“You’re not wearing your skinny jeans,” I said. “I thought you loved those.”
His visor slammed down over his face. With one hand he pulled it back up, glancing over his shoulder. “If I could find a tailor to make me skinny jeans, I’d consider it. But the townsfolk are so afraid of me, as you’ll see …”
“How about we slow down,” Sam Grayle called out. I looked right: he was being pulled behind another horse, dragged along on the grass. “This suit is a favorite.”
“It’s out of place here, dwarf,” Edward said. “You’ll find no business suits around here. Not that you need them anymore.”
“Where are you taking us?” I asked. Sweat had begun to bead my forehead. The sun was hot and a distant part of me worried about sunburn. That’s the least of your worries right now, Alice. Focus! Let your fingers get a good feel for this rope. Figure out what kind of knot he used.
“We’re heading into town, where we’ll be greeted with fear,” Edward said. “The town has been claimed for The Golden Dragon, and its citizens will be expected to pledge their fealty by submitting to my blade. And then, when that is done, I will take the two of you back to my castle in the north.”
“I bet it’s gross and weird, just like your house.”
He grunted. “Fewer skeletons, I guess. But you’ll enjoy it well enough, so long as you don’t annoy me. I’ll have to give you up to Agnim eventually, but that doesn’t mean I can’t exact revenge for the last time we met.”
“Agnim!” I said. My throat went dry. So it was true. Agnim was here, somewhere. Which meant so was Seth.
“We’ll lock lips just like the good old days,” Edward said, “and then everything will be fine. Trust me, sweetie.”
“Oooh! I can’t believe I ever fell for you.”
“It was my dark, mysterious personality and piercing eyes,” Edward said, chuckling. “You human chicks were all the same.”
“Wow, I am really having an urge to kill you again.”
“Impossible, sweetie. You can’t kill me twice. Not in this place.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll let me go?” Sam asked.
Edward’s visor slammed down again. He pulled it up. “No, dear dwarf. Agnim will want to meet you. He has use for someone like you.”
I glanced over the horse’s big rump: the town was close now. We’d begun our slow decline into the valley after Edward tied us to the horses, but not before he leaned close and gave helpless me an awkward kiss, the metal of his helmet clonking painfully against my forehead. I could feel the bruise forming on my head. I could still taste his lips: bitter, like a sour apple.
Townsfolk. They were stepping out of their homes, watching us. Men and women, a couple kids. Two ponies hitched to a post glanced warily in our direction. A few red birds flew from one stone roof to the next. Each of the houses had thick timber beams and white stone walls—Tudor homes. Unlit lanterns hung from posts along the main road that bisected the town, and between those were the tall blossoming cherry trees.
The adults pushed the kids away from the road, disappearing into alleys and behind houses. The sound of crying reached my ears. Worried, terrified crying.
“They’ll try to hide,” said one of Edward’s knights, his face hidden behind the steel visor, his voice tinnish and deep with just a hint of a German accent.
“They’ll fail,” Edward said. His visor fell over his face again; this time, he left it in place. “We belong to the Golden Dragon. We can’t be stopped.” He drew his sword and kicked his stirrups against the horse’s torso. “Hold on, sweet Alice.”
The horse began to trot. I jogged to keep up, glancing over at Sam. He’d given up on trying to stand, letting the horse drag him painfully by the rope wrapped around his wrists. He kept a stoic face, glaring up at the sky. One of his glossy black shoes was missing. His right pant leg was smeared with a fresh horse apple.
And I took just a little pleasure in all of it, pushing aside any pity I might have had. Reminding myself that he was the reason I was here. He was the one who’d killed Seth.
Focus, Alice!
Briar’s nagging voice echoed in my head. I turned back to the horse’s butt, aware that I might suffer the same fate as Sam if I didn’t become a little more aware of my surroundings. OK. We’re almost in town. He’s going to … kill them, maybe? That’s what it sounded like. So he’ll have to get off his horse. He’ll be distracted. I need to start working on this knot around my wrists.
But it was too hard to focus on the knot and keep up with the horse. I nearly fell, stumbling and feeling the muscles in my legs strain as I awkwardly maintained balance. I let my fingers do the seeing for me instead, discerning where the rope slipped underneath itself, trying to visualize the knot while I stared right at the horse’s butt, its long tail swishing left and right.
Screams now. The horse slowed, its hooves crunching on the little pieces of gravel mixed in with the dirt road. We passed a house, its door shut; maroon drapes covered the windows.
Edward drew his sword. My eyes played tricks on me: it was as if a red shadow was clinging to the blade, refusing to let go, as if its glossy steel was reflecting a setting sun.
“You know the routine, boys,” Edward said, his voice bouncing out from between the little slits in the visor.
“You goin’ ta do yer speech?” the knight to his left asked. He had his visor up and was staring at Edward with … Hmmmmmm … definitely not reverence. Definitely not respect. Looks more like wariness to me.
“Of course I’ll do my speech,” Edward snapped. A few of the townsfolk—no more than a dozen—were standing in their doorways, watching. Husbands clutched their wives tightly. They were afraid. Afraid and unarmed. A wind picked up, shaking bright pink flowers from the cherry trees. They landed on the road and for a moment, the terror seemed to lift.
The horses stopped. To my right, Sam forced himself to his feet with a grunt, looking down at his dirtied pants and then at me. He raised an eyebrow.
“Right,” I murmured, examining the knots in the rope around my wrists. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. All that studying of knots and this one totally didn’t look familiar.
“People of Badenheim!” Edward called out. His voice bounced off the visor, jumbling the syllables.
“Raise tha visor,” said the knight to his left.
Edward raised his visor, then cleared his throat. “People of Badenheim! I hereby claim this town in the name of the Golden Dragon!” He held his sword up. “This blade has been cursed by Agnim himself. Agnim, leader of the Golden Dragon. Agnim, your new ruler and master. You will submit to my blade and then you will serve the Golden Dragon.”
I fumbled frantically with the knot. It was so tight, only two of my fingers could reach the spot where the rope looped under itself. Each finger was slowly numbing, the circulation cut off. What is this … what kind of knot …?
“You can fight if you like!” Edward continued, using the most booming, confident voice he could muster—not too intimidating, in all honesty. He always had a bit of a whiny voice. “We would love nothing more than to hunt you down one by one. I especially enjoy chasing after children, so by all means let the scamps make a run for the forest.”
“Why am I not surprised,” I hissed, glaring at his back a moment before returning to the knot. The knot … it’s not a knot at all … that’s it! Edward doesn’t know how to tie knots! It’s just a haphazard loop!
I twisted my wrists in opposite directions, feeling the rough rope tighten and rub against my skin. I twisted my wrists again, grimacing against the burning pain. The rope was loosening just a bit, enough for my nails to pluck the end out from its loop. The knot loosened.
Now all you need is the right moment.
“Now!” someone cried out. I looked up and saw the right moment appear from a second-story window. Two of them, in fact. And I recognized both.
“Seth!” I screamed, pulling free of the rope.
“Flick!” Sam c
alled out. “What the devil—”
More second-story windows opened. More townsfolk, each of them clutching a brick.
“In the name of the Golden Dragon,” Edward thundered, “I command you to come down here and succumb to my blade like good little townsfolk!”
The good little townsfolk had a better idea, and it happened to involve bricks and gravity. The red blocks began raining down on the soldiers, aimed squarely at Edward’s cohorts. The one to his left took off down the road, weaving his way around the dozen of people who’d just moments ago looked so terrified (and had now pulled their own bricks from beneath their tunics and dresses). They chased after him, launching their bricks at him. Each one bounced off his armor, but one hit him hard enough to knock him off the horse.
He landed on the ground and was immediately swarmed.
I felt a tug on the rope—Edward was maneuvering his horse nearer the center of the road. “Stop!” he shouted feverishly. “Agnim commands you!”
The rest of his cohorts kicked their horses. Sam Grayle fell forward, dragged along the dirt road as his captor barreled past the angry townsfolk ahead.
“Alice!” Seth shouted. “Catch!”
He bent down in the window; a second later, down came a sword, sharp end first, nearly impaling me. I jumped out of the way and the sword bounced on the road, landing next to my shoe.
“Sorry about that!” he called out.
Edward pointed his sword up at the window. “Seth!” he growled. “You’ll die for that. You’ll actually die.”
“Not while I’m here,” I said, looping the rope and tossing it over Edward’s shoulders. Before he could even glance down, I pulled with all my might. His right boot clung to the leather stirrup, but the rest of his body toppled over, twisting the saddle. He landed on the road helmet-first and the horse did the rest, jumping into a gallop toward the surging crowd of townsfolk who had successfully prevented the remaining knights from escaping and had managed to push them toward the center of the road. More townsfolk had emerged from behind the houses, wielding pitchforks and rakes with metal teeth. None of them looked too scared anymore.
The knights swung their swords at the townsfolk. Suddenly: a bright spark, as if one of the knights had been a weird robot full of wires and gizmos. Then another spark. And another. They were too far away to see well enough, but it was obvious a few bodies were lying in the road. One of those bodies was wearing black armor.
Edward pushed himself to his feet, tearing off his helmet. His hair stood up awkwardly on the sides of his head. It made him look like a little boy who’d just woken up.
A little monster is more like it. His skin was a hint of gray. Weird little brown, tarantula-like hairs poked out of his ears and covered his neck. His left eye widened, blackening into a coal.
I picked up the sword that Seth had thrown from the window. It was heavier than a saber, but its blade was about the same length. The hilt was wrapped in old, scratchy leather. The golden cross-guard that separated the blade from the hilt had two red rubies affixed to the ends, and the pommel at the bottom of the hilt had the same. It was just about the prettiest sword you could imagine, right down to the blue shadow that seemed to reflect in the steel.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” Edward said, pointing his sword at me and closing his stance, “and I don’t care. You’re not like us, Alice. You don’t belong here. And something tells me if I plunge this sword into your pretty little belly, you’re going to die.”
I rolled my eyes. “Understatement of year, emo boy.”
His face hardened. “En garde.”
“Bring it.”
He attacked, swinging high. I parried and stepped back, digging my toes into the gravel so my shoes wouldn’t slip. Behind Edward, the townsfolk were still struggling with the knights, and every few breaths another mysterious bright spark would flash. Someone had cut the rope tying Sam to his captor’s horse and he’d managed to crawl away from the scuffle, fumbling with the knot around his wrists.
Edward attacked again, thrusting his sword at my chest. I parried, pushing his blade away from his body and counter-attacking with a quick slice. The sharp end of my blade cut across his steel chest plate, leaving a fresh scratch.
He laughed. Not an amused laugh—a big, fat, haughty I’m-smarter-than-you laugh. “I seem to recall winning our last swordfight, too.”
“I seem to recall dropping a statue on your fat face.” I swung my sword high to deflect his next attack and counter-riposted, aiming for his arm. My blade sliced through his leather wrist guard.
Edward’s dark eyebrows knitted together. He lunged, swinging with an animal-like ferocity, first high, then low, then aiming even lower for my legs. I parried twice, stepping back to keep his blade from bumping into my knees—a totally illegal fencing move when you’ve got sabers, by the way. But this wasn’t saber fencing. This was no-rules sword fighting, and if I didn’t score a killing blow soon, my luck was going to run out.
“You can’t beat me, Alice,” he snarled, thrusting again. I beat-parried, taking another shot at his chest plate. My blade bounced off the steel again. He swung low and I side-stepped, giving myself an extra half-second to bring my blade back around and meet his. I felt the numbing tingle in my fingers as the force of the strike reverberated down the hilt. My sword bounced back.
So did Edward’s.
And I knew exactly what to do next.
I spun the sword around, bringing it up and striking the base of Edward’s blade. His sword was flung from his numb hand, flipping madly through the air. He turned right, giving me just the opening I needed. I thrust my sword at his ribs, slipping it underneath his steel chest plate.
“What—” he turned back to me, grabbing my arms. But my sword was already underneath his chest plate, the tip poking out the other end, the sharp edge of the blade no doubt scratching against his undershirt. I pushed, using my bodyweight to knock him off-balance. He fell to the ground and I landed on him, pinning his legs under my knees. I grabbed the end of the sword and pulled as hard as I could, snapping the chest plate’s leather straps and pulling it away, revealing his very sweaty black cotton undershirt, sliced just a bit by the edge of my blade.
I stood up, breathing hard, keeping the tip of my sword aimed at his heart. He looked up at me with wide eyes. For a moment, just a moment, I saw the Edward that I’d so easily fallen for. “Please,” he whispered. “Alice. This place is different. I’m not the monster you think I am. I’m a normal person here.”
I faltered. Just for a moment, though. Because whatever Edward was here in this place, his gentle face couldn’t hold for more than a few seconds before it was replaced once again with his menacing glare, both eyes black as coals now and bulging like fat, watery grapes. He reached out for me. I stabbed him in the chest.
The blade stopped as if it had struck stone. And then: blinding brightness, a popping noise, and an invisible force that threw me back.
I landed hard on the ground. And then the lights went out.
Chapter 3
The blackness seemed to engulf me for a moment, and then just as quickly it was gone. No hero’s dreams filled with weird Corrupted. No regular dreams, either. Just blackness, replaced with Seth’s face. Seth, looking down at me with a furrowed brow and pursed, thin lips.
And angry little Flick, looking equally concerned.
“Gah!” My fingers clutched soft linen sheets. I kicked wildly, pushing myself away from the dwarf and bumping my head against the wooden headboard of the bed.
A bed. A house. A familiar smell: pancakes and maple syrup.
“Easy,” Seth said, holding his open hands out. “You got knocked out. You’re safe now. Well, safe-ish. This place is crazy. Crazy-crazy, really.”
“Indeed.” Flick stood beside the bed to my left, watching me with an intense gaze. His beard was long and pointed at the tip, dark brown like the shaggy hair on his head. He was wearing brown suspenders and a white shirt with long sleeves. Both
sleeves were dirty, just like his stubby fingers.
“What’s he doing here?” I asked. For the life of me, I couldn’t will my fingers to let go of the white bed sheet, as if clutching it was the only thing keeping me from floating away from this crazy world. Where’s my sword? Where’s my pen? Where am I?!
Seth looked nonchalantly at Flick. As if Flick hadn’t tried killing us. As if he hadn’t been an angry dwarf hellbent on controlling everyone with his bizarre cell phone game. As if he shouldn’t be dead and gone. “Flick makes the pancakes.”
“I’m useful in other ways, too.” He nodded to the sword resting against the window beside the bed. “Helped forge that blade, you should know. Stood up well against your ex-boyfriend, minus a few nicks.”
“Where’s Sam?” I asked, searching the little room. It was a simple bedroom, with two windows on either side of the bed letting in two square beams of bright sunlight made visible by the dust in the air. To my left was a tall bookshelf filled with rusty-looking books and a nightstand and a simple dresser. On the far end of the room was a staircase built into the floor. Clothes were strewn all over the loose-fitting wooden planks keeping us from falling to the first floor. One of the clothes I recognized: a black t-shirt.
I turned back to Seth and finally realized what was so strange about him: his clothes. He was wearing a pair of tan trousers that were too tight, a black linen shirt with a v-shaped collar and long sleeves. And shoes. The same pair of red tennis shoes that Seth had owned since the beginning of high school.
“Seth, you look positively ridiculous.”
He looked down, then looked to Flick. Flick shrugged. “I think you look good enough, under the circumstances,” the dwarf said. “Not as handsome as me, but that’s hardly your fault. More your mother’s, really.”
“Shut it, angry dwarf.” I turned back to Seth. “What the heck is going on?”
“OK, just … let’s get this out of the way first. My clothes? They’re kinda stylish, under the circumstances. Everyone here is stuck in the nineteenth century or so, with a hint of medieval thrown in for good measure. So I couldn’t exactly pick up some new duds at the local Target when I got here.”
The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 4 Page 15
