head to my ear. His breath smelled like a tavern. "Lemme tell thee a secret. The crown and the sword is cursed."

That got my attention. I widened my eyes, like, Tell me more.

"Is nay magic. Just the nature of power. 'Tis a heavy trinket and lonely. Arthur went b.l.o.o.d.y mad. Saw danger lurking under every corner." There was no correcting his cliches, as he drunkenly babbled on. "With a single stroke of a pen, our clans were labeled as traitors and threats to his perfect kingdom. He killed me mum, Morgana. And all my kin. Even me wee sister. He started a war to protect the weak, but no one protected us. I tried..." He wiped his face with his sleeve. "I'll find the grail and make it right. S'all that matters."

Once we reached the door, I tried to juggle his weight without falling face-first to the mahogany and iron rivets. Mordred tried to kick it in, but he missed. "Together. One, two, three..." We both planted our heels into the wood, and the door crashed open.

Mordred nodded at my shoes. "An odd one, you are. I like thee better when you aren't yipping. Thou art a good listener. Good pup," he said and patted the top of my head.

This seemed like the perfect opportunity to shove him off. We shuffled over to the bed, and he was snoring before he face-planted on the pillow. I stepped back and looked at the dread prince Mordred, betrayer of Camelot. Pa.s.sed out, his scowl and arrogance were gone. He looked serene, helpless.

The perfect kind of mark, I could hear Dad whisper from my past.

I felt a twinge of guilt. Mordred was right, and Arthur before him. Whether you were a king or just someone who had an object of great worth, you couldn't trust anyone close to you. It was human nature to look out for number one-or to make sure you became number one.

Even sleeping, Mordred kept one hand on his ax. His coat shifted to the side and revealed his other hand resting on what I could only guess was Excalibur. He hadn't taken it out of its scabbard to show anyone its holy glow, but I recognized the fabled hilt.

Very carefully, I lifted his hand, one finger at a time, off the sapphire-encrusted handle. I tugged softly to release it from its sheath. But the sword didn't budge. Mordred had too much weight on it.

Well, hex. I wasn't going to give up, not when I was sooo close to claiming the sword and breaking the bond to Dorthea forever. Just a nudge of his shoulder...

It happened fast. I pushed and Mordred pulled, yanking me down to the bed. I thought for sure my head was about to be lopped off. Hydra would probably add it to her collection. But no. Instead of bringing the ax to me, he wrapped me up to his chest like a velveteen rabbit, murmuring something about his Beboo. Very gently, he brushed his lips across mine. It felt like a lick of fire.

Then he snored louder than before.

"Ack!" I didn't have a free hand or I would have scrubbed my lips till they fell off. I wiggled, I squiggled, I kicked and shoved, but the man was made of iron and wouldn't budge. At least I could move my mouth again and speak. Why did all spells have to involve kissing?

I thought about yelling for help but was afraid of who might answer. So I waited and waited until Kato slipped into the room. He took one look at me and covered his mouth, guffawing.

"I didn't mean to intrude. I can come back," Kato teased.

I glared hard enough I hoped it hurt him. "Very funny, fur face. Will you get me out already?"

"And you can talk again. That's too bad." He walked closer. "I was enjoying the silence. Better tell me what happened." He crouched down and helped pry me loose.

I explained that I was trying to swipe the sword. I left out that I wasn't sure what I was going to do with it afterward.

"And then he grabbed me and..." I'd gotten loose enough at that point to wipe my lips with the back of my hand.

I expected Kato to laugh, but he paled instead. Did the kiss bother him? My pulse went up a notch. He looked away. "I'm sorry. I know how you feel."

"Huh?"

"I had to dance with Gwen to keep her from coming after you guys." Kato scrubbed at his mouth and tongue.

"Ew... How are you not..." I raised my hands up like claws and made the closest rawr face to a chimera's that I could.

"I wouldn't exactly call it true love's kiss." He crawled back and started helping me free again. "But still, let's keep this between us. Telling Dorthea would be a bad idea."

He is mine...

I thought of the green-eyed, blazing reflection "message" Dorthea had sent me and shuddered.

With a final yank, Kato pulled me free. I rolled off the bed and onto him in a heap. I started to push myself up, but Kato held me still. "Shhh," he whispered in one ear. Mordred grunted on the bed, feeling around for the warm "Beboo" he'd just lost.

Each grain of sand that ticked through the hourgla.s.s felt like forever. I would have much rather been cuddled to Mordred, if only because those "get me out" feelings made a lot more sense than the jumble of emotions I felt for Kato.

Finally, he tapped me on the arm and let go. "I think we're safe. Go to sleep and let evil sleeping kings lie. We can try again tomorrow."

I didn't say anything but skulked off. My face was as red as Dorthea's heels, while Kato was cool and not the least bit self-conscious. And why should he be? I was just Rex the Huntsman. I was just one of the guys.

I looked down at the shoes Dorthea had made with loathing. These weren't rooted on, so I still had a choice to wear them or not. I took them off, tired of feeling conflicted. Shadowy tendrils crept from my feet up the moonlit wall to form the shape of a man.

"Miss me?"

Sick to my stomach, I crammed my feet back into the boots. Seeing Morte loom over me was upsetting-but even more upsetting was discovering that my feelings for Kato were the same whether the shoes were on or off.

"Perception is reality. If you don't like someone's reality, change their perception. Forcibly if necessary."

-Seven Habits of Highly Evil People.

27.

Pearl of Wisdom.

Bad dreams and the snoring of two royal boys kept me up most of the night. No sooner had I fallen asleep than I heard my name being called.

"Rexi."

I put my pillow over my head. "Go away."

"Rexi."

I threw my pillow across the room and bolted upright. "What?!"

Both boys groaned and snorted groggily. But there was no one else in the room. I looked at my feet. Shoes were still on. Not Morte.

"Rexi!" This time the voice was impatient. And my wrist burned. The glimmering mark of a water lily appeared. Poking my head out the window, I could see the lake and a school of jellyfish shimmering on top of the water.

I was being summoned.

Watching to make sure the boys stayed asleep, I tiptoed toward the door, keeping the gold heels from clicking on the stone floor. If I had been watching my feet, I wouldn't have tripped over an unexpected roommate.

"Oh. Don't mind me. Better to be noticed later rather than never," the little emerald dragon sniffed.

"Shhhh, you'll wake them."

"Too late," Mordred said, holding his head. "Will someone tell little boy blue to stop his b.l.o.o.d.y horn?"

Kato snorted. "I think you had a bit too much grog."

"No such thing."

While they did their guy bonding, I made my way to the exit.

"Where are you going?" Kato asked.

Stupid, nosy... "I reek. I'm, uh, going to the lake for a quick bath."

Mordred threw off his covers and sat up. "Wait for me. I shall go with you."

"No!" Kato and I shouted together.

Mordred frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "I know not what to make of you sometimes. If you two want to go bathe alone..."

"No!" we said together again.

I hoped the red in my face made me look angry not embarra.s.sed. "I'm going. By myself. Don't follow me."

Mordred frowned. "And that's not suspicious at all."

Kato jumped in. "He sings while he bathes. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor."

"Fine," Mordred grumbled. "Keep your b.l.o.o.d.y secrets. I had no desire to spend time with you anyway." Double-checking his hips for both weapons, Mordred strode from the room, going out of his way to b.u.mp into me on the way out.

Kato sighed and rolled up to standing. "I better follow him and keep watch. All I'm gonna say is stay out of trouble."

I shrugged. "Sure. You know me."

"Which is exactly why I said it." He jogged out to catch up to Mordred.