"You don't get a hold of Jack. He contacts us here and there when he can, but there's no way to get a hold of him. Sometimes we don't even see him. He just leaves a letter for Tress or some info about the witches."
Molly squeezed the letter in her hand. “So, you mean to tell me that we have to sit around and wait for him to make contact again?”
“No, you don’t,” Owen said. “You have a house full of magic and extraordinary young women who can do the most amazing things I have ever seen. Figure something out.”
He was right. Between all of them, there had to be a solution to this colossal problem. "You're right. We'll find a way." There was a long pause between them. "I hate this," Molly said. "I've almost forgotten what you look like." That wasn't very true but saying that felt a lot safer than saying, I miss you.
Owen laughed. “It’s only been a couple of days. Am I that forgettable? Well, that’s too bad because I could never forget what you look like.”
Molly was glad that Owen couldn’t see how red her face must have been. “Good. I should get inside and tell the others.”
“All right.” Owen sounded disappointed. “Do you think maybe you can come out around seven so we can talk? I love my dad and all but only having him to hang out with is driving me bonkers.”
Molly smiled at that. “Sure. I’ll meet you back here at seven.”
They said their goodbyes and Molly headed inside. In the dining room, everyone was already digging into their breakfasts speaking in hushed tones. A silver dome waited at Molly’s empty seat.
"Good morning, Ms. Dillinger," the girls said in unison. "Good morning, girls." She headed over to Ms. Bea. "Owen found a letter Jack wrote to Tress. Everyone should hear what it says." Silence fell over the dining room immediately. Everyone watched Molly as she handed the note to Ms. Bea. Her eyes ran over the message before she passed it to Ms. Halifax who had been staring at both of them quizzically. Since Ms. Bea didn’t appear to want to be the bearer of the news, Molly decided she would tell the girls herself.
“Well, there is some good news. The witches didn’t send the vines, so they haven’t discovered our location just yet. Jack did send them, however. He thought he was doing it to protect us.”
Within seconds the silence was filled with shouting and complaints. Isleen glared at Tress. “That bumbling idiot! The beanstalks! I should have known your stupid boyfriend was behind all this.”
“It’s not her fault,” Lily shouted, then she put her hands on her cheeks. “Oh, Jack. What have you done?”
Ms. Halifax took a sip of her tea looking unconcerned. "Well, we did expect the witches to be upset about Chessy and Dr. Meyer. The silly boy thought we needed extra protection because of that."
The Cheshire Cat had been the pet of the Moonhaven Coven. He would visit the fireplace and taunt everyone about how far they were from breaking the curses. On his last visit, Ms. Bea had unraveled him and used him to make her magic stronger.
There was more shouting and sad explanations from poor Tress trying to defend Jack’s actions. “He did it with good intentions—he just didn’t think it all the way through. He only wanted to keep us safe.” Then she stood and turned to Molly. “Ms. Dillinger, may I keep the letter? It really is addressed to me.”
That was true. “Sure,” Molly said, handing it to her.
Isleen slammed her glass of orange juice down on the table. “I can’t believe all you’re thinking about is a love letter when that imbecile is the reason we’re in this mess.”
The room broke into confusion until Ms. Bea stood and clapped her hands. “Ladies, please. All this shouting isn’t going to solve anything.”
Molly nodded. “She’s right. But I do know what we can do, or at least try. I’m mad at myself for not thinking about it earlier.”
“What Ms. Dillinger?” Scarlett asked.
Molly cleared her throat, remembering Owen's words. "If you can defeat a giant wolf, surely you can get through this." She glanced at Ms. Bea. "Ms. Bea is doing everything she can with her magic, but in the meanwhile, let's put your talents to good use. Jolie—plants and flowers are your specialties. You know as much as any botanist, if not more, right?"
Jolie shrugged. “I guess so. Yes, but I don’t see—”
Molly pointed toward the window. "Are those beanstalks nothing more than giant plants? A girl like you who knows everything there is to know about plants can certainly take care of that.”
Jolie frowned. “But I’ve only worked with normal-sized plants, not giant ones. I know how to make plants thrive, not how to kill them.”
"But what if you wanted to kill a plant?" Molly asked. "How would you handle weeds in your garden?"
Jolie looked thoughtful as she took a sip from her teacup. Lily nodded. “That’s a great idea, I think.”
But Molly wasn’t done. “I think Gretchen can help you.”
Gretchen, whose mouth was full of strawberry Danish, widened her eyes. “Me? How?”
Molly walked over to her. “You can whip up a recipe for anything. You and Jolie can work together to come up with a magic beanstalk killer.”
Gretchen locked eyes with Jolie. “I guess we could. Whatever we come up with we’re going to need tons of. There’s a lot of ground to cover. We can do this, Jolie.”
Jolie still looked pretty unsure, but she smiled slightly. “Yeah. What have we got to lose anyway?”
Ms. Bea stood. “That sounds like a plan, girls. That will be your sole project for now. The kitchen and all its ingredients are at your disposal. Let me know what else you need.”
Isleen scoffed. “Oh, this is rich. We have a fairy who has kidnapped us and locked us away so that she can protect us”—she placed the words protect us in air quotes—"yet our fate is in the hands of a gardener girl and a twisted chef."
Both Jolie and Gretchen were prepared with a retort when Ms. Halifax cleared her throat, rising from her chair. “Don’t you want those beanstalks gone too? I would think you would have a much more positive outlook than that, Isleen unless you have a better idea on how to get rid of them." Without waiting for Isleen to answer, she added. "I didn't think so." Then she turned to Ms. Bea. "I will be in my office if you need me."
Ms. Bea nodded and glared at Isleen. Molly could tell that she was both angry and hurt by the girl’s words. Molly moved toward her seat. “Well, let all finish our breakfasts and get ready for class, with the exception of Jolie and Gretchen, of course.”
Slowly everyone went back to eating except for Isleen who kept shooting eye-daggers at everyone, including her and Ms. Bea. Molly didn't care much about that, but Lily's words sprang into her mind. Izzy is always up to something.
That day in class, although it wasn’t her favorite topic, Molly spoke to the girls about politics, the current government, and how elections worked. There was so much to learn that couldn’t be found in books. They needed to be updated on current events. When they left the house, they would be voting on future presidents and other government officials. They needed to know how to make informed decisions.
The girls took notes and asked any questions they had. Once Molly was done, they broke off on their own to prepare for the debate that would take place in the upcoming days. Isleen, assigned to go against Lily, had been adamant about the two debating the true identity of the villain and hero in the story Sleeping Beauty. Lily had no problem with that. Molly wondered how Isleen would manage to make the bitter fairy who had cursed Briar Rose into sixteen years of sleep simply because she hadn’t been invited to the party, look like a hero.
Something didn’t sit right with her. “Isleen,” Molly said, “can I speak with you for a second please?”
"Sure, Ms. Dillinger." She left Tress with the notebook. Molly assumed she was using it to write her debate points.
Molly led Isleen into the hallway, closing the door to the Great Study behind her. Leaning against the wall, Isleen stared at her expectantly. “Yes, Ms. Dillinger.”
Taking a deep brea
th, Molly knew she had to phrase her words just right. "Isleen, you're not a stupid girl, so I won't treat you like you are. I didn't think you were up to something until you were insistent on doing Sleeping Beauty. Turning the fairy who cursed Briar Rose into a hero is almost like saying the Moonhaven witches, the witches who cursed you, aren’t the villains in our present situation. Lily could come up with a hundred arguments that could work in her favor, so why are you doing this?”
Isleen's jaw dropped. "Why, Ms. Dillinger, are you calling me a loser? Are you trying to convince me to give up? Don't you believe in me?"
Molly folded her arms over her chest. “I had the decency not to insult your intelligence, please don’t insult mine. Why are you doing this? Why Sleeping Beauty?” Molly thought maybe Isleen just wanted to get everyone all riled up, but now, she sensed that there was a deeper reason.
Isleen dropped the wide-eyed-innocent routine. Her lips curved into a smirk. "You can scream something over and over at the top of your lungs, and people still won't listen to you. When that happens, you have to try to a different way of getting your point across."
Molly frowned, trying to perceive where Isleen could be going with this.
"I like a challenge. Ms. Dillinger, this house can be very, very boring, even more so now that we're trapped inside. Why don't you just sit back and enjoy the show?" Then she slipped back into the study, leaving Molly to believe that she was one hundred percent up to something.
8
MOLLY
THUNDER ROARED, SHAKING THE windows of Molly’s bedroom. Although she couldn’t look out and see the sky, she could imagine how threatening it must have looked. It had started storming in the late afternoon and hadn’t stopped since. The power had gone out shortly after dinner time. Molly was disappointed that she’d had to cancel her talk with Owen. She had been looking forward to spending some time with him.
Molly was having a hard time sleeping. She tried reading, listening to soft music, and drinking some Valerian tea, but none of that was doing any good. She couldn’t focus on the book, the music had become an annoyance, and the tea was only making her get up to go to the bathroom every five minutes. She’d resorted to counting sheep when there was a frantic knock on her door. “Ms. Dillinger!”
Molly recognized Ms. Halifax’s voice. She sounded terrified. Molly hurried to the door and flung it open. She could only make out the silhouette of the woman’s small frame in the darkness. “Ms. Halifax, what’s the matter?”
“I kept hearing strange noises, so I checked all the girls’ rooms.”
Molly had already checked the rooms hours before because that was her job, but the girls were known to leave their bedrooms after room check. She wondered how Ms. Halifax could hear anything outside of her room over the incessant thunder.
“All the girls were accounted for,” Ms. Halifax continued, “so I went down to the basement to check on Scarlett and Oriana . . .”
Molly shivered as Ms. Halifax’s voice trailed off. “And what?”
"Oriana is in her cage asleep, but the door to Scarlett's cage is open, and she's gone."
Molly’s blood went cold as she remembered the discussion she and Scarlett had. “I thought we were taking extra precautions. How did she get out?”
Ms. Halifax's head shook in the darkness. "That cage was bolted shut from the outside, and we'd placed huge crates in front of it. Fifteen of them. She shouldn't have been able to get out."
No, she shouldn’t have but she was and that had to be dealt with right then and there. “We have to find her right now, but we have to be very careful.”
Just then, the sounds of something crashing came from the third floor above them. If Molly had to guess, it sounded like a table had been knocked over, and something made of glass had shattered. Several of the bedroom doors flew open. Lily stuck her head out. "What was that?"
Tress crept into the hallway. “Do you know how long it took me to finally fall asleep? What’s going on?”
They were soon followed by Jolie and Gretchen who were also questioning the noise.
“Girls,” Molly said sharply. “I need you to get back in your rooms right now.”
“Why?” asked a voice from the other end of the hallway. Isleen. Ms. Halifax shone the small flashlight she was carrying in that direction. Isleen stood there holding hands with Allison who was licking an ice cream cone.
“Izzy, what do you think you’re doing?” Lily demanded. “Why is Allison out of bed?”
Isleen seemed amused by Lily’s worry. “Well, I was up as usual, and I found Allison wandering down the hallway. She said she wanted a snack, so I fixed her one. Is that a crime?”
“Liar!” Lily accused. “She never wakes up in the middle of the night like that. You woke her. Why?”
While Molly sensed that Isleen was up to something, but there was a far more pressing issue. She slipped into her bedroom to grab her lantern from the desk before returning to the hallway. "Girls, I need you to listen to me."
She'd thought about the promise she'd made Scarlett. She didn't want to have to tell the other girls, but they needed to know that they were in danger. They had a right to know. Molly took a headcount. They were all accounted for except for Ori who was in the basement and Marina who was sleeping in the War Room. Ms. Bea had placed a bed there so she'd have easier access to the pool.
A low growl came from somewhere nearby. It sounded like it had come from the staircase. "Shhhhh," Molly hissed, switching off her lantern. Ms. Halifax did the same with her flashlight. Molly took a quick assessment of everyone else in the house. The Glam Squad had their own quarters. There was a loft above the Glam Room where they locked themselves away at night. They had everything they needed there, so they never left their rooms until the dawn. The kitchen and housekeeping staff had their own section on the other side of the kitchen. They never ventured into the house after hours either. Molly had to worry about the girls, herself, Ms. Halifax and . . .
“Where’s Ms. Bea?” she whispered into the darkness.
Ms. Halifax exhaled loudly. "She's doing a restoration. That means she sleeps for a long time to preserve the strength of her magic and she can't be wakened or disturbed."
Perfect timing, Molly thought as her heart sank. She could have used some magic right about then.
After a few booming rolls of thunder, another growl made Molly flinch. This one sounded closer. Goosebumps rose on Molly’s arm.
“What is that?” Jolie asked, her voice quivering.
“It’s Scarlett.,” Molly answered. “Somehow she’s gotten out.”
Lily breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, is that all? She knows us. She won’t hurt us, right?”
"Not necessarily," Molly said. "Long story short, sometimes when Scarlett is in wolf form, there's no telling what she'll do."
“What?” Isleen asked gruffly.
Molly tried to explain it the best she could. “She told it to me this way—good wolves don’t hurt people, but bad wolves are another story. They will destroy anyone in their path. Sometimes she's a good wolf, and sometimes she's a bad one."
A bone-chilling sound kept anyone from asking more questions about that. Another growl—this one was much closer than the others and filled with malice. Everyone turned toward the end of the hallway. Ms. Halifax flicked her flashlight on and pointed it toward the sound. A large gray wolf with callous, yellow eyes stared them down.
Molly held up her hand. “Nobody move. Nobody make a sound. She turned her lantern back on and made her way to the front of the group. Scarlett made eye contact with her and Molly wondered what was going on in her head. “Scarlett? Are you a good wolf or a bad wolf?”
Scarlett stood frozen. Molly repeated her question. That time Scarlett lowered her head and released a low, throaty noise.
“Are you a good wolf or a bad wolf?” Molly asked for a third time, knowing that Scarlett had to answer and that she had to answer truthfully. That time Scarlett raised her left leg and snarled.
Molly froze, remembering the words, It’s good to be right.
“Why is she doing that?” Isleen asked.
“Because she’s a bad wolf,” Gretchen answered breathlessly.
"Run!" Molly shouted. Just as everyone rushed to the bedroom door closest to them, the doors slammed shut, making the entire hallway vibrate. Molly grabbed the doorknob to her bedroom and frantically tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. The knob wouldn't even turn. She threw all her weight against it, but it was no use. In the darkness, she heard the others doing the same, but it was as if all the doors had been cemented shut. Nothing stood in between them and Scarlett.
“What’s happening?” Tress screamed, her voice coated in fear. That was a good question. Molly wished she could answer.
“Down the hallway, girls!” Ms. Halifax ordered. Sounds of pounding feet and panicked screams filled the hallway as everyone took off in that direction.
It was so dark, Molly had to hold the lantern out in front of her to keep herself from running into anything. Her bare feet slid on the hardwood floor a few times as she struggled to increase the gap between her and Scarlett.
Scarlett's growls sounded angrier as she bolted after them. Screaming and running for their lives, the group rounded a dark corner. Molly held up the rear, trying the knob of every door she passed, but not one would open.
“What do we do?” Lily yelled from somewhere at the front of the group. “Why are all the doors locked?”
No one had an answer. “Keep moving,” Molly shouted, looking over her shoulder. She couldn’t see Scarlett, but she heard the thud of her bumping into walls and furniture in the darkness. “Where’s Allison?” Molly called.
“She’s with me,” Lily replied.
"Look," Ms. Halifax said, pointing her flashlight straight ahead. Molly was surprised that the old woman had had no problem keeping up with them. She was even faster than some. Molly followed the beam of the flashlight. At the end of the hallway was a wide-open door. The door led to a long staircase that would take them down to the basement.
Crowns and Curses Page 5
