Of Enemies and Endings

by Shelby Bach

  “But there’s no time for her to learn control,” said Kefmin mournfully. “Gretel asked Lena to move the Tree, not put it back where it was. Do you think the Triumvirate has any chance—”

  They noticed me. Kefmin gawked, clearly shocked that he’d been caught talking about us.

  But I couldn’t care less. I was too focused on the other thing he’d said. “Lena did this?”

  Rufus nodded. “The Director wanted to get it off the roof. She asked us”—he pointed to himself and Kefmin—“to start chopping it up and hauling it away. She said she wanted the reminder of last night out of the courtyard.”

  That sounded like the Director. “And she thought she should put a new sorceress to work right away?” I said, a little ticked off.

  “We cleared the area,” said Kefmin, mildly offended. “In case Lena lost control and dropped it on someone.”

  Control and aim weren’t the problem. Lena has always liked to challenge herself.

  “Lena didn’t even need Gretel to teach her,” said Rufus proudly. “She knows all these spells. She has been a magician for years. She said, ‘Up, Tree’ and the Tree sailed up.”

  “And that’s where it landed,” said Kefmin, a lot less excited. “She passed out approximately six seconds after that.”

  “She’s fine. She just used too much magic,” Rufus explained, seeing my face and the panic that must have blazed across it. “The Director sent her back to bed to sleep it off.”

  I was already backing away. The Tree forgotten, refugees suddenly unimportant, I sprinted over to her house and up her steps, throwing myself at the knocker.

  Mrs. LaMarelle answered the door with a smile. She wouldn’t have been so cheerful if Lena wasn’t okay. A little bit of my panic eased. “You too? Nothing like a fainting spell after a close call to bring friends running. Don’t wear her out, you hear me? Ten minutes is all you get. Otherwise I’ll need to steal some more Water to revive Lena.”

  I recognized Chase’s voice from all the way down the stairs, and I heard Kyle’s when I reached the second floor.

  I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I didn’t need to. The second I opened the door, they all went quiet. For one split second, Lena looked as trapped and terrified as she had when we’d gotten stuck in the Searcasters’ bread box during her Tale. Kyle’s face clearly said, How much did she overhear?

  Chase didn’t even turn my way.

  They’d been talking about me.

  “Hey,” I said. A solid opener.

  “I’m really feeling much better,” Lena said. She was in bed, her new hands resting on top of the covers.

  Maybe I should have just scuttled back out and let them finish their conversation. Maybe I should have—

  But Chase pushed himself off the wall. “Kyle, we gotta go take care of that thing.” Wow. He didn’t even want me to know what he was working on. He slipped out the door, staring over my head, sending the I need my space signals loud and clear.

  Kyle loped after him, obviously feeling as awkward as I was. He paused in the doorway just long enough to smile at Lena. “See ya.”

  “Have you talked to him yet?” Lena said the second we heard the front door open. I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I had to. Chase clearly didn’t want to speak with me. “You have to talk to each other.”

  “It’s you I came to see,” I said lightly. I couldn’t force him to do anything. That was what Adelaide had done.

  “It’s what the Snow Queen wanted. She wanted to weaken the Triumvirate—she wanted . . .” Lena stared down at her lap, at her golden fingers.

  The Snow Queen and General Searcaster had wanted to kill her.

  “Did you get your letter yet?” Lena suddenly asked. I stared at her, wondering why she wanted to talk about random mail at a time like this.

  “From Rapunzel,” Lena added.

  “Rapunzel left letters?” I said.

  If she’d left me one, it would tell me what I needed to do to defeat the Snow Queen. It would tell me what was behind the door in my dreams.

  “Melodie found mine when she went back to the workshop for supplies.” Lena nodded at her nightstand. An envelope rested there, and Lena’s name curled across its front. Rapunzel’s handwriting was old-fashioned, full of loops and whirls and flourishes no one bothered with anymore. When she’d learned to write, alone in her tower, she’d had a lot of extra time to kill. “Chase and Sarah Thumb found theirs shoved under their front doors. Henry found his tied to his cane with a silver ribbon. The Director’s was actually in the pocket of the dress she put on this morning. Apparently, that upset her, but I think it’s kind of funny.” She looked at me expectantly.

  “I didn’t find one.” I wondered why. The other letters had been easily discovered.

  “You can read mine if you want. She says the tower belongs to me now,” Lena explained, before I even asked. “She says I can use it as my very own workshop. She . . . she said she knows how difficult the choice was—whether to become the new Rapunzel or to let yourself die.” Lena’s voice quivered a little. Without thinking, I reached out and touched the back of her hand. The metal was as warm as her skin used to be. “She said it might be even harder for me, because I have to deal with becoming a sorceress, too. She said she at least had a little warning. . . .”

  I was suddenly desperate to cheer her up. I would do anything.

  Lena added, “She said you would probably lend me the light she gave you. Examining it might make a good distraction.”

  I had it with me. Actually, I had my entire carryall. I wanted to be prepared whenever the Snow Queen struck. I unzipped the front pocket, slid the glass vial out, and wrapped Lena’s hand around it.

  When I let go, she only barely managed to snag its chain before it crashed to the floor. “Thanks. Sorry,” she added. “These hands take some getting used to.” She set the glass vial on the table with extra concentration.

  We were quiet for a moment. I was wondering if it would be totally insensitive for me to tell her about Adelaide’s visit, considering everything she’d just been through, but then she said, “Kyle kissed me.”

  I had not been expecting that. “What? Just now?”

  “Before Chase came in.” Lena’s eyes filled with tears. I hadn’t expected that reaction either. “He came to see me, and he took my hand, and he told me how awful it was, to see me like that, so hurt, and to not be able to do anything about it. Then he kissed me.”

  It was her first kiss too. Hers was so simple, so nice, so free of wishing-coin girlfriends and sleeping enchantments and the Snow Queen’s traps. I’d seen the look Kyle had given her from the doorway. She knew where she stood with him.

  Lena lifted her hands from the covers. Her golden palms caught the sunlight through her window. For a second they seemed to glow. “And the whole time, I kept thinking about how I’ll never feel him holding my hand.”

  “Oh, Lena,” I breathed. It was such a minor detail in The Livves & Tymes of Sorcerers & Sorceresses. I’d completely forgotten it. When magic regrew a limb, it didn’t usually grow back the nerve endings.

  “I’m happy to be alive. I can’t ever repay Rapunzel for saving me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “But you never realize how much you feel around for stuff until you can’t anymore. I almost broke my glasses this morning, searching my nightstand for them. And being part of the Canon? Well, I never thought I would get stuck looking fourteen for the rest of my life. I already look a little young for my age. I’m going to be such a freak.”

  I didn’t take her hand—I knew she wouldn’t feel it. I squeezed her shoulder.

  So much for a simple kiss. Sometimes I was a terrible friend.

  “Plus, solid-gold hands are heavy. My arms are so sore, and it’s not like I can put them down for a rest.” Lena sat up and wiped her face on her shoulder. “I really don’t want to go to tonight’s Canon meeting.” I resisted the urge to ask if she was serious. A meeting with all its boring reports and all the Director’s sn
iping seemed like the last thing EAS needed. “They want me to swear a Binding Oath. The Director is going to order me to make stuff, more and more and more, and I’ll never ever leave the workshop, and I’ll know everything I create is out there, destroying—”

  “Whoa. Hold on,” I said before she picked up steam again. “You don’t have to let the Director boss you around. The last Rapunzel—” A lump clogged my throat. I swallowed it. “Well, she wasn’t super obedient. She ignored the Director and did her own thing all the time. Change the Binding Oath. Say that you’ll do what is in the best interest of the Characters the Canon serves.”

  Lena pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry about Rapunzel, Rory,” she said, and in my chest, in the great hole Hansel and Rapunzel’s death had left, I felt how much she meant it.

  I couldn’t talk about Rapunzel yet, even with Lena. We couldn’t both break down. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Footsteps thumped on the stairs. Lena’s grandmother was coming to tell me my ten minutes were up.

  I stood. “Lena, you’re the best magical inventor the world has seen in centuries. Melodie thinks you could be even better than Madame Benne. If anyone can figure out a way to replace those golden hands with real ones, it’s you.”

  Lena looked at me before her gran opened the door and her face was better than the Tree of Hope returned to its usual spot. Her inventing spark was back.

  I went back to my apartment and searched everywhere for my letter. I dumped out my carryall and every drawer in my room and every cabinet in our tiny apartment. I checked under beds and mattresses, beneath plates and between books. I even checked all of my pockets.

  I couldn’t find it.

  “Maybe you’re not meant to find it yet,” said Amy, watching me throw my clothes against the wall in frustration. She didn’t say anything about the mess I was making, but I knew my sympathy pass would run out soon.

  “Maybe she didn’t write me one,” I said, trying not to sound resentful. “Maybe she told me everything she needed to say in person. She did talk to me the most, at the end.”

  But I didn’t believe that. It had to be somewhere, and in it, Rapunzel would tell me how to stop the Snow Queen.

  “I’ll help you look until Maggie and I have to go,” Amy said, feeling under the sofa cushions for the letter. “There’s a sort of town hall thing happening before the Canon meets.”

  Wow, it was like Ever After School had completely forgotten an invasion could hit the human world any minute. “Well, that is a colossal waste of time.”

  Amy shot me a sharp glance over the couch. “You better hope not. Half the families are thinking about leaving. It’s obviously not safe here, like we thought. Your parents are going to try to talk them out of it.”

  “Oh,” I said in a small voice. I’d been so busy worrying about the dwarves and the gnomes this morning, I’d never thought about how the humans might feel.

  Mom glided out of her bedroom. On her, armor looked like just another costume. Parents weren’t supposed to join the actual battle again, but after yesterday, she wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Your father and I decided that you’ll babysit Danica while we’re in the meeting,” she told me cheerfully.

  The phrase “your father and I decided” kind of threw me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard her say it. Then I realized what she’d said. “No way. I won’t do anything while you’re gone, but I have to find this letter.”

  “You can take the baby with you for that,” Mom said, smiling in that steely way that meant she refused to argue about this.

  “But what if the invasion starts?” I said. “I can’t take my baby sister into battle.”

  “Exactly,” Amy said, tossing a few more throw pillows on the floor. “Rory, you say you won’t do anything dangerous while we’re gone, but the only way we’ll know for sure is if we put you in charge of someone tiny and helpless. You wouldn’t leave Dani.”

  Mom scowled at Amy. So it was true. I didn’t know if I should be pleased my parents were working together or upset that they were ganging up on me.

  “What?” Amy said, suddenly awkward. “Was I not supposed to tell her? She was just going to keep arguing.”

  “No, I’m glad you said something. Arguing really would have been a waste of time,” I said, and Amy laughed, even though I hadn’t meant for it to be funny.

  I showed up at Dad and Brie’s apartment five minutes before the meeting.

  “Good! You’re here!” Brie plunked Dani in my arms before I even stepped inside. Then she walked back into the apartment and opened the hall closet. I stared from her to the baby, almost afraid to move. I’d never held Dani without someone watching us before. I wanted a chaperone who could swoop in if it looked like I might drop her. I tucked her against my shoulder, one hand over her head and one over her diaper, like I’d seen Brie and Dad do a thousand times.

  Then the baby sucked in a huge breath and let it whoosh out, sleepy and content. The fear fizzled out.

  Actually, for the first time all day, I didn’t feel empty. Or even terrible.

  This was probably what they meant by “heartwarming.” Maybe the Snow Queen should try this.

  I immediately sobered. Maybe she had. Maybe that was why she had kidnapped Rapunzel.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” I asked my stepmother.

  Brie didn’t bother looking up. She just kept digging through her closet. “You’re her big sister! That’s the best kind of babysitter there is.”

  “Free?” I said.

  “Family. You love her just as much as we love her. You won’t let anything happen to her,” Brie said. “Diaper bag is beside your dad’s desk. You should be all set. If you have any trouble, call us on our M3’s. I’ll come right away.”

  Diapers. I’d never changed one. I edged away from the designer bag, covered in a print of rubber duckies, hoping I wouldn’t need it.

  “The harp lady dropped that off earlier. Looks kind of important.” Brie pointed to the table. Rapunzel’s glass vial stood there, and I was surprised at how happy I was to see it again. I drifted over and glanced at the note sitting under it.

  Sorry I couldn’t drop it off myself! Gran wouldn’t let me do “unnecessary errands.” She says it’s pretty, though. She’s strongly hinting that she would like a chandelier of these vials for her birthday. I’ll make sure it’s from both of us.—Lena

  Brie stuffed one arm in the sleeve of her hoodie. “Oh my God—is that really the time? ERIC! We’re supposed to be there in three minutes!”

  Dani heard her mother shouting. Her eyes opened and swiveled up to mine in a way that clearly said, Should I be worried? I stroked her back.

  “Brie, did you say something?” my dad called. “Can’t hear you with the shower running.”

  My stepmother sighed and headed for the bathroom. “I love your father to pieces, I really do, but he has a very creative understanding of the term ‘on time.’ And the man loves his long showers.”

  Then she poked her head inside the bathroom and started talking to Dad. I kept my eyes averted.

  I hadn’t been sure about it at first, but I loved Brie too. I loved the way she was honest. I loved the way she talked about things—how she always had a way of sounding cheery and goofy instead of scared or bitter. I hadn’t figured out if she worked hard at it the same way Chase did—hiding what she was really thinking—or if she was just born that way.

  She laughed at something Dad said. Then she blew him a kiss and shut the door. “Okay, he’s gonna meet me there. You make sure he gets his butt out of this apartment, okay?” She crossed the room, gathering her second shoe and her purse along the way. “You know what my mom said to me after I broke up with my first boyfriend? ‘Someday, you’ll find a keeper. He’ll still drive you crazy, but you’ll look forward to him driving you crazy for the rest of your life.’ Kind of annoying that she was right.”

  She kissed my forehead and then Dani’s. “Love you both. Remember
: You’ll do great. Sister bonding time! And, Rory, don’t forget to open your gift. It’s on your dad’s desk.” Then she grabbed her keys and was gone.

  The Snow Queen could invade the human world any minute, and my stepmother was worried about me getting my belated birthday present.

  It was hard to tear the wrapping off with the baby dozing on my shoulder, but I managed.

  Inside the gift box was a stack of typed pages—Dad’s screenplay—with a Post-it attached: I know you’re busy, but after things settle down, could you read this for me and tell me what you think? I obviously wasn’t the only person he’d asked. The margins of the first page were crammed with handwritten comments.

  I spotted Brie’s messy scrawl, but Amy’s tidy cursive surprised me.

  She’d circled some dialogue and written, Rory would never say this. Listen to her more, and you’ll get a better idea of how kids talk.

  Then I read that circled dialogue.

  RACHEL

  You don’t scare me, Ice Witch, but your armies . . . well, I don’t like them very much.

  Amy was right. I would never say that. Who did like armies?

  I skimmed the rest of the page. A girl, talking to this Ice Witch. Her friend held captive by the witch’s trolls. Agreeing to fight this fairy guy. Swearing to free them.

  Oh.

  The door to the bathroom cracked open, and Dad strolled out in jeans and a T-shirt that was damp at the neck, rubbing his hair with a towel. “Brie asked you to make sure I didn’t take too long, didn’t she? I’m sure they don’t care if I’m a little late—” Then he spotted the wrapping paper on the floor.

  “It’s about me,” I said. “And my friends. Did I tell you about fighting Torlauth in the Snow Queen’s entrance hall?” I thought I’d left out that detail when I told him, Mom, and Amy the story in April.

  “Miriam did,” Dad admitted. “She let me pick her brain.”