He sniffed and stroked his silvery goatee. “Yesss, well, I do have my momentsss.” He eyeballed her attire with displeasure. “Of courssse, you’ll need to change out of that malodorousss thing you’re wearing, and write up a caravan sssuitable for a doctor traveling with hisss delicate inssstrumentsss of ssscience.”
Offended by his rude remark about her beautiful gown, she looked down, shocked to see that it was nothing of the kind. The clock had struck midnight and her coach had turned back into a pumpkin. In this case her gown had returned to being the dingy shapeless garment it had always been beneath Moria’s illusion. Grossed out, she hastily unpinned her notepad and wrote up being freshly bathed and shampooed, her teeth brushed, and fully dressed in a suitable change of clothing. Within seconds of reading the description aloud, her skin tingled with a cool, clean sensation as her grimy shift transformed into a simple rose tunic dress over a white chemise cloaked beneath a hooded wool cape. And for a little added comfort, she put her feet back into a pair of Doc Martens.
Turning her attention to the Book of Fables standing upright on the bog and peat like a stone megalith, she conjured two horses and a sturdy caravan with the book resting within, as well as the good doctor’s delicate instruments of science.
“Now go talk to Finn,” Sithias encouraged. “Show him your sssupport and be the ssstrong young woman of character I know you to be.”
“Thanks, Sithias,” she said and headed over to Finn, who stood a fair distance from the forest’s edge.
As she drew near, a kind of sickly sigh wafted off the woods, not really a breeze or wind, but something like the foul breath of a dying gasp. The hairs rising on the back of her neck made her slow down. When she saw the oak, she stopped in her tracks. Dwarfing the surrounding trees, it looked very much like a weed in the garden, stubbornly rooted there with its thick bulbous trunk and sprawling limbs gobbling all the space around it. It was easy to imagine Old Mother Grim had planted the monstrous thing.
Finn was staring at the oak with a black look on his face.
“I brought you a change of clothes,” she said.
He gave the slightest start, as if deep in thought, before turning to her. He looked as worn and frayed around the edges as the tattered shirt his once gleaming brocade overcoat had become. Golden stubble shadowed his jaw and his bronzed blond locks fell in careless waves over his rune-marked temple. Fate’s heart fluttered out of control. His soul, though battered, was shining through, and the dark visitor was nowhere in sight.
He must’ve seen the recognition and acceptance in her eyes, because he pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry you had to see me that way,” he said, his voice thick with sorrow.
He held her too tight, his body trembling as his breathing came in ragged, uneven bursts. Hearing a faint sob, she didn’t know what to do. There was nothing she could say that would make this better, and he knew it.
His body went suddenly rigid and he let go of her.
Feeling cast adrift, she wobbled in place, startled by the sudden deadpan look in his eyes.
“I’ll help you with Old Mother Grim, but afterwards, I’ll be taking my leave and moving on alone.”
Icy pain seized her heart. “You’re just going to up and go?”
When he stared at her blank-faced, she couldn’t stop tears from filling her eyes. “Answer me.”
His features furrowed into determined lines. “It’s best for you if I do. I lost myself back in Asgar. The darkness took over. And the worst of it is I enjoyed the glorious rush of it all. I can’t trust myself anymore. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“You don’t think it would hurt me more if you just left?”
“You know what O’Deldar said.”
“Yes, but I also know you can’t do this without me. We have to follow this through to the eighth fable. Mugloth is the key to curing your poisoning.”
“I don’t know if I’ll last that long. I’m changing and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. And I can’t take the way you looked at me after Moria…so repulsed.”
“There’s a definite ick factor to seeing you seduce a woman into burning herself alive, but I’m dealing.”
She could see him studying her face, measuring her every move. At last a visible degree of relief passed through him. Smiling, he scooped her up in his arms and whirled her around in circles. “You have no idea how much courage you fill me with.” He set her down. “I was going abso-bloody-lutely mental when I thought I’d lost you––”
“Shhh,” she said. “Just kiss me.”
•
They arrived in Shytuckle an hour later. A few women who were out tending to their daily chores met them with closed, fearful expressions, while the men glared with open hostility. Within minutes, the villagers withdrew into their dwellings, doors and shutters slamming shut.
There appeared to be no tavern or inn to speak of, so they drew the horses to a halt in front of Shytuckle’s largest stone structure, standing sturdy and solid with a high peaked roofline and an arched entrance.
Finn jumped down, taking Fate by the waist. She slid down to the ground, pressed against him. “Stop that,” she said, feeling an uncontrollable thrill pass through her, “you’re driving me crazy.”
“Look who’s talking,” Finn said with a mischievous grin.
Sithias shot them a look of annoyance. “An ounce of decorum pleassse. You’re supposssed to be brother and sissster.” With a huff, he surveyed the deserted street and shut doors from his perch high in the driver’s seat. “Well, it appearsss asss though we won’t be getting any ussseful information from the villagersss. It would certainly be helpful if we knew how many visssits the grim old monster hasss made thusss far.”
“I saw a pigsty on the way in,” Fate offered. “If the waif’s there, she’d probably talk to us.”
Finn gauged the sun’s position behind the thickening clouds. “We need to get to it then. It looks like we’re only a few hours from sundown.”
Sithias moved to join them.
“You should stay,” Finn said. “Someone needs to be here if the villagers start getting nosy about us.”
Sithias threw up his arms. “Oh sure. Leave me all alone with the burn-you-at-the-ssstake-for-being-a-ssstranger-in-Shytuckle villagersss!”
“Just holler for help. I’m sure we can make it back before they singe a hair on your chinny-chin-chin,” Fate said with a chuckle.
Finn laughed at his horrified expression as he grabbed her hand.
She looked back at Sithias over her shoulder, throwing him a reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine.”
They reached the pigsty within a few minutes. It was nothing more than a lopsided hut looking ready to tip over in the slightest breeze. A wobbly fence surrounded three rotund pigs laying in the muck.
Finn stopped her from going further. “Allow me to be the gentleman and check to see if our wee waif is inside.”
“By all means.”
“Oh, you might want to have some food ready in case I need to bribe her out.”
She nodded, despite how wrong it felt to conjure food next to the rank odor wafting off the pigsty. Ten smelly minutes later, Finn emerged from the hut with the ragged child.
Seeing the wretched girl struck Fate with an instant pang of sympathy. She was so little, no more than six years old with filthy rags hanging from her tiny frame. Despite the layers of grime, her pale-brown hair remained a stubborn cloud of frizz framing impish features. For one so young, her brown downcast eyes were far too alert and vigilant.
“Fate, this is Gerdie,” Finn said. “She has much to tell us, but I thought we’d have lunch first.”
Fate said hello, but the girl had seen the basket of food. She stared at it like a hungry dog, licking her cracked lips, unable to tear her eyes away long enough to acknowledge Fate. They headed far from the pigsty and situated Gerdie downwind of them before settling on a grassy knoll amidst some grazing sheep. As soon as the sandwiches were out of the basket, her small hand darted out
to grab one. After gulping down two, she set another sandwich on top of her frayed bundle with a sheepish look.
“Thanks. That’s more food than I’ve had in years.” She burped and gave them both a lopsided grin.
Finn chuckled. “You’re welcome.” He looked at Fate. “It seems we came to the right person. Gerdie was telling me she’s seen Old Mother Grim before.”
The girl nodded. “A long time ago, when me, my big sister and grandmother first came here. I was real young then, only five or six.”
“You don’t look any older than that now,” Fate said, surprised by the grownup comment.
“Oh, right,” Gerdie said. “Time moves slow when you’re roamin’ from one place to another.”
Fate regarded the girl with a growing sense of sadness. She couldn’t imagine having to fend for herself at such a young, helpless age.
“Gerdie, you said Old Mother Grim’s been to the village twice already,” Finn said, his gaze turning to the distant hills, where thin shreds of mist were pooling into clouds of fog.
“And she’ll be comin’ back tonight as soon as the sun’s down and the fog’s thick as barley pottage mixed with carrots, potatoes and pigeon.” She smacked her lips together with a dreamy expression.
“We’ve got maybe two hours to prepare. You said your grandmother nearly destroyed Old Mother Grim, right?” he asked.
Gerdie nodded sadly, dropping her gaze to the grassy mound. “She gave the old monster a mighty wallop, enough to keep her lickin’ her wounds for a time, but in the end Old Mother Grim went on with her evil ways and Oma paid for it.”
“What do you mean?” Fate asked.
“Bein’ that Oma was a healer and a dabbler in the magic arts, the villagers of Woodknoll burned her at the stake thinkin’ she was the monster who took their children.”
Fate glanced at Finn. They both knew Gerdie would meet the same ugly end if they didn’t stop Old Mother Grim. “Sorry to hear that,” she said.
“It was a long time ago,” Gerdie muttered.
Fate stared at her; the poor little thing really had lost all perspective of time.
“You said you had your grandmother’s notes? Can we see them?” Finn asked.
She untied her bundle, revealing sticks with runes carved into them, several smooth rocks, a ragged-edged notebook and a withered carrot. She handed the notebook to Finn. “Everythin’ you’re lookin’ for is written in here. Hope you can read, cuz I can’t.”
Fate leaned close to him as he thumbed through the book. Every page was stained and filled with lengthy handwritten notes and sketches of plants, stones, peculiar symbols and various body parts with diagrams overlaying them. He closed the book and looked at her. “She had some Druidic knowledge, but there’s a strange mixture of other magic and healing arts here I don’t recognize. Are you sure we’ll be able to pull this off?”
Gerdie patted Finn’s hand like an adult comforting a child. “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, there’s no such thing as sure in this world. We’ll be lucky if we survive goin’ up against Old Mother Grim. But I don’t care anymore. There’s only one thing worse than dyin’ here and that’s livin’ here forever and ever.”
Chapter 24
SHYTUCKLE'S ENTIRE POPULATION was standing around the caravan when they returned. Sithias had his doctor’s bag out and was up in the driver’s seat next to an old man. The villagers watched while he examined the man’s open mouth then moved to the man’s nose, pulling back each nostril with a tongue depressor.
“Ah ha! I sssee the problem here,” Sithias said in an authoritative tone. “There ssseemsss to be far too much nossse hair growing in there. It’sss no wonder you can’t tassste your food. You can’t sssmell it, sssir. Trim it all back and you’ll be tasssting every delectable herb in your wife’sss pottage from the very firssst bite.”
The man’s face lit up like he’d experienced a miracle. When Sithias saw that ‘his children’ had returned, he dismissed his patient and held up his hand like he was giving a toast. “Everyone of Shytuckle, I’d like you all to meet my ssson and daughter––” He stopped mid-sentence as his gaze landed on the bedraggled waif standing next to them. “And uh––”
“Your next patient,” Fate called out.
She scooted Gerdie past the villagers and shuffled her off to the back of the caravan. Leaving her with Finn, she went inside first to conjure a wall of curtains to hide the Book of Fables, and then to prepare a hot bath. While the young girl splashed in the tub behind a privacy screen, Finn looked through her grandmother’s notebook. He was focused on a particular page when Sithias, radiating absolute annoyance, stepped inside the caravan.
“Would it have killed you to ssstop and sssay hello to thossse people?” he said. “It wasssn’t exactly easssy getting them to warm up to me. I’ll have you know I had to look into a few too many unsssightly orificesss to gain their trussst.”
“Sorry,” Fate said. “We’re in a hurry. The sun’s going down.”
He stamped his leg and flapped his long arms, a motion that resembled an angry stork. “Oh really, the sssun’sss going down? And to think I didn’t know that. Of courssse I did! And that’sss why I’ve got an invitation from the villagersss to join them in the oratory tonight. We’ve got front-row ssseatsss to the main event.” He glanced at the screen Gerdie was bathing behind. “And what’sss that urchin doing here?”
Fate stepped close, patting his arm and leading him over to have a look at Gerdie’s notebook. “Calm down, Sithias. You did well, but we’ve still got a lot more work to do before we can go locking ourselves up with the villagers. Thanks to Gerdie, we now know what to do.”
He looked doubtful.
Finn glanced up from the notebook. “There’s a spell here to bind the oak tree in its sleeping state. Apparently, it’s been grown to protect Old Mother Grim during the day while she sleeps. Usually the tree snoozes at night, but if it senses she’s in danger, it’ll wake up, and on the wrong side of the bed. We’ll need to use this spell to keep it napping while we trap its master.” He reached out and pulled Fate close. “I’ve got a shopping list for you, love.”
She sat down next to him on the bench, trying to put some space between them so she could think clearly, but he slid her closer, keeping his arm around her waist. His touch distracted her so much she hadn’t registered what she was writing until the last item.
“What’s the dove for?” she asked.
“We’ll be needin’ the blood of a dove,” Gerdie explained as she stepped out from behind the screen wearing the olive wool dress Fate had provided. With the grime scrubbed off her elfin features, they could now tell the difference between a few freckles spotting her nose and what had been specks of dirt. She blinked with confusion when she saw Finn cuddling with Fate. “I thought you were brother and sister.”
“Uh…” Fate said with a blank face.
Finn laughed. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag on that one. No, we’re far from being related.” He gave Fate a wolfish grin. “To my great pleasure.”
She blushed.
Gerdie shrugged. “Don’t matter to me.”
“Unlesss you’re tired of everyone elsssse having all the fun,” Sithias muttered.
Fate frowned at both Finn and Sithias. “About the dove?”
“No need to worry,” Gerdie assured, her child’s voice edged with a maternal tone. “We’ll only be needin’ a drop and nothin’ more.” Pushing up her sleeves, she sat down at the table. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead––two bindin’ spells to cast, charms to make, plus the talisman that’ll bring the elements crashin’ down on the old hag, if all goes right.”
They huddled around the table while Gerdie and Finn discussed the details of what needed to be accomplished within the next hour. Thanks to Fate’s instantaneous conjuring, they had two binding circles––one of stones and the other of braided rope of rowan, mistletoe and holly––placed around the oak’s perimeter, plus all the protective charms they would need to
keep themselves and the villagers from falling prey to Old Mother Grim’s sleeping potion. Surprisingly, Gerdie responded to Fate’s ability like it was about as common as dirt. She was obviously used to magic.
But there was one more item they needed, and no amount of writing could describe it accurately. “If I can write up all this other stuff, I should be able to do the same for the clay,” Fate argued.
Throughout their discussion, Finn’s mood had grown more serious and dismal. Only his eyes softened when he looked at her. “Have you ever been touched by evil? Do you really know what it is?”
“No, but I heard from a source I totally trust that evil likes to monologue a lot, and it tastes a little chalky.”
He didn’t look amused.
“Okay, I don’t know what evil is,” she mumbled.
“Then you can’t expect to know how to write about it. We have no other choice. The clay has to be taken from the ground near the oak’s roots.”
Fate’s eyes darted from one face to the other. “But what if Old Mother Grim’s still there when we arrive?”
Finn flipped back a few pages and read a passage from the notebook. “It says here, Old Mother Grim is as timely as the sun’s coming and going. As soon as the twilight hour has passed and the night is as black as ink, the creature crawls out from under the roots of her evil oak to begin prowling for innocent victims. Her body is heavy and sluggish, yet when she joins with the fog, it seems she glides swiftly upon the currents of its moist breath as easily as a canoe on a river.”
As Fate listened to the description her heart thudded with dread. “Oh, that’s reassuring. Wherever there’s fog, Ol’ Snaggletooth’s sailing through it like she’s on jet skis. I don’t like it.”
“There’s nothin’ to like about any of this,” Gerdie said, unnerving Fate with an unflappable gaze from where she peered up over the edge of the table.
Fate started to object but the girl’s mature tone and expression stopped her short, a trait she found unnerving. Apparently Gerdie’s well-honed survival skills had forced her to grow up faster than the average six-year-old.
Fate's Fables Boxed Set (Fables 1 - 8): One Girl's Journey Through 8 Unfortunate Fairy Tales Page 24
