Blood, Milk & Chocolate - Part 1 (The Grimm Diaries Book 3) (19 page)

The devil's
words made sense now. Selling your soul to Fate was the worst thing that could
happen to anyone in the world. He would take all the joy and hope from one's
life. None of my doings were going to affect me anymore. There would be no hope
for me if I sold my soul to him, but I had no other way to reach the Tower of
Tales.

Words of
approval were about to escape my mouth while tears flooded my face.

36

Fable's
Dreamworld

Jack
stabbed the first huntsman, so the rest had had no choice but to fight.
"Impulsive" wasn't even close to describing his attitude. But he had
to take action. Fable had exposed everyone.

Cerené
stepped forward and kicked all the breadcrumbs away, so Fable would be freed of
the breadcrumbs' enchantment. She shook her hard and rubbed away the
breadcrumbs gathered in Fable's hem. "Listen to me," Cerené yelled. "It's
time to fight. You can do it. I won't let anything happen to you. Later I will
explain what you have been through to the Lost Seven."

The Lost
Seven were about to fight an endless crowd of huntsmen in the Queen's chamber.
A suicide mission for sure. Fable gathered herself slowly as the rest were
already fighting. Cerené protected her, though, until she gained full consciousness.

Fable was
crying. Being a Lost Seven hadn't stopped her from messing things up. She must
be a loser, just like her mother. She watched everyone fight in the chamber,
especially Jack Madly.

"My
name is Jack Madly, by the way," Jack shouted at the Queen as he dueled
another huntsman. "Someone is going to write a book about me," he
said as he turned to face the huntsman. "But never about you. Because you're
dead." Jack stabbed him in the heart.

The Queen
ordered her daughter to be kept away from the rest. She didn't care who lived
or died. Her daughter's heart was the world to her—in a sinister way, of
course.

Ladle
began killing the most skilled huntsmen in the world. Killing was the norm for
Death. After each stab, she looked up and asked the Tree of Life for
forgiveness. Fable thought Ladle could have just worn her red cloak and scared
them all away.

Marmalade
was as strong as Ladle—not as skilled with a sword, but good at
maneuvering and protecting her friends from harm. She seemed extremely skilled
at protecting others, and Fable wondered why.

The Beast
killed sporadically. He had pulled his cloak back, and Fable saw how ugly he
was. He was so deformed that she couldn't stare too long at him, although she
cared for him.

The Beast's
face did half the killing when anyone saw him. The rest he did with bare hands.

Cerené, on
the other hand, wasn't skilled at fighting, but she was like a monkey, jumping
left and right. She ran away and dodged them, not really stabbing anyone. She
didn't fight with a sword, but with her blowpipe. Every now and then, she used
it to spit fire at them. She didn't do it often, since she needed a source of
fire. Also, every breath of fire stole a day from her life—well, her
current
life.

As for
Fable, she was the weakest of them
all,
even after
regaining her full consciousness and being unaffected by the breadcrumbs Cerené
had thrown away.

But Fable's
nerdy looks seemed to help. Many huntsmen hesitated in killing her. She looked
harmless, like a passing fly, too unimportant to waste breath on and kill.
Fable used it to her advantage and stabbed first, surprising her opponents. But
her stabs hardly made a difference. They barely wounded the huntsmen and didn't
kill anyone. It gained her enough time to run, though.

The
confrontation lasted a long time. It was not without wounds. But who cared?
Like Jack said, the Lost Seven had nothing to lose.

Ladle
surprisingly wounded Loki, so badly that he had to get mended by some of his
huntsmen. The wide smile on her face when she killed scared away half of those
watching her. She was a mad girl, indulging in killing without the slightest
bit of remorse. And with a quirky smile on her face. She waved her scythe with
ease, as if waving a spoon.

Marmalade
and Jack fought
back to back
, running after those who
were pulling Shew away.

"I
love you, Jack!" Marmalade said, his back to her.

"I
love me, too!" Jack never seemed to confess his love to her. "How
about someone gets some horses?" he said, as he used the moment to show a
few peasant girls the way out of the castle.

"I
will," Fable volunteered. Her talent was running, after all.

Cerené and
Ladle followed her.

Outside,
the three of them gathered horses, rode a few, and got back into the chamber.
Ladle turned out to have been badly hurt.

"You
don't have to get back in," Fable said. "Cerené and I can get inside.
The Beast is already pulling Shew's coffin out."

"I'm
going in," Ladle said stubbornly.

"You're
bleeding," Cerené warned her.

"So
what?" Ladle's quirky and lovable childishness shone upon her face.
"I am Death. I'm not supposed to die." She stopped to ponder that.
"I think." She scratched her temples.

"She's
got a point." Fable smiled at Cerené, and they kicked back in. Fable
discovered she was a great horse rider. At least she was good at that.

Jack and
Marmalade were still fighting back to back. The Beast put the coffin on his
horse.

More blood
splashed everywhere. It was hard to tell who was wounding whom. The huntsmen
seemed weaker in Loki's absence.

Out of the
castle they rode, with Shew in her glass coffin, strapped upon two horses led
by the Beast on a third.

But that
seemed to be only the beginning of the madness. Fable knew she shouldn't have
left, as she had to get Loki's Fleece. But she couldn't. The Lost Seven were
her family, the one she'd never had. She had no way to reason it, as she had
only met them recently. But it was a feeling, carved in the back of her, that
they were one for all and all for one.
A feeling two
centuries old.

The six of
them rode into the forest, wishing to hide beneath its curvy trees. It wasn't
night yet, but the dense juniper trees blocked most of the sunlight.

"Where
to?" Fable panted on her horse.

"The
cottage, of course," Marmalade answered.

"But
Loki knows the cottage," Fable complained, counting on Shew's story from
the last Dreamory.

"Loki
is injured," Marmalade argued.

"Thanks
to me!" Ladle flashed her scythe in the air.

Fable
still didn't like the idea. She wasn't convinced Loki was wounded badly enough
to not follow them.

"What
about the other huntsmen?" she asked.

"They
seem to be weaker when Loki isn't there," Cerené said. "Maybe they
draw their powers from him. I know they will follow us, but we can fight
them."

Shew began
to moan on the back of the Beast's horses. She was waking up. They continued
riding along to nowhere.

Farther
into the forest, they began hearing the huntsmen's horses behind them. Heavy
thuds were pounding the ground.

They
looked at each other in panic. Fable listened to Cerené say that the forest had
always been darker than the castle. The forest always played games with them in
favor of the Queen.

They sped
toward the cottage, as planned. Then they heard the scariest sound of them all.
It wasn't the voice Fable was used to hearing, or even the darkest sound she
could imagine. It roared among the trees, forcing animals to skew away, and
dimmed the faint light passing through the trees into a veil of darkness.

"Princess
of Sorrow!" Loki roared from afar. His voice was tinged with pain and
anger. "I am coming for you and all your friends!"

37

The Queen's
Diary

Although I
had given in for a fraction of a moment, no words came out of my mouth. Captain
Hook didn't mind. He would have waited for me to sell him my soul for seven
days and seven nights. My soul was that good.

But then I
stared at him, my mind more alert now, as if I had been under Fate's spell,
succumbing to its pressure, but then realizing I was my own fate. Why was I
doing this?
For what?
Who said I couldn't find the
Tower of Tales alone? It was unlikely, but I wasn't going to give up without a
fight.

Hook's
face began to dim, and his bad skin began to smell of rotten fish and ale. He
could it read it in my eyes that I had changed my mind.

His wrath,
as he could control almost anything in the sea, was beyond what I had imagined.
It began to rain heavily, fish as much as water, as if some gates in the sky
had opened all of a sudden. The ship swayed and shook violently. His eyes were
still grey as the sea began to rage around us. The sea became so scary that his
whales and mermaids vanished in the blink of an eye. Hook was a child with the
power of Fate, after all. Not even a whale, however big, wanted to be in the
face of a childish Fate right now.

Sailors
began to die on their own, fainting to an invisible wind, circling the ship and
choking on whatever swirled around, like flies in a spider's web.

Hook
trotted near me, his big hands trying to reach for my neck. He'd decided if he
wasn't going to have my soul, then he'd kill me.

Something
unexplainable told me to stand tough, cemented to my spot. I could have run,
tried my slim luck with swimming. But an inner feeling told me to stay. I'd die
at the hands of Fate but wouldn't give in to his
joy
at witnessing my
misery.

Hook
approached. His hands were almost touching my neck when Angel finally appeared.

It was
Angel's rage, with all his fangs and reddened eyes, against Fate. The winning
hand was still Fate's. But Angel and I together were stronger than each of us
alone. There was no time to blame him, talk to him, or even kiss him. I gripped
my sack as he gripped my hand and pulled me away from Fate.

We fell to
floor of the now-sinking ship and slid far away from Fate's hands.

"Angel!"
I touched his face, our hands and legs tangled, half soaked in the water.

Angel
stared at me for a short moment—though it felt rather long on my end—and
I thought he wanted me to tell him I believed in him, which I was about to do
when he shushed me.

"I
believe in you, Carmilla," Angel said. "Now it's my turn."

I nodded
as he pulled me impulsively into the sea. I couldn't believe we were jumping
off the
Pequod
, but it looked like it was sinking anyway—and if
you know Captain Ahab's story by now, and are asking about his leg being eaten
by a whale, this happened a few years before that.

Fate's
anger peaked. There was lightning in the sky, all over the sea. No passing ship
would have survived that day.

But I didn't
care. I was in Angel's arms, and I trusted him. He was the love of my life,
purgatory, and after, like he said. And even though Fate waved his hands in the
air, sending tide after tide after us, I didn't care…

Wait.

Something
was wrong…

I couldn't
breathe. I just couldn't. This had been an impulsive move. My body trembled. I
lost my grip on my sack. I felt like… dying. Worse. I felt like dying a
thousand times. With all the water around me, my lips went dry. My heart
stopped beating. I mean it. It stopped. My skin seemed to thin and dissolve. It
felt as if I was turning into ash or sand, splintered into millions of pieces
until my soul disappeared.

Even while
held by Angel, the joy of life, I was in perpetual sorrow. Hadn't he known I
feared water more than I feared death?

38

Fable's
Dreamworld

Loki's
voice filled the forest, like a ghost's breath terrorizing every step you make.
Fable believed a few trees had backed away from them, afraid the Huntsman would
hurt them. All kinds of animals hobbled away.

None of
the Lost Seven said a word for a long time. Loki's voice brought on a feeling
of urgency to ride away from him, as far as possible. It was as if
unshadowing
from the Missing Mile had turned him into a more evil entity than the Queen
herself. Or was the forest handing him such power? Fable thought about where
she had been before the dream—in this forest, right? What evil had she
endured in here so much that she feared something as small as breadcrumbs?

How could
anyone fear breadcrumbs?

***

A few
minutes later, Fable still rode alongside the others, the Beast still taking
care of Shew's coffin.

"The
cottage idea isn't going to work," Jack said, riding along. He still made
sure his hat was in place. "I haven't heard Loki so angry before. I am not
sure we can confront the huntsmen this way. They definitely are empowered by
his presence."

"Thanks
to Ladle." Marmalade pursed her lips. "She didn't have to hurt him.
He is angrier now."

"And
how were we supposed to escape the castle?" Fable said. Ladle did nothing
but feed her horse another fortune cookie.

"Stop
it." Jack seemed irritated. "Let's get up to my tree." He wasn't
asking. He changed direction and rode away.

The rest
followed.

Fable
thought the tree made sense. In fact, they should have thought of it earlier.
Loki couldn't reach them there. Still, Loki's threatening voice didn't seem to
be far away no matter where they rode.

At the
same spot Jack had brought Fable up before, he planted his beans after getting
off his horse. Immediately, the tree began to
rise
,
Jack hanging on to its vine. "We have to leave the horses," he said. "I
don't know of a way to get them up."

"Then
we have to make sure they are scattered all around," Marmalade said. "So
Loki doesn't know our location. We can't risk that. I will do it."

Sometimes,
Marmalade's role as leader worked just fine, Fable thought.

The Beast
held Shew's coffin on his own, slung like Jack's sack behind his back. Shew's
neck twisted inside.

But as
Fable began climbing, Jack screamed from above, "Get down!" He came
flying, holding to a vine with one hand, his hat with the other. He looked like
Tarzan. "We can't get up now. The giant!"

Even the
Beast looked worried, and climbed back down and put Shew on the horse again.

"The
giant?" Fable said.

"Jack's
giant?" Marmalade squinted at her. She had begun noticing Fable's
repetitive questioning.

"Of
course." Fable shrugged. She assumed Jack and the Beanstalk had a rival
giant in the tales, so it made sense. She wondered why he wasn't present
before, though. "Where to, then?"

"Back
to the cottage plan," Marmalade said. "We're really wasting time."

"I
know of a place better than the cottage," Cerené said. Fable turned and
looked at her, and was astonished at Cerené's eye contact with her. Again, it
seemed like Fable should have known about the place Cerené was about to
mention. Fable shook her head, as most of the others had returned on their
horses, listening to Cerené.

"Where
to?" Jack said.

"Trust
me," Cerené said. "It's the best hideout.
Much
better than the cottage.
Loki knows the cottage well."

"Then
maybe you can fight him with your Art again," Marmalade suggested. "Like
you told us you did the last time."

"Yeah,"
Ladle chirped. "Blow some dragon, Cerené!"

Fable had
to admit, Death didn't fear anything. She almost thought all of this was fun.

"I
can't." Cerené glanced behind Fable toward Loki's voice. "There is no
time to explain. Besides, my creations from the blowpipe don't last long."

"Then
where to?" the Beast said calmly. He didn't seem to worry about Loki. He
worried about Shew, though. Fable began to think that saving Shew wasn't just
about doing the right thing and saving the Princess. The Lost Seven seemed to
have a greater reason.

"To a
cave!" Cerené said, and rode away.

The Beast
followed—a bit intimidated by the giant above, Fable noticed. He had Shew
with him, so everyone else had to follow.

"We
can't get the horses into a cave too," Marmalade noted. "I'll scatter
them running in every direction, misleading the huntsmen. It will buy us
time."

"Hiding
in a cave is suicide," Jack mumbled. "There is only one way in and
out. Once we're in, if they find us, we'll be easily squashed to death."

Loki's
voice seemed to fade a bit. Maybe he was finally riding toward the cottage,
which was good. Cerené said the cave was in another direction.

Panting,
they finally reached the cave.

It was an
ordinary cave inside a very large juniper tree. It was an old tree, perhaps
thousands of years old, looking dead and hard as stone. It was also at the
bottom of a hill, so it was a good hideout. The opening of the tree only
allowed one person through at a time. Fable didn't like that. She wondered why
Cerené thought she also knew about this cave. Had Fable been here before?

Just when
they got off their horses, they heard footsteps approaching.

"Who's
that?" Fable said.

"You
think the huntsmen decided to hunt us on foot?" Jack flashed his sword.

The
footsteps didn't stop.

And then
there stood someone under the thin and faint sunrays passing through the density
of the trees.

Jack
lowered his sword and smiled. Everyone else did, too. Fable looked and could
only see light. Someone walked toward them.
Someone who was
shining, light coming out in every direction.
She couldn't really see
who it was.

"Welcome
back," Jack said. "Star."

***

"You
weren't going to do this without me, were you?" the Star said. It was hard
to tell whether it was a boy or a girl. The Star's voice was like some alien
code. Fable wondered if he/she had always been this way.

"You're
back!" most of them hailed. Fable hailed along. She wasn't supposed to let
them know she was from another world.

Ladle ran
into the arms of the Star, the aura of light thickening. Marmalade followed,
and they both glowed with the Star now.

The
welcome didn't last long. They had no time. So they began entering the cave one
by one. It was easiest for Fable to get in. She was the smallest. It began to
make sense that she had been there before.
With Cerené?
Alone?

The
hardest to squeeze in was the Beast. Jack had to carry Snow White inside the
cave—although he had never been exactly fond of her. He still believed
Shew was like her mother and would end up biting them, like vampires did.

Marmalade
patted the horses away in every wrong direction to elude the huntsmen when they
arrived.

She went
in last.

***

The cave
was dark. They depended on the Star's faint source of light to see. It seemed
unable to shine brightly like outside, but still its identity was obscure.

"Where
am I?" Shew moaned, waking up.

"You're
safe with us." Cerené held her tightly. Being best friends, Cerené's
presence comforted the disoriented Shew.

"Can't
we sedate her again, so she won't bite us?" Jack scoffed. Ladle nudged him
into silence.

A long
time after, it was clear the huntsmen had lost them. Only every now and then
did they hear Loki's faint shouts, cursing Shew.

"What
if they find us now?" Jack said. "They could just spit fire into the
cave and burn us." He had expressed his concerns since the beginning.

"I
may be able to fight back with my Moutza," said Cerené. "But not for
long."

It didn't
sound like a good idea. Huntsmen were famous for burning houses with convicted
citizens of Sorrow inside. Astonishingly, Cerené turned to Fable. Fable didn't
understand. How was she supposed to help?

"Fable
might know how to help," Cerené said, piercing her with that eye contact
again.

"How
so?" Jack said.

It showed
that everyone else had always considered Fable the smallest and weakest, which
she was in many ways. She was afraid of the Queen's goddamn breadcrumbs, for
God's sake. The idea made Fable reach for the breadcrumbs from the Waking
World. She certainly wasn't afraid of those. What was going on?

"Can
I talk to Fable outside for a moment?" Cerené asked the others. "It's
important."

"If
it will help our situation," Marmalade said, playing leader again.

"It
will," Cerené said. "I promise."

***

"What
is it, Cerené?" Fable fidgeted. She remembered Alice Grimm's caution about
exposing herself, and worried Cerené would ask her something she had no answer
for.

"I
know you've been through a lot, and that I shouldn't be asking you this,"
Cerené said. "But it's the best thing you can do for the Lost Seven. It
hurts, but you can save us all."

Fable
shrugged. It was a good idea not to talk unless Cerené expected an answer. She
let her continue.

"Your
Black Art can help us." Cerené held both
Fable's
hands in hers.

"My
Black Art?"

"I
know you can seal the cave with dark magic," Cerené said. "You told
me you have done this before."

"I
told you?"

"When
you…" Cerené stopped, as if not wanting to hurt Fable's feelings. "Look,
there is no need to talk about it. Just do it. Seal the cave. I know it hurts,
but look at it this way: no one will think of you as the weakest and the
youngest anymore. I know you aren't. I know you're stronger. Much stronger than
what anyone else thinks."

"Seal
the cave?" Fable looked at the opening. She wished she had learned how to
do that from the books she'd read in the Waking World. Was Cerené implying
Fable had become a witch in the last three months? What kind of witch, and what
power did she have?

"You
told me you spread your arms and concentrated," Cerené said. "I even
remember the spell, but I know it wouldn't work with me. I am not a witch."

"The
spell." Fable nodded. "Really?" She pretended she was curious. "You're
a good listener, Cerené." She faked a smile. "But I don't believe you
remember it. It's a hard spell."

Fable
really hoped this would work.

"Not
that hard." Cerené poked her playfully. "
Elle tortula. Belle fortulla.
Sealle cavura. Webbe spidura."

Fable was
glad she had memorized so many spells in the Waking World, or she would have
needed Cerené to repeat it. "Of course I'll do it." She waved her
hands, as if it were easy. "Let's go back and seal the cave from inside.
That's what you meant, right?" Fable supposed this spell would keep the
huntsmen from getting inside and hurting them for a while, but what about when
the seven wanted to go out again? She asked Cerené, who confirmed that Fable
had told her she'd use the same spell to do that.

Inside,
everyone anticipated Fable. She smiled at everyone. A weak smile.
A smile of a liar who might be messing with their lives.
She
really hoped Cerené was right. "We're going to be all right," Fable
said, pretending. "I'm going to help you."

Fable
turned to the cave and spread her arms toward it. She took a deep breath and
closed her eyes, and began to recite: "
Elle tortula. Belle fortulla.
Sealle cavura. Webbe spidura.
"