The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 2 (27 page)

I reached out and grabbed his warm hand. He sounded more like himself again, but there was no time to feel relieved. My heart had begun racing. The shadows were closer now, stalking toward the car like cats on the prowl. Coming from every direction. As if they’d been waiting for us.

“I was gonna come back tonight anyway,” Chase continued. He sighed. “I was gonna ask to be really smart, too. Just so I’d have it all. How stupid is that?”

I tightened my grip on his hand. It was getting hard to control my breathing now. The shadowy figures were almost upon us. My brain went into full hero mode, searching for the safest way out of this. Five of them stood behind the car. They’d laid something across the road ahead—there was nowhere to drive. With the streetlights out, they seemed to moved swiftly through the darkness.

But I could see their eyes. The moonlight reflected in their eyes. Dozens and dozens of white eyes all around the car, moving closer.

“Hey,” Chase said, tugging on my hand. “Are you listening to me? The reason I wanted to be smart was so I could still talk to
you
.”  

“Chase … that would be really sweet if not for the fact that you relied on a magic fish,” I said with a weak smile. I reached into my purse, grabbing the magic pen. I stuffed it in my pocket.

He smiled back. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel different, somehow. Not just because I can walk again, either. I feel …”

“Chase.” I reached out with one finger, lifting his chin so our eyes locked. “Listen to me. Something is about to happen to us. It’s going to be weird and scary, but I want you to promise me you won’t fight back.”

He smiled and cocked his head, obviously confused. Through the driver’s-side window, I could see shadowy figure skulking across the street. “Weirder than a magic fish?”

“Promise me you won’t fight back.”

“Alice, I don’t—”

A fist broke through the driver’s-side window. Chase flinched, spinning in his seat. The fist unclenched, reaching for the collar of Chase’s baseball jersey and pulling him to the window. His seatbelt tightened; I reached out, unbuckling him.

“Alice! What—no!” he cried out as the shadowy hand pulled him through the broken window.

They were even less subtle with me, opting instead to simply tear away the passenger’s-side door. I unbuckled before they could grab me, not willing to fight. Their cold, wet hands wrapped around my arms, pulling me out. They were both tall, both wearing tattered fishing gear that had been stained with fish guts and who-knew-what-else. Their short, wet hair clung to their skulls. No smiles for them, either—heavy, unkempt beards hid their mouths. Shadows covered them like tattoos.

I let them drag me across the street, down the dock and toward the horrifying old ship. The
Leviathan
. Just like in my dreams. I staved off panic with the knowledge that the pen was safely stashed in my pocket. I tried to remember that despite their horrifying visage, the two sailors clutching my arms weren’t Corrupted—underneath those shadows were human beings. Cursed human beings, but human beings nonetheless.

Maybe I could save them yet.

Chapter 7

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.
[iv]

The ship slowly pulled away from the harbor, a single unfurled sail catching an unfelt wind. I suddenly felt a whole lot
less
confident.

Ishmael stood beside us. The sailors had tied rope tightly around our wrists and now we were prisoners on deck, waiting for the captain to emerge from his cabin. Behind us, the sailors shouted orders to each other as they tied down loose sheets and prepped the fishing net. Over the captain’s cabin, I watched the city get smaller and smaller.

We passed the breakwater. A wave splashed against the hull of the ship and water sprayed across our faces. It was cold. I felt a shiver run down my back—as the shoreline slipped away, the water seemed to close in around the ship, squeezing it so tight that the wooden hull creaked and groaned.

Chase’s bound hands found mine. He squeezed my fingers. Warmth replaced the cold deep inside my bones.

“All hands!” came a shout. The sailors gathered on either side of us, forming two columns. All of their heads were bent low, their white eyes peering up at us from under their dark brows. I could feel the icy cold radiating off of the shadows that swirled around their bodies, but Chase’s touch kept the darkness at bay.

“Ready for inspection, Captain!” Ishmael shouted.

“What’s going on?” Chase asked, fumbling with the rope around his wrists.

“Just stop struggling,” I said quietly, staring at the door of the captain’s cabin. “Let me handle it.”

Chase turned, glaring. “That’s not reassuring.”

“It should be.”

The captain’s door flew open, slamming on its rusted hinges against the cabin wall. A man’s form filled the doorway, tall, bulky, the candlelight flickering from inside his cabin. He stepped forward. His heavy black boots thumped on the wooden deck.

“Who is that?” Chase whispered.

The captain stepped closer, his movements unhindered by the swaying of the ship. He was a full head taller than Chase, wearing a heavy blue waistcoat more befitting of a pirate than a fisherman. Its brass buttons had tarnished to green and the fabric was stiff, its hem visibly crusted with layers of salt. His black woolen pants looked as if they’d been ripped and sewn together a hundred times before, tattooed with scars. One hand was missing, replaced with a fearsome-looking hook. The other hand was dark blue and shriveled like a corpse’s, with long bony fingers and disgusting dried nails.

“Oh man,” Chase murmured, taking a step back.

I hadn’t even taken a look at his face yet, and now that I finally got around to it, I couldn’t help but step back too. The captain’s face was a dead blue, just like his hand. One eye was hidden behind a leather eye patch. The other glowed eerily white. His cheeks were sunken, his nose long and sharp. A wild gray beard hung from his chin, filled with all sorts of things that shouldn’t be there: barnacles, seaweed, and—yup—even a little long-dead sea crab. One of its white claws was clutching the beard’s hairs. The beard was knotted and clumped into two ropy segments that descended over his chest like long, hairy tentacles.

He sniffed in through his rotten nose, smiling. “My ship!” he called out in a booming voice. “Thou mightest well be taken now for the sea-chariot of the sun!”

“
Thou
?” Chase whispered to me. “Alice, what’s happening?”

The captain’s head snapped to Chase, then me. He smiled, raking his bony hand through his graying wet hair. “At last,” he said in a gravelly, clipped voice, “the hero has come to visit.”

Chase looked at me. “Huh?”

My eyes widened. “Um …”

The captain tipped his head back, cackling madly. The shadowy crew joined in. When he stopped, they shut up just as quickly. He studied me with one eye. I swear that white eye was glowing brighter than the moon. It had bloodshot veins and was secreting pus, causing my stomach to lurch.

“Why are ye so surprised?” he asked. “Have ye not been skulking around my ship every night?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I was having a hard enough time hiding my terror—hiding my surprise was impossible.

The captain laughed again. His crew joined in. He silenced them by raising his hook in the air.

“Alice, what’s he talking about?” Chase asked. He was breathing heavily. When I didn’t respond, he turned back to the captain. “You need to release us. You’re breaking the law.”

The captain snorted, his white eye gleaming devilishly. I felt my heart sink in my chest. There seemed to be no pupil or iris … just a terrifying milky white orb that twitched in its socket. I watched incredulously as Chase took one step to the side, edging himself in front of me. I was the
hero
and even I wasn’t that brave, for crying out loud. I was just trying to keep my head straight and Chase was standing protectively in front of me, staring down this nightmarish beast of a captain. I couldn’t believe it.

The captain wasn’t quite so impressed. He reached out, grabbing Chase by his shirt and pulling him closer. The captain’s dry, pale lips cracked into a smile. “I have every intention of releasing ye, dear boy. Just as soon as ye summon the fish.”

Chase’s mouth opened. A look of terrified realization spread over his face.

The captain shook him violently. “Do ye take me for a fool? Do ye think I can’t smell the stink of the
wish
upon you?” He reached around Chase’s leg with his hook, lifting it up. Chase tried to hop back but the captain held him close. “Do ye think this is
real
, boy? This leg of yours? Do ye think the fish will let you keep it?”

“I … I made a wish,” Chase said, his mouth quivering.

“And the fish will take it back,” the captain snapped. “Whenever he feels like it. But I can help you, boy. Call for the fish! Call for him and I’ll kill him and you’ll keep your legs forever!”

“Chase,” I whispered.

“Call him, boy!”

Chase shook his head, looking down at the deck. “Fish,” he said in a low voice.

The captain shook him again. “Louder! Let the stars and heavens hear ye!”

“Fish!” Chase called out, shutting his eyes.

We stood by the railing, staring out at the empty lake. The Milwaukee skyline had disappeared over the horizon. We were alone on the black water. I had a sudden realization as my heart plunged into my stomach: I was afraid. I had no plan, no idea how to get us out of this. We were
alone
out on the water, and the inescapable knowledge of that made it hard to breathe.

“Chase, you don’t know what the fish really is,” I whispered.

The captain hooked the rope binding my wrists and drew me closer. I could see the dead crab hanging in his beard wiggle when his bony cheek twitched. His breath smelled something awful: cigarette butts mixed with barf. “I’ve waited a long time for this, lass. It was no coincidence that ye appeared on my ship. It was no coincidence that ye could be seen by my cursed crew.”

“Let my friend go,” I said, pulling on the rope binding my wrists. The captain didn’t budge—he was too strong.

“Once his part in this is done,” the captain said. “We all must play the role that’s been written for us, lass. The fish will come to your friend. Then I’ll catch it. Then you’ll help me kill it.”

“Then I’ll kill you,” I added, staring into his horrifying white eye.

The captain smiled crookedly, revealing rotted brown teeth. Some were missing. Others were cracked and jagged. He turned to his crew. “Ready the net! Unfurl t’gallant sails! Open-reef the top sails!”

The sailors ran between the masts, grabbing at ropes and tying them off. One of the sails was unfurled and the ship tilted toward the right. I clutched the railing, feeling my stomach churn.

“Call again,” the captain growled to Chase. “And this time split your lungs on blood and thunder, boy!”

“Fish!” Chase called out. “Fish, I command you!”

At first, there was nothing at all—just the sound of water splashing against the hull of the ship as she picked up speed. Then, something small broke the surface of the water far off the starboard bow.

“There!” Ishmael cried behind me. “Something in the water!”

“The fish,” Chase said. He sounded relieved. He turned to me, his eyes searching mine. “Alice, you don’t
know
. My legs ...”

“I understand, really. But Chase ...” My mind scrambled for a way to tell him, to explain the things
he
didn’t know. But there was no time.

The captain’s decayed hand came quick, too quick for me to block it. Worse, it wasn’t aimed at me at all, and when it connected with Chase’s head, he dropped to the deck like a sack of potatoes. Out cold.

“You didn’t have to do that!” I screamed.

The captain ignored me. He slammed his hook onto the bulwark railing, digging its point into the wood. “Come up on the fish and prepare the nets!” he called over his shoulder.

“Ay-ay, captain!” the sailor at the stern called out, turning the massive wooden wheel to the right. My feet danced on the deck as the ship tilted violently.

“Captain!” called out one of the shadowy men near the front of the ship. He was pointing to the water. The shape was closer now. And bigger.

“What’s this then?” the captain murmured, peering over the bulwark to get a better look.

A massive white body broke the surface, followed by the fat y-shaped tail. For a moment, the giant creature was in the air, showing us its belly. Then it came crashing down with such force that I could feel the deck shudder underneath my feet. Powerful waves hit the
Leviathan’s
starboard side, forcing her to roll left. Everyone lost their footing, sliding across the wet deck. I fell to my knees and threw one arm across Chase’s unconscious body. My right hand clutched the bulwark while the left clutched Chase. I felt every muscle in my arms and fingers strain under the weight but kept a strong grip until the ship righted itself.

The captain looked down at me, one eyebrow raised. “A
fish
, eh?”

“Captain?” Ishmael said, stumbling across the deck.

“Throw the boy in my cabin!” the captain ordered.

Ishmael gently pulled me to my feet and jerked his head for me to follow the captain while another sailor dragged Chase’s unconscious body toward the cabin. More of the sailors followed, skulking beside us, staring at the captain with a mixture of rapture and fear. Shadows clung to them like mud.

“I don’t understand what happened,” I said. “It was a fish. He could fit in a freaking soup bowl!”

The captain grunted, opening the cabin door and dragging Chase inside. “And ye call yerself a hero, eh?” He turned to me, his blue upper lip curled into a snarl. “Such a foolish lass. Do ye understand how yer so-called magic pen works, or do I have to explain that, too?”

“It
was
a fish.”

“Aye, and now it’s
Corrupted
.” Off the starboard side, a great spout of water erupted from the white whale’s blowhole. The ship was keeping up with it on a steady straight line. It refused to change course, as if it was daring the captain to try his luck. Its body was nearly as large as the
Leviathan
.

“The whale spouts thick blood,” Ishmael whispered.

The captain turned back to me. “Have ye not seen one turn Corrupted yet, dear hero?” When I didn’t answer, he laughed. “Oh, sweet little girl, did ye think we all slowly rot?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Might be it happened in an instant. Sometimes, it does. For those like me it happened real slow-like, taking us over like gangrene. I watched it happen to my wife, so fast I could barely say goodbye to her. She turned into a monster, one so terrifying that it was only a matter of days before a hero arrived, slaying her while I watched from a distance like a frightened dog.

“Then I felt the Corruption begin to turn me as well. I grew more obsessed with the fish. My hatred began to consume me.” His putrid-looking hand curled into a fist. “I thirsted for salt water—it seemed to run through my veins. I fished for every creature under the sea, desperate in my search. Every time the trail went cold over the years, I felt a piece of the good old honest fisherman die.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. For a moment, just a moment, the hard lines on the captain’s ghoulish face seemed to soften. He turned starboard, watching the whale swim alongside the ship. His face hardened again.

“For some,” he continued, “the Corruption takes them quick. The poor miller might go to bed thinking about nothing but his beautiful children … and wake up with a thirst for blood in his gullet.” He spat a yellowish wad of saliva on the deck. “That’s for the Brothers Grimm.” He spat again. “And that’s for the hero who killed my wife.”

“What of the coin, captain?” Ishmael asked.