Free Spelled by Betsy Schow

factor by dreaming of hot tea and getting dry in Hydra’s nice, warm cottage.
    Turns out “cottage” was a bit of a euphemism. Shack probably would have been a wee bit closer to the truth. There was a small stovepipe coming out of the roof. Most roofs are similar in shape to a witch’s hat—this one looked a bit more like a bowl because the point was sagging down in the middle. There were windows on either side of the building with shutters hanging mostly off—attached by a single piece of gum. The door looked like it had been carved directly out of the tree, and it was open.
    A frumpy headless body in a housecoat ambled out, whacking into the door on its way.
    â€œHoly hex!” Rexi splashed back into the water. “I’m just gonna stay way over here, if that’s all right with you.” She looked at the body and shuddered. “And if it’s not, I’m still gonna stay over here.”
    â€œCoward!” I shouted, secretly desperate to do the exact same thing.
    â€œBetter than being zombie takeout.”
    Kato used one of his wings and herded the body in our direction.
    â€œThere you are. Poor dear. Did those mean doggies hurt you?” Hydra consoled her hunchbacked body as it wandered blindly toward us.
    The body hefted the Hydra head onto its shoulders. Nothing magically knit the two back together, and I couldn’t see a zipper or anything. There was only a slurpy sucking noise, and if you asked me, the head still looked wobbly at best.
    â€œThat’s just wrong,” Rexi called from the water.
    Yeah, I didn’t need the observation, thank you—I had the full, creepy view up close. I threw Rexi a weary look. “If you’re not going to help, you’re not allowed to comment.”
    Though part of me hoped she’d come up just so she could keep making snappy quips, Rexi held up her hands and mimed sealing her lips.
    Hydra finished checking over her newly found extremities and wandered farther up the path.
    I followed at a safe distance, in case the head lost its balance or something. Polite conversation tamped down my urge to run away, screaming. “I heard you say something about dogs. Did they do…um”—how to say this delicately?—“did they knock your head off?”
    â€œHeavens no. What a silly idea.” Hydra rooted around in a weed-infested garden. She pulled some bloodroot from the ground and ambled back in my general direction, using a broken garden hoe like a walking stick. “It was a witch who played croquet with my head. The dogs just rolled me down to the beach.”
    â€œDid you happen to see what direction they went?” I hoped the answer was, Way the spell away from here .
    â€œWell, obviously I didn’t see anything.” Hydra pointed to her sightless eyes. “But if you’ll come with me I can ask the others.”
    â€œOthers?”
    She gestured me over. “Up at the house. Be a dear and guide me.” Her nails were long overdue for a manicure. They were yellow and gnarled, and they bit into my arm as I led her up the wilted garden path.
    Kato gave the area a thorough search. Probably hungry again . When he approached the garden, he looked back at me like he was asking for permission—guess he’d learned his lesson with the Bumpkins. I shook my head, since I recognized a few of the plants from Verte’s garden—the cursed and poisonous section.
    He gave a last mopey look at the plants and trotted to keep pace with me. I ruffled the fur between Kato’s horns to reward his obedience. For a moment, he seemed to enjoy it; then he smacked my hand away with his tail. I suppose he’d decided he was too noble for head scratches—good thing I hadn’t tried to rub his tummy. My stinging hand served as an excellent reminder that underneath the soft, comforting fur still lurked the Kato that liked to knock me down a peg.
    Taking off at a gallop, he