Blood, Milk & Chocolate - Part 1 (The Grimm Diaries Book 3)

by Cameron Jace

  "But Loki knows the cottage," Fable complained, counting on Shew's story from the last Dreamory.

  "Loki is injured," Marmalade argued.

  "Thanks to me!" Ladle flashed her scythe in the air.

  Fable still didn't like the idea. She wasn't convinced Loki was wounded badly enough to not follow them.

  "What about the other huntsmen?" she asked.

  "They seem to be weaker when Loki isn't there," Cerené said. "Maybe they draw their powers from him. I know they will follow us, but we can fight them."

  Shew began to moan on the back of the Beast's horses. She was waking up. They continued riding along to nowhere.

  Farther into the forest, they began hearing the huntsmen's horses behind them. Heavy thuds were pounding the ground.

  They looked at each other in panic. Fable listened to Cerené say that the forest had always been darker than the castle. The forest always played games with them in favor of the Queen.

  They sped toward the cottage, as planned. Then they heard the scariest sound of them all. It wasn't the voice Fable was used to hearing, or even the darkest sound she could imagine. It roared among the trees, forcing animals to skew away, and dimmed the faint light passing through the trees into a veil of darkness.

  "Princess of Sorrow!" Loki roared from afar. His voice was tinged with pain and anger. "I am coming for you and all your friends!"

  37

  The Queen's Diary

  Although I had given in for a fraction of a moment, no words came out of my mouth. Captain Hook didn't mind. He would have waited for me to sell him my soul for seven days and seven nights. My soul was that good.

  But then I stared at him, my mind more alert now, as if I had been under Fate's spell, succumbing to its pressure, but then realizing I was my own fate. Why was I doing this? For what? Who said I couldn't find the Tower of Tales alone? It was unlikely, but I wasn't going to give up without a fight.

  Hook's face began to dim, and his bad skin began to smell of rotten fish and ale. He could it read it in my eyes that I had changed my mind.

  His wrath, as he could control almost anything in the sea, was beyond what I had imagined. It began to rain heavily, fish as much as water, as if some gates in the sky had opened all of a sudden. The ship swayed and shook violently. His eyes were still grey as the sea began to rage around us. The sea became so scary that his whales and mermaids vanished in the blink of an eye. Hook was a child with the power of Fate, after all. Not even a whale, however big, wanted to be in the face of a childish Fate right now.

  Sailors began to die on their own, fainting to an invisible wind, circling the ship and choking on whatever swirled around, like flies in a spider's web.

  Hook trotted near me, his big hands trying to reach for my neck. He'd decided if he wasn't going to have my soul, then he'd kill me.

  Something unexplainable told me to stand tough, cemented to my spot. I could have run, tried my slim luck with swimming. But an inner feeling told me to stay. I'd die at the hands of Fate but wouldn't give in to his joy at witnessing my misery.

  Hook approached. His hands were almost touching my neck when Angel finally appeared.

  It was Angel's rage, with all his fangs and reddened eyes, against Fate. The winning hand was still Fate's. But Angel and I together were stronger than each of us alone. There was no time to blame him, talk to him, or even kiss him. I gripped my sack as he gripped my hand and pulled me away from Fate.

  We fell to floor of the now-sinking ship and slid far away from Fate's hands.

  "Angel!" I touched his face, our hands and legs tangled, half soaked in the water.

  Angel stared at me for a short moment—though it felt rather long on my end—and I thought he wanted me to tell him I believed in him, which I was about to do when he shushed me.

  "I believe in you, Carmilla," Angel said. "Now it's my turn."

  I nodded as he pulled me impulsively into the sea. I couldn't believe we were jumping off the Pequod, but it looked like it was sinking anyway—and if you know Captain Ahab's story by now, and are asking about his leg being eaten by a whale, this happened a few years before that.

  Fate's anger peaked. There was lightning in the sky, all over the sea. No passing ship would have survived that day.

  But I didn't care. I was in Angel's arms, and I trusted him. He was the love of my life, purgatory, and after, like he said. And even though Fate waved his hands in the air, sending tide after tide after us, I didn't care…

  Wait.

  Something was wrong…

  I couldn't breathe. I just couldn't. This had been an impulsive move. My body trembled. I lost my grip on my sack. I felt like… dying. Worse. I felt like dying a thousand times. With all the water around me, my lips went dry. My heart stopped beating. I mean it. It stopped. My skin seemed to thin and dissolve. It felt as if I was turning into ash or sand, splintered into millions of pieces until my soul disappeared.

  Even while held by Angel, the joy of life, I was in perpetual sorrow. Hadn't he known I feared water more than I feared death?

  38

  Fable's Dreamworld

  Loki's voice filled the forest, like a ghost's breath terrorizing every step you make. Fable believed a few trees had backed away from them, afraid the Huntsman would hurt them. All kinds of animals hobbled away.

  None of the Lost Seven said a word for a long time. Loki's voice brought on a feeling of urgency to ride away from him, as far as possible. It was as if unshadowing from the Missing Mile had turned him into a more evil entity than the Queen herself. Or was the forest handing him such power? Fable thought about where she had been before the dream—in this forest, right? What evil had she endured in here so much that she feared something as small as breadcrumbs?

  How could anyone fear breadcrumbs?

  ***

  A few minutes later, Fable still rode alongside the others, the Beast still taking care of Shew's coffin.

  "The cottage idea isn't going to work," Jack said, riding along. He still made sure his hat was in place. "I haven't heard Loki so angry before. I am not sure we can confront the huntsmen this way. They definitely are empowered by his presence."

  "Thanks to Ladle." Marmalade pursed her lips. "She didn't have to hurt him. He is angrier now."

  "And how were we supposed to escape the castle?" Fable said. Ladle did nothing but feed her horse another fortune cookie.

  "Stop it." Jack seemed irritated. "Let's get up to my tree." He wasn't asking. He changed direction and rode away.

  The rest followed.

  Fable thought the tree made sense. In fact, they should have thought of it earlier. Loki couldn't reach them there. Still, Loki's threatening voice didn't seem to be far away no matter where they rode.

  At the same spot Jack had brought Fable up before, he planted his beans after getting off his horse. Immediately, the tree began to rise, Jack hanging on to its vine. "We have to leave the horses," he said. "I don't know of a way to get them up."

  "Then we have to make sure they are scattered all around," Marmalade said. "So Loki doesn't know our location. We can't risk that. I will do it."

  Sometimes, Marmalade's role as leader worked just fine, Fable thought.

  The Beast held Shew's coffin on his own, slung like Jack's sack behind his back. Shew's neck twisted inside.

  But as Fable began climbing, Jack screamed from above, "Get down!" He came flying, holding to a vine with one hand, his hat with the other. He looked like Tarzan. "We can't get up now. The giant!"

  Even the Beast looked worried, and climbed back down and put Shew on the horse again.

  "The giant?" Fable said.

  "Jack's giant?" Marmalade squinted at her. She had begun noticing Fable's repetitive questioning.

  "Of course." Fable shrugged. She assumed Jack and the Beanstalk had a rival giant in the tales, so it made sense. She wondered why he wasn't present before, though. "Where to, then?"

  "Back to the cottage plan," Marmalade said. "We're rea
lly wasting time."

  "I know of a place better than the cottage," Cerené said. Fable turned and looked at her, and was astonished at Cerené's eye contact with her. Again, it seemed like Fable should have known about the place Cerené was about to mention. Fable shook her head, as most of the others had returned on their horses, listening to Cerené.

  "Where to?" Jack said.

  "Trust me," Cerené said. "It's the best hideout. Much better than the cottage. Loki knows the cottage well."

  "Then maybe you can fight him with your Art again," Marmalade suggested. "Like you told us you did the last time."

  "Yeah," Ladle chirped. "Blow some dragon, Cerené!"

  Fable had to admit, Death didn't fear anything. She almost thought all of this was fun.

  "I can't." Cerené glanced behind Fable toward Loki's voice. "There is no time to explain. Besides, my creations from the blowpipe don't last long."

  "Then where to?" the Beast said calmly. He didn't seem to worry about Loki. He worried about Shew, though. Fable began to think that saving Shew wasn't just about doing the right thing and saving the Princess. The Lost Seven seemed to have a greater reason.

  "To a cave!" Cerené said, and rode away.

  The Beast followed—a bit intimidated by the giant above, Fable noticed. He had Shew with him, so everyone else had to follow.

  "We can't get the horses into a cave too," Marmalade noted. "I'll scatter them running in every direction, misleading the huntsmen. It will buy us time."

  "Hiding in a cave is suicide," Jack mumbled. "There is only one way in and out. Once we're in, if they find us, we'll be easily squashed to death."

  Loki's voice seemed to fade a bit. Maybe he was finally riding toward the cottage, which was good. Cerené said the cave was in another direction.

  Panting, they finally reached the cave.

  It was an ordinary cave inside a very large juniper tree. It was an old tree, perhaps thousands of years old, looking dead and hard as stone. It was also at the bottom of a hill, so it was a good hideout. The opening of the tree only allowed one person through at a time. Fable didn't like that. She wondered why Cerené thought she also knew about this cave. Had Fable been here before?

  Just when they got off their horses, they heard footsteps approaching.

  "Who's that?" Fable said.

  "You think the huntsmen decided to hunt us on foot?" Jack flashed his sword.

  The footsteps didn't stop.

  And then there stood someone under the thin and faint sunrays passing through the density of the trees.

  Jack lowered his sword and smiled. Everyone else did, too. Fable looked and could only see light. Someone walked toward them. Someone who was shining, light coming out in every direction. She couldn't really see who it was.

  "Welcome back," Jack said. "Star."

  ***

  "You weren't going to do this without me, were you?" the Star said. It was hard to tell whether it was a boy or a girl. The Star's voice was like some alien code. Fable wondered if he/she had always been this way.

  "You're back!" most of them hailed. Fable hailed along. She wasn't supposed to let them know she was from another world.

  Ladle ran into the arms of the Star, the aura of light thickening. Marmalade followed, and they both glowed with the Star now.

  The welcome didn't last long. They had no time. So they began entering the cave one by one. It was easiest for Fable to get in. She was the smallest. It began to make sense that she had been there before. With Cerené? Alone?

  The hardest to squeeze in was the Beast. Jack had to carry Snow White inside the cave—although he had never been exactly fond of her. He still believed Shew was like her mother and would end up biting them, like vampires did.

  Marmalade patted the horses away in every wrong direction to elude the huntsmen when they arrived.

  She went in last.

  ***

  The cave was dark. They depended on the Star's faint source of light to see. It seemed unable to shine brightly like outside, but still its identity was obscure.

  "Where am I?" Shew moaned, waking up.

  "You're safe with us." Cerené held her tightly. Being best friends, Cerené's presence comforted the disoriented Shew.

  "Can't we sedate her again, so she won't bite us?" Jack scoffed. Ladle nudged him into silence.

  A long time after, it was clear the huntsmen had lost them. Only every now and then did they hear Loki's faint shouts, cursing Shew.

  "What if they find us now?" Jack said. "They could just spit fire into the cave and burn us." He had expressed his concerns since the beginning.

  "I may be able to fight back with my Moutza," said Cerené. "But not for long."

  It didn't sound like a good idea. Huntsmen were famous for burning houses with convicted citizens of Sorrow inside. Astonishingly, Cerené turned to Fable. Fable didn't understand. How was she supposed to help?

  "Fable might know how to help," Cerené said, piercing her with that eye contact again.

  "How so?" Jack said.

  It showed that everyone else had always considered Fable the smallest and weakest, which she was in many ways. She was afraid of the Queen's goddamn breadcrumbs, for God's sake. The idea made Fable reach for the breadcrumbs from the Waking World. She certainly wasn't afraid of those. What was going on?

  "Can I talk to Fable outside for a moment?" Cerené asked the others. "It's important."

  "If it will help our situation," Marmalade said, playing leader again.

  "It will," Cerené said. "I promise."

  ***

  "What is it, Cerené?" Fable fidgeted. She remembered Alice Grimm's caution about exposing herself, and worried Cerené would ask her something she had no answer for.

  "I know you've been through a lot, and that I shouldn't be asking you this," Cerené said. "But it's the best thing you can do for the Lost Seven. It hurts, but you can save us all."

  Fable shrugged. It was a good idea not to talk unless Cerené expected an answer. She let her continue.

  "Your Black Art can help us." Cerené held both Fable's hands in hers.

  "My Black Art?"

  "I know you can seal the cave with dark magic," Cerené said. "You told me you have done this before."

  "I told you?"

  "When you…" Cerené stopped, as if not wanting to hurt Fable's feelings. "Look, there is no need to talk about it. Just do it. Seal the cave. I know it hurts, but look at it this way: no one will think of you as the weakest and the youngest anymore. I know you aren't. I know you're stronger. Much stronger than what anyone else thinks."

  "Seal the cave?" Fable looked at the opening. She wished she had learned how to do that from the books she'd read in the Waking World. Was Cerené implying Fable had become a witch in the last three months? What kind of witch, and what power did she have?

  "You told me you spread your arms and concentrated," Cerené said. "I even remember the spell, but I know it wouldn't work with me. I am not a witch."

  "The spell." Fable nodded. "Really?" She pretended she was curious. "You're a good listener, Cerené." She faked a smile. "But I don't believe you remember it. It's a hard spell."

  Fable really hoped this would work.

  "Not that hard." Cerené poked her playfully. "Elle tortula. Belle fortulla. Sealle cavura. Webbe spidura."

  Fable was glad she had memorized so many spells in the Waking World, or she would have needed Cerené to repeat it. "Of course I'll do it." She waved her hands, as if it were easy. "Let's go back and seal the cave from inside. That's what you meant, right?" Fable supposed this spell would keep the huntsmen from getting inside and hurting them for a while, but what about when the seven wanted to go out again? She asked Cerené, who confirmed that Fable had told her she'd use the same spell to do that.

  Inside, everyone anticipated Fable. She smiled at everyone. A weak smile. A smile of a liar who might be messing with their lives. She really hoped Cerené was right. "We're going to be all right," Fable said
, pretending. "I'm going to help you."

  Fable turned to the cave and spread her arms toward it. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and began to recite: "Elle tortula. Belle fortulla. Sealle cavura. Webbe spidura."

  39

  The Queen's Diary

  The best thing about waking up was knowing that I wasn't dead. The worst was that some lives were worse than death.

  I lay on my back on several logs tied with a rope. I could feel each log surging pain into my back. I couldn't move for a long time, and Angel wasn't nearby. At least not in my peripheral vision. I didn't hear his voice, nor was I strong enough to call for him. I gave in, looking at the sky above.

  It seemed too dark up there. No moon. No stars. Nothing. A blank piece of black—wait, not really black, maybe grey or a faint brown that seemed blurry. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. I tried to open them as wide as I could. I didn't think there was anything wrong with my eyes. In fact, they seemed the strongest part of my body right now.

  What's wrong with this sky?

  Every now and then, there seemed to be lines in the sky. Curvy lines, as if the sky was bending down on me. The lines were faint, far away, and inconsistent, but I followed one, craning my neck so much that I let out a painful scream. The craning made me see my pale feet. Had Angel taken me underwater to escape Fate's tides? Was he able to breath underwater? Was I?

  But that didn't matter. It was that line bending down from the sky, sinking into the black of the sea, right beyond my feet. Then it disappeared into the tideless waters. Where was this place, so calm in the sea? Had Fate's wrath ended, just like that?

  I ached to prop myself up on the logs. It was painful, but I needed to see where I was.

  Everything around me was dark. In fact, I had never seen the sea as dark. At least the place felt safe.

  "Angel?" My voice seemed hollow. I couldn't explain it. It must be how it sounded in a calm sea. But Angel didn't reply.

  The raft underneath me was big enough for six or eight people. A rather small, flat raft. It seemed to have been recently constructed, because the ropes were really tight and strong. It could not have endured Fate's wrath. Did Angel make it for me?