Page 4 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

“I can’t control the water,” I said, gesturing behind her dress shop to the green channel that snaked past it.

“No,” she said, “but you can control the lily pads, right? They keep splashing me when I walk by. Actually, they splash everyone, and then the gunk gets on our clothes, and it takes so long to wash out . . . and as the town dressmaker, I’d just really love if it would stop ruining all my fabric.”

I stopped abruptly. “Have you tried asking them to stop?”

Her eyes widened. It was almost comical how large and doe-like they were. “You mean talk to the lily pads?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, talk to them.” Instead of treating them like an enemy. My lily pads were actually very playful, and they were likely just trying to get Ceri’s attention.

But of course everyone assumed they were up to something nefarious. It annoyed me to no end how this town thought the worst of my creations.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Ceri tapped her chin. “Um, thank you, Enid.” She turned and walked back toward her dress shop while I continued toward the castle, where I’d been summoned this morning.

A summons. As if they controlled me. As if I was one of their citizens who had to answer to them. It wasn’t my fault my cottage was now shoved between the blacksmith and the cobbler. I looked back at my little home in the distance, covered in black flowers and vines. It had once been so beautiful, surrounded by green water and nature. Now it was tainted by this stupid town.

Vine poked me in the back. “I’m going, I’m going. Since when do you care if we’re late? Goody two-shoes,” I mumbled, and Vine flicked my arm in response.

I marched up the wide stone steps that led to the castle landing and stopped at the sight of the stone gargoyles, one on either side of the front doors.

Vine slithered up to the handle and pulled, but the gargoyle on the left—Barty, I believed—reached its hand out and slammed the door shut.

“How many times do we have to tell you that this is our job?” Barty’s stone wings spread out behind him, and Vine shrank back.

“Then do it,” I gritted out, “and my vine wouldn’t have to.”

“You didn’t even give us a chance!” Tal’s shoulders bunched up to his ears. “We have a process, you know.”

I crossed my arms. “You have to create an entire process to open doors? No wonder you’re not very good at your job.”

Barty jabbed a finger at me, his long stone nails sharp enough to slice me open. “You take that back.”

“No.” I didn’t even want to be here this morning. I wanted to be out in my bog, pretending like none of this existed.

The spiral horns on Tal’s head gleamed under the sunlight. “This is why no one likes you.”

“Oh no.” I feigned sadness, putting my hand to my heart. “I don’t have the approval of your entire town of dimwits. I’m devastated.”

Vine poked me again, and I knew it was trying to tell me to be nice. Ever since this unfortunate city had fallen on the Cragh, Vine had been different. Less monster and more cuddly teddy bear. It loved interacting with the townspeople, even if they didn’t love it back. It only infuriated me more. They didn’t deserve Vine’s love, didn’t understand how special and wonderful Vine was.

“I am being nice,” I whispered over my shoulder. “This is me being nice.” I turned my attention back to the gargoyles. “Now let me into the damn castle.”

Barty’s stone wings lifted and fell as he shrugged. “I don’t feel like it. How about you, Tal?”

Tal was pointedly staring at his long talons. “Nope.”

“That’s too bad, considering I was summoned by your high prince. I don’t imagine you want to disappoint him, do you now?”

Tal bared his pointy teeth. “She’s right.” He reached over and opened the door, and I glided through, Vine following.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I yelled over my shoulder as the doors slammed shut.

“On guard!” A suit of armor marched out in front of me, pointing its shiny silver sword right at my neck.

I’d learned there was no person underneath the suit of armor. It was just a bunch of metal, brought to life by the castle.

This sentient castle and all its sentient objects were really starting to grate on my nerves.

Vine coiled around my shoulders as I faced Sir Arthur. “On guard against what, exactly?”