Blood, Milk & Chocolate - Part 1 (The Grimm Diaries Book 3) (2 page)

Part 1

Breadcrumbs & Mirrors

1

Candy
House

No one in
Candy House had any idea of the horrible event awaiting
them
.

Only
Fable, feeling distressed since she'd occupied Loki's body to save him in the
Dreamworld, couldn't escape the feeling that something dreadful was on its way.
What it was, she couldn't tell. But she was sure her wannabe witch's sixth
sense smelled something wrong in the air.

But maybe
she was wrong. Maybe this was nothing but the aftermath of one of her
wrongfully spelled charms, like when she had scared Loki away when he first
came to visit Axel in Candy House. But then again, maybe she was
right
,
or why did everything around her feel so wrong?

Fable
began her day, struggling to wake herself up from a dream of Loki killing
children in the name of the Queen of Sorrow. A nightmare where she felt she'd
been buried deep under the linen of her bedsheets, so deep she couldn't
breathe.

In the
nightmare, Loki was looking for children with splinters in their eyes. Loki
wasn't the loving person she knew anymore. He was a vicious and heartless
huntsman ready to chop off heads.

Fable
wondered why the word "heartless" resonated strongly in her chest
when she thought about Loki, as if it were telling her something. Still, she
couldn't find what that something was.

Eventually,
Fable snapped out of the nightmare and straightened herself in her bed.

The
morning sun kissed her skin and assured her she was awake and back in her bed
in Candy House. She clapped her small hands on her chest and let out a long
breath.
Poor
Shew,
was the first thing Fable thought.
Shew had to kill Loki after he'd chopped off Cerené's hands. She
had
to
kill the one she loved so she could wake up from an endless dream and stop her
evil mother from finding the Lost Seven in the Waking World. Fable wondered how
it felt to kill your one True Love.

Still in
her bed, Fable noticed the house was
be
silent. She
couldn't hear
Axel's
or Shew's voices outside her
room. Why hadn't anyone come to check on her? She must have been screaming in
her nightmare. Usually Axel would hurry to help his younger sister, since he
had always been overprotective of her.

But no one
came.

Maybe they
hadn't woken up yet, Fable imagined.

She let
the sun heal her soul for a while before she pulled off the cover to go brush
her teeth. To her surprise, she found Pickwick hiding underneath it.

"Pickwick?"
Fable reached for her glasses on the drawer to make sure it was Charmwill's
parrot. Her shortsightedness wasn't helping the first few hours after waking
up.

It
actually was Pickwick, curled up in a fetal position and looking worried in her
bed.

"My
name is Pickwick and I am mute," the parrot moaned.

Fable
didn't know whether to laugh or worry. After all, this was the only phrase
Charmwill allowed Pickwick to utter. It was a mind-boggling phrase.

"Are
you looking for Loki?" She held the parrot up and hugged it. Pickwick
seemed to enjoy Fable's embrace immensely, and hugged her back with his short
wings. "Don't worry, Pickwick. Everything is going to be all right, I
promise." She patted him, thinking about how Charmwill had told Loki to
take care of Pickwick in case he died. Now, with Loki dead, Pickwick had been
orphaned twice. Fable wondered what this mysterious parrot really meant to
Charmwill. No doubt Pickwick knew tons of secrets he couldn't utter. Without his
help, she wouldn't have guessed Charmwill Glimmer's True Name to be Wilhelm
Carl Grimm in the first place.

"Tell
you what," Fable suggested, "I will feed Itsy and Bitsy in a while.
How about I make you a big breakfast?"

Pickwick
shook his head. He didn't seem interested in food, unlike the rest of the
Crumblewoods and their animals. He pointed out at the fields beyond the window,
but Fable couldn't understand what he meant.

Suddenly,
Fable's bed started to shake. Pickwick hugged her harder, squinting his eyes.
He was like a baby in need of all the love in the world.

"Shh,"
Fable whispered, waiting for the shaking bed to stop. She was used to it.
Everyone in Sorrow was used to it. She could hear a trail of a distant and
hollow sound, as if some giant wailed over the mountains. The bed shook for a
few more moments before it stabilized and calmed like a ship against the tides
of the ocean.

"See?"
She smiled at Pickwick. "It's all gone. That's Sorrow's whale,

"
she
explained to him. "The
whale
which
Sorrow resides upon. He likes to shake the whole town every now
and then. We're glad as long as he never rolls over and drowns us in the
ocean."

Pickwick
pouted.

"I
know it's silly." Fable put him aside, stood up, and stretched her arms.
"We live in a town on the back of a whale." She rolled her eyes.
"And that's the least of our worries, believe me." She pulled her
towel and walked to the bathroom. Pickwick clung to her shoulders on the way
in. "I'm not sure about that." Fable stopped. "I'm a girl, you
know. I need privacy in the bathroom." Pickwick didn't move, and Fable had
a sweet spot for animals. "Okay." She rolled her eyes again.
"I'm only going to brush my teeth. Don't expect anything else."

Inside,
Fable washed her face and teeth while Pickwick sat on the sink's side. He still
seemed worried, but she had no idea how to help. She had her own worries, that
strange feeling again. What was it?

Fable
stood looking at the mirror for a while. She didn't want to think about any of
the things she
had
to think about, like how to resurrect Charmwill,
where Cerené was, or what would become of Shew. Hell, she couldn't exactly
understand what all of this was about. She was sure Axel would have tons of
suggestions and theories when she met him.

For now,
she waved her toothbrush as if it were a sword at the mirror, posed like Loki
used to do, and said, "My name is Loki Blackstar, and I'm here to kick
your ass!"

Pickwick's
eyes widened. So did Fable's. Why had she done that? It came out spontaneously.
Was it because she missed Loki already? Was she trying to forget the fact that
she might never see him again?

"That
was weird," she told Pickwick, who nodded with utter agreement. "You
think I'm weird?" She squinted. Pickwick nodded again. This time, he
clapped his wings together. "So you like weird?" she said. Pickwick
flapped his wings. "I always thought weird was cool." Fable looked
back at the mirror, unable to explain that
weird
feeling she had. She
felt so…so… She couldn't put her finger on it.

Fable left
the bathroom and opened her wardrobe to put something on. She thought a new
outfit was a good idea. She was sure today was going to be full of adventures.
Then she found herself pulling on her tightest jeans instead of her casual
dress. "Phew," she said. "I guess I feel feisty today," she
told Pickwick, who shook his shoulders and curved his lips.

Fable put
the jeans on then went for a plain white t-shirt, followed by a badass belt
with silver buttons, which originally belonged to Axel. Dressed up, she looked
at the wardrobe's mirror and was impressed. "I think this look suits
me," she told Pickwick, who definitely wasn't sure about the look. Fable
was too tiny to dress up like that. "I feel ya," she told the parrot.
"I'm too small for this look, but guess what?" She dipped into her
never-ending wardrobe, which was mainly a place to stack up books, not clothes,
and pulled out a pair of heavy boots. "How about those?" She put them
on, and felt a bit taller. "These are also Axel's boots," she said.
"Now, all I need is a weapon." She strolled back to her drawer and
pulled out a magic wand. Pickwick shook his head. "You're right," she
said. "A wand doesn't fit. I need a gun." Pickwick nodded, pointing
his wings like a cowboy shooting bullets. "But I don't have a gun. Maybe I
could borrow Loki's Alicorn when we get down to the kitchen."

Fable
scanned her look one more time in the mirror, and then pulled her glasses off
and let them dangle from the chain on her chest. "No badass ever wears
glasses," she commented. "Although I'm afraid I'd shoot the wrong
guys this way." She snickered. "How about the pigtails?" she
asked Pickwick. He seemed to like them. "Yeah, me too. If I let my hair
loose will I be still girly. Pigtails make me look girly, but like a
maniac." She posed like a gunslinger one last time and said, "My name
is Gretel, and I will kick your ass!"

Pickwick
almost choked. His eyes met Fable's. Hers darted up and to the left, and she
looked at a light bulb of her own thoughts, hanging like a cloud in the air.
"Did I say Gretel?" she asked Pickwick.

The parrot
nodded, looking more worried and confused.

"Why
would I say Gretel?" She had her hands on her waist.

Pickwick
didn't say anything, but he seemed to know more than she did.

"Oh,
silly me." Fable waved her hand. "It's just all those fairy tale
stories that surround me." She turned back in the mirror and said,
"My name is Fable Crumblewood, and I'm going to kick your ass," then
shot imaginary bullets from the imaginary gun in her hands. "Crumblewood
doesn't sound right," she remarked. Pickwick agreed. "You can't be
scared of a girl named Crumblewood." She folded her hands.
"Look," she told Pickwick. "I don't need to tell anyone that I
will kick their
asses
." Pickwick cocked his head.
"If I'm really badass, why would I tell someone I'd kick their ass when I
can just go and kick their ass?"

Pickwick
took a moment, as if trying to solve a puzzle. A curvy smiled shaped his face,
and then he agreed.

Fable
pulled the parrot up. "Just because I feel so feisty and manly today, that
doesn't mean I will not make you breakfast," she said. "You need to
eat to grow stronger." She opened the door and walked out, still wondering
about that unusual feisty feeling, as if she wasn't quite herself today. As she
stepped down the stairs, a strange tinge of pain hit her eyes momentarily. She
wondered what it was; maybe it was because she took off her glasses. Her eyes
itched again as she reached the open kitchen downstairs.

2

Down in
the kitchen, Fable was surprised Axel wasn't there nibbling on some food. In
fact, the kitchen had been cleaned and dusted like it had never been before.
Everything was organized in place, shiny and inviting, as if they had been visited
by fairies. Even the alphabet magnets, which had previously shown Charmwill
Glimmer's True Name, now read:

I cleaned
the house, took out the garbage, and cooked meat and vegetables for lunch. Feel
free to eat as much as you need.

Shew

Fable took
a moment to grasp the fact that Shew had cooked and cleaned Candy House after
all she had been through—let alone the fact that she knew how to cook and
clean in the first place.

"You
think she cooked and cleaned because it's in her blood?" Fable said to
Pickwick. "I mean
,
she is
the
Snow White.
You think this has to do with the part in the tale when she finds the dwarves'
cottage in the forest and starts to clean up?"

Pickwick
folded his wings with skepticism.

"You're
right, we don't really know all the facts yet." Fable checked the food in
the refrigerator.
Not bad
, she thought. "But we know a few
things." She rummaged around, looking for bread. She didn't know why, but
she felt she wasn't hungry enough to eat Shew's food. She craved bread today.
"For one, there are no dwarves in the real tale. They turned out to be
young peasants called the Lost Seven, or the Pilgrimms." Pickwick counted
from one to seven on his wings. "And two, the night at the cottage in the forest
was so different than the tale. Shew ran from Loki after Carmilla weighed her
heart and made sure it was twenty-one grams. Then Loki was about to kill Shew
when Cerené helped her escape to the cottage. Loki followed them, played Big
Bad Wolf for a while, and managed to enter, but they escaped. Finally, Loki
chopped off Cerené's hands and she ended up killing him to survive."

Pickwick,
after some silence, scratched his head.

"I
know it's a complicated story, and it brings up questions more than it gives
answers." Fable couldn't find any bread, so she closed the refrigerator.
Pickwick's eyes looked like he was asking about the questions the story raised.
"For instance, did all of this really happen to Shew in the Dreamory? Was
it an accurate memory, or blurred by Shew's action in the Dreamworld? If Shew
turned out to have changed the past in the Dreamory, how does it affect the
future?"

Pickwick
looked like he knew the answer to that. He hopped on the kitchen table near
Loki's Alicorn and kicked it twice.

"I
see," Fable said. "You mean if Shew changed the story and killed Loki
in the past, then it does make sense that he is dead now. It also means he is
going to be dead for good."

Pickwick
lowered his head and shoulders and approached Fable slowly, as if he were a
lazy penguin, then gestured for another hug. She embraced him as usual, still
craving bread.

"Then
there are a number of questions in case Shew didn't change anything in the
Dreamworld." Fable walked with Pickwick on her shoulder. She assumed he'd
like to eat bread too—if she managed to find some. Didn't birds always
nibble on breadcrumbs? "Like, where in the timeline of Shew's story will
she meet the Lost Seven? I thought she'd meet them the night of her sixteenth
birthday, when the Queen sought her heart, but that didn't happen. And when
exactly did she split her heart among them, and how did she do it?"

Pickwick
shook his shoulders. He seemed sincere about not knowing the answer.

"And
if she did kill Loki, when the heck did they fall in love?" Fable stopped
when a thought hit her. Her boots were heavy anyway. She preferred not to walk
around much. "This question boggles my mind, Pickwick. I mean, between
Loki as an evil huntsman and Loki as Shew's True Love, there seems to be a huge
gap that needs to be answered," Fable
said
as she
felt drawn to Loki's Alicorn on the table.

She
stepped closer to it and held it in one hand, thinking about the weapon she
needed to complete her badass posture. Although she had been fascinated with
Loki's Alicorn—the horn of a unicorn—the feeling was different this
time. She was really drawn to it, as if by some magical force, as if she had a
special connection with the horn in her hands. She lifted it up and said,
"What were the words Loki used to say to make the Alicorn turn into a
whipping snake?"

Pickwick
seemed frustrated he was mute this time. He definitely knew them.

"Doesn't
matter," Fable said. "It's only him who can use it, anyway." She
put it back and shook her head. "Where is everyone?" She realized
they must be awake by now.

Fable
walked to the front door and opened it to see if Shew and Axel were maybe
sitting on the front porch. Instead of finding them, something else caught her
off guard. A chill swept over her body as if
she had been hit
by an invisible force
. The pain in her eyes returned as she found
herself looking at her feet. Something at the porch's floor summoned her in the
strangest way.

Fable
looked and saw a trail of breadcrumbs leading out to the field.