Story's End

by Marissa Burt

  “Nice dancing.” Indy did a bad job of stifling his laughter. “Oh wait, is that your partner coming this way?”

  Peter whirled around so fast he felt dizzy. The last thing he wanted was for Esmerelda to trap him again, and then he saw that Indy was making fun of him. “Go ahead and laugh,” Peter said with a scowl. “Where’s Una, anyway? This was her dumb idea to begin with.”

  “I haven’t seen her since she left,” Indy said. “Unless she had such an interested”—Peter didn’t like how he emphasized that word—“partner like you did, I bet she’s already on her way back to Bramble Cottage. Did you learn anything from your new friend?”

  Peter felt his face flush hot. He had been so desperate to get away from Esmerelda, he hadn’t thought to ask her about any castles. Or cemeteries. “Nope,” he said. “What about you?”

  “No one I talked to knew about Jaga’s cemetery,” Indy said. “But the Enchanted Forest is apparently filled with castles; fat lot of good that is.”

  Peter sighed. The Enchanted Forest ran along the east side of the Hollow and stretched for miles. It had a reputation worse than the Hollow, and no reputable character roamed freely there, certainly not at midnight.

  “I wouldn’t mind asking a few more people, though”—Indy nodded toward the lit building in front of them—“if it meant we could get something to eat. I’m starving.”

  They pushed their way into the common room, where a young bard was sitting by the fire playing a song. Indy stopped short in front of a crew of unsavory characters. They were crowded around a masked man.

  “That’s the guy who danced with Una,” Indy said.

  Peter and Indy were trying to decide what to do next, when the man gave them a friendly little wave. The next moment, the rogue himself was next to them, ushering them to a table, scraping up additional chairs, and gesturing to the innkeeper for more food.

  Peter took the chair to the left of the man. Indy pulled his sword from the scabbard on his back, sat down on the right, and laid the blade flat across his knees.

  The masked man glanced down at the blade, but instead of looking threatened, he merely gave Indy an encouraging smile. “You can call me Kai,” he said as the innkeeper served them. “You’re Una’s friends, aren’t you?”

  Peter and Indy exchanged glances. “Is Una still here?” Peter asked at the same time as Indy said, “Where’s the nearest cemetery?”

  Kai smiled lazily at them. “You young people and your cemeteries. Una left for home not long ago, and I imagine she’s arriving there as we speak.”

  Kai answered all of their questions, but not in a very satisfactory way. Peter had the distinct impression he wasn’t taking them seriously, that he thought cemeteries and castles were a big joke. Yes, Kai knew of many castles around the Hollow, but none very nice to visit. Yes, of course, there were cemeteries in the Hollow, and some of them were lovely to visit. No, Una hadn’t seemed in any trouble when she left, but he rather thought she was a capable girl. She might have said something about a place called Bramble Cottage. And he had asked her to dance because she wanted to dance. He shoveled in a heaping mouthful of stew after he said all this, and Peter found he had run out of questions. It seemed that Una was long gone, probably already tucked up in Trix’s kitchen.

  Kai called the bard over, and the other Villains were soon bickering about which song should be performed next. A sorcerer asked Kai something about the tune he had used to fiddle his way past the ogre at Falls Landing. The innkeeper was listening intently, and a group of curious onlookers had gathered around their table. Whatever Peter thought of Kai, the Hollow folk clearly worshipped him.

  Indy leaned in close and whispered to Peter, “I think we should tell Kai.”

  “Tell Kai what?” Peter asked.

  “About the Enemy.” Indy was leaning in so close that Peter could see the firelight reflected in his dark eyes.

  “You think he’ll believe it?” Peter asked.

  “I think he’ll more than believe it,” Indy said. “I think he’ll help us.

  When the bard began his next song, Peter saw his opportunity. “Kai”—he beckoned the man closer—“we have something important to tell you.”

  “You are serious for one so young.” Kai steepled his fingers and looked at Peter over them. “Don’t worry about Una.” He tapped his thumbs together. “She seemed ready for an adventure.”

  “It’s not about Una or about having adventures.” Indy bent forward across the table. “It’s about finding the right adventure.” Indy shot Peter a look as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Did you know that Story has a great Enemy? And that this Enemy is even now plotting Story’s ruin?”

  “Is that so?” Kai gave a low whistle, and leaned back in his chair.

  Indy told Kai about the Enemy’s return, then handed him a folded-up broadside from his pocket.

  When Kai had finished reading, he looked up.

  “We think he’s looking for the Lost Elements.” Peter explained what they had discovered so far.

  “And how do you plan to stop him, lads?” He pricked a finger on Indy’s sword point. “Run him through with that?” He wiped the drop of blood off with his thumb. “You boys are serious enough to try it, I’d wager.”

  Peter didn’t like the way Kai’s words sounded like he was laughing at them. The Enemy was no laughing matter. “And what about you, Kai? Are you serious enough to do anything?” Peter swept a hand out over the table of overfed Villains. “Will you stay here feasting or will you help us?”

  Kai threw back his head and laughed. “I’d like nothing better.” One minute he looked like a cat drowsing by the fire; the next he was up, cloaked, bow and arrows strapped on, and traveling sack slung over one shoulder. He offered a hand to Peter. “But only so long as helping you means an interesting adventure for me.”

  Peter didn’t see how he could promise Kai that, but he got to his feet anyway. Indy slid his sword back into its sheath and stood.

  “Do you think I could pass for a lad?” Kai interrupted the two women at the next table. “Without this, of course.” He swept the feathered hat off his head and tucked it under his arm. He slid the black mask off, and rubbed at the skin around his eyes.

  “You can pass for whatever you want to, Kai,” the witch said, and grinned at the pretty enchantress sitting next to her.

  Kai bent low and whispered something to the enchantress, who looked up at Peter and blew him a kiss. Peter felt the heat on his face until Kai’s bony elbow in his ribs drove it from him. Without the disguise, Kai did look remarkably young. His nut-brown skin had a few fine lines, but he was the same height and build as Indy.

  “It’s very late,” Peter said as he pushed the front door open and led the way into the night. “Maybe we should go home and sleep first.”

  “I believe that you promised me an adventure.” Kai tossed his hat up into the air. “And by adventure, I mean something interesting. Stirring things up among those boring old Talekeeper farts for starters.” He caught the hat and swooped it back onto his head. “I hear the Tale Master himself is making a big announcement in the morning. Do you have any more of those papers?”

  Peter hesitated and then did the unthinkable. “What do you say?” he asked Indy. “Should we make sure Una got home okay?”

  “Una’s not a foolish girl. And she doesn’t always need a hero.” Indy looked between Kai and Peter. “If Elton’s giving a big speech, it’s the perfect place to hand out the broadsides.”

  Peter scowled. He knew he shouldn’t have asked for Indy’s advice.

  “Aw, don’t worry about your friend,” Kai said, spreading his arms out wide. “The girl will be fine. She’s a smart lass, and she could dance well enough. Besides, she won’t have much of a Tale if we don’t leave her to sort it all out herself, will she?”

  Peter didn’t waste much time deliberating. Once Una arrived at Bramble Cottage, she would tell the Resistance members about the Lost Elements, and the grown-ups would
take charge. When she discovered he had been out this late, Peter’s mother would have him scrubbing the whole house for sure. No more helping the Resistance. No more looking for Elements. No more adventure. Peter tightened his belt, checked that his sword was strapped properly, and hurried to catch up to Kai and Indy.

  Chapter 10

  The cemetery gate moved on protesting hinges, but Una finally wedged it open enough to squeeze through. Una had always liked cemeteries. She had spent hours drifting between churchyard stones, reading the inscriptions and wondering about the forgotten histories of those buried under them.

  But this graveyard was not meant for wandering. The brick wall enclosed a square plot that had been overtaken by a shiny purplish plant covering everything but the tombstones. The black onyx markers seemed to suck in what little light the night offered, and, even though the moon was nearly full, it was very dark behind the cemetery walls. Una reached into her cloak and pulled out Jaga’s key.

  She could have found Peter and Indy first, but Kai’s comment had got her thinking. Sure, it was dangerous, but that wasn’t any reason not to go. Besides, if she found out something important, maybe she would also find the courage to tell them all what she had done back in Alethia’s garden. And she needed some time alone before she’d be ready to do that.

  Una followed the crumbling brick wall. Where was the door? Jaga’s key hadn’t fit in the iron gate, so unless Kai was wrong, there was another door. Someone had erected a sinister-looking angel over a cobwebby vault. Una gave it a wide berth, and that was when she found it.

  The marker looked like a pile of tottering stones, barely anything worth stopping for, but Una felt a quickening inside that she couldn’t ignore. Besides, the key was growing hot in her hands, heat radiating through her palm, as though it knew it was close to where it belonged. She walked around the stone cairn and stopped.

  Creeping ivy had covered most of the door, making it nearly unrecognizable from the bricks that surrounded it. Una bent closer, brushing the foliage out of the way with the tip of her dagger. There seemed to be carvings on the door, made out of some yellowed stone, but it was too dark for Una to make them out. The key slid into an ancient-looking hole with a click, and Una gave it a fierce twist. The door opened a crack, and a gust of dry wind whirled around her. Una gritted her teeth as she pushed hard on the door with her shoulder and made her way through. The wind was stronger now, and it plastered Una’s hair to her forehead. She was in a tunnel of some sort, and pale, silvery moonlight filtered through the branches that covered the tunnel’s exit. Once Una passed through them, she found herself on a path that zigzagged up a steep hill. Over the top, a long walk away, she could see the outline of a lone turret.

  This is it. It had to be Duessa’s castle. Una was in enemy territory now, and she wouldn’t leave until she had discovered the Enemy’s plans. My father’s plans.

  Tangled vines grew thicker here, and the path soon disappeared, but Una kept walking in the general direction of the castle. The way was steep, and soon Una’s muscles burned with the continual effort of climbing. From somewhere up ahead, the sound of rushing water grew louder, and Una guessed there might be a river close by.

  She angled left, but she hadn’t gone very far before she heard the sound of movement in the undergrowth. Someone was coming. She ducked behind the shelter of an old willow and peered out from the veil of brittle leaves. A red-cloaked figure moved silently through the forest. The Red Enchantress. Una stood motionless as she watched Duessa. My mother. Soon, she was nearly out of sight, a muted spot of color in the black and gray of the woods.

  Una hesitated for only a moment before tiptoeing after Duessa’s retreating form. This was what she had come for, after all. The Enchantress’s red robes swirled around her as she made her way over the twisted foliage. Una blinked back unexpected tears. The closer she got to Duessa, the more she wanted to meet her mother. She pictured her eyes, the moment their hands had touched in Alethia’s garden.

  Una stopped behind a thick tree and peered out. Her throat felt tight. What would she say if circumstances had been different? If her mother had been someone like Mrs. Merriweather? Hello, Mother. The words felt foreign, like reading aloud a name she didn’t quite know how to pronounce.

  The red cloak was in a constant state of movement, the fabric rippling behind Duessa as she walked. Una was careful to stay out of sight, to move only when Duessa moved, to creep along from tree to tree. Which was why she wasn’t prepared when Duessa whirled around and pointed her raised arms at the spot where Una was hiding.

  “Show yourself,” Duessa commanded.

  Chapter 11

  A branch slapped across Snow’s cheek, but she couldn’t slow down. Her mother was setting a fast pace, despite her wounded feet, and the madman stumbled next to her, pointing the way through the thick underbrush. The Red Enchantress’s castle was situated at the top of a hill, and the first route they had taken had led to the edge of a scorched field. “Too open,” her mother had said as they retraced their steps. The ground they now traveled angled down toward a densely wooded valley. Snow supposed there might have been a view to her left, where the land dropped off, but the mist and the blackness of the night made it impossible to see very far into the distance.

  “Is this the way home?” Snow asked her mother as they came to the edge of the forest.

  “No,” her mother said absently as she scanned the woods. “We have to go somewhere else first.”

  “What?” Snow stopped running. “What can be more important than getting out of here and going somewhere safe?”

  The madman was hopping up and down on one foot, muttering something about a dog sailing on the ocean.

  “Finding the Enchanted Swamp,” Snow’s mother said. “It’s not very far from here.”

  “No way,” Snow said to her mother’s back. “Why in the world would we go there?” Snow had never been to the Swamp, and she would be fine with it staying that way.

  “There’s something we need to get,” her mother said in a weary voice. She looked at Snow over the top of the madman’s head. “Something Fidelus and Duessa want.”

  At first Snow thought she meant the Taleless, but then she realized what her mother was talking about. “You mean the Scroll of—”

  “Not now, Snow,” her mother said, eyeing the madman, whose sailor dog was now eating oranges.

  “Seriously?” Snow asked. “You’re worried about him?”

  “People aren’t always what they appear to be.” Her mother seemed to have decided on a path. “Let’s just say, the less we speak, the better, hmmm?”

  “Okay,” Snow said as she followed her into the darkness of the forest. “But how do you know about”—she paused—“the thing everyone’s looking for?”

  The madman twisted hard and took two steps away from them.

  “I said not now,” Snow’s mother said through clenched teeth as she caught him in an iron grip.

  The madman began to beg, assaulting her with so much flattery that Snow found herself laughing in spite of Duessa’s castle towering on the hill behind them. She had never heard anyone call her mother a “lovely little flower” before. When he realized that wouldn’t work, he began to threaten her.

  “Milady will kill you, see if she doesn’t.” He squinted at Snow. “Start with your girl first, perhaps.” His mouth twisted down at the corners. “Hot steel can burn more places than just feet.”

  “Maybe you can instruct me in the technique,” her mother said with the tiniest of smiles. “When I begin to work on you.” She wrapped her hand around his neck and gave it a slight squeeze.

  Snow knew her mother had been missing for thirteen years, that she had lived in the Enchanted Forest and learned whatever it was that qualified her to be the Villainy professor at Perrault. But Snow had always thought the biggest mystery about her was why she had abandoned her infant daughter. Snow had been wrong. There was a lot she didn’t know about her mother, and, for the first time, Snow
felt she might be okay with that. The only thing worse than being captured by the bad guys would be to discover that you were actually on the side of the bad guys.

  “Don’t.” Snow didn’t want to see her mother choke anyone, even the crazy old man.

  Her mother stopped and let the madman squat down on the rocky terrain. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and he was wild eyed. “Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.” He darted glances in several directions as though enemies surrounded them. “I know things. Things that will help you.”

  Her mother circled behind the man’s cowering form as she spoke. “You have told us nothing.” She stopped in front of him and used one finger to tilt his chin up so she could examine his neck, as though he were an animal she was about to slaughter. “You live only because you may prove useful.” She ran the back of her hand gently across his neck, and the man whimpered. “You will not try to run away again.”

  “Stop it!” Snow was surprised to hear her own voice sound so strong. “He’s doing what you said. He’s coming with us. Why do you have to keep torturing him?”

  Her mother released the man and eyed Snow speculatively. “You pity him.” The madman looked up at Snow with hopeful eyes and gave her a grin. Shiny threads of spittle stretched from the corners of his mouth. It was disgusting.

  “Don’t be foolish, Snow,” she hissed. “You do not know who we are dealing with.” Her mother leaned in close and whispered in Snow’s ear. “You think I am enjoying this? That I like to see another creature’s fear?” She sounded like a different woman. “Do you think so little of me, Snow?”

  When Snow didn’t answer, her mother shook her head slowly. Her voice grew hard. “It doesn’t matter. This madman, pitiable though he may be, dangerous though he certainly is, has lived for a long time in Duessa’s lands. What he knows of the Enchanted Forest may mean the difference for us between life and death.”