by Ken Brosky
He laughed. “So let me get this straight: you went outside …”
“For a jog.”
“For a jog. And then you got attacked by a Corrupted monster, and it was probably scary but you killed it with nothing but your magic pen thing. Then you went back into your room, saw a spider, freaked out and ran here.”
“OK. That makes everything sound ridiculous. First off, I didn’t ‘freak out.’ Second, I didn’t run here. I walked very fast.”
He was quiet for a moment. I glanced over my shoulder, curious. He’d laid out a piece of white gauze and was in the process of biting through a piece of medical tape.
“You need to use a couple strips of tape,” I said.
“I know.”
“Well, me too. I want to be a nurse someday.”
“I know.” He placed the gauze on my shoulder, laying the tape over the top and pressing down on my bare shoulder. My entire body tingled. This felt right. As weird as it sounded … sitting here with him felt so right. Corrupted monster scratches not withstanding. “You want to help people,” he said. “You think there are people who get the short end of the stick, and you like to make their lives just a little bit easier. You want to give comfort to people who are in pain.”
A warm feeling rushed through my body. “I told you all that?”
“Weeks ago, yeah. After you killed the dragons. All right, you’re good to go.” He zipped up the bag, tossing it onto the nightstand with expert precision. “Ready to fight another day.”
“That’s good.” I lay down on my back staring up at the ceiling. “Because I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this place.”
Chase sighed, lying next to me. He was looking at me but I didn’t want to look at him. I was ruining this moment, talking about my hero’s duties. Worrying him. Putting the fencing tournament at risk.
Right. As if we stand a chance anyway.
“Well?” I asked. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
He put an arm over my stomach. My hands reached out and grabbed for it before he could second-guess his decision. I closed my eyes, breathing deep. The pain in my ribs had turned into a dull ache. My shoulder was throbbing. It would hurt less if I wasn’t squeezing Chase’s arm, clutching it for dear life. But I wasn’t letting go. I couldn’t. This life … gawd, I needed this life.
“Please be safe,” he whispered, kissing me on my cheek.
I leaned over, holding him close. The pain in my ribs got worse; I didn’t care. I kissed him on the lips, then drifted to sleep.
Chapter 4
On the other side of the lake stood a fine illuminated castle, from which came the merry music of horns and trumpets. There they all landed, and went into the castle, and each prince danced with his princess; and the soldier, who was all the time invisible, danced with them too; and when any of the princesses had a cup of wine set by her, he drank it all up, so that when she put the cup to her mouth it was empty. At this, too, the youngest sister was terribly frightened, but the eldest always silenced her.[v]
Shadows. Dancing on an old brick wall lined with black water streaks and slimy mold. They were women’s silhouettes, I was sure of it—as the shadows twirled, their hair flew wildly and their dresses twirled, expanding the shadows. I forced my ghostly form to turn, taking everything in just as Briar had taught me.
I was in a castle. An old castle, by the looks of it. There were paintings on the walls and elaborately decorated brass lanterns, too, but all of them were faded and moldy. Only half of the brass lanterns held a flame, and each flame burned low, casting the big room in a dull orange glow pocketed with heavy shadows. The paintings I could see were of young princes, but their faces had become distorted by the water dripping over the canvas; they looked as if they were in the process of transforming into something monstrous.
As if the Corruption was taking them over.
The floor was made of wood that had begun rotting, and a few of the planks were warped and bulging like broken piano keys. Soft music played from somewhere in the shadows at the far end of the room—classical music, with gentle violins. I could hear heels tapping on the floor but in every direction, the dance floor was empty.
Still … the shadows.
They danced on the walls of the great room. I stepped back, scanning the empty room again. A massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling—no, wait! There wasn’t a ceiling at all. I looked up and a terrible realization crept over me.
The castle was in a cavern.
I see you trapped in a cavern …
The castle’s walls climbed up toward the ceiling, then simply stopped, as if the roof of the castle had long ago been sheared off. The chandelier hung from a heavy chain that disappeared between a handful of fat stalactites. Violent-looking stalagmites crept out of the corners where the floor met the wall, as if warning visitors to stay in the middle of the room.
One of the shadows passed across my face, as if something had moved in front of the torchlight along the wall to my right. I felt a cold feeling pass through my body.
“Someone is here,” came a velvety feminine voice.
“Lead us, sister!” came another. The shadows passed me all at once.
I turned and, finding my path blocked by a tall wooden door, forced my ghostly form to pass through it. I flew down a disorientating pitch-black hallway, letting my fingers follow the rough stone. At the end of the hallway was an opening and beyond that a massive cavern with tall stalactites above. Far ahead was a lake, reflecting the strange blue glow of …
Trees! Tall trees with veiny-looking trunks and long twisted limbs. Hanging from some of the limbs were little plum-shaped fruits, each one glowing a bright blue and illuminating the area near the lake.
I weaved around a smattering of stalagmites, glancing once over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being followed.
“Yeah, I’m perfectly safe in my dreams, Briar,” I muttered sarcastically.
I examined one of the low-hanging blue fruits more closely. Its skin was thin and translucent; I could see a little almond-shaped seed deep within. This wasn’t possible. Trees underground? Glowing fruits? This all had to be a creation of the Brothers Grimm. But from what story?
Something splashed into the lake.
I spun around. There was a shadow on the other end, crawling closer and sending ripples across the surface of the water. It was a boat with a man inside, drawing two heavy oars over the water, each stroke causing his colorful Hawaiian t-shirt to bunch up. The man had a satchel sitting beside him on the bench.
I weaved my way between the skeletal trees, stopping at the shore of the lake. Maybe I can warn him …
Giggling echoed through the cavern. I turned around and saw a woman’s shadow slip across the trunk of one of the trees.
“We will celebrate this night, sisters.”
“Doing what, I wonder?”
“Why, by dancing of course!”
“We will make him dance with us!”
“Yes, sister! He shall dance until his feet are worn to nubs!”
“Eesh,” I whispered, turning back to the boat. The man had his back to me, rowing and groaning, the sounds echoing above us between the incisor-shaped stalactites. “Hey!” I called out. My voice seemed to echo in the cavern, but the man continued rowing. “Stop!” I shouted. “There’s a bunch of crazy shadow-ladies on this side!”
The man began whistling a cheery tune. A totally-not-appropriate-for-inside-a-scary-cavern tune.
“Dummy!” I shouted. The front of the little boat slid up onto the gravelly shore. I reached out, willing my ghostly hands to grab the wet wood. I pushed with all my might, forcing the boat away from the shore.
“Woah there,” the man said, glancing over his shoulder. He was middle-aged, with a narrow face and a long nose. He scratched the thinning hair on his head, watching the boat drift a moment. “Weird.”
“Something is wrong!” came the bright, velvety voice I’d heard inside the castle.
“You’re always saying that, sister!” came another. The voices seemed to carry like wind, as if their owners were moving quickly from one side of the cave to the other.
“I tell you, someone is here with us!” said the bright voice.
The man resumed rowing, bringing the boat up against the shore again. I pushed the boat back again, harder this time. The man nearly fell over the bench, his arms flailing wildly and flipping the oars into the water. He cursed, reaching down and grabbing them before they could float away.
“Someone is here,” came the bright voice.
“No matter,” said her sister. “It’s too late for this one!”
Something cold brushed past me, causing my feet to lose their delicate grip on the rocky ground. My body floated over the glassy water. I gasped—a reflection! A woman. She wore a tattered blue dress, its frayed bottom flapping madly as her body flew toward the boat. I looked up. The man lurched suddenly, crying out with a “Woah!” before being dragged by the invisible force to the front of the boat. He clutched the edge of the boat, crying out, his voice echoing throughout the massive cavern. His fingers gave out and he was pulled over the water. In the reflection, I could see the woman carrying him, clutching him with long, twig-like fingers. Her skin was gray, old, flaking like dried mud. Her eyes were wide, reptilian, ghost white.
“Help!” the man called out. He was clutching the leather satchel in both arms, and as he was pulled between the trees it began to slip from his grasp. He clutched the strap and held it out, and the satchel caught on one of the branches, sending the tree’s only two bright blue plums falling, bouncing on the floor of the cave and rolling toward the lake, taking their light with them. The man fell, too, landing hard on the cave floor.
“Run back to the boat!” I told him. But he couldn’t hear me, and he started searching his satchel for something. A stick—no, a torch! He used a lighter to light the end that was wrapped in a white fabric. The flame spread quickly, pushing back the darkness. The man turned.
And we both screamed.
Another woman was standing over him, breathing heavily, her mouth creased back in a smile. Her snarled black hair hung over her pale shoulders. Her tattered pink dress was cut low, frayed near the bottom and stained by water and dust. She blinked away the bright flame as if she hadn’t seen light in decades—which she probably hadn’t.
The man swung his torch, forcing her back. “Back!” he shouted. “Back, siren!”
“Siren!” the woman said, scoffing. “Did you hear that, sister?”
Another woman stepped out of the shadows. The orange firelight radiated her pale skin. She was beautiful, with long curly red hair and a dark red dress with a low collar that was less damaged than her sister’s. The short, frilly sleeves revealed arms lined with blue veins. She was clutching one of the blue, glowing plums tightly in one of her massive hands, and as she squeezed it tighter the glowing blue juice trickled out between her long fingers.
“Who … who are you?” the man asked.
The red-haired woman brought the plum to her mouth, taking a bite, chewing with a smile on her face. She studied the man with her white almond-shaped eyes, then swallowed. A moment later, the blue veins on her arms began glowing.
“Who?!” the man asked, bringing the shaky torch closer to them. The women jumped back, hissing.
“Princesses,” I whispered.
“He’s not alone,” said the one with the glowing veins. Her voice was bright and velvety. Her eyes searched the forest … right in my direction. “There’s someone else here.”
Her black-haired sister laughed. “You’ll have to excuse Alessandra. She’s been paranoid ever since the prince snuck down here with his magic cloak.” She stalked closer, averting her gaze from the torch. “But you’re no prince, are you?”
“I … I …”
They grabbed him, whisking him back toward the half-castle. I flew through the forest, past the glowing blue trees and into the darkness, through the hallway, slipping through the castle’s rusted door just as haunting music began echoing in the massive cavern. The man was moving across the floor, sobbing. As he moved, I could see a ghostly blue vapor trail left behind, the only trace of the princess.
“Dance with us,” they whispered. “Until you can dance no more.”
“And then dance again,” said the one with the glowing veins, her bright voice sending a chill down my spine. “And again. And again. And then tell us who you brought with you.”
I woke with a start to the sound of Chase’s phone alarm, tearing away the covers and hurrying back to my room. Briar was curled up in my bed, snoring peacefully. I pulled off the covers and poked him in his furry belly. He woke up, looking around. “What is it? Where … where are we?”
“You’re in a bed in a castle owned by a creep,” I said. “And it’s time to wake up.”
“Right.” He yawned, rolling over and fluffing his pillow. My extra pillow. “Just a few more minutes.”
I poked him again.
“What now? Who?” He sat up. Some of the fur on the side of his head was sticking straight out.
“I dreamed of a castle underground,” I said. “And guess what? The Corrupted totally knew I was there.”
“Huh.” He licked his paw, then tried to flatten out the puffy fur. “Most strange.”
“Yeah, especially since you told me again and again that the Corrupted couldn’t see me in my dreams. That hasn’t exactly been the case, if you haven’t noticed.”
“I have noticed.” He stood up, stretching his back. “If it makes you feel better, I dreamt I found a fridge and there was nothing in it.”
“It doesn’t make me feel better, rabbit.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s peculiar. In my experience, the hero has always been safe in her dreams. You are, unfortunately, what’s known as an outlier. A peculiar exception. A … er, where are you going?”
“To shower,” I said, fumbling my way around the bed. Without any sunlight steaming in through windows, the only light in the room came from the little blue nightlight attached to one of the outlets beside the dresser. I didn’t like that one bit. “I have fencing practice today. And you have more exploring to do.”
We all met outside at 10:00 am, walking single-file through the prince’s garden and through the massive castle wall. Four cars were waiting for us in the gravel parking lot, each one attended by a bulky driver decked out in square sunglasses. I hesitated when I saw them, causing Seth to bump into me from behind.
“Good morning, all.”
I spun around, taking a quick balestra step back, my hand fumbling for the pen in my pocket. Prince Leo stepped through the open doorway of the castle wall, the bottom of his cane crunching on the gravel. His black overcoat flapped in the cold breeze.
His daughter followed close by his heels. Followed by the always-weird servant, Sorin.
“I shall accompany you into town today,” the prince announced. He smiled a forced smile. “I would very much like to see our Romanian team practice and extend my deepest apologies for hosting their opponents.”
“Well,” Mr. Whitmann rubbed his mustache, “I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same, Sir Prince.”
“I could stay here,” Seth offered, smiling weakly at Sanda. “I really don’t need to do any practicing, so …”
Mrs. Satrapi grabbed his collar before he could meander his way toward the prince’s daughter. “You and I are going into town for an entirely different reason.”
“What?”
“We are buying you some clothes.”
Seth’s face reddened. The fencing boys snickered.
“May I join you?” Sanda asked, stepping beside her adopted father. “I do so love the shops in the city.”
The prince turned, one thin black eyebrow raised. I expected a “no,” but instead he simply pursed his lips, watching her walk toward the rear car. The bottom of his cane ground into the gravel.
“File in!” Mr. Whitman
n called out. “Come on, all-stars! We got some slicin’ and dicin’ to do, and we don’t got many days left!”
“Alice,” Vontescue said. “If you would be so kind as to honor me with your presence? I have heard stories of your fencing and I see intriguing possibilities regarding your general celebrity.” He turned to Margaret and Rachel and bowed low. “I mean no offense. I only think about my American tourists and am wondering if perhaps there is an opportunity to enhance my reputation in the states.”
“Go ahead,” Margaret said. She put an arm around Rachel. “But this one’s pretty good, too.”
“Ah, then you shall accompany me on the ride home!” the prince said. “We will discuss sponsorships and posters and perhaps a clothing line!”
Rachel smiled. “That’s very nice of you, sir.”
He unbuttoned his jacket, reaching inside. I tensed, my hand finding my pocket.
“A gift,” he said, pulling out a Castle Vontescue t-shirt and handing it to Rachel. “Wear it after you are done fencing, perhaps, when the reporters are hounding you with questions about the tournament. They will ask about the castle and you will of course say Prince Leo Vontescue is a kind host, and also offers half-off all tours on Wednesdays.”
“I’ll, uh, be sure to do that,” Rachel said.
I followed the prince inside the lead car, giving the driver a wary look. At least all the Corrupted-in-disguise appeared to be on their best behavior.
I wasn’t surprised to see Sam Grayle already sitting inside, waiting for us.
“I thought I saw your trail,” I murmured, sliding all the way to the other side of the black leather seat. Grayle watched from the opposite seat, taking a sip from his glass of ice water and smacking his lips. He so loved seeing me uncomfortable.
“Do we all have a different trail?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yours zig-zags, like you’re favoring one leg.”
The glass stopped at his lips. He turned, watching the prince step inside and take a seat beside him. The driver shut the door, walking slowly around the car and getting into the driver’s seat. The car turned around in the parking lot and snaked its way around the outer wall of the castle. Sunlight streamed in through the tinted windows, giving Grayle’s skin just a hint of a glow.
