by Cameron Jace
Amalie and I exchanged thoughts. We hadn't known that.
"There is only one ship that will take you," Cinder said. "You will work as servants who clean the floor of the ship and make food for the crew."
"What ship is that?" Amalie asked suspiciously.
"It's called a whaler," Cinder replied. "It hunts whales."
"Why would that ship take us on board?" I was curious to who would agree to take two doomed lovers like me and Angel.
"Because its captain is crazy," she said. "He is an insane man who is obsessed with the whales of the sea and fears no one, not even vampires." Cinder stopped to rethink. "But when I say he fears no one, he still fears…"
"Him." Amalie nodded. "We understand."
"What's the man's name?"
"Captain Ahab," Cinder said.
"Who is he?"
"Like I said, a hardheaded, whale-obsessed captain. He has always been, and has rarely lived on shore. No one knows the reason for his obsession with whales."
"I don't care," I said. "As long as he will help us cross the Seven Seas."
"Then there is one last thing you need to do before you sail." Cinder pulled a sack from behind the oven. It was tightly bonded and looked rigidly old, and was, of course, glazed with cinder. It was made from strong fabric, though, and so light I could carry it myself. "When you eventually reach the Tower of Tales, Lady Shallot needs to be paid," Cinder said. "Lady Shallot doesn't need money or food, as she has the power to create all she needs."
"How does Carmilla pay, then?" Amalie asked, and I began remembering the devil's words—that everything came with a price.
"By doing favors for the unfortunate," Cinder said. "Anything that helps lost souls in the world. That's how she gets paid. This sack holds something Lady Shallot has wanted all along." Cinder handed it over to me. "Guard it with you life, or you will not be granted a kingdom even if you reach the Tower of Tales."
I took the sack in and hugged it. It made me look naive. But, in Angel's absence, I was responsible for arranging our escape. "I suppose I shouldn't open it."
"I think you better not, although I have never been warned not to," Cinder said. "I haven't opened it myself since my mother gave it to me."
"Your mother?" Amalie said.
I knew what she was thinking. Unbeknownst to Cinder, this sack was almost six hundred years old.
Cinder nodded. "It's an important sack that meant the world to her. She said I wouldn't understand what's inside even if I opened it. She said this sack holds the Mystery of the World."
I swallowed hard I made enough sound to look foolish. But who was I to hold the Mystery of the World in my hands, even according to the strange girl called Cinder?
"Why me?" I asked. "I mean, this sack seems important—you might have given it to someone else asking for a new life."
Cinder picked up her blowpipe and started working again. "No one ever asks to cross the Seven Seas," she said. "But there is another reason why I gave you the sack."
"Which is?" both Amalie and I asked.
"My mother, Bianca, told me you would come," she said, surprising me.
"How did she know that?" I asked, eyes wide open. "Did she tell you my name?" I couldn't believe this was really happening to me. Every time I tried to escape the idea that I was special in this world, I was shown otherwise.
Cinder breathed in the pipe, feeding the fire for her Art, and then pulled back. She caught her breath and said, "My mother told me to give the sack to the girl born in Styria the day Blood Apples broke the seven-year curse."
25
Fable's Dreamworld
Fable's eyes flipped open.
Waking up in the Dreamworld held a certain dread. She found herself panting while lying on her back on the bed of a forest. The trees above her almost blocked the thin moonbeam and danced like thousands of snakes. Fable assumed this was the forest Shew had told her about, where she followed Cerené to Baba Yaga's house and where Loki hunted her down. Fable never thought it would scare her that much. After all, she was face to face with danger, not in the comfort of reading about it in a book she could close whenever she wanted to take a break.
She jumped to her feet, noticing she was dressed in some old tattered dress, sweating all over. So no more kickass jeans and boots? Why did the Dreamworld dress her like this? It wasn't like Fable was a somebody in all these tales. She was just a normal kid from the Waking World thrown here to help friends she'd made only three days ago.
Fable also found her grip still tight on the breadcrumbs Babushka had given her, apparently the only item that had managed to pass to the Dreamworld. She searched her ugly clothes for a pocket without a hole in it, then poured the breadcrumbs in.
Still panting and swearing—she didn't understand why—a feeling inside her told her not to look back. Something evil was there and she wasn't prepared to face it yet. Too many thoughts of fear drove her to run ahead, wishing to escape the forest. Her first step on the ground, she discovered she was barefoot. This Dreamory seemed not to like her at all.
Running, she wondered why the forest was so silent, except for the faint hissing of whatever she was running from. It was as if this dream had started in the middle of some event Fable didn't know about.
"Charmwill!" she yelled as she ran.
No one answered her. More trees curved and swirled around her. She wiped the sweat from her chest and saw her hand was smeared with blood. What the heck is this? Fable tried not to scream, but yelled again, "Wilhelm Carl Grimm!" Her hand reached her hair, and she found her pigtails were still there. At least the dream didn't change that. "I know your True Name. Please show me a sign that I'm on the right track."
Still no reply.
As she ran, one of the trees held out a shaking hand. Fable froze for a moment, then ran away, even faster, her bare feet hurting too much, and her poor eyesight not really helping in the dimmed forest—why didn't her glasses pass to the Dreamworld like the breadcrumbs? Dammit!
A faint light shone at the end of path, probably leading to somewhere out of the forest. She hurried toward it, thinking about how she would like to get her hands on some slippers before her feet started to bleed.
"Stop!" a girl's voice said, and a hand shone out of the dark.
"Who is talking to me?" Fable asked.
A girl, cloaked in black, smiled at her. She was standing a few feet away and holding a lantern. "I am—"
"Alice Grimm," Fable said. The description fit Shew's story about the last dream with Cerené.
"Yes, I am." Alice smiled. "Take this." She handed Fable slippers.
Fable took them reluctantly, not really comprehending the situation. "Why do you keep popping up in dreams?"
"I'm a descendant of Wilhelm," she said. "I'm the only one from the Waking World who can roam around in dreams as much as I am allowed to. Wilhelm showed me how. He was one of those who created it when he cursed the so-called fairy tale characters."
"Where is Charmwill, then?" Fable said. "I'm sorry, but I can't call him Wilhelm often. To me he will always be Charmwill Glimmer."
"After killing him, the Queen of Sorrow buried him in the Sands of Time. It will be really hard to get him out of it with the little time you have to accomplish your mission here," Alice said. "Let's say I can guide you the way he would have."
"How do you know about my mission?"
"We don't have time for such questions," Alice said. "You're hours away from the event that will grant you what you want."
"What event? I'm here to get Loki's Fleece."
"And you can only do it by witnessing a certain day in the Dreamworld."
"You mean the day when Loki and Shew fell in love?" Fable was only hoping, as she was curious to see that.
Alice shrugged, definitely hiding something. "Let's call it that for now: the day when the Huntsman and the Princess fell in love. In order to reach that moment, you have to make sure no one realizes you're from the Waking World."
"That go
es without saying," Fable said. "So tell me where I should go."
"It's not that easy," Alice said. "You're not listening. In a few moments you will meet the Lost Seven."
Fable's eyes widened. She certainly didn't expect that. "Really? All of them?"
"Well, the dream might not want to show all of them to you," Alice said. "But you will certainly talk to all of them."
"I don't understand."
"The Dreamworld has its own soul. It might not allow a Dreamhunter to see all the truth before certain events happen," Alice said. "Don't worry about it. You will understand when you meet the Lost Seven. What should worry you is that you have to act like you've known them since long ago."
"Why would I do that? I haven't met any of them, not even Cerené. Why would they even talk to me?"
"You're wrong, Fable." Alice held her by the arms. "You do know them, and they know you back."
"That's impossible."
"I can't explain more." Alice sighed. "Just trust me. I'm like Charmwill. I want the best for you and the Lost Seven. You will soon understand what I mean. I just want you to understand that exposing yourself, being from the Waking World, could have undesired consequences. Whatever happens, whenever someone refers to something in the past you don't know about, just agree and don't ask much. You're only here for a brief time to accomplish a mission."
Fable thought Alice's life in the Dreamworld had really messed with her brain, so she didn't comment and just nodded. "So where do I start?"
"There!" Alice pointed at a fork in the road, tangent to a swamp. "Jack will appear in a few moments."
"Jack?"
"Jack from 'Jack and the Beanstalk,' remember? The one Cerené mentioned in the last dream when she said she saw him steal from the Queen of Sorrow's kitchen."
"Jack is a thief? I thought he stole gold from a giant only, according to the books."
"Jack is the thief you read about with Axel in J.G.'s diary," Alice explained. "He is one of the Lost Seven. He likes you very much. You're like a little sister to him."
"Now you're confusing me again." Fable grunted. "I have never met Jack before. I'm not from this world."
"Like I said, there is no time to discuss that now," Alice insisted. "All you need to begin your adventure in the dream is to meet Jack and talk to him. He will take you from there to a series of events, ending with the moment Loki and Shew fell in love."
"Do I have to live all these events? What if I have a chance to get Loki's Fleece before that?"
"If you can, be my guest," Alice said. "If not, you have to wait until the story—or the memory—unfolds."
"I'm really confused." Fable sighed. "So what will Jack be doing when I see him?"
Before Alice replied, they could hear the sound of some boy laughing in the distance. Heavy thuds were following him, as if he were pursued by little monsters.
"That's him." Alice giggled. "He likes to steal from the goblins. They own a fruit market, the Goblin Market. They are vicious and ugly but they produce the best fruit in Sorrow. It tastes like nothing else. It's simply called the Goblin Fruit. Jack steals it just to mess with them."
Fable was trying to consume too much information at once, but seeing Jack approaching in the distance made her smile. The boy was nuts. He wore a green outfit, which was too expensive—it looked like he had stolen it. His boots were black and tall, and he wore a hat that seemed to mean the world to him. A green hat, which he had to pull over his head every now and then so it wouldn't fall as he ran. He also had a sack slung on his shoulder. It looked very much like a thief's sack.
"We will get you, Jack Madly!" the ugly goblin said behind him. He was short and stocky and his neck was the breadth of his head. He had a crumpled nose, one hole bigger than the other, and one eye bigger than the other. "Bring back our fruit!"
"It's time now," Alice said, pushing Fable into Jack's path.
"But—" Fable tried to ask for explanations, but she was too late. She was already in the middle of the road, and Jack saw her as he jumped off a hedge.
"Fable!" he said. "What are you doing here?"
26
Fable looked back to Alice for explanations. How did Jack know her name?
But Alice was gone.
Fable realized it was her responsibility to play along in this dream. Shew, Babushka, and probably Loki were counting on her.
"I—" was all she said before Jack grabbed her arm and ordered her to run along with him.
"Didn't I tell you not to come near the Goblin Market?" he panted as they ran. "Goblins will eat cute girls like you alive."
Eat me? Really? That's comforting. Fable decided she better not say anything for a while. They were running anyway.
Jack took her hand and they sped up, moving deeper into the trees. He knew the forest like he had designed it himself. Every curve. Every tree and every rabbit hole. The goblins didn't give up tailing them, though, spitting and cursing at Jack.
"Here." He handed her an orange fruit while they ran. "Take a bite."
Fable said nothing. She just took a bite, and couldn't believe herself. The Goblin Fruit was so tasty, like nothing she'd eaten at the Belly and the Beast. If only Axel knew about it.
"Nah, nah," Jack said. "You're not eating it the right way."
Still mute, Fable shook her head.
"You have to indulge in the fruit," he explained, and snatched it back and dug his teeth into it, allowing its juicy insides to stick to the sides of his mouth and then slide down as if he were a four-year-old. He closed his eyes briefly as he chewed and moaned loudly. So loudly, in fact, the goblins heard him and cursed him more. "That's the way you do it." He handed it back to Fable. "Now your turn."
"But we're running from the goblins," she said.
"We'll be running all of our lives, Fable," he said. "If we're going to give a damn about the goblins tailing us, we're never going to enjoy the moment."
Fable laughed at the logic and went ape on the fruit. It was a great release to do it that way. She didn't even think about the goblins anymore.
"Get the cat!" Jack screamed as they ran, pointing at a crippled cat by the side of a tree. "They will eat it alive if we leave it."
Fable did like he said, pulling the cat and patting it. She set her on a tree branch the goblins would be too short to reach, and then continued running.
Jack suddenly stopped at some point he seemed to recognize. He turned around and faced the goblins as he pulled Fable behind him. "Wrap your arms around me," he whispered. Fable complied.
The goblins stopped a few feet away from him, suspicious looks filling their deformed eyes.
"You want your fruit, little trashy and obnoxious goblins?"
"Don't talk to us like that, Jack Madly." The goblin leader waved a crumpled finger at him.
Jack laughed. "What is that you're waving at me?" He squinted. "I can't tell if it's your forefinger or toe."
The Goblin growled and took a step forward, about to eat Fable and Jack alive. Fable was really surprised that she was terrified by such short creatures, but they had pointed teeth, like vampires.
"Easy," Jack said, biting on a white feather between his teeth. "Let's just figure something out. I'm sure there is something in my Sack of Wonders that will make you happy."
"You always fool us with that sack," the goblin said. "Last time you sold me what you called the devil's last hair, told me it would help me grow hair myself." The Goblin was balder than the rest, who were mostly very hairy.
"Sorry about that," Jack said. "But hey"—he raised the Sack of Wonders—"I've just stolen the Queen's comb."
"Comb?" The Goblin was about to cry. "What use do I have with it?"
Jack pretended to sympathize, bowing his head. "How did I miss that?" He shook his head, and Fable tried not to laugh. "But it's a Mermaid's Comb." Jack wiggled his eyebrows. The goblins began panting and drooling.
"What use do we have with such a comb?" another Goblin protested.
"The merma
id needs it." Jack pointed at a swamp. Fable thought that only those ugly goblins would want to meet mermaids from that kind of filthy swamp. Suddenly she realized where she was. This was the Swamp of Sorrow, two hundred years ago. "Some mermaid must have lost it," Jack said. "You could simply seduce her out of the swamp."
Most Goblins giggled, nodding at each other. "And then eat her!" one said, chuckling.
"Well." Jack rolled his eyes. "If you insist. She's half fish, after all. Wouldn't you want to look at her breasts first? Just a suggestion."
"Breasts!" Another goblin chuckled. "I like to eat breasts."
"This is going nowhere." Jack shook his head.
"What are you saying?" a goblin growled.
"Nothing." Jack flashed a most generous fake smile at them. "Was just saying how beautiful you ugly goblins are." He tightened Fable's arms around his waist while the goblins rolled toward him.
"Jack!" Fable said, panicking. "What are we going to do?"
"Hold on." Jack knelt down and pulled a bean from his pocket. He planted it underneath the earth and chanted something. The bean grew into a tree.
The goblins had to stop, amazed and surprised by the tree coming out of the earth like a spiraling snake. Jack hung on to the tree as Fable hung on to him, all the way up to the highest sky.
"The comb, Jack!" the bald goblin leader growled.
"Next time," he yelled at them below. "When you grow a little hair!"
Jack laughed as he and Fable climbed up to the heavens. Fable felt like she was in an amusement park, riding the most incredible roller coaster of her life.
"Wow," she said, as the tree grew higher and closer to the moon. "That's amazing."
"What's with you today?" Jack said. "You act like you never climbed up my tree before."
Fable shrugged. "It's just I can't stop admiring it every time we climb it."
Jack looked unconvinced, but didn't comment. "After tonight's meeting, we should have a talk."
