Of Enemies and Endings

by Shelby Bach

  “What did you wish for?” Chase said coldly.

  Adelaide choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry. I really am.”

  I was missing something.

  “You just forgot about me when you started hanging out with Rory,” Adelaide told Chase. “I thought if we just spent more time together, if we dated, you might—” She sobbed for real, and Chase recoiled, disgust all over his face.

  “Oh my gumdrops,” Lena whispered, glancing at me.

  Chase turned my way too. His stare was so hard and furious that it pierced through my numbness. “I told you something was wrong with me.”

  Oh no. Chase never remembered asking her out. He didn’t know how he’d gotten to dinner with her parents. He’d said she had power over him.

  Adelaide had wished Chase was her boyfriend. She wished that he would come with her on whatever stupid outing she thought up. She’d wished it over and over again. None of this had been Chase’s fault.

  My mouth fell open, but nothing came out. “Sorry” didn’t seem to cover it. He had come to me for help, and I had been too angry to even listen to him.

  “Take her away,” said the Director quietly. “Her apartment will be fine until her parents come for her.”

  Mangled metal dummies stepped up alongside Adelaide now. She didn’t put up a fight. She walked away between them, still weeping.

  Such a stupid thing to cause the fall of Ever After School—one stupid crush from one stupid, lonely girl.

  The Director turned to Chase. “Come to my office. We need to go over everything you may have heard in your dream.”

  “Sure, let’s chat. It’s not like I need the sleep,” Chase said.

  A few smirks flickered on our friends’ faces.

  But they didn’t know Chase the way I did. They didn’t notice the disappointment that shuttered his face. They didn’t realize what it cost him—to wish for so long for a Tale, and to finally get this one.

  He didn’t even glance at me when the Director led him away. Lena was right. A first kiss could change everything, but not always for the better. Chase might not have minded having one in his Tale, but he’d definitely wanted to be the one doing the kissing. He’d wanted to be the one who’d pulled off the daring rescue.

  The crowd thinned. Everyone else was leaving too.

  “We need scouts at the portals,” Sarah Thumb said, flying after the Director. “We’ll need to know when she moves again, so we can sound the alarm.”

  Rumpelstiltskin followed them, carrying away the current volume. “But do we remember where the portals are?”

  Jenny and George helped Lena step forward. “I know where the portals are,” Lena said, sounding woozy. “I have to tell Rumpel. I saw all the maps when I was searching for the one to the Arctic Circle.”

  Her photographic memory. It saved us again.

  But her grandmother didn’t want to hear about it. “Shh, we’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you home first.”

  Limping toward her house, Lena didn’t look back, and I couldn’t speak.

  It was so much worse that the last attack on EAS, when the Snow Queen had poisoned the Fey fudge pies at the feast. We had all pulled together then. We hadn’t left each other until we figured out a solution.

  This time, we just melted into our homes and tended to our own wounds. If the Snow Queen struck again, if she attacked the human world right then, I didn’t think we could organize ourselves enough to fight. That was exactly what Solange wanted.

  “Rory?” I felt a hand on my shoulder. Mom’s worry was plastered all over her face. Beyond her were Amy and, all in a cluster, Dad, Brie, and Dani. Their expressions matched Mom’s.

  “It’ll be okay, sweetie,” Mom said, hugging me, but I didn’t see how.

  Mom sent me to bed early that evening. I didn’t think I could sleep with the threat of another invasion looming over us, but I’d underestimated how exhausted I was.

  When I fell asleep, the door flooded my dreams again, all the details in place. The ancient black wood, the grain etched with frost. The Snow Queen’s symbol—a swirl of silver—over the doorknob. My breath hanging in the air, a tiny white cloud, deep within the bowels of Solange’s palace.

  This time, though, it wasn’t the cold that bothered me, or the mystery of what was on the other side of the door, or even the burden of the world’s fate on my shoulders.

  It was knowing I had to face the end of my Tale, and I had to face it alone. No one would help me. The Snow Queen had taken everyone from me.

  I woke up, shouting. Panic throbbed in my chest.

  I needed to find that door. We were running out of time. But the Snow Queen was waiting for me by now. I could die trying to get through it, and I still had no idea what was on the other side.

  Mom must have heard me yell. She came in, sat on my bed, and put her arms around me.

  I curled into her. My whole body was shaking, and my tongue felt clumsy. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix it.”

  She didn’t say I was too young to be putting so much pressure on myself. She didn’t tell me I should let the grown-ups handle it. She knew better now.

  The only grown-up who might have known what to do was gone. She couldn’t help me anymore.

  “No one knows how to fix everything,” Mom whispered. “We can only keep moving in the right direction. You just need to figure out what the next step is.”

  I had to figure out what was behind that door. That was the next step.

  Amy woke me up the next morning. “You have a visitor.” She was in her pajamas, so whoever had come to the door had woken her up too.

  It all came to me in a flash. The portals. The Snow Queen. I rolled out of bed and barreled out of my bedroom, snatching up the sword and belt hanging from my doorknob. Mom must have returned it the night before without me noticing.

  But it wasn’t an emergency. Adelaide sat on our couch in a pretty yellow dress, her long hair hanging in a perfectly smooth blond curtain. Her eyes were as huge as Lena’s and very puffy, like she’d cried most of the night.

  “Um,” I said, wondering if I was still dreaming. An evil fairy dummy and a witch dummy waited beside the door. Her guards.

  “I’m leaving,” she said. “This morning, before everyone’s up. I’m not allowed to come back.”

  I glanced at Mom and Amy, who were standing in the kitchen. They looked confused too. “Okay . . . ,” I said.

  “I know I got off easy. My parents made a deal with the Canon,” Adelaide said in a rush, like she expected me to interrupt her. “I’ll be traveling to the other chapters and telling them what happened here. That was my idea. I want to tell them how they could be next. I want to convince them to fight for us. It would be nice to do something that’s actually helpful,” she added with her usual sarcasm.

  “Adelaide, why are you here?” I said.

  For the first time, she looked lost. “None of the others would listen to me, and you’re the only one Chase listens to.”

  I had every right to throw her out. Even if I set aside everything she’d done this summer, she’d never been nice to me. I didn’t owe her anything.

  “Where are your parents?” Mom said, like she couldn’t believe Adelaide was alone.

  “They’re waiting for me at the European Chapter of Ever After School,” Adelaide said dismissively, but the corners of her mouth turned down. They hadn’t come for her, and she’d wanted them to.

  No wonder she’d always liked Chase. They had so much in common.

  I pitied her. She’d convinced me to kiss Chase and break his enchantment as soon as she realized she couldn’t. She was one of the last pieces of Rapunzel left in the world. So I sat down. I waited for whatever she’d come to say.

  Adelaide clasped her hands tightly in front of her, trying hard to hide her trembling. Before yesterday, I hadn’t realized she did that too. “I knew it was wrong to use the coin on Chase, but I thought it would be okay in the end.” I bet she had though
t if they were together for a while, Chase would eventually start to like her back. “I wanted him to like me so much. I didn’t care how it happened. I didn’t think too hard about the coin. But he got hurt. So many people got hurt.” She wasn’t crying, but she was close. “I’m so sorry. I won’t ever stop being sorry, for the rest of my life.”

  This was what made the Snow Queen so terrible. She found out what you wanted most, and she used it against you.

  Adelaide did care about Chase. That had never been the problem. It was that she wanted to be with him more than anything else, even more than she wanted Chase to be happy. That was probably how the Snow Queen had cared for Rapunzel, too. Maybe it ran in the family.

  The bells clanged. We were pretty far from the courtyard, so someone had to be ringing them as hard as they could. And they just kept ringing.

  The alarm. The second invasion.

  “It wasn’t me this time, I swear!” Adelaide said, but I didn’t waste any more time on her.

  The Snow Queen was coming for the human world. She would attack while we were still reeling from the last battle, before we could figure out how to stop her. That must have been her plan all along.

  I didn’t bother putting on real clothes. Or even shoes. I just grabbed my sword again, threw open the door, and burst out of the apartment. I flew down the hall, dodging the few people brave enough to venture out of their homes.

  The courtyard was still dark. I stumbled in the snow, which had definitely not melted overnight. My toes immediately ached with cold. I searched the courtyard for the problem. The men on duty had thrust their spears in the faces of the intruders—a bunch of short, stout men with huge beards—but they weren’t attacking. Their arms were crossed over their chests, with their hands clapped on their own shoulders. Their lances and axes lay at their feet. They didn’t look too pleased with the welcome wagon, either. At least they were dressed for the snow. They all wore skins.

  The two shortest ones had capes of white fur. Like the skin of a polar bear.

  Oh.

  “It’s okay! Stand down,” I told the guards quickly. I hurried through the snow, which clung to my pajama bottoms, and I swept a curtsy, trying not to wobble. “Welcome, Prince Ignatius and Princess Imelda of the Living Stone Dwarves.”

  “They would probably feel more welcome if you didn’t use their full names.” Forrel smiled at me from the back of the group. He had a beard now, with gray threaded through it. He looked like he hadn’t slept a day since April.

  “Yes, and no bowing, please. We’re past that, I think,” said Princess Ima, sounding a lot like her big sister. Her brother hastily straightened out of his bow.

  “Hopefully, we aren’t past explanations,” said the Director, emerging from the orange door. She hadn’t stopped long enough for full armor either. Just her rose-engraved shield.

  “Do we need one?” asked Princess Ima.

  “The Frog Prince sent us word. If we extend our alliance, the bearer of the Unwritten Tale will help us reclaim our homeland,” said Iggy, and every dwarf head swiveled to me.

  That Canon meeting had been ages ago. “I can only help. I can’t guarantee anything.” I couldn’t even be sure I would live through the next few days.

  “We do not need guarantees,” said the prince. “Help is more than the dwarves have ever had from the Canon.”

  Ima rolled her eyes. “What he really means is we’ve been itching for an excuse to join you Characters, and the message Forrel got helped us convince our father.”

  “Does the offer still stand?” Forrel asked the Director.

  “Of course it stands,” said the Director. “However, I would like to speak with Henry myself and find out why he didn’t mention he could send a message to you. He told me he didn’t know where you were.”

  “I would like to meet the Frog Prince,” said Forrel. “He knew my father.”

  Everyone’s attention was on the Director and the dwarves. No one else noticed the blond girl walking between two metal dummies toward the cobalt blue door. Before she stepped into the European chapter of EAS, she turned back to look at me.

  Her face didn’t say sorry. It was too fierce. It said, You better take care of him, Rory.

  I nodded once, very slowly. Adelaide nodded back and let the guards escort her through the door.

  The sun rose and failed to melt the snow. The emptiness Hansel and Rapunzel’s deaths had caused yawned even wider. I tried not to let myself get angry, like I had the day before. Instead, work kept me numb.

  The entire morning was full of new allies. I ran home to put on some boots and armor, and then helped them settle in. The dwarf twins ducked back into Muirland to tell their dad the alliance was on, and by the time they got back—with practically a whole city of dwarves for us to house—King Oberon had also arrived with his knights. The Seelie still couldn’t fight, but they promised to join the second their prince and queen were freed. More and more Fey trickled in through the Atlantis and Avalon doors. A small convoy from the Gnomes of Shining Waters showed up, asking if we would promise to help them resettle secretly in their lost lands just like we were helping the Dwarves of Living Stone. Then some red caps came with the same request.

  Eventually, the courtyard bustled with other Characters trying to pitch in wherever they could. Every time I emerged from the apartments to guide more allies to their rooms, I ran into someone with news.

  Hurrying toward the infirmary with more bandages, Jenny told me Gretel had found the Water of Life under her bed, at her home in Cleveland. It was in huge jugs, with a note from Rapunzel, explaining how she had switched them. “Rapunzel saved a lot of lives last night,” she added softly.

  When I was helping a gnome as old and gnarled as the mother of the four Winds with her pack, Sarah Thumb flew by. “It took us a while to get past Mrs. Lamarelle, but Lena helped Rumpel redraw the maps last night. We have an eleventh grader and a twelfth grader posted at every major portal. We’ll know the second the Snow Queen decides to strike.”

  Ellie couldn’t bear to tell me her news. She just let me read the list of the deceased before she took it to the Director. Besides Rapunzel, we lost one Fey knight, two elves, a dozen adult Characters, a dozen and a half parents, and five kid Characters. One of them was Kenneth. He got flamed protecting some fourth graders from three dragons. The chasm inside me grew a little wider.

  My voice came out steady, but it didn’t sound like mine. It was too flat. “Anything else?”

  I expected Ellie to tell me about a few more grisly injuries, but what she said was even worse. “The Seelie Fey told the Director that the other witch clans joined the Snow Queen. Rescuing the Wolfsbane clan won them over. According to Chase, the Snow Queen ordered them to cast the technology-stopping spell and this one.” She pointed at the snow crunching under foot.

  Ugh. The spell that turned summer into winter. She loved that spell. “Thanks, Ellie.”

  She nodded grimly and swerved around a squadron of dwarves, and I went to look for Chase. I’d seen him around, helping out, but we hadn’t spoken. Even after this summer, it was weird hearing what he thought from other people, instead of hearing from Chase himself.

  I spotted him beside the brick house where General Searcaster had dropped the Tree of Hope. He was speaking to the Director and some Fey refugees, a bedraggled family with two very young children still in diapers. He spoke to most of the Fey, even though only the knights who wanted to learn Itari sought him out. I could tell even from far away that something was wrong with him. It wasn’t the injury. Gretel had spared some of the Water to heal his broken arm. The Director had wanted him in fighting shape. This went deeper than the wishing coin’s enchantment, and at first, I couldn’t figure it out. He was totally polite and courteous. The Fey family never bristled at him. The Director never yelled at him. That wasn’t normal, but that wasn’t the worst of it either. His face was completely blank when he spoke, just as still and controlled as it had been during the quest through Atlant
is.

  I kept watching him, even after the Fey and the Director left.

  He looked empty, but not the grief-hollowed kind. All his Chaseness was gone, as if he’d never really woken up from the sleeping spell. He was just going through the motions, acting like the perfect little Fey-human ambassador and unwilling spy the Director wanted him to be. It hurt me to watch him be less than he was.

  He could have handled one of them. I was sure of that. If he’d just been enchanted by Adelaide’s wishing coin, or he’d just gotten a disappointing wait-to-be-rescued Tale, or if he’d actually managed to turn the battle around, he would have shrugged it off and kept going. But all three at once was too much.

  I started toward him. I didn’t know what I’d say, but I needed to talk to him.

  He noticed me walking across the courtyard. He stared at me with that terrible, empty face. Then he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

  I didn’t follow.

  hat afternoon, a small crowd gathered near the Tree of Hope. Last time I had seen the Tree, it had still been on the roof of that brick house. If it was back in the ground, someone must have moved it. They must have also reattached the roots, because it stood as straight and tall as it had before the invasion.

  I didn’t see why everyone seemed so pleased about it. The Tree looked awful. Soot blackened its trunk. Very few branches still snaked down to the ground and then back to the sky. Most of them had fallen off. Many had been charred. Only two limbs had any green leaves left on them, and even those drooped, wilted and unhealthy.

  I skimmed the area for anyone who might have answers, and I spotted two elves standing beside a clump of excited sixth graders. I threaded my way through the crowd.

  Rufus was clearly thrilled about the poor broken Tree, and a few steps later, I could hear what he was saying. “. . . already impressive as a magician. But to lose her hands . . .” He whistled. “Once she learns how to control all that magic, she’ll be unstoppable. She’s probably almost as powerful as the Snow Queen.”