Blood, Milk & Chocolate - Part 1 (The Grimm Diaries Book 3) (14 page)

28

That night
I woke up to a sound I hadn't heard before in my life. It was like someone was
singing, some kind of a lullaby, hissed and lightly chanted across the rippling
surface of the water. I tried to ignore it at first, but the humming didn't
stop. Strangely, it reminded me of myself in the cradle—faint and looming
memories of kings and queens visiting me in Styria and asking for my blessing.
How I ever recalled such a memory, I had no idea. And why did those melodies
coming from the sea do this to me?

I rolled
in my bed, still trying to ignore the lull outside. The other workers around me
seemed asleep. I wondered how they didn't hear it. Was my sleep so light it
only affected me, or were they afraid to admit they heard the melodies?

Stomping
through the darkness of the ship, I headed outside to the deck. The night was
unusually calm and the tides lay solemnly on the bed of the sea, reflecting the
full moonbeams like glittering pearls. I bowed over the edge, mesmerized by the
view. All alone, I wondered why no one was awake but me.

But I
couldn't see what caused the melodies.

It
occurred to me that no matter how much I tried to memorize the tune, I just
couldn't, as if it were mercury slipping through the sensors in my ears. How
was that possible? Was this the same melody they said the Piper played, the
same tune Captain Ahab played? Was it the same tune I heard Night Von Sorrow
play?
Mozart's
The Magic Flute
?

Then I
suddenly realized I couldn't remember Night Von Sorrow's tune until this very
day. How was that possible, to listen to something and never
remember
it no matter what? I scratched my memory for it, but couldn't. It felt like
words were on the tip of my tongue but still blocked from my mind.

My
rumbling thoughts ended at the sight of something splashing in the water. I
thought it was a dolphin at first—I hadn't seen a dolphin before. But
then another splashed somewhere nearby. And another.

Then they
showed me themselves, ever so slowly, rising from the water, whipping their
hair at their cheeks, and then smiling at me.

Mermaids.

I hadn't
seen one before, but I could see their fishtails waving underneath the water,
lit by the moon in the sky. I was grateful the mermaids weren't close, so I
didn't risk seeing my reflection in the water trying to look at them.

And
oh, sweetness of heaven, how beautiful they were.

Their wavy
hair was slung down over their breasts and their eyes were mostly green,
visible even from far way. They weren't skinny or chubby. I thought they had
the perfect female body. Their bare shoulders were broad, though, the way a
frequent swimmer's body usually looked.
Their fishtails
looked greenish with spots of gold underneath the water, but it could have been
the effect of the moon's beam.

"Come
with us, Carmilla," one of them whispered, as they neared the edge of the
ship. "Come with us. You belong to us."

"What?"
I shook my head. I didn't expect them to talk. They had sweet female voices.
You could tell they could sing extremely well.

"You
don't belong here," another said, fiddling with her hair. "You belong
with us…" She stopped then looked underneath her. "You belong down
there."

"How
do you know my name?" I asked.

"You're
much more than you think you are." Another smiled, sincerely, seductively.
"You are the one…"

Another
one shushed her, clapping a finger on her lips. She seemed to be their leader:
a little bigger, broader shoulders, thicker hair, and tattooed skin. She also
looked a bit older than the rest, and her finger bore a pearl ring. "Let
me show you." She neared, stretching out her hand.

At first,
I was going to jump in the water with her. Her words and smile were enticing. I
had never been tempted to follow anyone like her.

But then
my fear of water stopped me. In my shock, I leaned away from the ship's rail,
noticing a frail red fleece connecting all of then under the water. "I can't,"
I said. "I'm afraid of water. I'm not supposed to see my reflection in
water."

"That's
what they keep telling you." The mermaid showed a sad face. "They are
using you for their own benefit."

"What
do you mean?" I asked, clawing to the rail. I wanted so much to be with
them. It was ridiculous. "Who is using me?"

"All
of them," she said. "Even Angel."

"You're
lying!" I said.

"Then
why do you think he never told you how you're not supposed to be together?"

"How
do you know that?" I began to suspect they weren't benign mermaids. I
looked to my left and right to make sure no one was listening. "We're
descendants of two feuding families. That's why they don't want us to be
together."

 
"That's all?" the leader said.
She wasn't asking, but piquing my curiosity, enticing me to jump in.

"Do
you know any other reason?" I found myself asking. I had always suspected
things—why it really took Angel two years to come back to me, for
instance.

"Come
with us, beautiful," the mermaids chanted with open arms. "And we
will tell you all you need to know."

I said
nothing, but backed away. My curiosity wasn't strong enough to trust them.

"Don't
you see how magnificent you are, Carmilla?" the leader continued. "You
have stopped the plague of apples, which no one before was capable of.
She
is very proud of you."

"Who
is proud of me?" I bowed forward again; the fumes coming from the sea were
enchanting and cursing at the same time. Was I hallucinating these mermaids? I
had heard about sailors going insane at sea.

"She
who cursed your land in the first place," the mermaid said. "She wants
to meet you." Her giggle didn't exude innocence this time, but some form
of morbidity that I had never encountered before. The kind of smile that hurts,
not mends.

I pushed
the rail and stepped back immediately, stumbling backward on the ship's deck,
and hoping this would be my last stand. Why had I been so hesitant? I didn't
want to know about the nameless witch. And by no means did I want to meet her.
Those mermaids were evil. The silver-toothed man was right.

Picking
myself up from the floor, I ran to Angel's sleeping place, a small room at the
bottom of the ship, surrounded by all the barrels of wine he lifted all day.

"Angel."
I pounded his wooden door. It was fragile enough I could pound my way in, but I
waited for Angel to answer me.

"Go
away, Carmilla!" he said, shocking me. Never had he asked me to leave his
proximity. He'd always felt stripped and naked without me near.

"Angel,"
I pleaded. "What are you saying? I need your help. I saw those mermaids,
and they scared me."

"Go
away!" He sounded like when I saw him in the dungeon, hurt and angry, and
not quite himself.

"What's
going on, Angel?" I pounded harder, the door almost giving way. "Are
you hurt? Should I be calling someone?"

"For
the love of all good things, please just go, Carmilla," he growled.

Then I
heard the mermaids hum that unmemorable tune again. Angel ached harder.
Of course.
It was the same tune his father had used on him.
I could tell that, but couldn't remember it.
So unusual.

But I
couldn't help myself. Angel was everything to me. I pounded through and broke
the door open. Angel had his head buried between his knees, sweating and
shivering.

"Angel."
I meant to approach, but before I did, he raised his head, and I saw his
reddened eyes and the thick veins sticking out his neck.

"Make
them stop, Carmilla," he panted. "Please." He clapped his ears
with his hands. His fingernails had strangely grown longer, as if he were
changing into a beast.

"I
don't know how to do that," I said, agonizing as much as he did.

"Then
lock me in and go away," he growled. "I could hurt you, Carmilla. I
could hurt you so bad, and I don't want to."

I was
speechless, feeling foolish and naive. But my attraction for him cemented me
nearby.

"As
long as they play that tune, the urge to turn into a full vampire intensifies,"
he said. "My father must have sent them."

I wanted
to tell him that they looked like
they had been sent by the
nameless witch, not his father, that they wanted me, not him
. But then,
how did they know about this tune?

Angel
sprang to his feet. Faster than anything I had encountered, he grabbed me by my
neck and snarled at me, my back to the ship's rail outside. How did he move so
fast?

"I
want to have your blood right now," he said, not sounding like Angel
anymore. "You have no idea how this feels."

For a
moment, I thought this was it. This was the end of our short-lived love story,
where a beauty—supposedly me at the time, before the world got to me—was
going to get bitten by the beast, Angel Von Sorrow. This was the moment when I
was about to realize that my mother was right in not approving of our love.
This was the moment when I realized that trying to break the rules by staring
at my reflection in the Pond of Pearls was what brought me here. This…was the
end of me.

Maybe the
mermaids were right; there was a reason why
me and Angel
shouldn't have been together.

I closed
my eyes, my vein pulsing and ready to be sliced open by the one I loved dearly.
Was I going to turn into a vampire like him? Were we both going to be gifted—and
cursed—with immortality? I had no idea. All I did was wait for his teeth
to sink into my soul.

29

Fable's
Dreamworld

"You're
not going to stare at my hands all day, right?" Cerené said, taking Fable
in her arms.

Fable let
Cerené hug her while she stood cemented in Jack's hiding place above the
clouds. The beauty of where he lived had been sucked away with the shocking
revelation. Fable, the pigtailed, naive wannabe witch, was one of the Lost
Seven—her mind hadn't the strength to argue with Cerené and ask how she
was still alive. Her own revelation was her priority.

What made
it worse was that in the context of the dream, she couldn't ask anyone how this
was possible. If she exposed herself and told them she came from another world,
the dream would collapse and she wouldn't be able to help Shew and Loki—and
that was if the Lost Seven didn't laugh at her.

Cerené's
arms were warm. It looked like she and Fable had been good friends. Fable
wondered if this meant she was
friends
with Shew as
well in the past. But how was all of this possible? The only thing that made
sense was that her vision of Loki trying to kill her in Shew's last Dreamory
was real. It was true. Somewhere in the past, Fable lived with her brother Axel
in a small town in Sorrow called Furry Tell. And one day, Loki, the Huntsman,
came looking for young lads with "splinters in their eyes" for the
Queen of Sorrow, and was about to kill Fable.

Tears
rolled out of Fable's eyes as Cerené hugged her. She was devastated, both happy
and sad, confused and feeling so lonely in Cerené's arms. After all, they were
two people coming from two different centuries, and only Fable knew that.

"Don't
cry, Fable," Cerené whispered in her ear. Fable wondered why she
whispered. "We don't want them to know what happened to you. I didn't tell
anyone." Fable's confusion tripled. What was Cerené talking about? "Better
not tell them your powers now," Cerené said. "They wouldn't
understand."

Fable
assumed this had to do with when she woke up in the middle of the forest
minutes ago. She had been scared and sweating and wanting to run away from
something. Why did she wake up in the middle of the dream? And if she had to
accept being one of the Lost Seven, what was it that had happened to her?

"Welcome
back." A quirky girl in a red cape approached Fable as Cerené pulled away.
"Fable and Ladle always make a good team." The girl winked at her as
she put her scythe to the side. Was that Little Red Riding Hood? Fable smiled
meekly at the girl, wondering if her name was really Ladle. Who named their
daughter Ladle, and why did she walk around with a scythe?

"Here,
I cooked you a fish." A partially naked girl with hair dangling onto her
breasts approached Fable. "I don't know where you have been, but you
surely look hungry." The girl patted her and handed her a pan with a
cooked fish. She had a neat smile, and neater body. Fable supposed she was a
mermaid. But she didn't remember seeing a mermaid mentioned as one of the Lost
Seven in J.G.'s diary.

Suddenly,
Fable realized who the girl with the scythe was. She was the Reaper. Fable had
seen it in the drawings of tarot cards in the diary with Axel. But who was the
mermaid—and more importantly, who was Fable?

Fable put
the pan aside and walked through Jack's magnificent hideout above the clouds.
The bed of the trees up there was strong enough that she didn't worry about
falling through. It was as if the earth had been lifted up here. Jack's home
seemed to have no end. In fact, it was like a little forest with a few cottages
around. There must have been an edge she shouldn't be crossing, but she couldn't
see it.

Titling
her head up, she saw how ridiculously close the moon looked from here. All
those glittering stars and fluttering birds made it look like she was in
heaven. Jack seemed to love pumpkins, because they were everywhere, along with
the endless trophies he'd stolen.

But Fable
wasn't looking for that. She was looking for the last two of the Lost Seven.
She realized Ladle, a.k.a. Red Riding Hood, was the Reaper. Jack was the Thief.
Cerené was Cinderella, the Phoenix. The mermaid girl, whom Jack called
Marmalade, was…maybe the Moon, as mentioned in the diary?
Because
the girl didn't look like the Beast or a Star to Fable.

Wait!
Fable
thought.

She had
figured by now she was the Witch. Actually, she had known this a few minutes
ago, but couldn't let the idea sink in. A grand, satisfied smile curved on her
lips. So she wasn't a loser witch like her mom anymore? She was really a witch.
She wondered what her power was, the one Cerené had told her not to tell the
other Lost Seven about.

Fable
turned around and asked, "Where are the others?"

"Are
you asking about me?" a voice called from the dark.

Fable
tried to act normal and not to wince. She knew where the voice was coming from—somewhere
under the shades of many leaves where no light shone through. She squinted to
look harder, but her poor sight wasn't helping.

"Don't
try to persuade the Beast out of the dark." Cerené patted Fable. "He
won't come out."

"It's
nice to see you, too, Cerené," the voice from the dark said.

"You're
welcome, Beast." Cerené laughed.

"When
are you going to realize that you're not ugly?" Ladle told him. "Come
out, eat something, Beauty."

Fable
thought it was a nice touch from Ladle to call him "Beauty," although
she didn't know why he was called a beast.

"Marmalade
gave me a fish," the Beast said. His voice was calm, raw, as if he were
older—wiser, maybe?

"So
where is the Star?" Fable tried to sound casual.

"The
Star isn't coming," Cerené told her, knotting her face, as if Fable
shouldn't have asked.

Fable
shrugged and went to eat a fish. She noticed how she was almost everyone's
favorite. Everyone patted her and took extra care of her. It dawned on her that
she was the youngest, too. Maybe that was the reason.

Fable
continued eating, wondering how she should bring up the subject of Loki's
Fleece. She didn't have to wait long, though. Cerené brought up the subject on
her own. After all, this was supposed to be some kind of meeting.

"So,
here is my plan," Cerené said, tapping her blowpipe on her hand. "The
only way to save Shew is to go to the Schloss and free her ourselves. We're not
going to wait until the Queen of Sorrow consumes her heart."

Everyone
seemed to listen with great interest, but Fable needed to put the pieces
together. The timeline of this dream's events confused her. She assumed that
this happened after Loki had cut off Cerené's hands, and that Cerené had been
resurrected somehow. It had to be, because Shew never mentioned Cerené knowing
the Lost Seven. Or…

"That's
one hell of a daring rescue," Marmalade said, not really encouraged by the
suggestion.

"Anyone
have another way to save her?" Cerené said. "We all know what it
means if the Queen consumes her heart."

Fable didn't
know, but assumed there was more to the Queen preserving her beauty than what
she previously knew.

"Last
time Loki cut off your hands, Cerené," Marmalade argued. "I have no
idea how you were resurrected, but I'm glad you are. Do you want to risk Loki
killing any of us again?"

"It's
the right thing to do!" Ladle waved her scythe happily. Everyone ducked to
avoid accidentally dying before their time by the hands of a reckless reaper. "We
have to save Shew." Ladle didn't seem to notice she was about kill
someone. "And Cerené, we don't need to know how you came back, nor do we
need to know where Fable has been all this time. All that matters is we're all
together."

"Of
course Ladle would encourage you." Marmalade pursed her lips. Fable sensed
that Marmalade was acting like a leader in this meeting. "She is Death.
She isn't afraid to die."

"Don't
listen to my girl, Ladle." Jack bumped Ladle playfully as he leaned
against a tree with that same white feather between his teeth. Of course, he
had his hat on. Fable was surprised he and Marmalade were together. "But
it would be neat if you woke up and discovered it was your turn to die today,"
he teased her.

"Stop
joking, Jack," Marmalade puffed.

Jack
rolled his eyes then winked at Fable, as if telling her Marmalade was nuts.

"Last
time, all of you sent me to the Schloss to befriend Shew and help her escape on
her sixteenth birthday," Cerené told everyone. Fable grimaced at the
revelation. "I did my best, and was about to save her. I understand that
you couldn't reveal yourselves then. But look at what happened."

"We
were lucky Shew's heart wasn't really twenty-one grams that day," Ladle
commented.

"Thanks
to Loki stabbing Shew so many times, she lost so much blood and her heart
weighed less, or the Queen would have consumed it any time later."

"Wait."
Fable had to interrupt. "I don't understand." She partially didn't
care if she'd acted out of the context of the dream. She
had
to know
what had happened on the night of the last Dreamory.

"Didn't
we tell you about this before?" Marmalade sighed. Fable began to not like
her.

"She
is the youngest," Jack told Marmalade calmly. "Sometimes I think it's
unfair to drag her into this, so be gentle." Fable liked how Jack didn't
lose his temper, although he seemed to be blaming Marmalade. "Fable"—he
turned to her—"here is what happened. On Shew's sixteenth birthday
her heart did weigh twenty-one grams at the Queen's measuring table in the
castle. Luckily it turned out that her heart could lose its weight within seven
days. When Loki fought Shew in the forest, he wounded her. She also bled more
crossing the Wall of Thorns, which led to her heart's weight decreasing. It
wasn't twenty-one grams anymore, so consuming it would be pointless. The Queen
managed to hunt Shew down and imprison her in the Rapunzel Tower, waiting for
her heart to weigh twenty-one grams again."

"Oh."
Fable tried not to look shocked at the details. A few things made sense now.
The events of this dream were days or months after Shew's Dreamory. Cerené had
been mysteriously resurrected, like she was supposed to be, as she was the
Phoenix, although no one knew the details. And Shew's heart wasn't twenty-one
grams again. "And Loki? Shew killed him, right?" Fable had to check,
and wished it wasn't true, or there would be no Loki and Shew moment.

"She
did." Marmalade sounded calmer, realizing she had been harsh on Fable. "But
Loki is a Dreamhunter. A half-angel. He doesn't really die. He gets what they
like to call 'unshadowed.'"

"Unshadowed?"
Fable squinted.

"Angels
are buried in the water of the Missing Mile in the Seven Seas," Marmalade
explained. "They can stay there forever and be considered dead, unless
someone bails them out or convinces the creators to bring them back. The Queen
of Sorrow manipulated someone and brought him back. Don't ask me how. They say
he returned even worse than before."

"All
this happened while I was away?" Fable asked, trying to complete the
puzzle in her head.

Cerené
nodded, and gazed at Fable again, as if reminding her not to spill the secrets
of where she had been. Why did only Cerené know about Fable's past? It seemed
not to matter now. "See? We have to go get Shew from the Schloss
ourselves, even if it means confronting Loki and the Queen of Sorrow
herself."

"Entering
the Schloss is almost impossible," Marmalade said. "It's not only
guarded by Loki's cruelest huntsmen, it's guarding itself in many ways. The
Schloss has a soul."

"To
get in, we have to sneak past its soul." Ladle seemed not to have a
problem with the Schloss.

"I
approached it once," Marmalade said. "Just from afar, and felt a dark
presence that scared me away immediately. This is more than mere magic. The
Schloss seemed timeless, like an immortal who has lived a thousand lives."
She looked paler now. "Some say the Schloss is alive, that it has lived a
million lives before, in a million different places across the universe."

"True,"
Cerené said. "It's such a scary castle, disguised as a beautiful mansion
for the King and Queen. But I was in the Schloss many times. I know every part
of it. I can enter through the chimneys and I know a few mazes inside. It's
like a whole world of secret tunnels. Besides, we've got Jack. No one has
stolen as much from the castle as he has. He gets in and out like a
ghost."

"Guilty
as charged." Jack raised a hand. "Did you see the Queen's comb I
stole? It tickles when you brush your hair." He chewed on his feather.
Jack struck Fable as being nonchalant about Shew. Somehow he seemed not to like
her much. Fable made a mental note to investigate that later.

Marmalade
eyed him, hands on her waist. Their relationship didn't seem to flow, Fable
thought.

"I'm
in," the Beast finally said. "But this will not go smoothly. There
will blood, and there will be killing. You better be prepared."

"We
have you, don't we?" Cerené smiled in his direction. It confirmed Fable's
suspicions that the Beast was big and strong. "And we've got Death."
She turned to Ladle.