Thread and Spool

by Holly Hook

  The door splintered and I swung again.

  And again. I had to time my swings during the wolf howls. I was glad this place was noisy at night. If I had silence, I would never get away with this.

  The door split and a piece of wood flaked off. I had to work fast. Stilt’s and Sylvia’s lives were on the line here. If I failed, they would die.

  I swung again, arms cramping.

  The door cracked and I could see through a hole to the outside. I just had to make an opening. That was all.

  The wolves ramped it up.

  Again. I was making progress. I pulled some of the wood out of the way with my hands, earning myself a splinter. I ducked down and peeked out in the hall to make sure it was clear. It was. I wondered what Henrik did at this hour.

  Again. I went to work on the other side of the door, making the hole larger. A cat could crawl through this with no problem. I kept working, peeling away wooden splinters. It was a thick door. I wondered why Henrik hadn’t thought of me doing this.

  And why the hall was so empty if I’d gotten out of here before.

  At last, the hole was about two feet wide, enough to fit me. I tucked the ax back under the straw and pushed all three swords through to the other side. They landed on the floor with a clink. Golden swords might not do anything against iron ones, but they beat using our fists.

  And then I crawled through.

  Splinters stabbed at me and grabbed at my dress, tearing at the fibers. A rip sounded and ran down my skirt. I didn’t care. I had to get out. I breathed the first air of freedom. Sort of. I hadn’t realized how musty straw made the air. Now that I was out here, it was different. Cleaner, even though the dull sense of dread was still pulsing there under my stomach.

  I ignored it and climbed out.

  Stilt. And Sylvia. I tucked the swords under my arm best I could and held the ax in the other. I’d have to cut them out, too. I didn’t have the key. Henrik or Alric would have it.

  The hall was empty all the way to the cells. I raced down the spiral stairwell, jamming one of the swords against the wall on the way down. The handle jabbed into my side, making pain explode, but I sucked in a breath and kept going. The stairs ended and the cells lined up on either side of the hall. A single torch blazed.

  “Who’s there?” Sylvia asked.

  “Brie,” I told her. “Hold on. I’m going to cut you out of the cell.”

  “I’m in here, too,” Lavine said from inside the same cell. “So is the cook. Get us out. We have our last chance.”

  “Where’s Stilt?” I asked, dropping the swords and hating the loud noise they made.

  “Henrik took him. Then Alric brought him back and put him across the hall. I think they tortured him.”

  My heart constricted. I got on my toes and peeked into the cell across the hall.

  Stilt lay there, clothes bloody in places. The elf had his head on his shoulder like he was asleep. The shoulder of his shirt was in tatters. They had tortured him, all right. Why? I was already a prisoner here. Why torture him more? He’d taken enough whippings.

  “Stilt,” I said.

  He stirred.

  “Stilt,” I repeated.

  He lifted his head and saw me standing there. “Brie!” His eyes lit up, but they were even less like the Stilt I met back in the lighter region. They had darkened.

  “I’m going to break you out. All of you.” Then I thought of the cook standing in the other cell. It would be better if I got him out first, then have him break down Stilt’s door. I had no key. It would have to work that way. “Just hang on.”

  “Henrik whipped me again,” he muttered. He sounded like he was in a dream. Stilt closed his eyes and darkness crept over his features. “He wants me alive. But he tortured me.”

  “What did he ask for?” I asked.

  Stilt said nothing to that.

  “He didn’t ask for your true name, did he?” Did Henrik know that? He must not if he had no control over Stilt.

  Stilt shook his head. “I didn’t give it to him. I don’t want anyone guessing my true name.”

  I went to point out that I had guessed it already, but it wasn’t important right now. I had to get everyone out of here. “Back away from the door,” I told the others. “I’m going to swing.”

  “Get the lock,” Sylvia said. “That’ll be faster.”

  She backed away.

  I swung, timing my swings along with the wolves outside.

  It was even harder than the first door. The dungeon doors had been made thicker than the one I got trapped behind. But at last, a hole formed that was large enough for Sylvia to climb out.

  “Let me try,” she said.

  I handed her the ax, and my arms thanked her. While she worked, I kept a lookout at the bottom of the spiral stairs. It was all silence here tonight. Maybe Henrik had gone to bed early in anticipation of the wedding tomorrow.

  I wanted to hurl.

  I’d never let that happen. Not again. Not ever again.

  “Hurry,” Stilt said, louder now. He was at the window of his door. “I don’t have much longer. The dark region’s working on me faster than ever.”

  “We are,” Sylvia said. “We are. Just hang on.”

  I found it weird that he was standing now, but maybe elves healed faster than we did. I counted the ax hits on the door. One. Two. Three. Four. At last, the cook groaned and crawled out, followed by Lavine.

  We were free. I handed the ax to the cook and he took it, staring at it for a moment. "This is gold," he said. His huge arms bulged as he tightened his grip on it. "This is solid gold. Where did you get this?"

  Henrik must not have told everyone about my ability. Of course, he wouldn't if he wanted to keep me for himself. But Alric must know about it. I had to avoid the guy at all costs, even if we got away from Henrik.

  "I'll tell you later," I said. "Stilt. We need to get him out of there."

  The cook brandished the ax and swung at the door, splintering it in just a few hits. Stilt stood on the other side.

  He was different.

  This elf wasn't the Stilt I had known at all--except for those scary times in all my past lives, maybe. His eyes had gone from happy blue to storm gray, and his fingernails had lengthened, taking on the appearance of claws. Shadows took up his face and even his nose seemed a bit larger than it was before. Stilt was turning evil, and only the begging in his eyes convinced me that there was still a chance we could get him out of here before he reached a point of no return.

  "Thanks," he said. "We need to go."

  No one said anything for a long moment. The wolves howled outside. A raven cawed, even though it was the middle of the night. We still had all the animals to get through and these swords wouldn't give us much chance against them. There had to be another way.

  I couldn't entice the animals with my ability. They didn't care about the gold. Sylvia and Lavine and the cook sure couldn't, either--or could they?

  "Do you have any raw meat here?" I asked them.

  The cook stared at me and nodded. "We do. Lots. It's going bad without the knights here to eat it."

  "Someone else could eat it," I said, glancing in the direction of the noise. "That'll take care of one problem."

  We raced for the kitchen, Lavine leading us. The kitchen was on the ground floor, on one side of the plaza where the scary apple tree grew. There was an open archway leading right to the courtyard along with the guards' dining area. The birds had gone, at least. They must be out guarding the outside of the castle.

  I got an idea. "Could we mix the apples in with the meat?"

  The cook grinned at me. "Maybe. Pick some. Just don't take a bite."

  Stilt and I split from the others, who ran into the kitchen with swords in tow. Stilt still held one while I kept the ax. The apples hung low off the tree, with not a single one on the ground. They remained as scary red as ever, even in the pale moonlight. I plucked several off the tree and stuffed them in my dress pockets. I wondered how we we
re getting away with this. It seemed too easy. "We should keep a couple for ourselves," I said. "Just in case."

  Stilt faced me, eyes wide. "For what, Brie?"

  "In case we can't make it out. I'm not going to be Henrik's bride. I don't care what's way underground. If I can't get out of here, I'm taking a bite." The terror of what I'd have to do washed over me--but I would do it. I wasn't going to sacrifice all of Fable so that I could stay on the surface. There were almost certainly more horrible things underground and they might be worse than this, but if I died down there, I'd just get born again, right?

  "You can't!" The horror in Stilt's voice was obvious. "You might never come back up to the surface again. The elves down there are worse than me. They'll keep you as their slave forever."

  "Would you rather have Henrik rule all of Fable?"

  Stilt said nothing. The elf just twitched his lips and moved a bit closer to me. His energy was different now. Cold, just like everything else here in the dark region. I shuddered. He felt...possessive. He didn't want me to go. But why not offer to go with me?

  But Stilt finally grabbed an extra apple and shoved it in his pocket.

  We ran to the kitchen and found it quickly. The torches didn't burn, but I could spot Sylvia and the others cutting up the meat and setting the pieces on a giant platter. The room smelled bloody. I tossed them the apples. "We can mix these in," I said. "That way the wolves won't chase us after they're done eating." I still didn't know what to do about the ravens.

  Stilt opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. I was glad when he stood a little bit away from me. I had never felt that way about him before, except for the time I learned his real identity.

  "Get cutting," Lavine told me.

  She handed me a knife and I sliced the apples, careful not to spray myself in the face with the juice. We cut them into tiny pieces, tiny enough so the wolves wouldn't detect them. The cook wrapped the pieces up in the cuts of meat. Hopefully, the wolves would be so ravenous that they would snap up this treat. It was long work, with all of us except for Stilt lending a hand. He stood aside and watched, even though he seemed recovered. The dark region had worked on him, all right. The old Stilt would have helped. He'd be here beside me, cutting away.

  We heaped the meat on a huge platter and Lavine and the cook lifted it up. "Outside," the cook said. "The back gate leads right out. It's not locked, but Henrik doesn't need locks with the wolves there."

  We followed the two of them as they carried the meat through the corridors, leaving a bloody apple smell that threatened to make me sick. It was a long walk through torch-lit hallways and up over a flight of steps, but at last, I smelled night air again. We might make it. We might make it.

  The gate came into view. It was a metal wire gate covering the archway that led outside. The moon was bright tonight, and I caught a glimpse of a gray, furry creature stalking around next to another wolf. They watched us. Their eyes were red, all right. These weren't the regular wolves I'd spotted back in the lighter region. These were tear-your-throat-out wolves.

  "Get ready," the cook said, raising the platter. "Someone open the gate."

  "Are you crazy?" Stilt asked. He didn't like this plan. Neither did I. There was every chance that the wolves could decide to munch us instead. But we couldn't wait for Henrik and Alric to wake and find us.

  "I'll do it," I said.

  "You're not," Stilt told me. "Let Sylvia do it."

  "You're such a jerk now," I told Stilt. "I know you can't help it, but sheesh. You know what? Just be quiet until we can get you out of here."

  Stilt repeated nothing. Maybe I could still give him orders. Sylvia had already gone to the gates. I hated this new Stilt. Or this old Stilt. This elf was the original, I had to remind myself. The new one was the one I met in the other world. I wanted that one back.

  Sylvia opened the gates and a whole chorus of growls went up as soon as she did. Stilt grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I twisted out of his grasp, which left a cold indent on my skin. The warm, tingly magic was gone.

  And then he pushed in front of me and stood there.

  Even though he was shorter than me, I had to get on my toes to see what was going on. The cook and Lavine sidestepped forward into the night, platter over their heads, and then they dumped the meat on the ground. It landed in a pile with a disgusting wet thump and the wolves growled louder and leaped forward. They backed away and Sylvia closed the gate right before the first of them shoved its nozzle through the metal bars, fur on end and eyes redder than ever. They backed away further and I tensed. The wolves hadn't forgotten their duty after all. Henrik must have enchanted them to obey his will over anything else. They gathered on the other side of the gate, staring in at us. What if they didn't eat the meat? We'd never get out of here.

  The cook took his sword out of his belt.

  Swung down at the first wolf.

  A yelp rang out and blood squirted everywhere as the nozzle retracted. The creature ran off into the night, yelping the entire time.

  "Stop!" Stilt said. "What if the noise wakes Alric?"

  So much for Stilt following my commands. Maybe his change had freed him from it. But hadn't I ordered him to rip himself in half in our past lives when he was dark? This situation wasn't making any sense.

  "That wolf was a problem," the cook said. "And so are you. You haven't helped us one bit since we broke you out."

  No other wolves stuck their noses through the bars.

  They were eating.

  The pack tore at the meat on the ground as if they hadn't eaten in a week. Maybe Henrik never fed them. But chewing noises sounded as the meat pile became covered in gray, furry backs and swishing tails. They were hungry.

  And then the ground under them seemed to open up. The grass and dirt caved into a sinkhole and the wolves toppled down along with the meat, yelping once again. A few turned and tried to claw their way to safety, but whatever ground they touched caved in, too. They vanished into the dirt and the earth closed again, silencing their fading yelps. They were on their way down to join the knights.

  The world was silent except for the cawing of the birds. The injured wolf hadn't returned. It was the lucky one in all of this.

  And then the birds landed in the courtyard outside. Beyond them, the dark forest spread out, featureless in the dark. Once we got past the birds, we'd have that to contend with along with whatever horrors it contained.

  We couldn't just go out there and run for it. Our swords wouldn't do much good against them. We needed something to lead them away. Or we needed another way, period.

  "Now what?" Lavine asked.

  "We can't go out there," Sylvia said. "I won't go out there." Her face darkened with a memory. She couldn't deal with this.

  Stilt shifted. "I know another way. There's a secret tunnel that goes through Henrik's treasure trove and right out to the stables." He faced me. "I can show you the way."

  His eyes were dark. Menacing, almost. Stilt reached out for me and I backed away.

  Now he'd demand his price. He hadn't been able to help it the last two nights. There was no way he'd resist on this one. Our stories had caught up with us after all, just in a different way than usual.

  And now even knowing his real name couldn't help me. Something was very, very wrong here.

  I swallowed. "For what?"

  "I'll tell you the price when we get there," Stilt said. He only looked at me. Not Sylvia and not the servants. "Do you agree?"

  "I don't know. I have to know what the price even is."

  Stilt backed away as if hurt and then nodded. "Come on," the elf said. "We will discuss this a little later."

  Chapter Twelve

  The four of us followed Stilt farther into the castle. The elf led us down another flight of stairs that led through more dungeons, these even worse than the ones we'd passed. A skeleton arm hung out of one cell as if begging for a drink or a bite to eat. One door had been left open, and two skeletons lay there, inte
rtwined as if they were lovers who had died together.

  "Brie," Stilt said, weak.

  "What?" I stared at him, heart racing.

  "Nothing," he said, loud enough to make me jump. "Keep going. We're almost there. It's this way."

  We kept running. We passed no one living. I glanced in a couple more cells that were open but long abandoned. The tunnel went downwards again and ended in a solid wall that seemed ready to collapse.

  Stilt stepped forward. "I overheard Henrik and Alric talking about this when I was getting tortured," he said. "Alric had moved some of the loot from Semsi Mountain into here. It's also where they keep all the golden thread. This place is where Henrik's wealth has been gathering for a long time."

  "How do we get in?" I asked.

  "And can we take it away?" Sylvia added. "If we take the gold, we take his power."

  Stilt flinched. "I'm sure there's too much in here for us to make a dent in it," he said.

  Then he raised his hand and pressed in on some bricks. At last, one slid in, and there was a low groan.

  The wall was sliding back.

  Rock scraped against more rock. The wall ran along a track, heading into darkness.

  What if this was a trap?

  "You sure we should go in there?" the cook asked.

  "There's no other way to try," Stilt told him. He took my arm. Tight. The cold radiated into my skin, spreading and sucking the life out of it. This sensation wasn't the magic I even associated with Stilt. I couldn't believe he had been this way before.

  I wanted him back. This creature wasn't him.

  The wall stopped groaning forward, and we proceeded inside.

  The tunnel was dark at first, and I wanted to suggest going back and getting a torch, but then a faint light appeared in the distance and Stilt walked faster with me in tow. Sylvia and the others came up behind us. "Can you even see?" I asked. "We could be going right into trouble."

  "I can see," he said. His breath was hot on my ear, and he still held my arm. "We're almost there. You'll see the treasure."

  "I don't care about the treasure." The fish wasn't there anymore. Neither was anything else that could help us.