Story's End (9 page)

The mist solidified into the shape of a woman, who, if not for the glowing light, might have looked like any ordinary character. But Snow’s mouth went dry with horror. She knew with certainty what the man was doing. Elton was right. It went against all the laws of Story. Fidelus wasn’t just ripping open already bound Tales. He was ripping characters out of them.

“I am Morgana,” the Taleless said in a haughty voice. “And
who
, may I ask, are you?”

“Well met, Morgana.” Fidelus laughed, a low, rough sound that grew louder. “We will find you a woman’s body, but first you must tell me why the Warlock of Amaranth was a frequent guest in your castle.” He turned toward a low bench under a window, the shade drifting along beside him.

The Red Enchantress hissed in her breath. “Someone is coming through the forest,” she breathed as she stared off into the distance. “It must be Jaga. I should’ve killed her the last time she brought me fake quills.” She glanced over to where Fidelus and Morgana sat. “You’ll have to continue without me. That stupid hag has unlocked the enchanted door.”

Snow’s mother jerked hard on her elbow. “We’ve seen enough,” she whispered, and then she jolted into action. With the next breath they were through the black doors and back at the sleeping madman’s side. Her mother touched his face and woke him with a word. Pressing one hand on his spine, she propelled him along in front of them. “Hurry!”

Snow picked up her skirts and ran after her mother. Her own fear at what she had just seen was magnified by the wild-eyed looks her mother was casting back over her shoulder.
Who was this Fidelus?
“They’re ripping open Tales?” Snow gasped as her mother paused at the place where two hallways met and quickly led them down the smaller one.

“No time for questions,” her mother said sharply. “I told you to obey. Do you want to get us all killed?”

Whatever anger Snow might have felt was swept away by the fear in her mother’s voice. The only other time Snow had seen her mother look this afraid was when the Red Enchantress was about to torture her.

A great clanging sound jolted through Snow, and she nearly screamed. Her mother, too, was frozen in her tracks.

When Snow could find her voice again, she gasped out, “That’s the sound. I heard it before, when I arrived. We must be close.”

They raced toward the noise, sprinting through one huge room where a skeletal throne towered over them, leering skulls perched in a row atop it. And then they were out. An open courtyard stretched off to a portcullis that led to freedom. The grating sound came from an ancient drawbridge, which they saw was even now being raised, inch by mechanical inch. Two misshapen men stood at the wheel, pushing with all their weight to bring up the heavy gate. They were so engrossed in their task, Snow’s mother was on them before they saw her.

A twist of her mother’s wrist, and the men crumpled to the ground. The bridge clattered down with a thud. Her mother went first, then the madman, and finally Snow, as they all raced out of the castle and into the blackness of the night.

Chapter 9

P
eter leaned against the building wall. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. After Una had danced off with some stranger—how could she
be
so foolish?—an Evil Stepsister had snatched him up, and he had spent the last half hour with Esmerelda, who stomped on his feet and prattled on about what a good partner he was. He had been lucky to get away from her, and now he would be happy to never dance again. Peter was rubbing an aching foot when he heard a familiar voice.

“Nice dancing.” Indy did a bad job of stifling his laughter. “Oh wait, is that your partner coming this way?”

Peter whirled around so fast he felt dizzy. The last thing he wanted was for Esmerelda to trap him again, and then he saw that Indy was making fun of him. “Go ahead and laugh,” Peter said with a scowl. “Where’s Una, anyway? This was her dumb idea to begin with.”

“I haven’t seen her since she left,” Indy said. “Unless she had such an
interested
”—Peter didn’t like how he emphasized that word—“partner like you did, I bet she’s already on her way back to Bramble Cottage. Did you learn anything from your new friend?”

Peter felt his face flush hot. He had been so desperate to get away from Esmerelda, he hadn’t thought to ask her about any castles. Or cemeteries. “Nope,” he said. “What about you?”

“No one I talked to knew about Jaga’s cemetery,” Indy said. “But the Enchanted Forest is apparently filled with castles; fat lot of good that is.”

Peter sighed. The Enchanted Forest ran along the east side of the Hollow and stretched for miles. It had a reputation worse than the Hollow, and no reputable character roamed freely there, certainly not at midnight.

“I wouldn’t mind asking a few more people, though”—Indy nodded toward the lit building in front of them—“if it meant we could get something to eat. I’m starving.”

They pushed their way into the common room, where a young bard was sitting by the fire playing a song. Indy stopped short in front of a crew of unsavory characters. They were crowded around a masked man.

“That’s the guy who danced with Una,” Indy said.

Peter and Indy were trying to decide what to do next, when the man gave them a friendly little wave. The next moment, the rogue himself was next to them, ushering them to a table, scraping up additional chairs, and gesturing to the innkeeper for more food.

Peter took the chair to the left of the man. Indy pulled his sword from the scabbard on his back, sat down on the right, and laid the blade flat across his knees.

The masked man glanced down at the blade, but instead of looking threatened, he merely gave Indy an encouraging smile. “You can call me Kai,” he said as the innkeeper served them. “You’re Una’s friends, aren’t you?”

Peter and Indy exchanged glances. “Is Una still here?” Peter asked at the same time as Indy said, “Where’s the nearest cemetery?”

Kai smiled lazily at them. “You young people and your cemeteries. Una left for home not long ago, and I imagine she’s arriving there as we speak.”

Kai answered all of their questions, but not in a very satisfactory way. Peter had the distinct impression he wasn’t taking them seriously, that he thought cemeteries and castles were a big joke. Yes, Kai knew of many castles around the Hollow, but none very nice to visit. Yes, of course, there were cemeteries in the Hollow, and some of them were lovely to visit. No, Una hadn’t seemed in any trouble when she left, but he rather thought she was a capable girl. She might have said something about a place called Bramble Cottage. And he had asked her to dance because she wanted to dance. He shoveled in a heaping mouthful of stew after he said all this, and Peter found he had run out of questions. It seemed that Una was long gone, probably already tucked up in Trix’s kitchen.

Kai called the bard over, and the other Villains were soon bickering about which song should be performed next. A sorcerer asked Kai something about the tune he had used to fiddle his way past the ogre at Falls Landing. The innkeeper was listening intently, and a group of curious onlookers had gathered around their table. Whatever Peter thought of Kai, the Hollow folk clearly worshipped him.

Indy leaned in close and whispered to Peter, “I think we should tell Kai.”

“Tell Kai what?” Peter asked.

“About the Enemy.” Indy was leaning in so close that Peter could see the firelight reflected in his dark eyes.

“You think he’ll believe it?” Peter asked.

“I think he’ll more than believe it,” Indy said. “I think he’ll help us.

When the bard began his next song, Peter saw his opportunity. “Kai”—he beckoned the man closer—“we have something important to tell you.”

“You are serious for one so young.” Kai steepled his fingers and looked at Peter over them. “Don’t worry about Una.” He tapped his thumbs together. “She seemed ready for an adventure.”

“It’s not about Una or about having adventures.” Indy bent forward across the table. “It’s about finding the right adventure.” Indy shot Peter a look as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Did you know that Story has a great Enemy? And that this Enemy is even now plotting Story’s ruin?”

“Is that so?” Kai gave a low whistle, and leaned back in his chair.

Indy told Kai about the Enemy’s return, then handed him a folded-up broadside from his pocket.

When Kai had finished reading, he looked up.

“We think he’s looking for the Lost Elements.” Peter explained what they had discovered so far.

“And how do you plan to stop him, lads?” He pricked a finger on Indy’s sword point. “Run him through with that?” He wiped the drop of blood off with his thumb. “You boys are serious enough to try it, I’d wager.”

Peter didn’t like the way Kai’s words sounded like he was laughing at them. The Enemy was no laughing matter. “And what about you, Kai? Are you serious enough to do anything?” Peter swept a hand out over the table of overfed Villains. “Will you stay here feasting or will you help us?”

Kai threw back his head and laughed. “I’d like nothing better.” One minute he looked like a cat drowsing by the fire; the next he was up, cloaked, bow and arrows strapped on, and traveling sack slung over one shoulder. He offered a hand to Peter. “But only so long as helping you means an interesting adventure for me.”

Peter didn’t see how he could promise Kai that, but he got to his feet anyway. Indy slid his sword back into its sheath and stood.

“Do you think I could pass for a lad?” Kai interrupted the two women at the next table. “Without this, of course.” He swept the feathered hat off his head and tucked it under his arm. He slid the black mask off, and rubbed at the skin around his eyes.

“You can pass for whatever you want to, Kai,” the witch said, and grinned at the pretty enchantress sitting next to her.

Kai bent low and whispered something to the enchantress, who looked up at Peter and blew him a kiss. Peter felt the heat on his face until Kai’s bony elbow in his ribs drove it from him. Without the disguise, Kai did look remarkably young. His nut-brown skin had a few fine lines, but he was the same height and build as Indy.

“It’s very late,” Peter said as he pushed the front door open and led the way into the night. “Maybe we should go home and sleep first.”

“I believe that you promised me an adventure.” Kai tossed his hat up into the air. “And by
adventure
, I mean something interesting. Stirring things up among those boring old Talekeeper farts for starters.” He caught the hat and swooped it back onto his head. “I hear the Tale Master himself is making a big announcement in the morning. Do you have any more of those papers?”

Peter hesitated and then did the unthinkable. “What do you say?” he asked Indy. “Should we make sure Una got home okay?”

“Una’s not a foolish girl. And she doesn’t always need a hero.” Indy looked between Kai and Peter. “If Elton’s giving a big speech, it’s the perfect place to hand out the broadsides.”

Peter scowled. He knew he shouldn’t have asked for Indy’s advice.

“Aw, don’t worry about your friend,” Kai said, spreading his arms out wide. “The girl will be fine. She’s a smart lass, and she could dance well enough. Besides, she won’t have much of a Tale if we don’t leave her to sort it all out herself, will she?”

Peter didn’t waste much time deliberating. Once Una arrived at Bramble Cottage, she would tell the Resistance members about the Lost Elements, and the grown-ups would take charge. When she discovered he had been out this late, Peter’s mother would have him scrubbing the whole house for sure. No more helping the Resistance. No more looking for Elements. No more adventure. Peter tightened his belt, checked that his sword was strapped properly, and hurried to catch up to Kai and Indy.

Chapter 10

T
he cemetery gate moved on protesting hinges, but Una finally wedged it open enough to squeeze through. Una had always liked cemeteries. She had spent hours drifting between churchyard stones, reading the inscriptions and wondering about the forgotten histories of those buried under them.

But this graveyard was not meant for wandering. The brick wall enclosed a square plot that had been overtaken by a shiny purplish plant covering everything but the tombstones. The black onyx markers seemed to suck in what little light the night offered, and, even though the moon was nearly full, it was very dark behind the cemetery walls. Una reached into her cloak and pulled out Jaga’s key.

She could have found Peter and Indy first, but Kai’s comment had got her thinking. Sure, it was dangerous, but that wasn’t any reason not to go. Besides, if she found out something important, maybe she would also find the courage to tell them all what she had done back in Alethia’s garden. And she needed some time alone before she’d be ready to do that.

Una followed the crumbling brick wall. Where was the door? Jaga’s key hadn’t fit in the iron gate, so unless Kai was wrong, there was another door. Someone had erected a sinister-looking angel over a cobwebby vault. Una gave it a wide berth, and that was when she found it.

The marker looked like a pile of tottering stones, barely anything worth stopping for, but Una felt a quickening inside that she couldn’t ignore. Besides, the key was growing hot in her hands, heat radiating through her palm, as though it knew it was close to where it belonged. She walked around the stone cairn and stopped.

Creeping ivy had covered most of the door, making it nearly unrecognizable from the bricks that surrounded it. Una bent closer, brushing the foliage out of the way with the tip of her dagger. There seemed to be carvings on the door, made out of some yellowed stone, but it was too dark for Una to make them out. The key slid into an ancient-looking hole with a click, and Una gave it a fierce twist. The door opened a crack, and a gust of dry wind whirled around her. Una gritted her teeth as she pushed hard on the door with her shoulder and made her way through. The wind was stronger now, and it plastered Una’s hair to her forehead. She was in a tunnel of some sort, and pale, silvery moonlight filtered through the branches that covered the tunnel’s exit. Once Una passed through them, she found herself on a path that zigzagged up a steep hill. Over the top, a long walk away, she could see the outline of a lone turret.