A Grimm Legacy

by Janna Jennings

  "Now what?" Fredrick asked.

  "Maybe we can dig up some information about Dylan from Molly."

  "Let's go then." Fredrick's long legs strode toward the kitchen and Andi had to jog to keep up. "Did you hear what the prince said as he stormed out of the cloak room?"

  "No, I didn't catch it.” Her own voice floating around made Andi disoriented.

  "He said, 'Herrchen is not going to be pleased.'"

  Andi furrowed her brow and, remembering Fredrick couldn't see her, asked, "Who's that?"

  "Don’t know. Maybe someone from the book?”

  They stopped outside at the double doors to the kitchen.

  "Do I just go in and ask?" Fredrick said, giving the door a small push, making it swing.

  "That's going to look really suspicious at this point. Leave it to me." Andi slipped, invisible and silent, through the swinging doors.

  With the bustle of the feast over, only a handful of servants were left scrubbing pots and taking out garbage.

  “Molly!” one of the dish boys called without looking up from his scrub brush. “How ‘bout a hand?”

  None of the remaining working staff answered, but a girl whose face was red and blotchy from crying grabbed her things and disappeared deeper into the kitchen.

  Andi took a chance and followed. The girl opened a small wooden door set in the back wall of the kitchen and Andi slipped inside after her. It was a damp, cramped, stone staircase with candle sconces every few feet, half of them empty. In the low flickering light, Andi realized she was in one of the servants’ places, usually unseen by royalty and their guests. It was a good a place as any.

  Andi pushed back her hood, reappearing before catching the petite girl’s attention. “Hey,” she whispered.

  The girl whirled around, dropping her bag, its contents rolled down the stairs, hitting the door at the bottom.

  “You nearly stopped my heart!” the girl gasped, clutching her chest.

  “Sorry.” Andi picked up a mess of hairpins from her feet and passed them back to the girl, who hastily shoved them back in her bag. “Are you Molly?”

  The girl hesitated and then gave a jerky nod.

  “I’m a friend of Dylan’s. Do you know where he is?”

  The lipstick tube Molly had collected from the steps slipped out of her hands and clattered back down the stairs.

  “Dylan?” she stammered. “I left him outside the queen’s corridor.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. ”I had to get back to work and he said there was something he wanted to look into.” Molly bundled her bag to her chest and glanced up the stairs. “I have to go.”

  “Wait! You’ve forgotten some of your stuff,” Andi said, holding out a collection of pens, receipts, and keys. She peered more closely at Molly’s red and swollen eyes as they darted around the small space, looking anywhere but at Andi. “Are you okay?”

  Molly snatched her things from Andi and shoved everything into her purse. “Yeah, it’s just Kochien. I messed up the dough for tomorrow’s pastries and she sent me home early.”

  Andi frowned. “No. I was just in there, she’s not—” Molly wouldn’t meet Andi’s eyes and stumbled backward up the stairs.

  “I’ve got to go,” she repeated before turning and bolting away.

  It took Andi only a few strides to overtake her, and even though Molly was considerably taller, Andi grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip and gave her a shake.

  “Where’s Dylan?” she snarled.

  Molly pushed against her weakly, but didn’t really seem to want to fight back. “I don’t know,” she said, tears filling her eyes again as she glanced away, biting her lip.

  “But you know something,” Andi insisted, tightening her hold.

  “The guards took him,” she gasped, trying to twist out of her grip. “I don’t know why. I was just supposed to lead him away from the crowd and distract him.” The tears gathering in her eyes turned in to a full on waterworks.

  Andi stepped back, letting Molly slump to the floor. The girl massaged her arm and continued to cry.

  “Why would you do that?” Andi hissed, glancing at the door to make sure they hadn’t been overheard.

  “I didn’t want to, I swear. Dylan was so sweet.” She mopped at her face with her sleeves, smearing the mess around. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You always have a choice!” Andi said, wanting to scream at this sniveling girl.

  Molly shook her head stubbornly. “No I don’t. You should know that.”

  Andi turned on her heel, dread threatening to consume her. Leaving Molly sobbing on the stairs, Andi pulled up her hood and went to find Fredrick.

  Chapter 29

  “How about, your sense of humor?"

  "Did the same person take both Dylan and Quinn?" Fredrick asked.

  Andi was livid. If she hadn’t been wearing her cloak, she would have been visibly shaking. "I don't know, but let's hope they're together. The first thing we need to do is get out of this castle."

  "You should go. You won't have a problem getting away with the cloak.”

  Andi snorted. "I am not leaving you here. Let's see what we're dealing with."

  Making Fredrick stay behind one of the pillars of the arched passageway, she took a stroll around the main ballroom. The guests left were herded into the main room while the orchestra finished its last set. It was clear the atmosphere had changed. Guards stood at attention in a ring around the room spaced several yards apart. There was plenty of space for Andi to walk out unnoticed, but not Fredrick.

  Scrunching her face at the complexity of the situation, she reported back to Fredrick. "It's no good, we'll have to find an exit with fewer guards.”

  Several minutes of poking around led them to a servant’s staircase identical to the one Andi had confronted Molly in. It smelled of damp cabbage and spiraled into the bowels of the castle. At the end of the stairs was a small wooden door that presumably opened outside, probably to an alleyway or trash heap. One guard remained on watch. He stretched, fidgeted, and smothered a yawn.

  Andi scooped up a handful of convenient pebbles and threw them a few feet in front of the guard. The tiny stones appeared out of nowhere and clatter at his feet. The guard stepped forward to retrieve one, and another would bounce into view. Slowly, step by step, Andi led him away from the door. On silent feet, Fredrick sped past the guard studying the ceiling, searching for the source of the mysterious pebbles. Fredrick tugged at the door and gave Andi a panicked look.

  Did she have to do everything herself?

  Stealing as close as she dared, Andi slid a finger under the guard’s belt, smoothly lifting the keys free. She tossed them to Fredrick. They reappeared in midair and Andi breathed a small sigh of relief as Fredrick caught them and jammed one into the lock.

  It didn't fit.

  The jangling of keys caught the guard’s attention. Andi kicked him hard in the back of the knees before he could call out. He pitched forward on the flagstones with a muffled grunt.

  As Fredrick fumbled with the second key, the guard kicked out blindly, his foot making a lucky connection with Andi’s invisible hip. She hit the floor hard enough to knock the breath out of her and her hood to fall off. Suddenly, she was visible again and immobilized—a bad combination.

  Abandoning the locked door, Fredrick moved to help Andi. She tried to gain enough air to tell him what an idiot he was, and to just get the stupid door open, when a man dressed like Shakespeare appeared from a side passage.

  Mr. Jackson drove his foot into the fallen guard’s middle. There was a solid thud as he connected the kick, followed by a grunt of pain. Mr. Jackson lifted Andi upright and thrust her to the door.

  He caught Fredrick in the rush and snatched the keys from his hands. Before Fredrick could fully stammer out, “Mr Jackson?” he had opened the door and shoved them out into the night.

  "Go!" he ordered, slamming the door in their faces.

  Fredrick glanced behind him at the dark
kitchen garden they’d been tossed in.

  “Mr. Jackson!” Andi called, pounding on the door.

  A horse whinnied not far away and the mummer of men’s voices drifted on the wind.

  “We’ve got to go,” Fredrick said, pulling on her arm.

  She gave the door one more frustrated kick before she pulled up her hood and started jogging.

  They ran along the road with the pine trees hemming them in on either side until Andi tossed her hood back, reappearing several yards behind Fredrick.

  "Stop!" she pled, gasping for air. "I've got to rest."

  Fredrick backtracked to where she collapsed on a low stone wall. He would never admit it, but his ribs were on fire. Lying around a barn for two days had helped them heal considerably until he’d jostled them running along a dirt road. Now they were flaring up again.

  Digging in his pocket for the leftover painkillers, his hand brushing something hard and round. Rolling the cool circle of the pearl ring between his fingers, he remembered freeing Quinn from the witch as the flower disintegrated in his hand. And now she was in trouble again—gone. He dry swallowed the pill, tried to breathe slowly, and checked on Andi.

  Even in the dark, the dirt road they were on was easy to recognize as the one they traveled on from the train station days ago. Fredrick estimated they were about a mile and a half from the castle. The night around them was silent, but the prince and his guards wouldn’t be far behind.

  Andi kicked off her shoes and curled her toes, letting out an exhausted sigh.

  "Put your hood up in case someone comes by,” Fredrick said.

  "It's getting hot under there," Andi complained, but obediently vanished out of sight. Her breath appeared in a frosty fog in the chilly night air, the only sign she was still there. "Where are we going?"

  "We need to find where this sorceress is.”

  "Dame Gothel,” Andi supplied.

  "Right, so we’ll need directions and a ride. How much money do you have left from Mr. Jackson?" Fredrick asked the empty spot on the wall.

  "Nothing." Andi’s breathing slowed and her disembodied voice panted less. "You three had everything, otherwise Lady Wellington would have gotten her hands on it."

  Fredrick ran a hand through his hair, a bad habit he had picked up from Dylan. "Quinn divided what was left between the three of us in case we got separated. Let's hope what I have is enough."

  Just before Andi responded, Fredrick put up a hand, quietly asking for silence. She tried to quiet her breathing as he listened. In the distance was the sound of hoof beats, slowly growing louder, coming their way.

  "Come on,” Fredrick said.

  He heard Andi land lightly on her feet and they set off at a run. The only visible signs of Andi were small puffs of dust kicked up by her feet and he followed her as closely as he dared without risking tripping over her.

  "I swear, if I ever get home I'm going to buy myself a pair of sneakers,” she mumbled to herself, “and they are never leaving my feet."

  Fredrick smiled to himself despite the horses and voices echoing nearer behind them. Their pursuers were getting too close.

  "In here." Fredrick vaulted over the low stone wall. From the sound of it, Andi was struggling to get herself over. "It's really frustrating not being able to see you."

  "Try running without being able to see your feet,” she snapped.

  They blundered through the dark, pushing their way farther into the trees.

  "Get down!" Andi hissed.

  Fredrick obeyed, hitting the ground and pressing his face to the pine needles. The dust tickled his nose and threatened to make him sneeze. He could sense Andi standing over him, invisible.

  The horses approached, the staccato of their hooves gradually increasing until they were right on top of them. They thundered past without pausing.

  "Let's stick to the woods. It'll be slower, but safer,” Fredrick said as he carefully stood back up, his ribs burning in protest.

  "Fine, but I get to take this hood off.”

  They worked their way along the edge of the wood, keeping the road in sight through the trees. The road was quiet, and the roots and pine needles they kept tripping and sliding on were becoming easier to see with the lightening sky.

  "How much farther?" Andi asked, her voice weary.

  "I don't know,” Fredrick apologized.

  They staggered on. Fredrick's pain pill had kicked in long ago, but it only turned the stabbing pains in his chest into a blunt ache. It still hurt every time he breathed. The light continued to brighten and Fredrick caught Andi staring at him with an odd smile. She let out a mirthless chuckle.

  "What?" Fredrick asked with a nervous tug at his clothes.

  Andi seemed to find this hilarious.

  Fredrick pulled up short as she staggered with laughter, heaving for breath.

  "Look at us!" she gasped.

  He glanced down at his mud crusted clothes and hands, trying to remember what happened to his tux jacket. Fredrick took a good look at Andi in the light with her red-rimmed eyes and demolished hair covered in sappy pine needles. He gave her a lopsided grin.

  "We are a mess,” he admitted.

  She wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together.

  "Listen," Fredrick said.

  She gave one last low chuckle and composed herself. "The birds… They're waking up." She gave a sharp whistle and a small, nondescript bird flew out of the sky and alighted on her outstretched hand. It gave a few chirps, hopped right, then left, cocked its head to the side, and gave a final whistle.

  "What’d he say?" Fredrick asked.

  "She said the train station is just a quarter of a mile farther,” Andi said.

  "Has she seen the prince's men?"

  The bird gave a single cheep.

  Andi shook her head. "No."

  "Does she know where Dame Gothel is?"

  "She can understand you, you know,” Andi pointed out.

  Fredrick turned toward the bird and, feeling like an idiot, repeated the question.

  "She says no. She never leaves this part of the forest."

  “Oh well. We’re almost there, we'd better go.”

  Andi rubbed a single finger against the bird's breast and tossed her back into the air.

  The thought of the train station so close gave Fredrick new life and they shambled along at a jog until he saw the tiny platform and decrepit booth waiting quietly in the early morning shade.

  "He's here." Fredrick nodded to the odd little man’s horse and cart tethered behind the building.

  Fredrick attempted to straighten his hair and tuck in his filthy tux shirt, but gave it up after realizing the pointlessness of the action.

  “Stay here,” he told to Andi and, before she could argue with him, he circled to the front of the ticket booth and looked inside. It was empty.

  "Paul?" Fredrick called quietly. The sun warmed the back of his neck as he peered into the dark depths of the booth. "Paul?" he tried again, slightly louder.

  A clatter and a curse rose up from the floor of the booth. Fredrick stood on his tiptoes and pressed his forehead against the bars. Paul was picking himself up off the ground, shaking his head, disoriented. Fredrick suspected he had been asleep and fallen off his stool.

  "What do you want?" Paul asked, just his eyes and angry eyebrows poking above the counter. "Oh, it's you." His head swiveled around, surveying the platform. "Where’s the rest of you?"

  "They're around." Fredrick grabbed the bars with both hands. "Paul, I have a deal for you."

  "Oh, cut right to it, huh? What is it?"

  "I need directions, to Dame Gothel's.”

  "How much are you offering?" Paul countered.

  "How much are you asking?" Fredrick asked, suddenly unsure.

  A grubby hand appeared and a thick stump of a finger scratched the space above his wild eyebrows.

  "Such a small request. How about your sense of humor?" Paul offered.

  "What?" Fredrick asked, completely
taken aback.

  "Take it or leave it." The little man sniffed once and waited.

  Fredrick paced the small platform and considered the offer. A week ago he wouldn't have entertained the possibility you could take someone's sense of humor, but he felt Paul was completely capable of making good on his deal.

  Would he miss it? Fredrick didn't think he possessed much of one. He was not someone who laughed often or found things funny that others his age usually did. What would it be like to never find anything funny again?

  Fredrick turned back to the diminutive man in the booth. "I was thinking more of money in exchange for information."

  "I told you before, if it doesn't mean much to you, I don't want it,” Paul said.

  "That’s what you said before, but then you were happy to take our money,” Fredrick pointed out.

  The door behind Paul swung in silently on a gust of wind.

  "Take it or leave it,” the man said with a shrug. A moment later, Paul’s eyes grew as round as saucers and he sat up straighter.

  Andi's immaterial voice filled the small space of the ticket booth. "I have a better deal. You tell us how to get there, and I won't shoot you.”

  Chapter 30

  “I don't think I'd lose any sleep tonight if a few of your toes were lost when this gun went off."

  "Andi?" Fredrick called.

  "Stay out of this, Fredrick. You've had your turn. Now this is between Paul and me.” Andi’s hard voice drifted from somewhere behind the small man.

  Paul's eyes narrowed and he tried to turn around, but Andi must have jabbed the barrel of the gun harder into his ribs because he held still and satisfied himself glaring in Fredrick's direction.

  "I know your voice, missy. You'll have to excuse me if I don't believe you have a gun, let alone the guts to use it,” Paul sneered.

  Andi flung off her hood, reappearing. She spun Paul on his stool to face her and jabbed her revolver at his potato-like nose. The long and narrow gun—more like a miniature rifle than anything—had Paul crossing his eyes trying to get a good look at it.