The Twisted Fairy Tale Box Set

by Holly Hook

  I was terrified.

  But I got up as quiet as I could and followed the wolf outside.

  We stood under the shadow of the tree cover overhead. The wolf looked at me, and turned his head to gesture me forward. I glanced back at the cave and saw Tate's head leaning back. He let out a snore, just not as obnoxious as Macon's.

  The wolf stood there, waiting for me to make up my mind. I nodded to him. "I'm coming," I said. "I need to be back here by morning."

  The wolf turned away. We need to go far, he said. On four legs, please.

  Fear squeezed at my heart, and a chill ran across my skin. "I don't want to."

  You must.

  The wolf bounded away, leaving me behind.

  "I don't know how."

  He stopped in a ray of moonlight. Follow me, then. I caught a bit of sneaky humor in his tone as if he knew something that I didn't.

  I glanced back at the cave again. I could dive back in and stay there. The wolf wouldn't force me out--would he? But maybe he was right that if I didn't follow, my story would fall. I knew nothing about this world and the creatures in it, or what their motives were. All the wolves were different, according to Macon.

  Or maybe this wolf was with Alric, and he was trying to lure me to evil. I had to make a choice, and the wrong one could mean disaster.

  I stepped after the wolf. What did he expect out of me? Macon had said I couldn't control the change without a whole bunch of practice, and besides, there was no way I wanted to do it again.

  I entered the moonlight, and the migraine socked me full force along with the horrible itch spreading across my body.

  And then I looked up.

  The moon hung right overhead, full and bright as I had ever seen it. This wolf had led me right into a trap.

  I went to jump back, but it was too late. I sank to my knees, and my joints cracked and popped, sending waves of pain through my body. My hands spread out on the ground and I tried to straighten up, to get back on my feet, but it was no use. The world blurred together and all the sounds intensified. I could make out different pitches in the cricket songs. Something moved over in the forest behind me, making twigs snap.

  And at last, the pain faded and the world cleared.

  Instead of my hands, reddish brown paws spread out on the dried leaves. The wolf stood there, staring at me, and I could almost see the sly smile on his face now that we were about eye level. Well, it was there in his eyes. If he could laugh, I was sure he would.

  You jerk, I thought. I mostly just said it to mask my fear.

  Hey. I had to do what I had to do. No time to talk. Follow me. By the way, name's Russet.

  He bounded away for a second time.

  I stood there for a second, trying to hold down my panic, but it was no use. So I ran after Russet, trying to work it out, to leave it behind in that tiny clearing and not think about what was happening. Russet kept pace, letting me stay caught up, and we moved quickly through the forest, leaving Tate and Macon far behind. They'd freak if they woke and found me gone.

  I might not come back from this. I didn't even know what I was entering.

  The forest was so much brighter now. I could make out every plant around me, and everything seemed almost blue in the light. I made out the form of a big, snowy owl sitting in a tree above. It watched us with huge eyes as we ran underneath it. I was glad when we passed. The thing was creepy.

  We ran for a long time, but my legs refused to quit, and no burning took over my lungs. My busted rib no longer hurt. Russet kept running, leading the way deeper into the woods, and the trunks all got closer together as if trying to suffocate me. But I dodged in between them. The faster I did this, the faster I could return, sleep, and forget about this.

  And at last, the land sloped downward, and Russet slowed. We're almost there, he thought.

  I slowed, too, amazed at my lack of tiredness. The trees thinned just a bit, and the grass grew thinner as if feet had trampled this area many times over. The ground turned to dirt, and I realized we were on a trail, a narrow one with large paw prints on the edges. And human prints. They mixed as if they had been side by side for ages. It was a trail that werewolves often used.

  We went for what seemed like miles. The trail curved around a giant pile of animal bones. Antlers. Ribcages. The remains of deer and hares and maybe bigger prey. I smelled the faint scent of meat as we passed. My stomach rumbled.

  I would not think about food.

  Not here. Not now.

  We passed the bones, and I was glad to leave them behind. The world opened up, and the moonlight streamed down.

  There was a small village in the clearing below. The trail wound down to it, and Russet took it, leading the way. The houses stood wedged in between trees on the edges of the forest, arranged in a circle around a large fire pit. They had thatch roofs and were little more than huts, and all of them had open doorways. I could see inside one and made out a bed of straw. Another had only a pile of hay on the dirt floor. There were no farms here, no gardens.

  And standing in the clearing were about a dozen wolves.

  They watched us coming, and I stopped at the top of the trail. Russet must have heard me because he turned around.

  Red, come on. He was impatient.

  The whole pack continued to stare. There were no people here. Just wolves, all of them some shade of gray or brown or black.

  This isolated place was a werewolf settlement, far from civilization.

  I scanned all of them, but saw no sign of red eyes or raised hackles. Some were smaller than others, a couple hardly more than pups. All of them watched, waiting for me. It was the same pack I'd spotted earlier that day.

  Red, you can't run away from what you are.

  Russet sounded a lot more impatient now. The annoying humor was gone.

  Yes, I can.

  I turned away. I was freaking out. I wanted my life to stop turning over like a boat caught in a hurricane. I had to get back to Tate and Macon. I had to get back on the trail like Mary had warned me, or this would consume me. I'd become nothing more than a wild animal that Alric could exert his control over. Mary knew her stuff. I had every reason to believe her.

  But Russet's form appeared in front of me, and I stared at his fur. His black eyes were hard. Maybe even frightened.

  We have a mission tonight. You cannot continue until we complete it.

  I breathed out, hating the sound. It came out more like a snort.

  Red, what has your grandmother done to you all your life?

  Russet stared me in the eye. He dropped his ears a bit in what I guessed was an expression of sympathy or sadness.

  You know about my grandmother?

  Russet brushed past me and headed down towards the wolf village. Or den. Or settlement. I stood there for a moment, watching him go. I was free to leave. I didn't have to stay here.

  But instead of fleeing, I followed.

  Chapter Ten

  Russet and I reached the center of the village, and I tensed, unsure of what would happen next.

  I stood next to Russet. It could be the part where Alric came out and beckoned to me. I glanced back up the trail to the forest above but saw no one. He didn't appear to be hiding in any of the huts, and I sniffed but caught no scent of him on the wind. Alric wasn't here. He couldn't mask his smell, could he? My heart pounded, and I waited. It was all I could do.

  These wolves knew of my grandmother.

  That might be something.

  A single gray wolf stood and approached. I got the sense that this one might be the leader.

  Red. We feared we would never see you again.

  An old woman's voice echoed in my mind, and I forced myself not to back away as she closed the distance between us. But her voice was kind, and she stopped inches apart, then touched my nose with hers. I took it as a friendly gesture. This wolf was old. Turning white around the nozzle, even. She seemed to be the eldest in this pack. I wondered how she'd look in human form.


  Who are you?

  She backed away a bit. Your grandmother's sister. You may call me Gray.

  I was getting the hint that color names were the trend here. My name was Red. My grandmother's first name was Lavender. I couldn't imagine her here. As a wolf. With the name of Lavender. And least of all, eating meat.

  But she may have been here before. Must have been.

  You used to live with us, Gray thought. It was when you were just born. But your parents were caught by Alric and turned dark, and they wound up in King Henrik's court as he was gathering his forces at the time.

  Sickness welled up inside of me.

  I thought some curses. Some swear words.

  Alric has been hunting both regular wolves and werewolves for a long time, Gray continued. Your grandmother took you to the other world after your parents turned dark. She wanted to protect you from Henrik and Alric as she feared them finding you, too. Only last night, Alric discovered my brother and turned him dark. Russet and Ebony barely escaped. It has been a sad day here.

  The other wolves bowed their heads in grief. The sadness in the air weighed down like a million stones.

  The three wolves on the first night.

  It was them.

  You were searching for me, I thought.

  Gray straightened up. Her chest was silvery, shining in the moonlight. Yes. But we cannot talk more about this now. You must find your basket if you are to complete your story the way it should be.

  My basket?

  All this was over a simple basket?

  It contains something you will need. It is why Alric ordered it taken from you.

  I thought of the wine and the biscuits. The picnic basket was a big part of my story. But how would that save us? Then I remembered that it contained the knife of the witch, the one with the scary bone blade. Alric's mother's dagger.

  It was the dagger that could remove curses.

  Excitement bubbled up inside of me. Maybe I wasn't doomed to this life. The huntsman was supposed to cut Grandma and me out of the wolf at the end of the tale. Will that magic knife remove my curse?

  Russet snorted. I caught the laugh in it. I wanted to snap at him.

  But Gray was more patient. You are not cursed. There is nothing to remove. You were born this way, just like your parents and your grandparents before you.

  I wanted to protest, but I held my thoughts in so no one would hear. Nothing was private here. We had a mission. I had to get that basket back. That knife had to be good for something if Gray said so.

  And she sounded so much like my grandmother that I couldn't help but believe she was her sister. A less crazy version of her. What was I thinking? She was a wolf, at least until the moon went down.

  Gray faced a wolf on the side of her, the black one I'd seen three times now. Ebony will go with you, she said. So will Russet. You must recover your basket, but one of Alric's servants has taken it. Ebony knows where it may be. Alric has set up camp a couple of miles from here. He is not immune from needing sleep. But he may have lookouts. You will need to take care of them.

  I shook my head. I knew this was a horrible question, but I had to ask it. Why am I going if this is so dangerous?

  Gray remained patient. She had led here for a long time. Because this is your story. You must. It will fail if anyone goes in your place.

  I hung my head. These wolves had already risked themselves to find me and lost one of their members. I didn't have to be a jerk about this.

  It's okay, Gray said. She drew closer and touched her nose to mine again. You are scared. That is normal. You should be.

  We were going to be facing Alric.

  And whoever was working with him. His mother might still be there and they might be sleeping in shifts unlike Macon had promised Tate and me. Ebony drew up to my side so that I stood between her and Russet. In less than an hour, the two of them could be red-eyed beasts who cared about nothing other than tearing throats out.

  And so could I.

  We need to go, Russet thought.

  * * * * *

  So is that village, like, where I was born?

  The three of us ran along another trail, one that led even deeper into the forest. The woods got darker and darker as the trees grew thicker and blotted the moon from view. I wondered if getting back in the shadows would restore me to my human form, but no such luck.

  Yes, Ebony thought. She had the voice of a woman in her twenties. I'm sorry about your parents. They are likely in the underworld now. I've gotten word that all of Henrik's wolves were sucked down into it after a few people escaped from the castle. Getting them back to the light region would have cured them.

  The underworld? Fable had one?

  I have never been there. It is difficult to escape.

  Russet ran ahead, and Ebony and I followed. The trail became narrow, then wide again. It was a trail that animals often used. I caught a whiff of the steakhouse scent. The chicken smell and even something like smoked ham. My stomach rumbled, but I wasn't as hungry as I was before I went after the first deer.

  Grandma had taken me from the truth. I'd spent my life thinking my parents were just lazy jerks who had abandoned me.

  My grandmother didn't want to be a wolf, I thought.

  Russet slowed a bit and let us catch up. He panted. You're right. Some of us crave the lives of humans and leave the pack, but what's the fun in that?

  Well, no offense, but I don't want to be one, either.

  We stopped, and Russet looked at me. We all needed a rest, anyway. I estimated we'd already run a full mile. Ebony joined him in staring. I felt exposed.

  As soon as I get her back, I thought, I'm leaving and living a regular life. Could I do that, knowing all of this? Knowing that my parents were still here, trapped in some underworld?

  Russet took a step back. But this is the life of freedom. Your grandmother has only made you think this is bad.

  It isn't me. I don't want to kill things.

  We only kill to eat, Russet thought. It is the order of things. It is not evil. Dark wolves kill for fun.

  Ebony turned and pointed her nose down the trail. She wasn't listening. I smell him.

  I stiffened and breathed in, taking in the fresh night air.

  It was there. The smell of a damp, dark cave and it was coming from farther down the trail. Alric had settled down for the night--hopefully.

  We just had to get into his camp and take the basket.

  Russet bounded forward, but not as fast as he had before. We followed. The smell grew stronger the farther we got, and we moved through a small dark spot.

  Hurry, Ebony thought. We don't want to linger in this.

  The smells in the dark spot got danker. There was more rotting vegetation under our feet, and the land grew swampy, almost. Water squished under my feet. It was gross, and I bounded forward through thorns, desperate to get out of it. Branches from shrubs reached at me, clawing, but I ducked to dodge them. It felt like the dark spot was slowing us down.

  And I was getting hungrier. I wanted to snap at something.

  No.

  Russet flattened to the ground and crawled under the root of a gnarled, monstrous tree trunk. I followed, and Ebony came up behind us.

  This dark spot has grown since yesterday, Russet thought. I could feel the tension in his thoughts. The fear. We have to do this quickly.

  I straightened up and stood in a regular part of the forest again. The ground solidified under my feet, and I breathed in air free of rot. The urge to snap at something disappeared, and the earth sloped down again. There was a small clearing in the forest, one not as big as the one with the village, and a tent had been hitched up in the center. A fire pit still smoldered with embers and smoke curled towards the sky like some signal. A pair of leather boots stuck out of the tent.

  It was Alric. He was sleeping here, just a couple of miles from the werewolf village. He was way too close for comfort. He could walk into the place and make all the residents evil tomorrow if h
e wanted.

  This is bad, Ebony thought. Very, very bad. He could find us.

  I scanned the small camp. I saw no sign of my basket or the contents. No wine. I wondered if Alric had enjoyed it. If so, this was a good thing. He'd be knocked out.

  Ebony stood there next to me. He's asleep, she thought. He wasn't when I came through here earlier. But I saw him with your basket.

  He must have it in the tent, I thought. Alric wasn't going to make the same mistake Tate and I had by leaving it on the side of the road. I wondered how he'd gotten it when he hadn't been anywhere near us when I killed the deer.

  Somewhere, an owl hooted. It was a low, mournful sound. I searched the trees above and caught a glimpse of big yellow and black eyes. A dark brown owl. It was watching us, waiting for something smaller to step into the clearing, perhaps.

  The basket.

  I had to get it back, take it to the cave, and sleep before morning, or I'd be stuck this way until at least tomorrow night. That was if I even succeeded in rescuing my grandmother.

  I took the first steps down towards the tent. The boots sticking out didn't move. Alric had hung his robe on a nearby tree branch, and a small dark spot had formed around the trunk. The tree itself was dying, losing its leaves and turning into a skeleton guard. Alric and his mother were so full of dark magic they could create these dark spots. Maybe it was how the others had formed.

  Careful, Ebony thought. Alric is always full of tricks. And do not kill him. Killing any human will turn you dark.

  I wished she hadn't mentioned killing. I got so close that I could peek inside the tent. The smoke from the dying fire overwhelmed my senses and blocked out the sorcerer's cave smell, but the sharp, cold magic wrapped around me like it was trying to suffocate me. It prickled and poked at my skin, trying to cut. I hated the feeling and wanted out of here as fast as I could.

  Alric was lying down with a wool blanket over him. He was snoring and had a clean haircut as a businessman would. I'd expected a long beard and scraggly hair, but Alric had some sense of style, even here in Fable.

  And the basket sat there right next to his sleeping form.

  It was open as if he'd rummaged through it, but I caught a whiff of the bitter wine and the iron of the knife. My stuff was still inside. I crept into the tent, glad it had no noisy canvas floor. The wind blew and made the flaps billow in and out.