Swans and Silence

by Holly Hook

  People here read stories about people like me.

  I grabbed a chair, opened the book, and began to read. Mica chose the apocalyptic one and dove into that. I got so immersed in the story and homesick that I sat there for what felt like hours, following the story about a girl chosen for a prince she didn't love.

  "Guys," Brie said.

  I looked up. She held her copy of the fairy tale book and motioned for me to stand.

  "I think I found your story," she told me.

  Brie turned the book towards me. Small, neat text took up the page, with a bold title on top.

  The Six Swans.

  Stilt moved closer to Brie. “That has to be it."

  My heart raced. We had a breakthrough.

  “The yarn is in this story,” Brie said, turning the page. “It’s all here. We figured out why you can’t talk. It was your stepmother who cursed your brothers. She married your father, the king."

  "Of the Swan Kingdom?" Mica asked, joining me. "No wonder the Queen there was so cruel. If I had known what she wanted to do to Ignacia's brothers, I would have slain her right there."

  I wanted to cry with the relief. The truth was out.

  Mica edged in to see the page. I tried to do the same, but his head was in the way. “So that’s why you needed the starwort,” he said to me.

  But then he turned another page while Brie held the book and his face fell.

  “I should have known,” he said, paling and seizing the book. “The murders. It’s all in here. I’m in here. I’m the king who finds her.” I tapped his shoulder to see, but Mica was immersed in the text. Horror came over his features. “Oh. I should have known. Oh, my God. They’re going to--"

  Something purple tickled the side of my vision.

  I turned.

  The magic yarn floated in the air, pointing at me like an accusing finger. It weaved back through the bookshelves and towards the front door.

  Terror exploded.

  I had forgotten all about the yarn and left it at the camp.

  Where my accusers could find it and ask where I was.

  I tugged on Mica’s arm harder. He turned his head and I pointed to the yarn.

  Mica froze and then grabbed my arm. “We need to go,” he said.

  Brie and Stilt dropped the books and ran through the aisles. Mica and I followed. I wanted to ask him what he’d read and how my story ended, but there was no room for that. Stilt waved us towards the front door. We followed the yarn and it continued to float, drawing the stares of all the patrons. The yarn hung in the front entrance and had managed to squeeze through the crack in the double doors. An employee was walking over to check it out.

  We burst into the night.

  “What’s going on?” Mica asked.

  The yarn stretched into the night, cutting a straight line towards the rest of the city.

  “Whoever’s using it will take forever to get here,” Stilt said. “We have time to move. Tie the yarn to something so it can’t roll back up. Then we go."

  “The book,” Brie said. “We need it to prove Ignacia’s innocence.”

  The book. It was my lifeline. My brothers' salvation. I ran back inside and weaved through the store. The yarn moved with me, always pointing at me like a narrow purple snake ready to strike. I swatted it away and took the book off the chair where Brie had dropped it. The shopkeeper wouldn’t care if I borrowed it. It was an emergency.

  I ran back through the inner doors.

  And a horrible beeping sound started.

  “Ignacia!” Brie said, coming through the outside door. “You can’t do that. Drop the book. I know the story. We need to go!”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t. I’d take whatever punishment they would mete out. A guy from behind the counter walked around it and came at me, badge swinging on his shirt.

  “Drop it!” Brie said.

  The villagers would never believe my story unless they had the proof.

  Mica leaned into the entryway while Stilt wrestled with the string, pulling it through the inner closed doors. “Ignacia—come on! Someone’s coming!”

  It was impossible.

  We had traveled hours. No one could be here yet.

  But outside, someone bolted across the parking lot at an incredible pace, taking huge, blurred steps.

  And they were following the yarn.

  Holding the book against my chest, I ran out through the door that Mica held open. Stilt tied the yarn to the door handle, but it was too late. I had taken too long in the shop.

  The blur slowed to a stop only feet away from us. The shop worker yelled something at me from inside the store, something about having to pay, but I ignored him.

  A blast of wind hit us and I went flying back against the shop door, which closed. I let out my breath and kept ahold of the book. The thing in front of us stopped and came into focus. It was something red and black.

  Annie.

  She was here, catching her breath. She still wore the same red dress with the black shawl I had last seen her in. She was pale and her dark hair shone with the light from the store. Annie clutched the red flower in one hand.

  And on her feet were a pair of very red and shiny boots.

  “You made a mistake,” Annie told me as the yarn rolled up next to her and thumped to the stone. “You left your yarn right by your bed when you fled the camp. Of course I had to take advantage of that. I told the villagers that I would bring you back in time for your punishment. Of course, I was in another form when I told them."

  “What?” Mica asked. He was pressed up to the door with me. On the other side, the shopkeeper pounded on it, demanding that I come back in and pay. “You were in the camp?”

  Annie twirled the flower. I wished I could tell Mica what it could do. She must have disguised herself as someone the villagers trusted. Someone I had spoken to. Annie had been with us the entire time.

  “Do you want to know how I did this?” she asked, glaring right at me. If her thoughts were fire, I would be burning alive. "It won’t matter to you soon, anyway. I’m glad I didn’t slit your throat back at your little safe house. My brother always says that sometimes, you can turn failures into opportunites. And that’s what I did here.”

  “Your brother?” Stilt asked.

  “You’ve probably heard of him,” Annie continued. “His name is Alric. Powerful wizard. Magic runs in my family, after all."

  Annie. Alric had a sister and she was it. They had the same mother, a scary old witch.

  She took a step closer. The four of us remained pressed against the door, unable to move. A deep chill filled the air and cut me down to the bone. Annie would be stupid to murder us in front of these people. Right?

  “Alric doesn’t want to free Fable,” Mica said. He put on a brave face. “He just wants to turn it dark and he won't want to share his power with you. I know what you're hoping for. Dark beings like you always want power."

  But Annie ignored him. "He promised that I would get to keep the Swan Kingdom if I helped to unravel your story," she told me. "Did you know that your father had to accept me as his bride to save himself? He got very, very lost on his hunting trip. My mother found him. She told him that if he ever wanted to get out of the forest, he would have to take me with him. It's about time I get what I deserve. I'll show my brother that I can be just as powerful as him."

  Annie was resentful. She wanted to compete with Alric and she'd do anything to rise to his level.

  I wanted to tell him how disgusting she was.

  “You don't have to be as bad as him,” Stilt said. “It never helps anyone. You can avoid your fate. You don't have to be this way. If you really want to get back at your brother, help us fight against him."

  Annie smiled. She seemed to calm down, but I knew better. The man inside the store cursed and tried to push the door open. He must think we were trying to hold him in or that we were playing some prank. The air remained as sharp and cold as ever.

  “I’ve read the story,�
� Annie said. “I took Mary’s book, after all. I know which one you speak of. I have other ways to avoid my fate in it. I'll survive this very well, thank you very much.”

  I shook my head. It didn’t make any sense. Annie hadn’t been there.

  But then she twirled the flower again.

  Or had she?

  As the female bandit?

  “After you ran from me and escaped down the river, girl,” she said, facing me, “I followed it. I came to the shed and wandered around the forest, trying to find your trail. I came across the camp late that night. I knew you would ask the yarn for shelter and go there sooner or later. Early that morning, I found two fugitives hiding there. I killed the woman, took her form and her memories, and enchanted the man to make him forget what he'd seen. I hung with him and he never knew the difference. Then, I insisted we return to the camp to hide for the night and sure enough, you had made your way there. It was the only food and shelter for miles. Thank you for leading me to another portal, girl. I knew you and your ball of yarn would do it. I knew you would try to go to your father for help."

  I wanted to demand him, to demand to know where he was and how he was doing. Annie paced back and forth, twirling the red flower. Another car came into the lot and left again as if Annie's presence were making the driver uneasy. No one was coming to help us.

  "You use that to change forms," Brie said. "And you're wearing seven league boots."

  "Very good," Annie said. She eyed the book. "They were a gift from my mother. I see you've been doing some reading."

  Brie gulped. "Your brother will turn against you eventually. He was against King Henrik. There's no reason he won't do the same to you. Help us fight him."

  Annie said nothing but looked down like she was thinking.

  "What did you do after you stole Mary's book?" Stilt asked.

  "Easy. Fire disposes of almost anything."

  I wanted to drop the book I held. Annie's fate was in it. If it was a good story, she would perish at the end or get some harsh punishment.

  But she claimed to have found a way around that.

  And worse, I'd led Annie right to Mica and Brie and Stilt.

  "You killed Mary," Brie shouted. "You stabbed her! She didn't do anything to you!" She was losing it. "You deserve to be hanged. It's you the village should execute!"

  The word execute rolled around in my head like thunder. If Annie took me back there, it was the end for me and my brothers. I had to stay alive for them.

  Annie held up one hand like she was feigning innocence. "I didn't stab Mary. Think before you place your blame. Someone else got to her before I could. I thought about it, as I was disguised as your annoying and insufferable huntsman ever since he was supposed to return from the forest with the king."

  Next to me, Mica shifted. "You were Macon the whole time?"

  "Here's the thing," she said, doing an accurate impression of him. She held up a finger. "I found him in the forest. It's not a good idea to go without a buddy. So I plucked a hair from his head, took his form, and made sure he got very lost in the woods. I'm sure he's still out there, trying to find his way home."

  "Then who stabbed Mary?" Brie asked.

  "It wasn't me," Annie said. "That, I promise. Now," She took a step closer. The cold force pushed us against the doors so hard I could barely breathe. "The four of you need to return to the village. And I'll take that." She nodded to the book.

  Another cold rush hit me and I let go. The book fell to the stone and Annie picked it up. I held down my shouts. That was my proof of innocence.

  I still hadn't gotten to see who the real killer was.

  “I hope you enjoy the ride back to the village,” she said. Even as she spoke, a strange sleepiness came over me. She was using some kind of magic. “The villagers have a special punishment set up for beloved Mary’s killer.”

  She was going to control us and take us back there.

  I tried to open my eyes all the way again, but dark hands of tiredness rose up, dragging me down into an underworld of sleep.

  I tried to look to Mica, but he slumped against the door, his eyes glazed and gone. Annie motioned for us to return to the car, which was parked across the lot, and my legs obeyed. The world blurred into a painting and my thoughts broke down. There was something about my brothers. Flowers. Shirts. I had to help them. I’d die to help them.

  The last I remembered was opening the door to the back of the car and sitting next to Mica, who leaned over and let his head rest on my shoulder.

  Chapter Eleven

  I came to with the clunking of the road under the car’s tires.

  Mica was asleep next to me. He had shifted. Stilt leaned against the window on the other side of him. Brie was in the front, driving with her hands clutching the wheel. She sat straight up like she was nervous.

  And then I saw Annie sitting in the front passenger seat, a terrifying dagger held up to Brie.

  It was the same one she’d pulled out from under my bed and the same one she had nearly killed me with. The same one she had nearly spilled Irving’s blood with, too. Annie stared Brie down with those scary black eyes as she continued to drive. Another car zoomed around us, lights on, and left us behind with a red glow. We were surrounded by people and no one knew we were in danger.

  And then Annie faced me.

  “Awake?” she asked. “That’s fine. We’ll arrive at the village in a couple hours’ time. Enjoy it. At sunrise, you’ll be awake for the very last time.”

  I opened my mouth to shout at her, but remembered.

  Silence. I had to maintain it.

  The first shirt of flowers lay on the floor over my feet. Even in my trance I had been careful not to crush them. Immanuel’s shirt still lay part finished over Mica's sword.

  “Go ahead,” Annie said. “Weave your shirts. You’ll find that it’s useless. I’ve found a way to stop your ending. The one you want, anyway. Your brothers aren’t going to save you from the flames.”

  I scooped up the shirt and set it on my lap, holding down tears. Mica snored. He couldn't help me now. Maybe I should have accepted his help after all and taken the risk of the magic not working. More of this would have been done.

  Why did I always have to sacrifice myself for everything? It was impossible. I couldn't save everyone. I couldn't even save myself.

  I shook Mica, but he was still out. I shuddered in the cold air of the car. Annie’s magic was sucking the life out of everything. I wondered what she had planned for him. None of us would make it out of here alive. Brie drove in silence and even Stilt was knocked out. His eyelids didn't even flutter. I wondered how I had woken. Perhaps Annie had a hard time controlling four people. Bernice had told me that even powerful witches and wizards had to focus to make their magic work.

  The flowers were in the compartment behind the seat, the one Brie said was a trunk. With all my might, I reached over and shoved Mica forward. Mica slumped in between the front two seats and Annie made a face at me, then motioned towards him with the knife. I pulled Mica back in panic.

  “Don’t make my trip any more harsh than it has to be,” Annie said, fixing those dark, soulless eyes on me. Yeah. She was Alric’s sister, all right. Evil must run in the family. I didn’t want to imagine what her children would be like. They’d be my half siblings and nothing like my brothers. I could never love Annie’s children the way I did them.

  Annie settled back into her place, taking the knife with her. She'd want Mica to watch me die. It was the only reason she was keeping him alive. I wondered what the king of the Sun Kingdom had said to her when they met before.

  Holding Mica the best I could with my hand behind his back, I opened the back compartment and pulled the sack of flowers out the best I could. Thankfully Mica had tied it shut and they all remained inside. I pulled a muscle in my shoulder pulling the sack down between me and Mica, but I ignored the pain, closed the compartment up, and let Mica fall back to the seat. He didn't wake. The air in the car remained shar
p. I hoped he would wake soon. Brie and I were alone here.

  The cold feeling wavered and Mica's eyelids fluttered, but then he was out again.

  Yes. Annie had to focus. I hoped it drained her by time we reached the camp.

  “Don’t try anything stupid,” Brie begged me. “Just work on those shirts and be good. We don’t want to make Annie upset.”

  There was something more in her words, but I didn’t know what it was.

  “Yes,” Annie said. “Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t want to see this young king’s blood get all over the inside of this car.”

  I moved over and leaned across Mica, glaring at Annie. She wouldn’t kill me now. She wanted to deliver me to the village and watch me suffer. It was there in her eyes, in her sly little smile. Suffering was another specialty in that family.

  “How noble,” she said. “Always throwing yourself in front of the carriage for others. I’m sad to say that it gets you nowhere.”

  I glared at her. Annie didn’t know love. She didn’t know what it was like to have another person’s life in her hands or that weight on her shoulders. At last, she turned away and kept the knife pointed at Brie, arm raised a bit and shaking. Fatigue was creeping in. Annie would have to maintain that for the rest of the drive. If her magic drained enough, she might not be able to put the Macon disguise on again.

  But I might be hoping for be too much.

  The shirts.

  I opened the bag as Mica muttered something about his mother in his sleep. He was troubled. He had every right to be. I grabbed a handful of flowers and held my hands up, trying to calm the shaking. This might be my last chance. Annie had the book and we had no way to prove our case to the villagers. I didn’t even know if my story was supposed to end happily or what would happen when the time came.

  So I went to work, putting all my focus into the shirt.

  Annie watched every once in a while, snickering to herself each time, but I ignored her. I wove the stems and blossoms into Immanuel’s shirt and set it down on top of Irving's. I had to keep my legs together to make room for everything and they soon began to cramp, but I kept going. I couldn’t afford to stop.