Fate's Fables Boxed Set (Fables 1 - 8): One Girl's Journey Through 8 Unfortunate Fairy Tales

by T. Rae Mitchell

  This unexpected topic of conversation momentarily pulled Fate’s attention away from her pain. Lowering her gaze, she stared past Gerdie, listening with vague interest.

  “It’s like a big city closed in by a cage of turnin’ hoops. And there’s all these vaults inside. Thousands of ‘em. Each one holds powerful magic.” Gerdie fell quiet and waited.

  The buzzing of bees droned in the silence as Fate tried to make sense of what she was being told. She looked at the ancient six-year-old, questioning her with a frown.

  Gerdie leaned in, her eyes bright now that she had her attention. “Don’t you get it? There’s gotta be somethin’ in the Keep that’s powerful enough to put things right with Finn. And I can get you there.”

  Fate wrestled with her locked mind, wanting to know more, but afraid to allow the slightest grain of hope in. Any more disappointment would kill her. “How?” she asked.

  “We get ourselves out of this book and I take you back to my family’s bookstore. That’s where the door to the Keep is. Brune can get us in. She’s got the Key. And you can bet she’ll be there when we get back. If she sent you in for the Rod, she’ll be waitin’ for you to come springin’ out of the book with it.”

  Fate put her hand to her neck protectively, feeling for the Rod hidden behind Finn’s ribbon. The guilt she’d pushed down all those months ago rose to the surface, holding her back from explaining the blood and the mystery around how she’d gotten the Rod from O’Deldar.

  “Sithias told me about how you got that,” Gerdie said, seeing her reaction.

  That burned Fate. He promised to keep her secret.

  “Don’t blame him. I saw it when I was cleanin’ you up. I knew what it was. It’s got the same markings as the Orb.”

  Fate relaxed somewhat, relieved she didn’t have to worry about Gerdie taking it from her. She’d had every opportunity to do so and hadn’t. “You said your family had a bookstore?”

  “Yeah,” Gerdie said, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face before turning to a frown. “I only hope it’s still there. It’s been so long.”

  “Did the building it’s in used to be a granary?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I think we share the same family bookstore. It’s still there but it’s closed now, ever since my Gran died.”

  Gerdie stood up, an anxious look on her face. “Please tell me your Gran’s name wasn’t Berdie.”

  Fate frowned in confusion, puzzling over how Gerdie knew Gran’s name, and struck by the uncanny way their names rhymed. “She went by Berdie Biddle.”

  Tears sparkled in Gerdie’s eyes. “Berdie married Hank Biddle? But she hated that freckle-faced carrot top after he shoved her in a puddle and ruined her Easter dress.”

  “How do you know that story? Gran used to tell it a lot.”

  “Because––” she said, her voice cracking and her little hands wringing together. “Berdie’s my twin sister.”

  Fate was stunned. Gran had never mentioned a twin, or any siblings for that matter. But this explained the immediate kinship she’d felt with Gerdie when they first met, the instinctual need to protect. She smiled, a faint wisp of a smile. “All this time, and we never made the connection.”

  Gerdie tried to smile, but she still looked upset. “Berdie’s really gone?”

  Fate nodded. “Seven years now.”

  Her face crumpled with grief. “That means Mama’s gone too.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gerdie.”

  “Guess I should’ve known there’d be no one left if I ever got back home.”

  It hurt to see Gerdie cry. Countless years of stifled sadness had broken that seemingly dauntless composure of hers. They’d both lost loved ones. In many ways Gerdie had lost so much more. She’d grown up completely alone––robbed of everything, thanks to Brune. It sickened Fate to know she was related to someone who could abandon her defenseless sister and later throw her niece into the same danger. They each had every reason to hate Brune.

  Reaching out, Fate drew Gerdie down to sit next to her, cradling the little girl who, as crazy as it sounded, was her great aunt. “You’re not alone. You’ve got family right here,” she assured the softly weeping girl.

  While Fate held her, she considered what Gerdie had told her about the Keep. Could there really be a way to save Finn? The wheels began to turn as she watched a caterpillar scale the stalk of a bluebell, its weight bending the thin stem back to the ground. The more she thought about what the Keep might hold, the more compelling the idea became.

  Sniffing, Gerdie wiped her nose with her sleeve and sat straight, her indomitable spirit back in place.

  “Do you really think there’s something in the Keep powerful enough to override Finn’s debt to the Green Man?” Fate asked.

  “I do,” Gerdie said, struggling to open the jar of cookies.

  Fate grabbed the lid and twisted.

  “There’s more magic in the Keep than there is in all the world,” Gerdie said, biting into a cookie. “Mmm. Sithias did a good job with these.”

  Fate’s stomach gurgled as irrepressible hope flooded through her, drowning out the deadness inside. “How will I get back to Oldwilde though?”

  “Oma said the Keep wasn’t just for storin’ magic. She said some of the vaults were doors to other places and times. There’s gotta be one that goes to Oldwilde.”

  Fate wanted to believe this was the solution to freeing Finn, but worried she might end up on some wild goose chase with no way back.

  A black and white warbler landed in a nearby bush, flicking its tail. As its dark eyes met hers, the bird’s coloring made her think of O’Deldar with his salt and pepper hair. When they’d first met, he’d given her the same hard stare while impressing upon her that there were other ways besides the Book of Fables to cross the divide between worlds. Could he have been referring to the Keep?

  “Okay, I’ll go,” she said. The moment the words were out, the warbler flew off. She half expected, or hoped the wind would stir and shake some acorns loose in defiance of her decision but the breeze remained unchanged.

  Gerdie let out a big sigh and smiled. “Good, but first we’re gonna have to shape you up with some color back in your face and meat on those bones.” She held out the cookie jar.

  “What, you don’t think this whole anemic, skin-and-bones thing is working for me?” Fate said, smiling as she took a cookie and nibbled off a piece of chocolate.

  Gerdie screwed up her face and shook her head.

  “Darn, and here I thought I was looking so fashionably undead.”

  •

  “I’m going away,” Fate said, her throat closing over the words. She leaned her forehead against the rough bark of the oak, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears. “I promise, I’ll be back for you, Finn. Just don’t give up on me. Okay?”

  A hush fell over the grove.

  She looked up into the massive umbrella of leaves, sensing the change in the air, as if all of nature suddenly held its breath. “Finn?” she whispered.

  Not a flutter of leaf, not a chirp of bird or buzz of insect. Only quiet.

  Fate listened with beating heart and ears pricked to a voice, silent to the outside world, but loud in her heart. We are tied together, always.

  Cool, brisk air blew against her lips, like the breeze of a hummingbird’s wings. Drawing in a tiny gasp, she put her fingers to her mouth, certain she’d been kissed––a kiss goodbye. She wanted to clutch at Finn’s presence, faint as it was, and never let go. But he was already slipping away. As normal sounds of the forest resumed, she felt the acute pain of his absence all over again. Why did love have to hurt so much?

  The tightening in her chest worsened with each step she took away from the oak. No matter how far her journey took her, there would always be this raw, open gash in her heart. But she had to focus on the road ahead because pushing forward was the only way back to him. And only then could she put an end to this gnawing pain. Biting back the tears, she willed herse
lf to leap into the air and flew back to the inn.

  •

  “Would you stop pacin’? You’re makin’ me dizzy,” Gerdie complained as Sithias slithered past her for the hundredth time. He’d returned to snake form, complete with his old suede hunter’s cap. Since they had to return to The Lonely Sorceress and give it a happy ending before they could return home, he wanted to make sure Elsina recognized him. “Why are you so nervous about goin’ back?”

  He stopped and looked at her. “How do I explain why I’ve been gone ssso very long and why I’m in the company of enemiesss? Elsssina’sss not to be trifled with. She may be unbearably beautiful, but she’sss made of ice, you know. I sssometimesss doubt there’sss a beating heart beneath that sssmooth ivory ssskin. She can be ssso cruel.” He heaved a big sigh. “I wonder what she’sss been doing while I’ve been away. Do you think she misssed me?”

  Fate walked in.

  Gerdie hopped off the table, relieved to see that her farewell to Finn hadn’t shattered her resolve to leave. They’d worked hard to build up her spirits and stamina, and she didn’t want to see her lapse back into depression. Plus she was anxious to finally face Brune, especially with Fate there to back her up. “All set to go?” she asked.

  Fate whipped aside her hooded cloak, revealing her sword and daggers strapped over her leather armor. “Ready as I’ll ever be after weeks of stuffing my face with Sithias’s gourmet meals. Could’ve done without those revolting tonics though. Sorry, Gerdie, but they really stink.” She threw Sithias a smile that didn’t quite conceal the lingering sadness in her eyes. “But you, my friend, will make someone an excellent wife someday.”

  “Oh, you really think ssso?” he asked, looking a little too hopeful.

  “You’re really holdin’ up fine?” Gerdie pressed as she scrutinized Fate.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  But Gerdie noted a flicker of doubt in her eyes before she looked away and strode over to the Book of Fables, its huge pages open to The Lonely Sorceress.

  Fate curled her arm and slapped a well-defined bicep. “Odds are good I could beat a four hundred pound gorilla in an arm wrestling match right now. Don’t know exactly how long this leftover super-strength will last, but I’m betting on a few more months before I need help opening a jar of mayo.”

  “That’sss good to know, misss,” Sithias said, his tone deliberately careful as he moved in next to her.

  Something inside Gerdie went cold as she joined them by the big book and glanced up at the snake, his wings shivering with fear. Or was that eagerness? Then she realized what was bothering her. There’d been a false note in his voice she’d never heard before. Alarmed, she tugged on Fate’s sleeve, but too late.

  Fate had already uttered the first word of The Lonely Sorceress. The inexorable pull into the fable snatched the words off the tip of her tongue as an explosion of letters suddenly swarmed off the page and swept them away.

  Chapter 35

  THE PLUNGE BACK into The Lonely Sorceress immersed Fate within Elsina’s all-consuming longing to love and be loved. The sorceress’s agonizing loss when she discovered Torrin was devoted to another, seared like salt poured into the open, weeping wound that was Fate’s heart. Elsina’s pain was the same as hers, regardless of circumstance.

  Fate’s sorrow increased as the story unfolded toward its new tragic end when Torrin flung himself off the cliffs. The sight of his broken body on the rocks––tossed carelessly by the heaving waves––left her even more heartbroken, the despair intensifying when Elsina’s wail of grief shuddered the island.

  Red flames brought the fable to an abrupt end, turning everything to ash.

  Her knees buckling, Fate dropped into cool sand. Another blast of red fiery light hit the Book of Fables, the flames glancing off its pages, vanishing in a puff of smoke. Hugging her waist, she choked back a sob.

  Gerdie yanked her down flat to the ground. “What’s going on?” Fate muttered, suddenly overcome by a wave of nausea from the jump. Disoriented by the darkness of night after leaving a sunny afternoon behind, she wiped her eyes dry of tears and glanced around. They were back in the cove. The only light was that of the moon reflecting over the black ocean.

  Sithias flew out in front of them, his wings flapping like crazy. “Mistressss! I’ve returned––with the magic book!”

  Shock cut through some of the fog in Fate’s head. Had she heard him right? “Sithias,” she said, keeping her voice low. “What are you doing?”

  Ignoring her, Sithias continued flapping in place. “I know how the book worksss. We can travel to other worldsss without ever leaving the island. You can do thisss without fear of losssing your powersss!”

  Unable to believe her ears, Fate grabbed him by the tail to stop him from whatever it was he thought he was doing. The muscles beneath his scales twisted in her hand, whipping free of her grasp.

  Confusion churned amongst the queasiness in her stomach.

  “I knew it, he’s turned against us,” Gerdie whispered, her frizzy hair smoking and singed down the middle.

  Further confused by Gerdie’s sudden shift in attitude, Fate rose to her feet, her movements sluggish from the nausea and throbbing in her temples. Or was it a nagging sense of betrayal causing the ache in her brain? She turned her fuzzy attention to the sorceress.

  “Have you lost your pea-sized brain?” Elsina said, her winged granite lion on one side and Hatho on the other. “You never left. The book closed and then opened. Now get out of the way!” She signaled the soldier hawk. “Lock them up. And send an ox back for the book.”

  When Sithias flew off and landed next to the sorceress, Fate’s skin erupted with a sweating panic. He really was a double-crossing snake! How could she have been so wrong about him?

  Shaking, she freed her sword. The hilt slid against her slick palm as she positioned herself in front of Gerdie, her focus on Hatho, who’d drawn his broadsword.

  In a blur of motion, he plunged his blade at her. As rusty as she felt wielding a sword after her long convalescence, muscle memory kicked in and she deflected the blow. The clash of blades vibrated up her arm and shoulder, nearly knocking her over. Regaining her footing, she blocked another swift attack, watching for an opening that never came. Hatho’s blade flew at her in precise, unrelenting strokes. She repelled each strike, but her reflexes weren’t as quick as they should be. She hadn’t completely recovered from the transition between fables.

  Desperate to gain the upper hand, she pulled a dagger from the strap at her thigh. With her sword hand, she curved her blade over his, driving it downward, then slashed the dagger above his gauntleted forearm, slicing through feather and hitting bone. As he staggered back a step, she expected him to drop his weapon. Instead he advanced, swinging his broadsword round in an arc before redirecting the blade’s angle into a vertical swipe that came down hard and fast. The impact of his heavy blade jolted the light rapier from her grasp.

  Disarmed and off balance, she stumbled backward as he lunged, shoving her further along. Tripping over Gerdie who was crouched in the sand, she fell over, the air knocking from her lungs. Suddenly he was on top of her, his hand clamped over her throat and lifting her up to his face. Angry golden eyes glinted from behind his silver helmet.

  Struggling for her next breath, she pounded on his arm, ramming her knee into his gut. Pain ground into her kneecap as it smashed against his armor. In return, Hatho delivered a roundhouse punch that met her stomach with the force of a speeding cannonball.

  He let her drop to the ground. Curling inward and unable to breathe, she glanced past the soldier hawk, locking eyes with Sithias. Why was he allowing this? Surely any moment now he would step in and help. She searched his amber eyes for the smallest signal they were still on the same team. But nothing even close to friendship registered in his gaze.

  “Sithias!” she yelled with a fury that burned her throat. “I’ll get you for––” A gag in her mouth staunched the threat.

  “Hatho,” the
sorceress said as she climbed onto the back of her scowling lion, “bring me the witch’s spell book.”

  The hawk finished tying Fate’s hands behind her back, then searched the satchel slung across her chest. “It’s not here, m’la––”

  Fate launched her boot straight into his helmet. Hatho stumbled sideways, but promptly regained his balance and cracked his iron fist into the side of her head.

  A fleeting fireworks display exploded inside her skull before everything went black.

  •

  “Fate,” a voice called from some far off place. “Wake up.”

  Opening her eyes, Fate stared at a blurry face hovering over her. She had to blink several times before Gerdie came into view. “Wha––what happened?” The moment she touched her aching temple, Hatho’s fist flashed in her mind. “Oh right, the gorilla hawk.”

  “That’s a good lump you’ve got there. That oddball hawk’s got some powerful arms.”

  “Thanks for the news flash,” she said, barely able to move her sore, stiff body.

  “I was beginnin’ to think you’d never wake up. You’ve been out all night.”

  Groaning from the head-to-toe body ache Hatho and the stone floor had given her, Fate propped herself up, frowning at the moss-stained walls, the flat straw bed she was lying on and the rusted iron door blocking her way to freedom. “Where are we?” she asked, momentarily distracted by bee-winged spiders weaving peculiar honeycomb-patterned webs over the ceiling.

  “Elsina’s dungeon.”

  “Huh, what a surprise. Typical dungeon motif with gothic touches of gloomy gray juxtaposed against yet more gloomy gray. Unless you count the freaky insects.” Her hair blew about as a brisk wind whipped up from behind. She shivered. “Kind of windy for being underground––now that I think of it––a lot brighter than it should be.”

  “That’s cuz we’re missin’ a whole wall,” Gerdie said.

  Fate glanced over her shoulder, squinting into the glare of a magnificent sunrise shining into the square opening of their cell. “Okay, that’s interesting. I wasn’t expecting a first-class ocean view.” From what she could see, their cell was nothing more than a ten-foot indentation carved into the cliff rock. Still woozy but encouraged by this discovery, she stood up and started to take a step when her leg hooked in something. “What the––?” Her ankle was bound in a rusty shackle chained to an iron ring driven into the stone floor. “Really? He told them I could fly?” Hurt and anger tangled in her chest. “Ooooh, I swear next time I see Sithias I’m going to tie him in knots and pluck out his wings, one rotten feather at a time. Turncoat. How could he do this to us after everything we’ve been through together?”