Free Wishes by Molly Cochran Page B

either. I’m sorry, but she knows you now, and she wants you. Unless you run and keep on running, it’s over.”
    I put my arm around her. This time she let me, without so much as a dirty look. “I’m not running anywhere,” I said.
    “Then she’ll hurt you.”
    I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll hurt her first.”
    “Right. And for your next trick, you’ll speak from beyond the grave.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    She smiled. “So are you planning to attack the Queen of the Fairies?”
    “Not me, Artemesia. Us .”
    “Oh, please.”
    “Why not? I think the two of us could fight her if we had to. I’m a telekinetic. You’re a shape-shifter—”
    She pushed me away. “No, I’m not!” she shouted. “Not anymore. She took what magic I had away from me.”
    “But you turned into the fairy-tale fairy. On Snyder Avenue. Bibbity bobbity boo, remember?”
    She looked abashed. “That’s the one thing I can turn into,” she said. “She allows me that one trick.”
    “Why?”
    “Never mind.”
    “Well, that’s crazy. If you can shift into Fairy Barbie, you can shift into something else. Anything you want.”
    “You don’t get it. I’m nothing but a slave, and she knows it.”
    “Don’t say that,” I said. “I touched you. I’ve felt what you feel. You’re nobody’s slave. Not in your heart.”
    She swallowed. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Still, even if we went through with this suicide mission, what could you—we—do?”
    She had me there. “I don’t exactly know,” I said honestly. “I don’t know what kind of magic the queen has.”
    “She has whatever you have. That is, she’ll take your power and use it against you. That’s what she did with me.” She looked up at me through lowered brows. “I wasn’t exactly a pushover, you know. I tried to fight her.”
    “But you didn’t have me with you.”
    For the first time, I saw the trace of a smile in her eyes. “You’re pretty confident, aren’t you?”
    “I come from a long line of smart witches,” I said. “I’ll bet you do, too.”
    “The smartest,” she agreed.
    “So together we’ll think of something.” I stood up and held out my hand to her. “Are you with me, Artemesia?”
    She grasped it and bounded to her feet. “Call me Artie,” she said.

    “I’ll show you where she lives,” Artie said as we walked through the Meadow. “But I don’t think we should go in there unprepared.”
    “Okay, but how are we supposed to prepare?”
    She thought. “The best thing would be if we knew her name,” she said. “Knowing a fairy’s name makes her vulnerable. That’s why the queen doesn’t tell anyone what hers is.”
    “So how do we find out?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
    “Oh, man.” Part of me was beginning to wonder if maybe our half-baked plan needed more thought. But then, Artemesia had been the queen’s captive for three hundred years, and this was probably the first time she’d ever felt any hope of getting away. If I bailed now, I might never convince her to stand up to the queen again.
    “Maybe we don’t need the name,” I offered. “We’ll find some other way.”
    In the near distance, Mr. Haversall and Dingo the dog were ambling toward us. The old man waved.
    “Who’s that?” Artie asked.
    “Mr. Haversall’s the docent who leads people through the fog on holidays,” I said. “But he’s here all the time, anyway, walking his dog.”
    “Is he a wizard?”
    I nodded. “A rainmaker.”
    She raised her eyebrows. “He doesn’t look very magical.”
    I laughed. “That’s what’s great about the Whitfield families,” I said. “Nobody looks magical, but almost everyone is.” I waved back. “Hi, Mr. Haversall,” I said. “And Dingo.”
    “Woof.”
    “Dingo says greetings,” his owner translated, tipping his cap to Artie.
    I introduced them. “Katy says you’re a rainmaker,” Artie said.
    “Ayuh. But Dingo here’s the real magician. Isn’t that right,