Fearie Tales

by Fearie Tales- Stories of the Grimm

  “Oh, so you’ve heard of them?” She stopped and smiled at him. “I don’t know what’s supposed to be so terrible about them. We talked all night and they were delighted I was so interested in what they had to say. They were all really nice. And when they’d had a chance to tell their stories they just melted away. We managed to get through everyone’s tales by the time the sun came up. My ears are still buzzing.”

  The guard, a man of about fifty dressed in a cheap gray uniform suit, scratched his head. His expression wavered between surprise and alarm. “Then … in that case, the first spell is broken!”

  Asa plunged her hands into her pockets. This was getting even more exciting. “What spell is that?”

  He leaned forward slightly. “Only a few people are initiated into the secret. The whole town has been under a curse since Doctor Faustus made his pact with Mephistopheles. The town can only be freed from the curse if … if a hero turns up, able to complete all the tasks set for them. In my time I’ve removed several dead bodies from this crypt. None of them managed to get past the first hurdle.” He looked the young woman up and down. “Can it be that you are the hero we’ve been waiting for?”

  “Possibly—what do I need to know in order to complete the other two tasks?” She had a vague memory of having read something about Faustus. Wasn’t it a play by Goethe? A tragedy? That was all she could remember.

  The security guard shrugged. “Nobody knows that. But I’ll pray for you. Good-bye for now, although I feel we’ll meet again.”

  Asa thanked him and stepped out of the monument that was now no longer a refuge for lost souls. She hurried down the steps to where Bathseda was still unconscious in the corner.

  She awakened the raven-haired beauty with a gentle kiss on the lips.

  Bathseda opened her eyes and stared up at her, perplexed.

  “Right. What’s next?” asked Asa.

  “You’re … still alive?” The young woman rubbed her face in amazement, briefly fingering the place where Asa’s knuckle-duster had grazed her cheek. “And you knocked me out? How could you possibly do that? No normal human being could do that!”

  Asa simply smiled and helped the girl to her feet. “So, what’s the next thing I have to do to free my brother?”

  Bathseda gave her a long, searching look as if she were struggling to make sense of a thousand wild thoughts, then she grasped Asa’s hand and pulled her along. “I’ll show you.”

  They took the limousine back into town, past houses that had seen better days and splendid buildings that had been restored; past dazzling, brightly lit palaces of glass and stubbornly defiant ruins that harked back to darker times. Asa sensed that they were headed into the very heart of Leipzig.

  The vehicle suddenly stopped and they got out. The smoked-glass windows gave no clue as to who or what was actually their driver.

  Asa and Bethseda made their way through the streets under an already darkening sky, past ancient façades, stone statues and lofty towers, until they arrived at the magnificent entrance to an impressive-looking shopping mall.

  Everything was bright: there were cafés and shops full of glittering luxury goods, but the black-haired girl took Asa past a group of figures cast in bronze and down some steep steps leading to Auerbachs Keller.

  Instead of going through the main door, Bathseda chose a side entrance giving onto a smallish room which contained only a large wine barrel against the wall and a table and some chairs.

  “Wait here for midnight,” she instructed. “I’m eager to know whether we’ll meet again in the morning.”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  Bathseda looked at her. “I don’t know. I didn’t set the tasks.” She turned around, all set to leave.

  “What’s the story with you and your father?” Asa saw her words had rooted the young woman to the spot.

  “What do you mean?” she asked without turning.

  “You both behave very strangely,” Asa announced. “You can do peculiar things and I feel very odd when you’re near me. Then there’s the hint you gave—that no normal person could best you in a fight.”

  Bathseda glanced back provocatively over her shoulder. “If you can work it out, then I am yours.” That was all she said. The girl lowered her eyes, and then left the dark room.

  Asa looked around and then, with no further ado, made herself comfortable on the table, using her jacket as a pillow. She closed her eyes, needing to recover from an eventful night.

  The stories she had been told were still buzzing around in her head. The ghosts had related many different fates, and they had all been speaking at once. It had been very loud and confused, but somehow every single tale had registered in her brain. She could well understand how any normal person would have died of fright.

  Asa was not sure, but she had the impression that she had allowed those ghosts to find their rest, although Bathseda had maintained that there was no place for them in either Heaven or Hell.

  “She has traveled far, her journey long. Her strange apparel—she looks all wrong.” This was said in a loud masculine voice, and it was followed by a chorus of laughter.

  Asa thought it best to pretend that she was still asleep. She must have nodded off.

  “In truth, my friend, how right you are! The things you see in Leipzig nowadays! We’re just like Paris, and our people so cultured,” came a second voice, mocking the previous speaker.

  “Who do you suppose this stranger is?” asked another.

  Asa lay still upon the table, her eyes tight shut. Let these newcomers chatter if they wanted to.

  The antiquated manner of their speech indicated these might be more ghosts from a very long time ago. So far as she could work it out, there were four of them, and she soon picked up their names: Frosch, Siebel, Altmayer and Brandner. From the sound of their voices she thought they must be young men.

  And suddenly she remembered: they were in Goethe’s play! The bronzes she had passed on her way down to Auerbachs Keller had been the students in Faust! Could they have been real people, not just invented characters in a drama? Her pulse was now racing with excitement.

  Asa opened her eyes and sat up, stretching and pretending she had just woken up.

  She looked about and saw four figures gathered around the table. They looked real enough, of flesh and blood, unlike the misty phantoms from the crypt beneath the Völkerschlacht monument.

  The quartet were wearing clothes which had been fashionable centuries ago, and they had very odd-looking haircuts, although possibly quite the height of style in their day.

  “Wake up, good lady,” Brandner called encouragingly. “You shall be our guest—let us offer you a drink!”

  “Many are the guests that come, yet most in fear take flight when they of us catch sight,” added Frosch.

  Brandner helped her down from the table, and Altmayer held out a chair for her. She sat down and smiled at the four students. She was surprised to see a wine-tap set into the table at each of their places, as if the furniture itself was a wine barrel filled with the fermented juices of the vine.

  “My thanks. What do you have to offer?”

  “Here I have the finest Rhenish wine,” announced Frosch, raising his goblet.

  Brandner laughed at him. “Champagne is mine! Foaming, sparkling, tastes divine!” He indicated the tap nearest his own seat.

  Siebel gave a dismissive gesture. “Fair Fräulein, I offer you Tokaji, Hungary’s very best.”

  Altmayer broke into contemptuous laughter. “The wine I pour will never tire. It’s any taste you may desire.”

  Asa was beginning to realize what her next challenge was going to be—a peculiar kind of wine-tasting. As soon as she removed any of the bungs, one of the various wines described would fill the cup she apparently now held.

  The girl quickly racked her brains to consider what the dangers might be, apart from getting really drunk and having a major hangover.

  “I can’t refuse?”

  “No
, we insist!” the spirits chorused.

  Frosch got up first, offering Asa his seat. “Now, dear lady. Take the cup. You must not spill a single drop.”

  The other three chuckled, eyeing her expectantly.

  Asa stepped over, sat down and held out her goblet. The tap was level with her navel. She hoped the wine would not come shooting out at high pressure, or else it would soak her.

  The expressions on the students’ faces made her wary. One of them licked his lips, and they all watched her hungrily. Were they waiting for her to make a mistake? Would they attack her if she did?

  Asa was excited and in high spirits. She loosened the first bung carefully. “Tell me, friends dear, how long you’ve been residing here?” She had to grin when she realized she was mimicking their way of speaking.

  “Oh, ever since Doctor Faustus and his friend deigned to honor us with their company,” answered Brandner, not taking his eyes off her for a second.

  “It is as if it were but yesterday,” added Altmayer.

  “But yet, a whole eternity,” sighed Siebel. “How I wish I might return to my own home.”

  Asa held the cup in position, removed the plug and caught the wine carefully without spilling a drop.

  “Go on, go on—fill the goblet to the brim,” Frosch whispered in an ugly tone. “To the brim!”

  “If you let it spill, with you it will go ill!” warned Siebel with a cruel laugh.

  Asa nodded, filled the cup right up and closed off the tap, lifting the wine. “And with you!” Taking long, slow drafts, she drained the alcohol. It wasn’t bad at all, but very strong, with an intense aftertaste.

  Altmayer looked disappointed. “They nearly all succeed the first time round.”

  “Let’s pop the next cork!” Brandner moved to make way for Asa. “Champagne!”

  The students crowded around her as Asa heaved herself with some difficulty into the next chair. Her limbs were heavy and she could already feel the effect of the alcohol. She did not usually have this problem. Ghost wine was apparently strong stuff.

  She took more care this time as she attempted to open the champagne. The cup filled with foaming liquid and this time, too, she managed to avoid any spillage. The four ghostly beings were starting to look annoyed.

  Despite her efforts, some of the champagne bubbled over the edge of the goblet, flowing down the side and wetting her thumb.

  Asa drew in her breath sharply at the dreadful pain. The skin on her thumb went black and a brownish smoke curled up from the wound. The wine had burned her flesh right through to the bone. She nearly wobbled, risking the loss of more of the cup’s contents, which would surely have caused grave injury.

  Frosch giggled maliciously. “There you are! Burns like hellfire, don’t it?”

  “We did warn you.” Brandner had a diabolical grin on his face. “Now drink it down, all in one go. Inside your throat it won’t hurt so.”

  Asa was very drunk by the time she slammed the empty cup down onto the table. In order not to stumble as she changed seats once more, she held fast to the edge and slid herself along to get to where Siebel was.

  She was having difficulty focusing; the four figures looked demon-like. Asa thought it was all getting very intriguing.

  What made her furious was that the drink was making her hands shake. This could all get very dangerous. Hadn’t the wine in Goethe’s play turned to fire when it touched the floor? That meant that if she let a single drop fall, she would be engulfed in flames like a human torch.

  Asa fiddled clumsily with the next bung as her fingers slipped, but finally it popped out and she managed to catch the wine in her cup.

  The four students were bent over laughing at her. However, their high-spirited enjoyment had an evil, malevolent side—they were hoping that she would fail.

  Asa drank down the Tokaji wine, then crawled over the table while the young men screamed with laughter as she fell off the other side, landing with her face under the final wine-tap. She was gasping for breath and felt nauseous, but she reckoned this accursed wine would turn into hellfire if she was sick.

  “Now,” Altmayer bent down, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up. “The final cup. Drink!”

  “And what if I can’t?” Asa’s words were slurred.

  “Then you will die!” all four of them roared in unison, laughing hysterically.

  “Not nearly ready to do that yet.” She hiccoughed, screwed up her eyes and struggled with the last bung. Guessing rather than seeing where the liquid was going, she caught it in the goblet while the ghouls howled and shrieked with anger.

  But suddenly she could not drink any more. The stuff smelled like vinegar and she found it abominable.

  “That’s not … wine,” she stammered, about to put down her cup in disgust. “You’ve tricked me.”

  “No, there’s no deceit here, my tap dispenses any drink, my dear,” Altmayer contradicted her. “You must have been wishing for vinegar, I think, so now that cupful you must drink.”

  “Or you fail the whole,” Siebel hissed, “and that means the end for you!”

  Brandner started a rhythmic slow hand-clap. “Drink, Fräulein, drink!” Now they were all egging her on. She could barely bring herself to set the cup to her lips. But there was no choice, unless she wanted to die. And if she died, that would mean death for her brother as well.

  Asa shut her eyes and stood up, and though she staggered around in circles, she drank the revolting liquid, though it ran sour down her throat. Mouthful by mouthful, she swallowed it, right up to the last ghastly drop.

  “She’s done it,” screamed Frosch in horror. “That’s the Devil’s own work!”

  “It can’t be true,” howled Altmayer, pulling out his knife. “It shan’t be true. My knife will make short work of you!”

  Asa forced her eyes open and hurled the goblet at the wall with a laugh. It broke into pieces. She stuck her hands into her pockets and none too elegantly slipped the brass knuckles onto her fingers. “I have passed the test,” she called out in a muffled voice. She could hardly feel her own tongue. That must have been the vinegar. “Now it’s your turn to drink my wine. See how you like what I’m going to serve you.”

  Asa whirled round and crashed both her fists down onto the tabletop.

  The diamonds embedded in the silver brass knuckles flared up, and under the mystic strength of the twin artifacts, the piece of furniture shattered into four segments. Wine gushed out of the ruined wood, flooding the little chamber. It was as if an immense dam had suddenly burst.

  Miraculously, the torrents of wine spared the young woman, but they caught hold of the four ghostly students, spinning them around and forcing them beneath the surface, so that they all drowned.

  “Drink up!” Asa staggered and fell into a chair, laughing, as the maelstrom swirled past with its four ghoulish victims. “Drink up, you rotten …” She toppled over in an alcoholic haze and passed out.

  By the time that Asa woke up again in that room—lying on the floor this time—there was no sign of the students and not even a puddle of wine to be seen. The shattered table, however, was evidence enough that the events of the night had not been entirely normal.

  She got to her feet and found she had neither a raging thirst nor a hangover. The only thing that bothered her was the nasty taste of vinegar that she still had in her mouth.

  “Now tell me not to believe in miracles,” she quoted from Faust, the only line she remembered. She pulled off the sparkling brass knuckles and put them in her pocket as she left the room.

  To her surprise she saw the guard from the Völkerschlacht memorial waiting outside for her. He was still in uniform. “I don’t believe it!” he exclaimed in delight. “You’ve broken the second spell!”

  “You’re stalking me.” Asa walked past him. It was Bathseda’s face she had wanted to see, not his.

  “No, I’m following you,” he corrected swiftly, grasping her arm. “People are saying that you’ve taken up the challenge to
remove the curse that Faust and Mephistopheles laid upon the town. You’ve no idea how long we’ve all been waiting for this!”

  Asa stopped and looked him up and down. “I must get on—to the third test.”

  The guard nodded eagerly. “Of course! I won’t hold you up. My best wishes go with you. All of us, the whole town, we’re all rooting for you.” Asa was about to walk on, but he stopped her once more. “Tell me one thing. How did you come to take up this challenge?”

  “I was forced into doing it,” she replied, giving an honest answer.

  He looked at her in shock. “How could anyone force you to do anything when you are afraid of nothing?”

  “My brother has been kidnapped and I’m to carry out the tasks in exchange for his life.”

  “Oh, no! I have a terrible feeling—” The guard blanched and took two steps backward. “Would the kidnapper’s name be … Barabbas Prince?” She gave no answer, but the truth must have been written all over her face. The man wore a horrified expression. “So that devil has found a way—”

  His words were interrupted by the arrival of Bathseda.

  The man staggered back with a cry as he saw the black-haired woman, and when she turned her gaze on him, he collapsed into a whimpering heap.

  “Come, Asa,” she said, her voice cold as the North Wind. “We have things to do.”

  “But he—”

  “Don’t worry about him.” Bathseda looked at Asa, and this time her face showed relief rather than surprise. She was glad to see the brown-haired girl alive. “We’ll solve the third test.”

  In silence they left Auerbachs Keller, walking up the steps and passing the bronze statues portraying Faustus, Mephistopheles and the students.

  Asa noticed that the sculptor had omitted one of the students. Brandner, Altmayer and Frosch were all represented, larger-than-life and condemned to live on in metal, if not as ghosts, but Siebel had been omitted.

  Bathseda led her out of the shopping mall to where the car was waiting. They climbed into the backseat.

  Without exchanging a word they started off, out of the pedestrian zone, through the center of Leipzig and away from the town.