Blood, Milk & Chocolate - Part 1 (The Grimm Diaries Book 3) (22 page)

Part 3

True Love & Lies

42

Fable's
Dreamworld

Jack
jumped back, pulled Ladle's scythe, and used the tip of it to cut his finger
immediately. "Well," he sighed, "I never thought I'd do it, but
let's see if the Chosen One's heart is good enough against burning fire. I'm
not going to die this young."

Jack's
influence was instantaneous. Everyone pricked their fingers and meshed their
blood with Shew's. The grass and trees were already crackling outside. The
shimmer of fire was slanting through the spider web.

Fable
asked them to hold hands and close eyes. She was holding Jack's hand to the
left and Marmalade's to her right.

The
incantation was hard to spell; it seemed to be in a language no one had ever
spoken. Fable just recited what her mind told her to, as if
she
had been possessed by her older self
. She was reciting it from a memory
she didn't quite remember, if that made any sense.

Like every
other type of magic, it came with a price—one Fable could feel
immediately.

An
unexplained darkness began ruling over her. She could feel her soul changing
again. And she wondered if she'd ever go back to the Waking World the same
pigtailed, clumsy girl she was before.

It was a
horrible thing to do, but it was the only way out.
This, or
the Lost Seven would be soon killed by the huntsmen
.

She really
hoped this was a memory relived, and that she wasn't messing with anything from
the past. She convinced herself that two centuries ago she had used evil to
defeat evil. No wonder most of the Lost Seven lived horribly ever after. She
was curious about what happened to each of them after that day.

Fable
recited the spell and asked them to repeat after her. Her insides ached again.
Every pore in her had let that cruel darkness seep through her fragile soul.

The sky
split somewhere nearby, and a loud lightning bolt hit the ground. It wasn't the
fire's doing or natural causes. It was the dark spell, summoned from an
abandoned corner in the pits of hell. The earth beneath them trembled, like a
light earthquake rushing all over the Kingdom of Sorrow. Fable could hear one
of the huntsmen outside say, "It's the whale! Someone has upset the whale!"

So Sorrow's
whale had always been here? Did the spell upset him? What am I doing? God help
me.

Fable
wondered if the spell shook everything in Sorrow, even the Queen's throne.

Shew's
body shook violently. Her back arched forward, as if she were being lifted from
the floor by an invisible force. Blood seeped out of her nose, and then another
lightning bolt struck.

Fable hung
tough. She didn't stop reciting for a second. She wasn't going to give up now,
although the pain was strong. If they were going to pay for doing this later,
at least it had to be done efficiently.

And it
worked.

Fable
could feel an eminent heaviness in her heart.
A distinct
weight.
Something unmeasurable with human scales.
She was sweating. So were the rest of them. Even the Beast shivered in the
transformation.

"Where
are you, Princess of Sorrow?" Loki was going mad outside. Although he had
ordered the burning, the shaking of the earth must have driven him crazy.

It
certainly maddened him when the third lightning bolt came down with rain,
putting out his fire.

"What
kind of witch are you, Princess?" Loki screamed, and Fable thought she
heard a woman's voice next to him. Was it possible that the Queen of Sorrow had
arrived outside?

Would she
risk it?

Fable's
body was shattering into pieces from the inside. Lifting her head for a moment,
she saw Cerené bleeding from her eyes. Each one had different levels of
tolerance. It amused Fable how strong Jack was. Ladle was the strongest of all,
but that wasn't a surprise.

The
lightning stopped.

Their
hands parted as they fell to their sides and bent their bodies over the floor.

Loki was
still shouting, madly looking for Shew, angered by the falling rain that seemed
to put all fire out. Fable could faintly hear that the woman next to him wasn't
the Queen. She couldn't tell who she was, but she could hear parts of what she
was saying.

"This
isn't natural," the woman shouted. "This is Black Art. The kind no
witch should practice. Whoever did that has cursed each and every one who
participated."

Inside the
cave, they had barely begun catching their breath.

"Is
it done?" Cerené asked.

Fable
nodded.

"I
feel it." Ladle patted her chest. "I feel her heart in me."

"If
it had only rained before we started this," Jack murmured.

The
weakest was Cerené, but she had an exquisite smile on her pale face. "I
feel Shew's presence in me, too. I feel like I'm bonding with her. I love you,
Princess," she said to the comatose girl. "Do you feel it, Jack?"

"I
feel I could use a big meal of beans." Jack stood up.

"So
what now?" Marmalade asked.

Fable saw
the spider web was gone. Not just that. Several new cave openings in different
directions were visible in the rain.

"We
should take Shew somewhere safe," Fable said. "We need to figure out
if she should be cared for in a special way after the spell." Fable didn't
know, but she imagined this would have a dire impact on Shew. "For now,
the Queen needs to kill the seven of us to consume her heart. We've made
it."

Most of
them smiled at her. They had done something extraordinary and puzzling, a great
obstacle to the Queen getting her hands on the power she wanted. They were
proud of themselves, and proud of Fable. Marmalade wasn't the leader anymore.
It was Fable everyone was looking up to now. And it scared her so much.

The Lost
Seven began pulling Shew outside, astonished by the few huntsmen waiting for
them. Most of them had feared the lightning and escaped. The ones who had
stayed struggled with their horses on the muddy ground.

The Beast
took care of a few. Ladle took care of the rest, as no sword matched the power
of her scythe. Her quirky smiles scared a few huntsmen, indeed.

Jack stole
a few horses.

Cerené
promised to deliver Shew wherever they decided to meet. Jack offered to check
his treehouse. If the giant
was
gone, it would be the
best place to hide and take care of Shew. Fable never understood how the giant
came and went.

Fable took
her own horse, as she still needed to look for Loki and get the Fleece. Was she
powerful enough to do that? Was she wicked enough to confront him with some
kind of Black Art now?

The Beast
tied Shew to Cerené's horse—he would have preferred to take Shew himself,
but Cerené was too emotional about it.

The
preparation took a while. The huntsmen weren't giving in easily, although Ladle
did a good job of stalling Loki.

The plan
had to change.

Jack told
them to ride away toward the Swamp of Sorrow, misleading the huntsmen into
following them while Cerené and Fable took care of Shew and rode to the
treehouse.

"Here."
Jack tucked a few magic beans into Fable's hand and squeezed. "Plant it
like I did when we escaped the goblins, and climb up the tree. Hopefully the
giant isn't up there. I will follow up with the others once we get rid of the
huntsmen."

Fable
nodded, as she tucked the beans in her pockets.

"Don't
get addicted to those beans!" Jack winked, turned around, and slapped a
huntsman on his back, enticing him to follow him.

Fable
couldn't tell Jack that she wouldn't know her way back to the treehouse. She
relied on Cerené knowing the way. Cerené was the one with Shew's body on her
horse, anyway. Fable followed the Phoenix toward the treehouse.

***

Fable rode
as fast as she could, torn between Shew's safety and Loki's Fleece. She prayed
she'd come across Loki, and that she would have a powerful kind of magic with
which to confront him.

It wasn't
long before she heard him cursing on his three-eyed unicorn behind them.

"Witches!"
he roared behind her and Cerené.

It seemed
that Loki hadn't fallen into Jack's trick, and had his eyes set on wherever the
Princess of Sorrow went. Fable was both scared and grateful. Scared of the
Huntsman, but grateful she'd have a chance to get the Fleece from him.

"Faster!"
Cerené shivered, afraid of the boy who had once cut off her hands.
"Faster!"

They rode
and rode, panted and sweated, cursed and screamed. Fable's plan was to reach
the treehouse, plant the beans, and help Cerené and Shew climb up. Then she'd
turn and face Loki. She was sure he knew the forest well. He wouldn't give up
easily.

But Cerené
didn't seem to really know the way. Loki was closing in. The plan had to change
once more.

"You
go ahead," Fable told Cerené, as she slowed her horse. "Take those."
She handed her the beans. "Take your time to find the treehouse. I will
stall Loki."

"What?"
Cerené panted. "Why?"

"Just
do it." Fable was firm. "I will confront him." The words didn't
make sense, but she had to. Even with all the magic she had supposedly learned,
how was she going to confront the head of huntsmen?

"Are
you sure?" Cerené said.

"Yes."
Don't make me change my mind. I have to get that Fleece.
"Now go!"

Reluctantly,
Cerené rode ahead. She might have done it for Shew, to save her first. But she
looked suddenly scared of
Fable,
of the way she
shouted at her and told her to go.

Fable took
a deep breath and tried her best not to think too much. This had to be done.
She came here for the Fleece. She turned her horse around, looking to collide
with Loki head to head. In a million years, she would have never thought of
herself being that strong.

43

The Queen's
Diary

The face
that looked back at me was an ugly face with fangs and green eyes. It was so
scary that Angel pulled back.

How was I
supposed to not be scared?

This wasn't
my face. It was the mermaid's face.

"Hello,
Carmilla," said the mermaid. The leader I had met at the
Pequod
. She didn't look as beautiful
this time. She looked like a monster of the sea, deformed with demonic eyes and
ill skin.

I raised
my head and saw tens of mermaids behind her, surrounding us inside the whale. I
fell back, appalled by the mermaids' numbers and ugliness.

But none
of that concerned me the most, at least not now. I turned back to look at
Angel. The horror on his face…it was like he had looked Death in the eyes. It
puzzled me how a strong man like him had this kind of weakness. But then again,
who
was I fooling? The mermaids themselves didn't
scare him. It was what they could do. The songs they could sing.

They began
singing that unmemorable song again. Humming it happily as their faces turned
back into the beautiful girls of the sea. They braided their hair and swam in
unison as they hummed the song, as if they were entertaining a king and queen
in some castle in the water. Their giddy looks added to the horror. How do you
fight someone who looks so beautiful?

The
greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he was someone
else.

I crawled
back to Angel and buried his head in my chest, clapped my hands on his ears. He
was like a child, a pale one, shivering in my bosom. I was like his mother now,
trying to lie to him and tell him that the world wasn't full of monsters.

"You'll
be all right." I patted him. "I promise."

"No,
he won't." The leader mermaid snickered, shielding her mouth with
manicured hands. "He is going thirsty, Carmilla."

"What
do you mean?"

"I
wouldn't hold him so close if I were you." She continued snickering. "Because
sooner or later, he will want your blood, darling."

They were
right. I knew it, but still held to my shivering lover. I pulled him nearer,
hoping my love would heal him. Didn't Amalie Hassenpflug say something like that?

A tear
crawled out of my eyes, ever so painful.

Who was I
fooling? Didn't I see Angel in the ship before, when he was almost ready to
hurt me? Back
then,
I was almost going to let him. But
with the secret he wouldn't tell me, I didn't feel the same. I wanted my
safety. I wasn't sure if I'd give him my blood. I wasn't a vampire, like Night
Von Sorrow claimed.

Looking at
the water, filled with tons of mermaids singing, I realized I had no place to
go.

"Give
in, Carmilla," the leader mermaid said, reaching out her hands again. "She
wants to see you. You belong to us."

Everyone
seemed to think I was one of
them
. Only I wasn't sure
whom I belonged to.

"Go
away!" I shouted. "Leave us be. Who are you?"

"My
name is Lark." She bowed her head, as if I were her queen. "Sirenia
Lark at your service, Majesty."