by Holly Hook
"We should run," Tate said.
But I couldn't move.
The farmer quickened his pace. He was an older man. Gruff. His face was all sunken lines and his skin very tan. He held his pitchfork out in front of him while he glared at us. I held my hands up to show him I was no threat. I glanced down at my bright red hoodie. It was going to stand out here, and I must look like an alien to these people who wore leather and black and brown. Tate blended in a little bit better with his steam-punk outfit, but it still looked too modern for this place.
"Are you two with Alric?" the man demanded. He stopped about ten feet away. The old farmer was afraid to approach. He kept eyeing my hoodie. It grew hot in the sun.
"Who's Alric?" Tate asked, more to him than me.
"Are you?" he asked. The guy was shaking.
"No," I said. "We're not with anyone named Alric. We just got here. Through a portal. My grandmother got kidnapped by people who said they were with Alric, and I'm here to get her back."
The man kept his pitchfork up. He had some trust issues, all right. This Alric guy must be bad news. "A portal?" he asked. "Those are rare. Very, very rare, at least here in Fable. You're not a famous Legend, are you?"
"A what?" I asked. Grandma had mentioned something about Legends.
He jabbed the pitchfork towards us. "Only famous Legends have had a reason to flee Fable in the past. Alric has been trying to bring them back here. You are the ones he's after. The two of you need to leave this village. We don't want any more of his goons around here or God forbid, Alric himself. Go!"
I was confused. I backed up a bit so I really wouldn't look like a threat. "Look, I'm not sure what I am. I'm not. I just want to find my grandmother. Did you see a woman with a pink hat and pink pants--um, I mean trousers--come through here about a day ago? She's the one I'm searching for."
The man's gaze softened, but it was just for a second. Then he put his rough mask back up. "We spotted some Watchers yesterday. They did have the woman you describe with them. We don't need Alric or his forces coming here to look for you. If you have any connection with her--and I hope not for your sake--we can't have you anywhere near us." He jabbed the pitchfork again. The guy didn't want to hit us. He was terrified.
I couldn't go. Not yet. I had gone through a portal into some other world. Fable. I had figured out that much, at least. And Alric was a bad guy.
"Where did they take her?" I asked.
"Harold!"
The man jumped and whirled around. An old woman was standing there, dressed in a dark green dress. She looked like a matron.
"Mary," he told her. "I suspect these two may be famous Legends. They have a connection to the sighting we had yesterday." It was clear Mary had some authority here.
The old woman leaned around Harold to peer at us. Her eyes widened when they landed on me. The woman might be even older than the man was. In her late seventies or eighties, even. "I don't think this young couple is any threat to us. Alric rarely recruits young people was Watchers."
"I know that," Harold said. "But if they're famous Legends tied to a famous story, Alric will want them. He will do anything to this village to secure them."
I almost felt like I wasn't there. I glanced at Tate, and he nodded at me.
"I'm looking for my grandmother," I said.
"We need to chase them away!" Harold shouted.
"Not if Alric doesn't know they are here," Mary told him. The woman hobbled forward and took my hand. Tate tried to move in front of me, but it was too late.
"You are Red, correct?" she asked. Her deep blue eyes gazed into my own. They were full of knowledge. Of knowledge. She might be the wise woman of the village.
She knew my name. I gulped. "Yes." This whole thing continued to get stranger by the second.
The old woman ran her hand over mine and squeezed, almost like she was trying to comfort me. "Then you had better come with us. You have a terrifying quest before you."
Chapter Four
Tate faced me as we followed the old couple to the village. It wasn't a long walk, but it was long enough for the old man to grumble a bunch of meaningless things to the old woman. Probably about me. They didn't seem to care that Tate was there. He might just be an extra in all of this.
I was getting the idea that maybe Grandma had lied to me about a lot of things.
Like my entire life.
The old woman had a small house on the edge of the village. She opened the wooden door, and the scent of straw and lumber wafted out. It wasn't bad. So far, this world hadn't been too terrible so far. Except for the fact that my grandmother was still missing, taken away by that gang of people with the red tattoos. I hadn't mentioned that to the old woman yet, but it seemed like she already knew about it. And me.
I glanced at the woods behind us. The field in front of them was all bright and happy with its flowers, but the forest appeared a little bit dark, and it got worse the farther in it went. A road led right into the woods, and a single wagon rolled out of it, pulled by a tired-looking horse. It wasn't the other world, all right.
It might be the world that Grandma and I were supposed to have originated.
She had lied to me a lot. I suddenly didn't feel so bad about lying to her about the trip.
"I still say this couple is dangerous," Harold said. He stood on the side of the old woman's house, scowling. But at least he'd dropped his pitchfork.
"You may go," Mary told him. "I will take care of this." She waved us in.
Inside the house, there was a little table with a candle burning, even though the window was enough to light the place for the time being. There were already a couple of people sitting at the table, a girl in a yellow dress the same color as the straw lying out in the sun, and a short guy with floppy hair and a leather hat not too different from Tate's. There was something odd about the short guy. He seemed to glow with some inner radiance, and he grinned at us.
"Nice hat," he told Tate. "Good taste."
"Thanks." Tate adjusted his and moved over to the far side of the room. It wasn't a big house by any means, and it was probably a strain for the old woman to have everyone in here like this. I crammed over to the window, where a pot of flowers and some pots of herbs were growing. I smelled dill and mint. It was an odd combo.
"Oh, sit down," the old woman said. "Don't mind all the parchment on the table. I've been writing down the adventures of these two. I've made it my job to keep track of all the happenings in Fable."
The old man hung by the door. "Mary," he said. "You shouldn't be hosting so many famous Legends in here with you. When are you going to learn?"
It was like he was scolding the local cat lady. I had to stand up for her. "Look," I said. "We're people. We're not annoying animals that are going to come over and crap in your yard."
"Listen to Red," Mary told him. "Go off and finish baling your hay."
The old man stalked off, grumbling the entire time. I was glad he was gone. Tate faced me and sighed in relief.
"Don't mind him," she said. "He's a local farmer who is never happy with anything. I'm Mary, as you heard. You can go ahead and have a seat."
"No, really," I said. There were only four chairs at the table and Mary was right. Yellow papers covered the table, and there was a quill sitting there next to a bottle of ink. I caught a bit of writing on the paper closest to me. King Henrik's Fall, the title read. "You can sit down." Tate wasn't sitting either. This woman almost looked like one of the witches in the old fairy tales, but I knew better. And this woman's eyes were kind. Not evil. I didn't see a trace of evil in them.
"No, I insist. Sit down. You're going to need it."
"Mary won't sit," said the short guy with the floppy hair. He gave off a crackling sensation, like the magic Tate and I had felt standing in the middle of the Magic Kingdom at midnight. "She's always busy. You might as well."
I gave in and pulled out a chair, sitting next to the girl with the yellow dress. She smiled at me, but under her eyes was d
arkness. Weariness. She'd seen some things. Even the guy looked tired with his inner radiance and all. Then I noticed they were holding hands under the table. I wondered what it was like having this guy hold your hand.
Tate sat down next to me and removed his hat. "I should have done this when I came through the door. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," the old woman said. "I'm not all worried about manners and such when there are far worse things happening in Fable these days."
"So this world is called Fable," I said.
"You just got here?" the girl in the golden dress asked. Her skirt had some tears in it as if she'd crawled through a bit of barbed wire. Her palm also had a healing cut in it like she'd made some blood sacrifice.
These people had just been through something terrible.
"Yes," I said. "I'm looking for my grandmother. She got taken here about a day ago by some people she called Watchers. One guy said something about a portal and Legends. I don't know what's going on, but you seem like nice people, so if someone could point out where my grandmother could be and how to get her back, that would be great."
Tate leaned back a little in his chair. I could tell he was a bit nervous--even more nervous than he was right before we were going to try the hot tub that was a whole world away by now. I had dragged him into something.
"Watchers," the girl said, looking at the short guy. He turned his head to face her. His ear was pointed, like an elf's. Tate glanced at me and lifted his eyebrows. What's this, he seemed to be asking.
I shook my head. I wasn't going to stare. Somehow, a guy with elf ears didn't seem too weird. Not after the portal, anyway.
"We don't like Watchers," the elf guy said. "They're always posted in the other world, looking for Legends like us. And when they find us, they report back to King Henrik. Well, they won't be reporting to King Henrik anymore, since he's a hundred leagues down in the ground." He grinned like he was enjoying some inside joke. But then it faded. "They'll all be reporting to Alric now, his magician who just took over the dark region. Trust me, he's not a good guy, and I'm sorry you're in his sights."
"Alric," I said. "My grandmother was talking about him in his sleep. Does she know the guy?"
"If she does, that's even worse," the elf guy said. He looked at the girl. "I take it it's my job to be the explainer here?"
"You've spent a much longer time than I have here," the girl told him. "You're good at explaining. Sometimes. You do tend to leave out details."
"We've both been here for lifetimes. You can do some explaining, too."
Lifetimes. This place was making less and less sense. "Excuse me," I said. "If you could tell me who you all are and what this place is and what this Alric wants with my grandmother, that would be great. Because I'm terrified and confused and I just want to find her and get back home safely, so Tate doesn't have to be a permanent resident here."
The old woman returned from the kitchen with a mug of tea. I hadn't even realized she'd left. I accepted it and sniffed. Mint. It smelled pretty good. "Thanks," I told her.
Tate took a sip. "I'm not dropping dead," he said. "I think it's safe to drink."
"Fable," the old woman explained, "is the world where fairytales, both famous and obscure, exist and play out over and over. Its characters are also reborn over and over. Alric is an evil magician from a fairytale known as the Glass Coffin. He is capable of changing his form, shrinking entire kingdoms and stuffing them in boxes, and other dark and horrible things. He resides in the dark region of Fable, where the darkest aspects and characters of Fable all live. Before Brie and Stilt here had a terrifying adventure in the dark region, King Henrik was the most powerful man there."
As she spoke, the girl and boy--Brie and Stilt--sunk lower and lower in their chairs. Whatever had happened to them in the dark region and whatever they had done had made things worse for all of Fable. There was a story hanging between them, one as heavy as a giant mountain.
Tate grabs onto the table and stares at Mary. "That sounds like fun. Tell me I'm dreaming."
"These two," Mary said, drawing up behind Brie and Stilt, "overthrew King Henrik, the leader of the dark region. His magician rose to the throne in his absence. He also inherited all of Henrik's gold, and gold here is the same as magic. Henrik almost had enough to extend his power over all of Fable. Now, Alric has all that power and more. He was already an advanced magic user before he took the throne and now he has the means to bend Fable to his will."
I shuddered. I could find nothing to say. Mary walked around the table as she spoke.
"I'm a story keeper," Mary explained. "The people of Fable come to me and tell me the news. There are already stories of Alric gathering as many dark forces in Fable as he can. I've heard other things, too. Dark spots form even in the lighter parts of Fable now. This entire world is beginning to sink into darkness."
Brie and Stilt drew closer together. Brie faced Stilt as if scared something was going to happen to him.
Mary leaned closer to me. It was as if everyone else wasn't there.
“Dark spots?" I asked.
“You'll see them,” she told me. “There's one a couple of miles from here in the forest. They grow slowly, but if Alric continues to stay in power, all of Fable will fall in a matter of years. Or sooner, if he manages to make any fairy tales fail."
"Huh?" I asked.
Mary gestured to the girl and the elf guy. They both withered as if they were somehow at fault. I wondered if they were supposed to be characters in a fairy tale that I knew. The girl’s eyes were full of guilt.
“Ever seen a football stadium?” the girl, Brie, asked. “Imagine one of those full of gold. Henrik had that. I saw it. Alric has all of that now that we’ve gotten rid of the King and now he's gotten more powerful.” She faced the elf guy, Stilt. “We’re guilty, I guess. It was us who helped spin a lot of that gold. And I led Alric right to that mountain where the bandits hid their stash.”
“Spin gold?” I asked. “You mean, like in that one story?”
“Yes,” Stilt said. It was his turn to look at fault. “The one you’re thinking of.”
I got up. “Where’s the exit?”
Stilt pointed to the door. “Right there.”
“No. I mean, the exit to this world? I’m not having any part of this.” Grandma was right to tell me to run. A scream was rising inside of me, and I couldn't stifle it much longer.
“I have to get Red home,” Tate said, rising to stand beside me. “This is way too crazy for us.”
I breathed out. I had a feeling I knew where I fit here. I took off my hoodie and left it lying over Mary’s chair. I stood out even more in my Disney World T-shirt, but it was better than the alternative.
My grandmother.
I had to rescue her, and my name was—
“Portals don’t work that way,” Mary said before I could finish my thought out loud. “They form in the other world, in places that remind people of the old fairy tales, and they only work at midnight. I used to live in the other world until I came through a portal thirty years ago by mistake. I was up late at my library, getting the place decorated for an event the next day. I was going to read some of the Grimm’s fairy tales to the children. While I was decorating, I must have transported myself to another world at just the right moment, because when the clock struck midnight, I came here to Fable. I’ve been here ever since. I came through with my book, and nothing else.”
“And your clothes, I hope,” Tate said.
“Yes. My clothes, too,” Mary said. I expected her to be angry, but she laughed. “Don't worry. I appreciate some humor. The point is, portals open in places and in situations that make us feel like we’re in fairy tales, and only at midnight. It is difficult to get back out of Fable. You need a powerful magical artifact to do so. Like a magic mirror or a powerful being who can grant your wishes. Even in Fable, they are hard to find.”
My heart sank. We had gone through a one-way door. Well, almost. I swallowed.
&
nbsp; Grandma had forbidden Disney World. She'd thrown out the princess birthday cake. She banned pumpkins. Even camping in the woods.
They all had one thing in common.
Fairy tales.
Grandma knew about this place all along. I shot Tate a knowing look. He returned it. Finally, at last, my life was starting to make more sense. Grandma had been trying to keep me away from here. It didn't explain all of the things that she flipped over, but at least I had an explanation for some of her craziness.
Was this place my real home?
Mary left the room and came back with a large leather-bound book. I forced myself to sit back down in the chair. I was here. I might as well see what she had to say. I didn't have a choice.
My heart pounded as Mary set the large book down in front of Tate and me. No, me. She wasn’t even looking at him.
“I’m not a Legend,” Mary said. “I’m just a librarian who’s here by mistake, a guardian of information. Even most of the native people here are just extras, the townspeople and the peasants in these stories. But I think I know who you are.”
I could read the gold leaf on the front of the leather book. Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Complete Collection. The book had to be old. It was probably Mary’s prized possession and the same book she meant to read to the kids. She flipped open the book and some story about a sausage spread out in front of me, but then she turned the page and what it stopped at made every word die in my throat.
Little Red Riding Hood.
No one spoke for a long time. Tate swallowed and glanced at me. His brown eyes were huge and terrified.
I got up, headed for the door, and ran outside.
I wasn't going to have any part in this.
"Red!" Tate shouted from behind me.
The sun blinded me as I ran through the village. More chickens scattered. Tate's footfalls fell behind me as I bolted around another house and past a pen of pigs, which were all clean, by the way. I dodged past another wagon full of eggs sitting there by the road and in the opposite direction of the forest. The fields all spread out in front of me. I had to get to the other world, but there was no magic feeling, no tingle to tell me I had reached a portal.
