The Forgotten Fairytales (22 page)

Read The Forgotten Fairytales Online

Authors: Angela Parkhurst

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Sci-Fi & Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: The Forgotten Fairytales
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“They are the law. If they want you dead, you die. Trials are just a nice way to make it look fair. Who knows what goes on inside those walls, but one thing is certain, they know us all by name and face. And not to freak you out, but with you being an unknown, I’m sure they’re asking questions.”

I swallowed hard, Koyte’s words replaying in my mind. They’d be after me next. God, what the hell did that even mean?

Sleep didn’t come easy that night, or the following. Nightmares haunted me every time I closed my eyes. First, I had dreams the council was after me and I was running through the woods. When they finally caught me, the man in the black took off his mask, revealing himself to be Wolf. Together we ran away, battling everyone who got in our way.

Koyte haunted me too. His words were like an eerie carousel I couldn’t escape from.

You’re next.

To top off my sleepless nights, I dreamt of April and Danielle. Sometimes they were best friends and other times April was cutting herself again. Not like the cutting she did normally, as sucky as that was to say. This time she cut to kill. And when she did, she blamed me for being such a selfish sister.

Now, as I sat in the chilly courtyard, I wondered if my dreams were dreams at all or if they were visions of the future.

April and Danielle pranced by me, plastic replicas of each other. April’s auburn hair was straightened and adorned with a thick, sparkly bubblegum pink headband. They both wore lace dresses, Danielle’s blue, April’s pink. April looked more like a runway model than a self-destructive once suicidal fifteen-year-old.

They sat at their usual table and the same blonde boy squatted beside my sister. They’d sat together every day this week. April gazed at him as he spoke, her eyes wide and glossy as if he were a god come to life.

“Who’s the boy with April?”

Kate and Desiree glanced over their shoulders. Kate sneered and instantly turned her eyes to her food. Desiree didn’t seem as intense, but irritated, because she gripped her spoon so tight, I thought she was trying to break it.

“Gale Corner.” Desiree said.

“He’s a fuckin’ loser.” Wolf appeared at my side. I smiled, despite myself, at Wolf’s attendance. I bit on my bottom lip, the smile gone in an instant when I thought back to Koyte.

“A loser who’s been in love with Danielle forever,” Kate muttered.

“Don’t read too much into it. The kid is harmless,” Desiree said.

“He’d better be.”

Kate’s silence on the matter bothered me. She knew more. Kate gathered her books up and said a pathetic
good-bye
before hurrying inside.

On my tray was a shiny red apple. I rarely ate during lunch, but my stomach twisted so badly, I knew I had to eat something. Desiree snatched it from my hand and tossed it backward.

“Never eat red apples!” Desiree cried. “Haven’t you learned anything?”

“Sorry.” Freak out much?

Beside me Wolf’s tray was packed with one of everything. I almost gagged at the smell of the fish tacos. Why anyone thought putting fish in a burrito was a good idea, I’d never understand.

The table grew a little too quiet as I stared into the textbook for my
Creating A Minion Following
class. Another class I was failing. Big surprise there.

When I peeked up from my book, I noticed the look in Desiree’s—now gray and blue—eyes. Her eyebrows wiggled up and down as if she spoke telepathically to Wolf. Her thin, red lips pursed into a straight line.

Wolf’s hand clenched and unclenched around the water bottle on the table. Before I questioned, Desiree pounced up like a jack-in-a-box. “Gotta run. See you two sluts later!”

Desiree winked at me before sauntering off to a different table, where she plopped down and instantly joined in whatever conversation they had.

“So.” I thumbed the pages of the book, not willing myself to look at him and his honeycomb eyes. “How have you been?”

“Fine.” He chugged the contents of his water down.

Silence. Utter and complete silence. Something that only happened when our mouths were locked together.

“Aw, look at you two. Is the schools most dysfunctional couple back at it again?” Claire strolled through the courtyard in a pale green dress and matching pumps, her hair in a signature bun. “At least you found where you belong, but FYI, freak is last season, kind of like Norah’s face.”

Beside me, Wolf let out a loud laugh, his mouth full of food. “Wanna try again, sweet cheeks? Or did you forget last year’s night o’fun?” Claire’s cheeks burned red. Ohmigosh, he really did get with all the fairy girls. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Walk away, pixie bitch, before my dick breaks you.” A few particles dusted the plate as he muttered ‘bitch’ and inhaled a taco.

Wolf’s “bang list” was probably higher than most of the guys at the school. If it wasn’t for some strange stroke of chivalric luck, I would’ve been another notch on his long belt. I flinched at the thought. Despite the hallway fairy incident, I still wanted to be near him. To console him or whatever. Damn, it would have been much easier if I hated him.

“Thanks,” I said once Claire cleared the courtyard. “I really hate her.”

“Yeah, well, pixies are either bitches or saints. They’re too tiny to hold more than one emotion.” One of his many plates was almost empty, but he still had a lot of food to kill.

“I know, but I feel like you’re always rescuing me. I wish I could return the favor.”

“Don’t,” was the last thing he said before he stood up. “I’ll see you around.”

 

T
he smile faded from my lips as Dad stepped out of the carriage and onto the cobblestone grounds outside the castle. The auburn strands which usually curled over my father’s forehead were slicked to the side with gel. There was a moment of hesitation when our eyes met, his lies tangled with a mixture of emotions. The excitement I thought I’d feel upon seeing him was replaced with frustration.

The wool coat he wore hugged his long frame, which was thinner than the last time I saw him. A crimson and gold plaid scarf hung from his neck, he tightened it and gave me a grim smile.

“I’m sorry.” His shoulders were tense, his words full of worry and fear. What did he have to fear though, that I’d hate him? Lies aside, hatred for my father was next to impossible. Anger, yes.

We were still far apart when the carriage hobbled back down the bridge, no doubt picking up someone else’s parent who hadn’t lied to them about their entire life.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The cold bit at my cheeks and my teeth chattered.

“Sorry for what, exactly?”

His brows tugged inward. Never had there been hesitation between us. We’d always been close. Laughter and happiness. Not uncertainty. But now, as I stared into those eyes, I didn’t find the same comfort.

“For not telling you how special you are.”

My eyes shut and I sucked in a breath as a warm tear squeezed its way out and trickled down into my mouth. “No.” I shook my head, still aching to deny it all. “It can’t be true. I’m not…
fictional
.” My voice was so hushed, I was surprised he heard me at all.

The second he stepped out of the carriage a part of me knew the truth, yet I hoped to deny it, like I hoped to deny how Dad had lied to me for seventeen years. A bitter taste turned in my mouth. It wasn’t like he lied to me about what BMW stood for or where babies came from. He lied to me about who I was, who he was, our lineage and worst of all, he left me here clueless. Who did that to the person they loved?

Dad closed the space between us and wiped the tear from my cheek. “You, my daughter, are too real to ever be a work of fiction.” His callused hands cupped my cheeks. Watery brown eyes stared back at me, begging for my forgiveness. “I was trying to protect you.”

Putting space between us, I dragged my hand over my face, wiping the moisture away and sniffled. “From what?”

The Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed and his attention flickered to the castle behind us. The roof was covered in a thin layer of crisp, white snow, a picture of perfection to those who didn’t know the evil lurking inside.

“Them.”

Setting my coat on the back of the chair, I sat at a table in the library. Across from me, Dad sipped on a cup of piping hot black coffee. With his coat off, I could admire the argyle vest and pale yellow tie. His knuckles were dry and cracked, his eczema had flared up again.

The temperatures had dropped significantly since last night, so sitting outside wasn’t an option. The library was empty, even the librarian was out for the day. Most people hung out in the courtyard or the cafeteria, but I needed to be alone with Dad, and since dorms were off limits, the library it was.

I traced a circle on the table, nerves built inside, making it hard to get my mind in check. How could I think when a nightmare played out in front of me? My stomach coiled with nausea, like a vicious snake hell bent on destroying me.

“First, you need to realize everything you thought you knew about yourself, about me, is a lie. My real name is Jonathan Grimm.” He stared into his coffee, breathing it in as if it gave him courage, before piercing his dark eyes into mine. “I am a descendent of the Grimm Brothers. Using a different last name made it harder for the council to track me down when I left. It also made it impossible for them to know who you were when you arrived.”

I swallowed hard, my hands wound together in my lap. My father was related to the men who were famous for creating fairy tales and folklore. A part of me found it fascinating, the other part remembered what happened to Koyte when he tried to run away. “I thought hiding from the council was unheard of.”

A grin twitched the edge of his lips. “Artists and writers can work from anywhere. We’re on the low end of the totem pole, especially now. The council rarely cares what we do.”

“You’re a Grimm, right? Isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

“We were. My father was on the council. I was next in line when he passed. We were quite powerful.”

“Were?”

“I’m getting ahead of myself. So you know about me, who I am, but you need to know about your mother too.” He bit on his bottom lip before taking a sip of coffee. “Natalia Petrovich, a princess.” So I was a princess. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I didn’t stop him. Instead, I drank in his words. “I’m surprised no one has linked you two together yet. I swear, Norah, you are a walking replica of her. Anyway, we met at summer camp when we were seventeen. Anyone was allowed to go no matter your ranking. The moment I saw her I knew she was the one.”

Dad smiled, the fear from earlier was almost nonexistent. A part of me wanted to stop him. I was on information overload already and we’d barely scratched the surface. If I was going to embrace this fairy tale shit, I had to know it all, beginning to end, nothing left to the imagination.

“She was beautiful, like a Russian goddess. Power flowed through her veins and people flocked to her side. I was no different than the others. She enchanted me. We fell in love that summer and seventeen years later, I can honestly say, she was my first and last. Forbidden love has power unlike no other.”

My throat tightened. “Forbidden, why?”

He glanced around the library, reassuring himself that we were alone. “There are certain rules here, pre-destinies and all. At the end of the summer, when Natalia turned eighteen, she’d be forced to marry. Her life had been written long before she’d ever existed. Instead of chasing after her, I ran away and consumed myself in the mortal world.”

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