The Grimm Legacy (12 page)

I shook my head.

“What did he look like?”

“Short, with a beard. I’ve seen him in the Main Exam Room.”

“Will you come and find me if you see him again?”

“Of course. Why do you think he wanted my package so badly? Do you think he’s the guy who’s stealing things from the Grimm Collection?”

“I wish I knew. But right now I’m more concerned about the creature. Can you describe it?”

“It definitely looked like an enormous bird. It was bigger than me and it came flying right at me. But then another huge bird—or something, I couldn’t see too clearly—showed up and then I bumped into the guy with the beard, and then the bird or birds were both gone. Do you think the man was right—were they after the package? Would they have hurt me?”

“I’m very glad they didn’t, at any rate. Probably the man was right and they were after the package.”

“But what
were
they?”

“The bird sounds like the one we’ve heard about before. This is the first I’ve heard of the other creature, though. Was this the first time you saw them?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the bird before—through the skylight in Preservation and through Anjali’s window.”

“What did Stan Mauskopf have to say—did you tell him?”

“Just that I thought I had seen the bird—but that was before it chased me and I got a better look and the stuff happened with the package.”

“Did Stan give you a charm or a ward or anything?”

“No . . . well, yes, I almost forgot; he gave me a feather.”

Doc’s face brightened. “Good—that’s just the thing. Make sure you keep it with you. I’m sorry about all this. I knew it would be challenging for you to bring me the acrobats, but I had no idea it would be dangerous too. You can be proud of yourself. You’ve passed a harder test than we intended.”

“What do you mean? What test?”

“For borrowing privileges.”

“You don’t mean—the Grimm Collection?”

Doc nodded. “Stan asked you to bring me the dancers to see whether you’re responsible enough to be trusted to take care of Grimm items outside the repository. Clearly the answer is yes.”

“You mean it? I can borrow things now?
Magic
things?”

“Yes. Whenever you feel ready.”

“Can I take out anything I like? Even, like, I don’t know—a genie bottle?”

Doc smiled. “I wouldn’t go straight for the genie bottles right away. The Grimm objects can be pretty tricky. Best to start with something small.”

“All right. Thank you!” This was so exciting!

“Meanwhile,” said Doc, “given the recent thefts and that bird, I’ll be changing the door codes and the procedures. Librarians have master keys, but you pages will need two keys to get in, yours and another page’s—Anjali, Aaron, or Marc—as well as the key song. You’ll have to go down there in pairs so you can keep an eye on each other. Never lend your key to anyone, and let me know if anyone asks to borrow it.”

“I will. I’ll do everything I can to keep the collection safe,” I said fervently.

I hoped I could keep myself safe too.

Chapter 12:

An invisible armchair

I was excited the next day when Ms. Callender sent me to work in the Grimm Collection with Aaron.

“What will we be doing there?” I asked. “Running slips?”

“Yes, if you get any. I mostly just want someone down there keeping an eye on things. Until we catch the thief, at least we can try to make things harder for them by guarding the collection.”

Aaron was at the door when I arrived. He looked different in the bright, fluorescent light. I realized I had only spent time with him in the half darkness on Stack 2. He was surprisingly normal-looking without all the dramatic shadows. Handsome, even—I made myself do him the justice of admitting it. He had pronounced, chiseled features, like a prince in a fairy tale. High cheekbones, a single dark curl tumbling gracefully over an upright forehead, and a cleft chin. “There you are,” he said. “Where’ve you been? I can’t get in without both keys.”

“Sorry I kept you waiting!” I held my binder clip against the door and sang, as softly as I could. I didn’t want to risk any sarcastic comments about my singing voice.

“Louder,” said Aaron. “They’ll never hear you in the back of the house.”

The lock didn’t mind; it clicked open.

“That was the point,” I said. “I was trying not to hurt everybody’s ears.”

“Why? You didn’t sound so bad, at least the part I could hear.”

“Um, thanks.”

I held the door for Aaron and followed him into the Grimm Collection. There were two chairs by the pneum station: an armchair carved elaborately from dark wood with a velvet seat and back and a standard-issue gray metal folding chair. I hesitated. The armchair looked more comfortable, but it also looked old enough to be part of the collection. Perhaps the folding chair was safer?

While I was deliberating, Aaron sat down in the armchair.

I unfolded the folding chair and sat down myself. I took off my sweater too and draped it over the back.

Aaron took out a book.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“H. G. Wells.
The War of the Worlds.
”

“Any good?”

“So far.” He leaned back in the chair and stretched out his legs.

“You look comfy. What is that chair? Is it part of the collection?” I asked.

Aaron looked up from his book and grinned. “Naturally. It’s in here, isn’t it?”

“So it’s magic? What does it do?”

“It’s amazing. When I lower my weight onto it, it magically causes my butt not to hit the ground.”

“Uh-huh. Unlike every other chair in the universe.”

“Yes, but this one does it so much better,” he said. “Even better than that one over there.” He pointed to the blank wall on the other side of the pneum station.

“Where? I don’t see any chair,” I said.

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you? It’s invisible,” said Aaron. He got up and walked over to the wall where he’d been pointing, then lowered himself until his knees were bent at a right angle.

“You’re faking it,” I said.

“Whatever you say.” He crossed his legs and opened his book. If he really was miming, he must have very strong legs.

I walked over and inspected him. His legs seemed steady. “How long can you go on sitting that way?” I asked.

“As long as you want, unless we have to run a call slip or something. It’s a comfortable chair,” said Aaron. “Want to try it?” He got up and stepped aside, as if he were offering me his chair.

“Ha! You can’t fool me. You just got up because your legs were tired,” I said.

“My legs, tired? From sitting in this comfortable chair? Don’t be silly. Try it, you’ll see,” he said.

“Okay, I will.” I lowered myself slowly along the wall.

A little past the point where the chair seat should have been I lost my balance and slid to the floor.

Aaron held out his hand, laughing. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth! I tried to stop that elf from pulling the chair out from under you at the last minute, but I didn’t catch him in time. Bad elf!”

“Pig!” I said, laughing myself and letting Aaron pull me to my feet. “I don’t really feel like sitting anyway,” I said. It seemed like such a waste to be sitting still in a room full of magic. I strolled over to the cabinets.

“What are you doing?” asked Aaron.

“Just looking around.”

“Don’t touch anything.”

“I’m not. Don’t touch anything yourself,” I said.

“No, really. All kidding aside, this stuff is dangerous. Don’t touch.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Instead of sitting back down with his book, Aaron strolled beside me.

“What’s the matter, you don’t trust me?
You’re
the one who tricked
me
into falling all over the floor,” I said, but I didn’t actually mind having him there. On my last visit down here, I remembered, the very air had seemed to be holding its breath with a threatening buzz. The place felt less threatening with Aaron there.

“You’re saying I made you weak in the knees? Well, I do tend to have that effect on girls,” said Aaron.

“You mean they trip all over their feet trying to get away from you?”

“Ooh, harsh,” he said.

I sniffed as I strolled, enjoying the shifting smells. Faint jasmine. Or was it honeysuckle? No, fresh-caught fish when you fillet it on the dock before putting it in the cooler. No, a wet feather pillow. No, plastic bags. Cough syrup.

We passed the bowls and cauldrons, the bottles, the shoes.

“Hey, Aaron. How come there are so many shoes down here?”

He shrugged. “They show up in a lot of fairy tales. ‘Puss in Boots.’ ‘Cinderella.’ ‘The Elves and the Shoemaker.’ Those stupid dancing princesses.”

“Stupid? That’s my favorite story! What’s stupid about them?”

“They were too busy thinking about dancing to notice a great big soldier in their boat, for one thing.”

“But he was invisible!”

“Like that would stop
you
from noticing. He was following them the whole time.”

“Well, the youngest princess did notice. She heard him breaking twigs in the forests of silver and gold and diamonds.”

“Okay, so maybe she was less stupid than her sisters. But she still had that dancing obsession like the rest of them. She wore out her shoes dancing every night. You wouldn’t waste all your nights like that, would you?”

“I couldn’t afford to,” I said, thinking of how much I’d enjoyed my dance classes with Nicole and my friends at my old school. But no more dance classes and no more old school, with Dad spending our money putting my stepsisters through college. “Which brings us back to the shoes in this collection. Why so many?”

“I don’t know. There weren’t any cars back when the Brothers Grimm were collecting stuff. Maybe they thought about shoes a whole lot because they had to walk everywhere and their feet hurt.”

“That’s an interesting theory. You think maybe other stuff was just as important, but the Grimm guys only noticed the shoe aspect? Like, they missed whole stories about hats and scarves because their feet hurt?”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah, I bet you’re right. There are a few hats here, but not nearly as many as the shoes.”

“So how did you get this job, anyway?” I asked.

“My science teacher.”

“Why’d he pick you?”

“For my brains and good looks, obviously.”

“Yeah, right. My social studies teacher picked me, but I can’t really figure out why.”

“For your brains and good looks, obviously.”

“Um, thanks.” Had Aaron just complimented me? Wow.

“Seriously, though,” I said. “Why
us
? I can’t believe my luck to be in a place like this. You know how when you were a little kid reading fairy tales, you always dreamed that the magic was true? Why are we the ones who get to find out it is?”

Aaron nodded slowly. “I know,” he said. “For me it was science fiction, but yeah, that’s exactly how I feel too. How can we be so lucky? Is it really just affinities, like Doc says?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the things you’re drawn to. The things you find compelling. Like the way I’m always trying to figure out how stuff works. Or with you, you always seem to be looking closely at everything. You see how objects relate to each other. It’s as if, for you, the whole world is alive.” He paused, then added with a little smile, “Except maybe invisible chairs.”

Wow, had he noticed that about me? That was pretty observant. “You know, you’re right,” I said. “I think I got that from my mother. She cared about objects, but not in a material way. She was always looking for the souls in things. She had this great antique doll collection—she treated them as if they were alive. Like she knew they had a past.”

We reached the end of the room and turned back toward the door. As we passed the rack of paintings, I felt eyes on my back, as if the figures in the paintings were looking at me.

Even with Aaron there, I felt spooked.

We heard a noise up front. The door was rattling, as if someone—or something—was trying to get in. I froze, then told myself not to be so silly. But I noticed Aaron looked alarmed too.

“Who’s there?” he asked loudly.

“It’s just me.” Anjali’s voice came through the door faint and muffled. “For some reason my key’s not working.”

“Hang on, we’ve got another one. You need two now,” I said. I held my clip to the door, sang the opening chant as softly and quickly and in key as I could, and pushed the door open.

“Thanks, Elizabeth,” said Anjali.

“Are you running a slip? What’s the item?” Aaron asked. He had that eager sound in his voice again, the way he always did around Anjali, and I remembered that I hated him.

“No, I—I think I forgot something last week. My . . . sweater. I think I left it in the back.”

It sounded like an excuse she’d made up on the spot. “I think I saw it back near the paintings. I’ll show you,” I said. Aaron got up to follow us. “You better stay here and keep an eye on the pneums,” I told him.

“If one comes, I’ll hear it thump.”

Boy, was he persistent! He just couldn’t keep away from her. “No, really, I—I need to talk to Anjali about something. Girl stuff again,” I said.

“Fine.” He sat back down.

Anjali and I walked back toward the wall of paintings. I stopped in front of the shoe section. “I know you didn’t actually forget your sweater. Is it the boots again?” I whispered.

Anjali nodded. She took the real boots out of her book bag and swapped them for the fakes, switching the tag. This time I found I could tell them apart easily. They might look exactly the same, but they gave off a different atmosphere. It was obvious—I didn’t even have to sniff. I wondered how I could ever have missed it.

“Can’t you make Marc stop taking them? He’s going to get in trouble. He’s going to get
you
in trouble—us.” I kept my voice down. I doubted Aaron could hear, all the way up in the front of the collection, but I had the feeling there were other ears listening all around us.

“Marc says it’s the last time.”

“Didn’t he say that before?”

“He has to pick up Andre. His mother’s working late.”

“He always has to pick up Andre.”

“I know. He says he’ll find some other solution.”

“Well, he’d better do it fast. Come on, you better get out of here.”

“Hey, you’re still wearing that!” Anjali touched the hot-pink yarn Jaya had knotted around my wrist. It was getting grubby, but it had lasted through quite a few showers. I nodded. Anjali said, “Jaya will be pleased.”

The door was opening as we got back to the front of the room. Ms. Callender came into the collection.

“Anjali? What are you doing here, honey? Didn’t I put you on Stack 9? Did I get mixed up?” said Ms. Callender. She consulted her clipboard.

“She came back for her sweater,” said Aaron helpfully.

Ms. Callender turned to Anjali. “Did you find it, honey?”

“Here,” I said, grabbing my sweater from the back of the folding chair and handing it to Anjali. Aaron frowned at me, but he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, so that’s where I left it,” said Anjali, a little too loudly. You’d think she would be better at lying, with a nosy little sister like Jaya. “Thanks, Elizabeth,” she said, putting on the sweater.