The Color of Fear

by Billy Phillips

  “We have not the time for regrets, amigo. Just lead the way to the forest. I can’t see a thing through this tall grass.”

  The wind blew hard at Jack’s back. He pulled the tunic from his knight costume off over his head and stretched it between his arms to create a sail. A gust of wind caught the sail and increased his speed. His arm and chest muscles strained as he held the sail firm against the wind and tried to steer. His golden-brown hair whipped around his head as currents of air carried him along.

  He and Prince Alfonzo sailed and hopped toward the forest’s edge until a babbling stream came into view.

  The wind abruptly changed direction. Jack wobbled as his leaf-board began to whirl out of control. He crouched, trying to balance, but the wave of air was too strong. Wipeout! Jack spiraled out of control and landed hard on a burger-size rock, which compared to him, was like a small mountain.

  Jack was pulling his tunic down over his chest again when Alfonzo hopped up to him.

  “Amigo,” Alfonzo whispered, “I would advise a slight detour by way of the stream.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows and pointed straight ahead. “But the forest is right there!”

  Sure enough, only one thing separated Jack and Alfonzo from Zeno’s Forest: a wooden bridge laden with crows.

  “I’m too small to swim in that current,” Jack said. “I’d get swept away. Or eaten by a trout.”

  “Shh … ” whispered Alfonzo. “You need to be careful not to wake the troll.”

  “Troll?”

  The idea of meeting an authentic troll did not delight Jack. Nevertheless, with no other option, he decided to forge ahead on land.

  “You take the stream,” Jack said. “I’ll risk the bridge. We’ll meet on the other side.”

  Alfonzo bowed with a flourish. “You are braver than I, amigo. Till we meet again on the other side … I hope.”

  And with that Alfonzo hopped toward a section of the stream that flowed far from the crows.

  Jack proceeded on foot to the narrow bridge leading to Zeno’s Forest.

  How scary could this troll be, anyway? The black crows napping on the bridge rails don’t seem the least bit afraid of him.

  Jack held his breath. He took a cautious first step onto the edge of the bridge. The crows erupted with caws. Wings flapped. Feathers flew. The blood-eyed birds scattered. They swarmed together under slowly darkening clouds and flapped off in an arrow formation over the tree line of Zeno’s Forest.

  A guttural growl suddenly rose up from beneath the bridge’s deck.

  “Who woke the birds?” a belligerent voice bellowed.

  A giant foot swung out from beneath the bridge. Then another. A colossal, scaly, and callused body followed. Jack hid behind a handrail. He crouched. Then he peered out to see what kind of monumental force he was up against.

  The stink of troll body odor blasted his nostrils.

  The troll in all his horribleness loomed over him. A hulking wad of muscle and muck and machismo. His gray skin had a reptilian, bumpy texture that reminded Jack of a lizard. It appeared to be covered by a crusty layer of green-and-white bird droppings. Daggerlike tusks protruded from his face. Pointy goat horns grew from the top of his head above his ears. Thorny spikes accented his brow.

  And if that wasn’t enough, drool bubbled out from between his swollen lips as he chanted: “Fe, fi, foe, fum. I smell the blood of an Englishman.”

  Jack flinched. “Cheeky fellow.”

  The troll’s giant big toe landed on the edge of the bridge with the impact of a falling tree. He began walking across it. The rotting, wooden slats jumped with each thunderous stomp.

  Wiry hair grew out of his nostrils in an upward curl.

  This bloke’s a minger.

  Strands of nose hair were so long that, if one got close enough, Jack suspected they could be twisted into a fine braid. The curved-up nose hair appeared to be the only thing about this dodgy character that resembled a smile.

  Jack crouched, perfectly still. He needed to get across, but he also needed to not die. His mother had once told him that the best place to hide was in plain sight.

  Jack clambered up the side of the bridge. He took a running start, then jumped right onto the giant’s mountainous snout.

  The hideous troll was stunned. And in that moment, one that seemed to pause and last a lifetime, Jack caught sight of his reflection in a giant, glowing eye. The troll tried to squash Jack like a zit. But Jack was nimble. And he was surely quick. He jumped over the troll’s nostril and dashed across his rugged cheek. The troll, in reflex, walloped himself on the nose, which made his eyes water.

  The troll stumbled and grunted loudly. He swatted at his nose again.

  “I’ll nab you, yet!”

  He stomped his humongous foot.

  “Come out, come out. Come out of my snout.”

  But Jack, of course, was not in his nose.

  He took cover in the troll’s ear, pressing his body flat against the waxy canal. A bitter, dung-like smell assaulted Jack. Hairs brushed against his back and coated his shirt in oily wax. Jack tried to pluck out one of the hairs, but he only came away holding a glob of wax—altogether nauseating.

  The troll tried to jam his stubby fingers in his ear. Too thick.

  Jack wiped his waxen hands on his jeans. He yanked the hair again. He plucked it out! Jack almost hurled.

  “Agh!” screamed the mighty troll.

  The troll tipped his head to the side and boxed himself in the other ear, trying to knock Jack out.

  Jack seized the moment.

  He slid down the giant’s earlobe and, grasping on tightly, kicked the troll’s earring out of its hole.

  “My earring!”

  The troll bent down. He searched for the earring atop the knotty boards of the bridge.

  “Time to bugger off,” Jack muttered. He jammed his arm through the piercing hole and clamped on tightly. He rocked back and forth on the loop of flesh. After three pumps to gain momentum, he let go.

  Jack flew through the air.

  He tumbled hard to the ground. Then he leaped up and ran as fast as he could across the swaying bridge.

  A razor-sharp pain stabbed his leg like a knife. He began to limp severely. A warm, syrupy substance oozed atop his skin.

  He looked down.

  His own fractured bone had sliced through his flesh. The creamy-white tibia protruded between his knee and shin.

  Jack realized he would no longer be running to Zeno’s Forest.

  He would have to hobble his way there.

  The eminent caterpillar, Lord Amethyst Bartholomew, took a hurried sip of tea. Then he set his porcelain cup on top of the faded orange mushroom that served as an end table. A fresh peppermint aroma wafted through the cavern as mint fumes spiraled up from another stick of incense.

  “The Blood-Eyed are closing in,” Amethyst said. “Come closer and sit.” He clasped his hands while Caitlin and the girls hastily found spots to settle near him.

  He whispered in a scratchy voice, “It’s time to reveal the secret of the queen’s power and to learn why Caitlin has been summoned here.”

  At last!

  Everyone leaned in, intrigued.

  “The queen had called upon a devious man of the occult. He knew well the colors of the sun, from which thoughts are born. But as darkness detests light, the Enchanter loathes the sun.”

  Caitlin rubbed the dryness from her eyes. She hadn’t blinked since Amethyst began talking.

  “He gave the queen the dreadful royal scepter and the cursed glasses she wears. The lenses of those glasses are not of this world. They were fashioned out of the Red Spectrum. Without any other color included. Now pay attention: Red is at the opposite end of the color spectrum from violet, and thus the Queen sees everything good as its opposite. She perceives the reverse of reality, the opposite of actuality. Especially when she peers into one’s imagination and heart.”

  Caitlin felt a tingle on her forehead.

  �
�These tools of darkness,” Amethyst continued, “caused this once lovely and honorable lady to become the grim Seeress who now wreaks havoc upon our world. Because of those Red Spectrum lenses, where there was sweetness, the queen perceives bitterness. Where affection bloomed, she senses ill will. Where loyalty remains steadfast, she sees the seeds of rebellion.”

  Natalie nodded to Caitlin. “Sounds like Mr. Gandelmeyer, my old social studies teacher.”

  Caitlin nudged her sister with an elbow.

  “The queen’s vision swept across the kingdoms,” the grand insect said. “She saw people scheming and plotting to overthrow the monarchy while, in fact, they were praying for her well-being and hoping she would regain her true self and identity.”

  Caitlin swallowed, feeling a slight twinge in her heart.

  Natalie tapped her shoulder. “I’m craving buttered popcorn. You?”

  “Shh!” Caitlin whispered.

  “And so it happened,” Amethyst went on, “to weaken and control the masses, the queen waved her scepter skyward. And that’s when something changed in the hues of the burning sun.”

  Lord Amethyst turned to Sleeping Beauty. On his cue, she again took out the crystal prism and held it under the skylight to catch another sunray. A rainbow lit up the cavern.

  “The green wavelengths weakened. This, in turn, brought the weakening of our will.”

  He pointed out the red in the rainbow.

  “The red wavelength magnified. Fear intensified. For there was no will to restrain it.”

  The red color flared just then, as if responding to Amethyst’s words.

  “Unbridled fear has a raging appetite. As it grew, hunger grew … until its appetite included flesh and blood.”

  The hideous cawing of many crows pierced the cavern, sending a cold shiver down Caitlin’s spine.

  Amethyst waved his hand, signaling Sleeping Beauty to lower the prism. He rubbed his chin.

  “The truth is, fear is free and abundant. The Red Spectrum shines all by itself. It comes to us easily. But courage comes hard. The Violet Spectrum must be kindled to shine. It takes effort. That’s the secret of the spectrum.”

  A lump swelled in Caitlin’s throat.

  She avoided nearly everything that frightened her.

  I never stood up for Alicia Saunders!

  She had hid from Piper and her coven in her bathroom stall. She had wimped out. Because it was so easy to. She was mindless, like a zombie. Enslaved to her fear. At least, according to a zombified insect, who was less a zombie than she but far more compassionate to boot. How humiliating.

  “How do you ignite the Violet Spectrum?” Caitlin asked again with wishful eyes.

  Amethyst raised a finger. “That, my child, is for you to discover.”

  “But I need to know now,” Caitlin pleaded.

  Amethyst cocked his head and gave her a withering look.

  “Impatience also comes free and easy,” he said. Caitlin slunk down.

  Amethyst’s tentacles stiffened in alert, as if he sensed something awful about to happen. A split second later a ghastly Blood-Eyed crow swooped out from the tunnel and into the cavern! It squawked like a demon.

  Everyone ducked.

  Caitlin screamed.

  Natalie gasped.

  Cindy leaped up and grabbed a thick throw blanket from the sofa. She flung it over the winged creature. The weight of the blanket sent the crow crumpling to the ground. Cindy jumped on top of it.

  “Be careful you don’t get bitten,” Rapunzel screamed.

  “I’ll bite this Blood-Eyed bird myself,” Cindy replied in outrage. She bundled the blanket up and tied the four corners into a knot. The crow poked and prodded frantically inside.

  Amethyst gestured with his chin toward the chest of drawers. Cindy held the blanket with her arm extended far from her body as she walked to the wood-and-brass cabinet, opened a drawer, and stuffed the blanket inside. She slammed it shut.

  “Check for scratches,” Rapunzel said.

  Cinderella examined the fronts and backs of her forearms and hands. “I’m good.”

  Everyone stood back up—except for Beauty, who was catching another forty winks.

  Amethyst exhaled. He stroked his beard. His soulful eyes fell on Caitlin.

  “All I can tell you, child, is that the secret for kindling the Violet Spectrum is found in the will.”

  “Which we’re desperately short of,” Rapunzel noted.

  Amethyst nodded. “And so the scepter continues to breed fear and stoke this horrid degenerative affliction.”

  Caitlin chewed on the ends of her hair.

  Cindy cocked her head. “Is the queen’s scepter more powerful than the force that brought our worlds into existence?”

  Natalie seemed impressed. “A deep and fundamental question,” she muttered to Caitlin.

  Amethyst cracked a sly smile. Apparently he concurred with Natalie.

  “A most compelling inquiry, Your Grace. The answer—”

  Sleeping Beauty interrupted him. “The Blood-Eyed wolves are on the way,” she said in an ominous tone. There was cold fear in her beautiful, dead eyes. She spoke as if in a trance. Wait—she was in a trance. Beauty was still asleep as the words poured out. “They’ve been called by the crow that detected our royal blood. It was not our fear that gave us away, but our noble courage.”

  Amethyst nodded somberly with each word she spoke. He raised a pointed finger.

  “She speaks truth. The queen is bent on ravaging this world by draining it of every last modicum of courage. Her crows can detect courage and royalty anywhere.” He pointed to the chest of drawers. “That’s exactly how this last ghastly bird found us.”

  The zombie girls exchanged nervous glances. Beauty lay back down for a nap.

  “To return to your question, Your Grace,” Amethyst continued, “the truth is, the scepter has no power over the sun. Darkness is powerless in the presence of light. The Enchanter applied a cunning deception to deceive the queen.”

  Natalie gave an elbow shot to Caitlin. “This insect has an answer for everything. Let’s take him home with us.”

  “Shh!” Caitlin said, elbowing her in the ribs.

  “Like a trick?” Cindy asked.

  Amethyst nodded. “Indeed. The scepter is not some magical instrument or supernatural weapon. And certainly no enchanter is more powerful than the transcendent waves of imagination that are the very fabric of our reality. The Enchanter simply blocked out a portion of the light.”

  “Like a large cumulonimbus,” Natalie stated as she chewed her cucumber.

  “Excuse me?” Cindy intervened.

  Amethyst smiled. “She means to say, like a scattering of dense cloud cover. The scepter created an interference wave that blanketed the atmosphere. And at this moment, it is filtering out the green wavelength of our sun.”

  “Diabolically simple,” Cindy said, shaking her head.

  “To be sure.” Lord Amethyst pointed up.

  “Each new wave of the scepter released another layer of cloud cover, so to speak, in the sky. It continued to thicken until it became so dense it operated just like a blackout curtain. And just like that, our will was vanquished. So, my friends, there is no unearthly curse. No zombie contagion. The sun is still there in its full supernal splendor. There is only an interference pattern. A thick curtain. We just happen to be on the wrong side of it. The red side. However, the royal-blooded among us, though dead, live to fight on. A small remnant of compassion in our hearts strengthens our will.” Lord Amethyst bowed his head graciously to the zombie princesses.

  Then his gaze made a full sweep of the group seated before him.

  “Only the bite of a Blood-Eyed ghoul will turn a human or a royal into a Blood-Eyed—which is how we lost so many of our brave. All the knights. Princes. Kings. Most were bitten during that first battle of the Zombie Wars.”

  Caitlin’s hands went clammy.

  “However, even you royals will not survive another wave of the scept
er. The queen has that planned for tonight. Should it happen, we’ll lose our remaining power to resist the Red Spectrum.”

  Cindy flexed her fingers, then cracked her knuckles. “We’ll snatch the scepter from her.”

  Amethyst shook his head dejectedly. “You’ll never get near it—not even within a few meters.”

  “Why not?” Rapunzel asked.

  “Crows. They can smell the scent of courage and royal blood from vast distances.”

  “Who cares,” Cinderella replied. “We’ll storm that wicked wench and overpower her. I’ll wrestle the scepter from her myself.”

  Rapunzel nodded in agreement as she rolled up her sleeves. “Yeah. Six of us, one of her. I’ll take those odds.”

  Caitlin bit a nail.

  Amethyst waved a dismissive finger.

  Natalie was looking for something else to munch.

  “You’re forgetting about the wolves,” Amethyst said. “They guard her and protect the scepter. As do all the other Blood-Eyed. To get to the queen, you need to be able to get past a kingdom of ghouls without getting bitten.”

  Rapunzel slumped down on a boulder. “Which is impossible.”

  Natalie found a carrot and took a nibble. “Now tell us the bad news.”

  “If that scepter is raised at midnight,” Amethyst replied, “Our eyes will turn as red as the blood we’ll crave.”

  Natalie tossed the carrot aside. “And we’ll all be living the zombie life.”

  The chilling caws of a close murder of crows reverberated into the cavern.

  Caitlin shoved her hands in her pockets to warm them. She heard another grim wail. Or she thought she did. It sounded like the baying of wolves—faint howls that seemed to ring right through the rock of the cavern.

  What had the smart caterpillar said before? Where there were crows, the demonic howls of the wolves followed.

  Her eyes darted around the cave. Had the others heard it too? Or was she imagining it?

  She felt like she was sitting on a butcher block.

  Like a fresh piece of meat about to be eaten.

  There seemed to be no feasible way to get close to the queen so they could snatch the scepter.