The Twisted Fairy Tale Box Set

by Holly Hook

  "Then they don't come to the underworld enough," Wesley said. He strode down the middle of the bookshelves and we followed. "There are a lot of treasures down here that the rest of Fable doesn't know about. Follow me!"

  Candice rolled her eyes again.

  "We'll stick it out just long enough to get the answer we need," I said.

  "Really," Brie said. "Just long enough to get the answer we need. If he breaks out into song, I'm leaving."

  I choked at the thought. "I know a spell to shut people up," I joked.

  "You might need to use it," she told me.

  Thankfully Wesley did not break into song. We walked for a long time and the shelves towered over our heads. The smell of mold and paper surrounded us and was almost overbearing at first, but then I got used to it and had to concentrate to detect it anymore. The library had no chandeliers, but the same ambient lighting that came from nowhere. There was magic at work in here, too.

  And I had never imagined there were so many books in Fable, period. Henrik of course had a library, one that he never used, and Alric had his own little collection of books on magic, but this dwarfed all of that.

  At last, after we walked for what felt like minutes, Wesley stopped in the middle of a clearing. It was the best I could describe it. In the middle of the clearing--which could fit a house, by the way--stood a table with a glass case.

  My heart leapt. Inside that case was a very, very old book with a leather cover.

  "Is that it?" Candice asked.

  "It is," Wesley said, resting one hand down on the glass.

  The book was so old that some pages were falling out of the leather binding and they were yellowish, almost brown. There was very faint gold leaf on it and I could make out the words Grimm, but nothing else.

  "So this is the original copy," I said.

  "Well, close," Wesley said. "I've heard rumors of an earlier copy than this, but in the other world, this was the first edition of the stories that became famous. Our story is inside. We know what's happened to our princesses and why we cannot get to them, but we do not know a way to get to them."

  Wesley hesitated with his hand on the glass.

  "We're not going to steal the book," I said. "We just want to look at it. There's only one story I need to see."

  "Which is?" Wesley asked.

  "The Glass Coffin," Ignacia said. "It's that one. We need to know the Old Language word for one thing, and then we'll show you how to find your princesses. We promise."

  Wesley went to open the case.

  "You promise?"

  "Yes," I said. "We promise."

  "You swear? We don't take lightly to broken promises around here."

  "We swear!" I shouted. "I just want to see one thing." I hated that I sounded like a jerk, but Wesley was getting on my nerves. All of our nerves, actually.

  Finally, Wesley opened the glass box. It reminded me too much of the glass coffin itself and I had to back away. Candice squeezed my hand and I hated the show of weakness. She knew my mother was shut away. She'd seen the image in that pond right along with me.

  The moldy smell got stronger as we all drew closer. The book lay there like it had been crushed and forgotten. It must be the oldest thing in this library. I reached out to touch it, but Wesley stopped me.

  "This needs great care," he said. "Handle it very carefully."

  I noticed the date on the cover. 1857.

  Candice noticed it at the same time. "This is over a hundred and fifty years old," she said. "This was written in the other world. I wonder how it got over here."

  "We can't let Alric get a hold of this," I said. "Or Annie, for that matter."

  I opened the cover and fell on the title page. The print was surprisingly dark and easy to read.

  And the title was written in the Old Language. Kinder und Hausmärchen.

  I ran my hand across it, trying to piece the words together. I didn't know all of the Old Language, maybe not even half of it, so it was slow going trying to figure out what it all meant.

  "So here it is," I said, rubbing my hand across the page again. "Every magic word in Fable we could ever need." It was a book of magic words, of the language that, if Alric was right, had once tied all of Fable together.

  Brie drew closer. She made a face like she knew something I didn't, like there was something obvious I was missing. Candice was doing the same thing. I suddenly felt stupid for taking two seconds to feel a sense of wonder.

  "What?" I asked. "What's so funny? This is the Old Language we have here. The answer to what Alric doesn't want anyone to know."

  "Um, Shorty?" Candice asked.

  "Yeah?"

  "That's German."

  Chapter Eight

  "So the Old Language is actually spoken in the other world?" I asked after a few minutes of Candice and Brie trying to explain it to me. "As an everyday language?"

  "Yes. By an entire country with more people than Fable will ever have," Brie told me with patience. "You were in the other world for a while, weren't you? I thought you would know. That Stilt would know, too."

  "My trips into the other world are always short," Stilt said. "I never stay there long to learn about everything. The place is very big, with a lot of people. How was I supposed to know that this was true? Elves don't use the Old Language, remember?"

  Brie seemed to forgive him. Wesley called Percival in, who had the wine. He set down a tray with a wine bottle and several gold-rimmed glasses, which seemed to contradict what Wesley had said about being careful around the book. Percival went to work trying to get the cork out, which looked like it was going to take him a while.

  "Shorty, did you know this language was taught at my school? The school that you went to with me?" Candice asked.

  I snapped my gaze to her. "You're kidding." Great. I had more reason to look and feel stupid.

  "Mrs. Lavine taught it during sixth hour. I never took it but you walked past her classroom every day."

  I let my forehead slap to my open palm while Wesley laughed. The answer had been right there in plain sight and easy to get to, but I had never realized it. It was no wonder Alric had chosen my classes when he sent me to the other world to find the frog prince.

  I struggled to remember the Old Language word for glass and paged through the table of contents until I found the right story. I gestured for Henry to hand me the other copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales, the ones written in the language I knew completely. He did and I opened it up beside the original copy, so I could have an idea of where to find the word. Percival went to work serving everyone the wine while I pored over the book, struggling to read the Old Language words, but many of them escaped me. I think I was reading the part where the young man who was supposed to rescue the princess from the coffin stopped at the magician's hut for the night when Percival set a glass of wine down on the table. So much for protecting either book.

  "Thanks," I said, taking a sip.

  "You know, Shorty, you could have signed up for Mrs. Lavine's class," Candice said.

  I wanted to hit myself already. "Please stop," I said. "I didn't know, okay?"

  "I was kidding."

  "I know you were." I had to smile at Candice. I wondered if Alric knew the truth about the other world. He had taken a risk, sending me there.

  I found the Old Language word for bull pretty quickly. Steir. It was easy to remember and I had heard Alric using it once or twice when he changed forms, so figured that was the right one. I stared at the word and memorized it, shutting it into my memory forever. I could do this all day. I ran my finger down the paragraph where the stag, a prince from the kingdom he imprisoned, appears, fights Alric in bull form, and kills him.

  And at last, I figured out the Old Language word for stag.

  "Hirsch," I muttered.

  The wand I still held flared with cold energy and I shook it out, dismissing the spell. I didn't need that turning someone into a deer. That would make the twelve princes standing around us really want to let us
go unharmed. I took another sip of the wine and Candice leaned on the table next to me.

  But that was it. The word we needed to make sure Alric's story ended the way it should.

  "Do you have the word you need?" Wesley asked me.

  "I do," I said. "Thanks. I really appreciate you letting us see this book. Keep it safe, so Alric or no one else who is dark ever finds it. It's even more dangerous and potent than the copy we have."

  I closed the book as gently as I could set it down where Wesley had been keeping it safe. I rolled the new word in my mind over and over until I was sure that I would never forget it. Once satisfied, I nodded at Wesley and blinked sleep out of my eyes. Wine made you tired. I had found that out when I blackmailed Ebert and Humphrey into letting me try some. Brie was sipping some, too, as well as Mica and Henry. It didn't hurt. We were under a lot of stress and this was taking some of it off.

  "It was entirely no problem," Wesley said. "My brothers and I are glad to entertain. Finish up your wine, and then we will work out our side of the promise."

  * * * * *

  "Shorty! Wake up!"

  I groaned as someone gave me a light kick in the side. I was lying on the floor and I opened my eyes to find Mica and Henry standing over me. Brie and Stilt were with them while Rae hung in the back, blinking sleep out of her eyes.

  "Huh?" I asked.

  "Get up," Mica repeated.

  I couldn't remember anything at first and my body felt heavy. Moving might be impossible. But then I forced myself to sit up and the library surrounded me. The book. The word we needed. Of course. In panic, I rolled it through my mind. Hirsch. I still could recall it. That was good.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "The wine," Mica said. "We got to be too trusting. My mother might have betrayed me and my father, but there is one lesson from her I take to heart. Never trust someone who seems too nice."

  I stood now, wobbling as the effects of the wine threatened to pull me into slumber again. I remembered nothing beyond Wesley saying something about a promise.

  "Why did we do that?" I asked.

  "We got what we came for," Henry said, "but those princes got what they wanted, too. Princesses. They took Ignacia and Candice with them."

  I snapped all the way awake. "We never told them they were princesses. How did they figure that out?"

  "I don't know," Mica said, shaking his head. "They were drinking the wine, too. Maybe the wine's magical and it only knocks out people who aren't princesses or it made them admit what they were. Who knows?"

  "Where did they take them?" I asked. Cold energy snapped through me. The dark magic within me was ready to be used.

  "Out of the library," Henry said. "Obviously."

  I searched around for the wand, but it was gone. I turned out my pockets. I swore. The princes had taken it. Of course. I didn't know if I could do magic without it. Alric could and Annie could, but they were super powerful.

  I might be, too, but I had never tested that.

  "Come on," Mica said, reaching for a sword that was no longer there. "Great. They weren't a stupid as I thought they were."

  He was right. We were the stupid ones, tasting that wine. The glasses all lay on the floor, scattered and tipped, some with wine still in them. We all must have lost consciousness quickly. "We've got to find them," I said, full of hate. "Those backstabbers. I'm sick of people like this." I thought of Candice and what might be happening to her right now. She'd already had one bad experience with a prince. She didn't need another, more horrifying one especially if it involved Prince Wesley.

  Brie snapped up our copy of the book. I eyed the one still in the glass case, the original. Rage burned through me and I lifted my fist and brought it down on the case as hard as I could. It shattered and I brushed away glass shards to find the book itself. I pulled it out and held it to my chest. It stayed together.

  "What are you doing?" Brie asked.

  "If these princes are against us, they might be with Annie or Alric," I said. "We can't leave this here. I won't let them rise to any more power than they already have."

  We ran back through the library towards the double doors, which were shut. I wanted to yell the Old Language word for open, but I held back as Henry and Mica pulled the doors open with great effort, moving them inch by inch.

  "They're enchanted," Henry puffed, looking at me.

  "I'm without the wand," I said.

  Stilt got in there and touched the doors and then they came open without effort. He didn't have to say anything to do it. We all burst down the stairwell and stood in the entrance hall. Nobody was here. I didn't know what to do. These princes were from a story but I had never had the chance to read them all.

  Brie thought. "I think these princes might have taken them out to the courtyard."

  "The courtyard?" I asked. "Don't princesses usually get shut in towers?"

  "You don't have to be a princess for that to happen," Rae said.

  Brie tapped her foot. "There's a story about an underground castle," she said. "Something about shoes that get danced to bits. Wait. Yes. The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces. That's the one! Twelve princesses sneak underground every night to dance with their princes in the courtyard!"

  My mind drew a more perverted picture. I burst out of the entrance hall, shoving the wooden doors open, and shouted, "Prince Wesley!"

  I was in the courtyard with the diamond trees, which continued to cry in silence.

  My relief was that it really was just dancing that was going on.

  My horror was that Candice was struggling to get out of the grip of Prince Wesley himself, who clutched both her arms as he twirled her in a circle. Bags hung under her eyes and she blinked at me as Wesley stopped. Next to him, Percival was dancing with Ignacia, who had her face screwed up in disgust, and the other ten princes were standing around in a circle as if waiting for their turn. Our stuff was under one of the trees.

  Percival forced Ignacia to dance a bit longer and then stopped, only then realizing that I was there.

  "Shorty," Candice breathed. She was tired. Wesley had been forcing her to dance for a long time.

  "Let her go," I yelled, cold energy coursing through me like liquid ice. The air grew sharp. I was about to do something I would regret forever. Everyone was about to see what I was but the only person who didn't care about that was in the arms of Prince Wesley.

  "Yes," Candice said. "Let me go. I told you that about forty times."

  "She's enjoying my company," Wesley said, not getting it.

  "That's my girlfriend," I said. The air got even sharper, but without the wand, I wasn't sure what to do. Even if I did a spell in my mind the others would find out.

  "Don't do anything stupid," Mica told me, fists clenched.

  He could tell something was up. I wanted to try out that new word on Wesley so bad, but I held back since Candice was right next to him and I couldn't be sure I wouldn't hit her. In one loss of control, I charged him and settled for an old fashioned punch across his face.

  He released Candice and Mica charged at Percival. A fight broke out next to me as he and the prince went down. Ignacia backed away as Wesley blinked, stunned that this had happened. I dropped the book as I got both fists up for another attack. He didn't know how the world was supposed to work after all, and didn't know the rules.

  His grin vanished and hate filled his eyes. I had seen that look in Alric's many times. I was ready for it. I clenched my fists harder and didn't wait for him to strike back. I hit him in the chest and he doubled back into one of the diamond trees, which made all of them click together.

  Behind him, a prince dropped Ignacia's yarn and ran to his aid. All ten of them followed as the shock wore off.

  "Shorty!" Candice shouted. "Come on!"

  The two of us backed up, splitting to go around another diamond tree. Stilt raised his fists and I could tell the elf was not ready for this. A wall of horrible gold and silver vests closed in as Mica and Percival continued to
fight on the ground. The yarn ball rolled on the ground behind them and Ignacia ran to retrieve it.

  And on the ground, under a tree, was my wand and Mica's sword.

  Candice and I split, letting one of the gilded princes run right into the diamond tree. Some of them fell off, showering him. I ran around the huge courtyard while two of the princes came at me, fists clenched. They had their thumbs inside their fingers. These guys had never punched someone before.

  "You!" a prince shouted. "You broke your promise."

  I stopped there as the first guy, a kid in silver, raised his fist and rammed it into my shoulder.

  The crack of his thumb followed and he swore, clutching his hand and staggering away. My shoulder stung and throbbed but I ignored it. The second prince, a much older one with a clean beard, hesitated like he didn't know what to think. Yeah. These guys had never fought before.

  "Are you some kind of dark wizard?" he asked, trying to make a show of sounding tough and failing.

  I resisted the urge to rub my shoulder and said nothing, which freaked the guy out more. I fake-charged him and he backed away.

  Candice.

  She was cornered by three of the princes, Wesley included. She stood against the wall while Wesley reached for her, that stupid grin still on his face.

  I had to do something, anything. I thought of the Old Language word for fall as hard as I could, staring at Wesley. A horrible cold coursed through me and Wesley's legs went out from under him. The prince went down on his butt and Candice used the opportunity to break free. She ran for me and I took her hand.

  Next to us, Mica stood, leaving Percival to leak blood from his nose on the ground. Ignacia appeared with the yarn and Brie handed Mica his sword.

  "You broke the promise," Wesley told me, struggling to stand up. "You broke it. You said you would only look at our book. We do not take kindly to that."

  "I don't take kindly to you treating my girlfriend like that," I said, "or any girl." I wanted to use the killing word so bad. It would allow us all to escape. But using on someone who wasn't Alric would make me like...make me like...