He kept jerking his arm, directing the tree to continue yanking out all of Old Mother Grim’s entrails. Anyone else would have died by now, but she clung stubbornly to life, shrieking in protest. Coughing on the bile burning her throat, Fate pressed her hands harder against her ears.
Finn turned, his face grim with self-hatred. “I’ve seen and done things, Fate, unspeakable things that can never be unseen or undone. The truth is, I’m just like her. I’m a monster who enjoys ripping other monsters apart. But I won’t stop there. I’ve acquired a ravenous appetite for dispensing punishment. And the time will come when it won’t matter who or what I torture and slaughter.”
He grew quiet for a moment. Fate could see tears glittering in his eyes, yet even as he turned away, his face turned to stone. “Take a good hard look. I’m a walking nightmare.”
She could hardly disagree as he yanked his fists apart to make the tree rip Old Mother Grim’s torso in half. The part still attached to the head continued its keening wail of pain and would not be silenced. Then Finn brought his fist down. The tree drove her head and shredded torso deep into the ground.
Merciful silence came at last, save for the howling wind and thundering sky.
A powerful gust of wind blasted past them, nearly knocking Fate out of the tree. She grabbed at a branch to keep from falling and it twisted beneath her grip. Letting go with a shudder, she found her balance. “No, this isn’t you,” she cried out. “It’s your connection to this evil oak that’s making the poison stronger. It’s turning you into something you’re not.”
“Oh don’t go blaming the tree, love,” he said. “That’s too easy.”
She shook her head. “I know you, Finn. I know you to the very core.”
A cruel smile warped his expression. “Aye, like the boy in your story?”
She was afraid to say anything.
“No more games now. You know I remember.” He nodded with an almost gleeful expression. “Your stories really did the trick. At first I figured I must’ve shared them with you when we first met. But you knew details I was forbidden to speak of outside the Order. Then it all came back to me. You made me up.” He stood still, watching her reaction carefully. “You know, I was never so miserable as the day I found out I was nothing more than a bunch of words on paper––that my entire life was a lie, a meaningless fantasy made up by a silly lass infatuated with an idea she called Finn McKeen.” His voice dipped to a soft murmur before ending in a low growl. “Aye, I really quite hated you for it…I loathed you.”
Fate froze, feeling like a deer shot in the heart by a hunter’s long-range rifle. The rancor in his voice poured acid into her veins.
A flash of lightning lit the malice in his eyes. “Surprised? Guess you would be, since you fashioned me to be the golden boy––the good friend, the constant companion, the strong protector.” He crossed the broad limbs between them with ease, stopping with his face only inches from hers. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her roughly against him. “The tender lover,” he whispered into her ear.
A sickening spasm of fear shuddered through Fate. She pushed to get away, but his arms were hard unyielding bands of steel.
His chest shook with mocking laughter. “But I’m thinking you like your lovers rough and forceful, being the closet thrill-seeker you are,” he said, his voice now a guttural snarl. “Isn’t that why you’ve been winding me up for so long?”
He radiated rage, scorching her with it. “Well here we are, you with your dream lover, and me eager to fill the role.”
With one arm clamped around her, he used the other to tear at the neck of her dress. The cotton chemise shredded like tissue under his violent tug. She grabbed the torn material, trying to hide her bare shoulders from his feral gaze.
“Don’t,” she pleaded, her voice but a shaky whisper as she clamped her eyes shut, a vulnerable act of pure terror. She felt paralyzed, her heart slamming in her chest. Vicious winds raked across her exposed skin, icing the tears streaming down her face. Every muscle within her tensed with fright, bracing for the unthinkable. But she remained untouched.
Was he toying with her? Cold sweat trickled down her back as she opened her eyes.
Finn was still standing in front of her, his body shaking, his head down. She hadn’t felt the release, but he’d let go of her. His arms were folded, or so she thought. A streak of lightning revealed the glint of metal in his hand, a dark sheen of blood covered his forearm.
“Finn, stop!” she cried.
His head jerked up, torturous pain had replaced the heartless black of his eyes. He kept cutting into his arm, struggling to speak, “Fate. Leave now. Before…it’s too late.”
She grabbed at his injured arm, slick with too much blood. “No, give me the knife!”
He pushed her away with his knife hand, his eyes threatening to shift to black again. “The pain…it’s the only thing stopping me,” he growled, returning the blade to his arm. Go! I don’t know how much longer I can resist!”
Fate choked on the tears coming hard and fast. Watching him cutting himself was unbearable. “We can fight this together!”
Shame etched deep lines in his paling face. “Do you have any idea what I was about to do?” An indescribable sorrow filled his eyes. “I’m done for. There’s no saving me. You have to let me go down with these monsters.”
The wind battered in from every side, whipping stinging strands of hair into her eyes. “No, I can’t.”
“You have no choice!” He paused for one endless moment, staring at her with red, grief-stricken eyes. Then he shoved her so hard, she went tumbling through the air.
Chapter 26
TIME SEEMED TO STAND STILL as Fate hurled past writhing branches. Thunder shook the heavens and blinding lightning ripped them open, striking the oak where Finn stood. Her shock was so great she never thought to use her power to fly. Flaring sky and dark earth spun across her vision before she slammed to the ground a good twenty yards away.
The impact hammered the air from her lungs. Struggling to breathe, she staggered to her feet. “Finn!” she cried out weakly. Hugging her sore ribs, she fought to gather her bearings.
The burning oak convulsed like some tentacled sea creature in the throes of death. She staggered forward, recoiling as another bolt of lightning struck the tree. The thick trunk split and a horrible peeling resounded through the night as half of it crashed to the ground in flames.
Where was Finn?
She ran as close to the blaze as she could. At last she found him, sprawled unconscious beneath the fallen part of the tree. Another bolt struck the oak’s standing half. A terrible cracking pierced the raging wind and fiery sparks showered down as the last of the tree toppled, blocking her way completely.
She flew up, skirting around the blistering heat. When she located a narrow opening, she dove in, crawling on hands and knees beneath a ceiling of flames. Finn was just within her reach when she heard a soft whimpering. It was the young boy who’d been snatched from her grasp in the oratory.
Guilt stung at her. She’d completely forgotten him. Sliding forward on her belly, she grabbed the boy’s leg. Startled into hysteria, he screamed, thrashed and thumped her on the nose. Cursing from the pain, Fate yanked him out and pulled him to safety. But when she moved to crawl back in, a portion of the tree had crumbled, setting the low-lying branches afire.
Finn lay helpless within the inferno. There was no way in.
She leaped into the air, circling frantically. “Finn, get up!” she screamed.
He didn’t move.
A loud rumbling came from deep within the earth. The ground split into a gaping maw ready to swallow the felled oak. She hovered above the incredible sight as the gnarled branches scrabbled across the dirt. Floating lower, she waited for them to sweep past Finn but the crumbling edges of the huge pit gave way beneath him.
She dove down, catching hold of his arm before he fell. Digging in her heels, she yelled, “Finn! Please, wake up, I’m not stron
g enough to hold you!”
The riven oak scraped by, dropping into the abyss, its flaming bulk vanishing into the shadowy depths.
Fate’s muscles burned from the strain, her grip weakening. Even when she used her full weight to pull on him, she couldn’t get more than his arm up over the edge. He suddenly slid farther down, his weight landing her on her knees. She tried not cry but the tears came and she wondered why the hell she hadn’t given herself super-human strength along with the power to fly.
Her hands slipped along his forearm to his wrist. Holding on with renewed intensity, a burst of adrenaline pumped through her, giving her just enough strength to haul his chest up over the brink.
“I got his other arm!” Gerdie yelled, wrenching on his cut forearm, her hands sliding ineffectually because of the blood gushing from his wound.
Spurred on by Gerdie’s show of support, Fate summoned the last of her energy. Yanking on his shirt, she pulled him back a few more feet until only his legs hung down. Heaving one last time, she lugged him fully away from the hole, then tumbled backward onto solid ground, utterly exhausted from the effort.
She was still catching her breath when the sky opened and dumped a torrent of rain. Drenched before she could even scramble to her feet, Fate took Finn by the legs and dragged him to the caravan as the softening earth caved in and buried the oak’s charred remains.
Once she had Finn inside, she laid him next to Sithias. He’d returned to human form, and his shoulder was bandaged. Fate could see he was sleeping peacefully. Gerdie had done well––not just once, but twice.
“I’ll take us back to Shytuckle,” Gerdie offered.
Too spent to speak, Fate nodded, collapsing in a chair as Gerdie closed the door of the caravan to go around to the driver’s seat.
Sitting up in alarm, Fate shouted out to her. “Gerdie! Stop the horses!” Jumping back into the rain, she scanned the dim landscape until she spotted a small pale form several yards away. The little boy she’d forgotten yet again was huddled near the chasm. She scooped him up and brought him inside.
After they made their way back to Shytuckle to return the boy to his grateful mother, there was little else to do. The time had come to move on, so they followed the road leading out of the village, and traveled alongside the river for a good ways––each girl silent within her own thoughts.
The rain had eased to a fine mist when they pulled the caravan to a halt. They were both cold and weary, but there would be no rest for Fate until she checked on Finn.
His face was pale and drawn, his breathing shallow. The inflamed cut he’d made along his left forearm was bleeding, though less than when he’d first sliced into it. Her mind recoiled from the painful memory. Never had she been so completely torn as in that moment––loving him body and soul, while at the same time being terrified of him. She knew the same was true for him. His self-inflicted wound was evidence of his struggle. A lesser man would’ve given in to the dark influence, and she loved him all the more for the strength he’d shown.
As she ran her fingers through his damp hair, they slid over a warm slippery spot near his temple. Alarmed, she drew back her hand.
More blood. Her palm was covered in it.
“Gerdie!” she called out.
The young girl rushed over. Her skillful hands parted Finn’s hair, revealing a gruesome gash slicing across half his skull, still bleeding and matted with coagulated blood.
Gerdie drew in a sharp breath. “No wonder he’s been out cold for so long.”
Fate’s knees quaked––not from the sight of blood, but from the paralyzing fear creeping through her. Seeing him this way, so human and frail despite his displays of extraordinary power and strength, brought home how close he’d come to dying out there. Which is exactly what he’d said he wanted.
She grabbed the bedpost for support.
The poison was working against him. Finn was losing the battle. Or had he already lost? She wouldn’t know until he woke. Would he be the menacing stranger again, or would he still be Finn? She prayed he could hold the darkness at bay long enough to face Mugloth in the last fable.
Gerdie went to work, calling for more boiled water, cloths and herbal concoctions. Grateful for something to do, Fate conjured the items as quickly as she ordered them.
An hour later, Finn’s head wound was cleaned, stitched and bandaged, as well as his arm.
“Thanks, Gerdie––for everything,” Fate said as she tucked the covers under his chin. Lingering, she traced her fingers over the square line of his jaw. Her gaze moved to his smooth brow, thick lashes and the gentle upward curve of his lips. It was hard to believe such cruelness had come from such an angelic face.
She caught Gerdie watching her with an expression that far surpassed her age. “You two are uncommonly close, strangely so. It ain’t just puppy love.”
Fate smiled faintly. “You have no idea just how strangely connected we are.” As tired as she was, she really needed to talk and decided to tell Gerdie everything. She barely knew the girl, yet she felt a certain closeness, like she would to a sister if she had one.
Sitting on the end of Finn’s bed with her knees brought up under her chin and wool dress tight around her legs, Gerdie listened intently. Fate sat down on Sithias’s bed and told her about meeting Finn at the bookstore, how she’d discovered he was one of her fictional characters after they’d entered the Book of Fables, as well as his poisoning and how it was changing him. She was too absorbed in the telling to notice the excitement building in Gerdie until the girl jumped to her feet.
“I knew you had it here as soon as I saw you doin’ the Words of Makin’. Can I see it? I gotta see it with my own eyes!”
“The book?” Fate asked.
Gerdie’s wispy mop bounced as she nodded her head.
Fate strode over to the curtains hiding the Book of Fables and drew them back.
Gerdie fell still. “I gave up hope of ever seein’ it again.” She grinned. “My ticket home’s finally here!”
Fate was stunned. “You’ve seen it before?”
Gerdie stared at the giant book’s worn wooden cover and intricate lock. “I curse the day I did. That book, plus my big sister Brune, are what got me stuck in this neverendin’ mess.”
Feeling the blood drain from her face, Fate grabbed a chair and sat down. “B-Brune Inkwell? Brune’s your sister? She put you in here? For how long?”
Gerdie looked at her with concern. “You okay?”
“She put you in the book? Did she do it with a spell?” Fate said, her pulse now roaring in her ears.
“No, nothin’ like that. It was Brune’s doin’ though. Oma caught her openin’ the book when she shouldn’t have. Brune was gonna read me one of the stories, but Oma tried to pull us both away. Brune bein’ as stubborn as she was, started readin’. And you know what happens when you read out loud from that book.” Gerdie’s face lit up. “It was real nice when we first got here. You wouldn’t ’ave recognized it. The fables were magical places like nothin’ I’d ever seen before––all sunny and beautiful, with happy people and happy stories.”
Her wistful smile faded. “Until we came along. And you know what I’m talkin’ about. Because of the book’s rules for gettin’ out, we had to turn each fable into a horrible endin’. Believe me, there’s nothin’ worse than havin’ to bring misery everywhere you go.”
Fate’s shock gave way to distrust. She narrowed her gaze on Gerdie, realizing the adult mannerisms she’d found so disturbing were because she’d been catching glimpses of an old soul inhabiting that little body. She didn’t know whether to feel sorry for her or creeped out. It certainly didn’t sit well with her that Gerdie had been party to whatever had to be done to bring about the horrifying endings Fate was now struggling to rectify.
Plus she was Brune’s sister.
“What’s wrong?” Gerdie asked, the woman in her voice now apparent in the child’s tone.
Fate stared back into those attentive eyes, searching for
a sinister presence. But all she could see was a caring one. The mistrust simmering below the surface fizzled out. Gerdie may not be what she appeared to be, but she certainly wasn’t evil in miniature either. Not after witnessing her rage against Old Mother Grim and everything she’d done for Sithias and Finn. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all,” Fate said. “So how long have you been here?”
Gerdie did some counting on her fingers, which only frustrated her. She gave up with a bemused shrug. “I couldn’t tell you, except to say I’m old, very old.”
“Spock old?” Fate grimaced. “Or Yoda old?”
“Sorry, don’t know those fellas or how old they are.”
Fate shook her head, sad for Gerdie. She really was deprived.
“Let’s just say I’m older than anyone has a right to in a body this young. And I’ve spent most of that time movin’ from village to village tryin’ to save as many young’uns as I could with protective charms whenever Old Mother Grim showed up. I suppose I could’ve left and gone further, maybe back to the snake queen’s kingdom, but I guess I had some silly notion that the day I left would be when Brune came back for me.”
Fate swallowed dryly, sad for the little girl who’d been left behind and forced to survive all alone. And to be trapped, not just in the book but also in a body that didn’t mature along with her. “I can’t believe she moved onto the other fables and left you in this hell!”
Resentment soured Gerdie’s young face. “When we first entered the book, we all knew what needed to be done to get out. We were okay with it at first––seein’ that we were only dabblin’ in the lives of storybook characters and all. But after a time everythin’ started feelin’ too real. When we got to this fable and there was nothin’ but simple people livin’ peaceful lives, Brune used her Words of Makin’ to bring Old Mother Grim out of some book she remembered readin’. It was too much for Oma and she tried to undo it. Nothin’ worked though. Once the monster was made, she took on a life of her own and dug her claws in deep.”
Fate didn’t doubt it, not after what had happened when she’d written the Green Man into existence.
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