Thread and Spool (A Twisted Fairy Tale #1)

by Holly Hook

  "A growl. Somewhere to our left."

  I tensed. We had no weapons out here. No wolf would care about my ability to spin gold. Or maybe this world had werewolves in it, to conform with the imaginations of modern day society. I didn't know.

  "How close?" I whispered.

  Then I heard something grunt in pain, and some footfalls heading away from us. I searched and caught some underbrush thrashing about a hundred feet away, and caught a glimpse of something gray and brown chasing something with a white, bobbing tail. A deer. And a wolf, right on its heels.

  Sylvia gripped my arm tighter. "Is it going away?"

  "Yes." I swallowed. I think of the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood. Was that a tale from the Grimm volume? If it was, that wolf is around here somewhere and it's probably a denizen of the dark region.

  "I hear voices," Sylvia said after another few minutes.

  I couldn't hear them yet. I led her along, farther and farther down the natural hallway. The trees around us got so thick that I could barely see through the leaves to the rest of the forest. Branches poked through the leafy walls and some them looked like skeleton hands, reaching for us.

  Then I heard what Sylvia was talking about.

  Voices. All men. Echoing up the trail ahead.

  I searched the edges of the trail. Could we hide in this if they came back? When they came back? We were running out of options. Sylvia faced me and her hood slid back a bit. I caught a glimpse of her missing eyes and had to stop myself from recoiling. This was some kind of nightmare world here. I was asleep and any moment I'd wake up.

  Then the sound of galloping cut over them all.

  "In!" I hissed, pulling Sylvia towards the green wall and the stick hands poking out of it. We went tumbling into the underbrush. The branches grasped at my dress and it caught, but I shoved through, regretting the fact that I had changed into this thing in the first place. I wanted my dragon leggings back. I wanted my life back.

  We got into the underbrush and Sylvia pushed close to me. The hooves grew louder and passed us. It was just one of the bandits. A lookout, maybe. Money clinked together. Maybe he was off to some nasty inn to gamble it away.

  "That's one bandit gone," Sylvia said. "Let's go see where the loot is."

  I could hear the nerves in her voice. She matched the way I felt. I almost wished Stilt were here, that he could use some kind of magic to aid us here.

  I felt my way back to the trail, Sylvia in tow. She lost grip on my arm and caught it again.

  The voices floated down the trail now, which curved up ahead. That was good. I didn't want the bandits to see us coming. My heart threatened to pound out of my chest. We were doing something stupid here, but I needed to do something, anything, to keep King Henrik from taking over this entire world. To keep myself from falling into his trap again and again.

  Another pillar of sunlight came down from above. Sylvia and I stepped into it and I stopped for a second. We were on a crude bridge and a stream gurgled underneath. The light was warm, hopeful. I looked up to see blue sky above us. Still daylight, but getting close to evening. A bit of orange had crept in. We had to hurry.

  The voices got louder and at last, I made out one shout that cut above the others.

  "Semsi Mountain, Semsi Mountain, shut thyself."

  A huge groaning sound echoed through the forest. Rocks creaked and rubbed against each other and I fought the urge to reach up and cover my ears. At last, after a long, drawn-out minute, the noise dulled and stopped.

  I looked at Sylvia, mouth falling open, forgetting that she couldn't see my expression.

  "What was that?" I asked.

  "The mountain must have some kind of magical door," she whispered. "It sounds like they are about to leave. We must wait until they're long gone before we open it back up and look inside."

  We ducked off the trail again, and this time three more horses galloped past, free of clinking treasure and gold. There had better be something besides the gold in there for us to find. Something that would help us end all of this.

  I held my breath until the horses had vanished, and pulled us out onto the trail again. Keeping our arms locked together, we rounded the curve and came out to a huge clearing.

  Orange sunlight made me squint as we stepped into it. We'd come to an enormous clearing in the dark forest, and standing before us was a tall, bare mountain made of gray stone and nothing else. Its jagged face showed no signs of any caves or doors and it towered towards the puffy clouds overhead. It must be about a mile high, and I couldn't imagine that anyone could have found a way to hide treasure here. Anyone passing by would just think this was some ordinary mountain, except for the fact that there were no other mountains around it like in the normal world. The dark forest surrounded us in all directions, and other trails split off everywhere through the trees. We were standing in some kind of forest hub, maybe some big meeting place for Bandits Anonymous.

  This was a dangerous place. The dread feeling in my stomach grew, but I felt something else, too. A tingling, washing across my skin. Magic. It seemed to fill the air here, and it reminded me of something.

  Stilt's touch.

  I remembered Stilt's words that magic and gold were the same thing here. One always came with the other in Fable. There had to be a lot of gold here. A lot inside of that mountain.

  "Well," I said, taking a step closer to the rock face. "This is it."

  "We know the name of the mountain now," Sylvia said. "But we should wait before we open it. The bandits will hear this a mile away."

  "I agree," I said. "Can you hear them?"

  Sylvia turns her head, pulling her hood down again. "Yes. They're getting farther away. We should wait a little while before we do anything."

  "And hope nothing finds us here," I said. I looked up the mountain. It was tall, foreboding. I didn't want to entertain the thought of having to climb that if a pack of wolves showed up or something.

  A lone owl hooted. At least it wouldn't come out here and stare at us. It was too bright in the clearing.

  At last, after the light had grown to a deep orange and the sun had vanished behind the trees, Sylvia said, "I can't hear them anymore. They must be miles away by now. I think we're safe."

  I faced the mountain. I felt incredibly stupid standing here, searching for a door that wasn't here. I took a step closer, leaving Sylvia behind me, and the tingling sensation got stronger. Magic. It was here, all right.

  "Simli Mountain, open thyself."

  Nothing. The rock remained as solid as ever.

  "It was Semsi Mountain," Sylvia reminded me. "Like this. Semsi Mountain, open thyself!"

  And then the ground quaked.

  I jumped, afraid that Alric was back, but no one else had entered the clearing. Sylvia turned in a circle, not sure what to do.

  A dark line formed down the front of the entire mountain. Birds took off into flight all around us, spooked. Rocks tumbled. I jumped back. A huge groan filled the air again and I was sure that whoever was out there would hear it and come looking, but we had no choice. We'd come this far and I wasn't going to go back now. Not until this curse was off me and I could go back home.

  The crack widened. The world trembled as the fissure grew into a huge mouth. I had the sense that I was looking into the gateway into some underground region where things worse than the elves and the bandits and the wolves lived.

  And at last, the groaning stopped. A sphere of yellow light ignited deep inside the mountain, floating well above the ground. It hung there, waiting. Somewhere, the owl hooted again.

  I looked at Sylvia. "Let's go," I said.

  Chapter Eight

  I led the way again, leading Sylvia into the mountain. The sun got blotted out as we entered and I blinked several times, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. The orb overhead continued to shine. It was like stepping into a room lit with a huge, dim light bulb.

  "Whoa," I managed.

  The room--no, the inside of the mountain--wa
s full of treasure.

  And I mean full.

  Gold coins lay in stacks and towers everywhere. Silver ones, too. I felt as if I'd stepped into some pirates' hideout. Sylvia and I walked through a trail in the middle of the mountain, and the stone ceiling hung way overhead. I had to crane my neck to look at one pile of treasure, a huge stack of gold bars that had to be about ten feet tall. If it toppled on us, we might die from it. The dirt was worn under our feet, like the bandits had come through here many, many times. I craned my neck to see around the piles of treasure ahead. We had to hurry. I couldn't sit here and marvel at this all day. It wasn't like I couldn't produce this stuff myself.

  "What's in here?" Sylvia asked.

  "We had better hope Henrik doesn't find this," I said. "It might make him powerful enough to rule Fable. He might not need me after all." Some of this might have belonged to him in the first place. Maybe some of this Stilt had spun in his past lives.

  Sylvia reached out, trying to feel her way through. I kept her arm locked with mine. "Careful," I told her. "We don't want this stuff falling on us. It could. I don't think we should touch anything if we don't think it could help us." I think of Sylvia's desire to go start a new life. She could, with this. Only a few gold bars could set her for a while. But if Sylvia knew she was surrounded by Fable's treasure, she might ditch me as soon as she could find Stilt. What use would I be then?

  "What's here?" she asked again. "There's so much magic in this place."

  "Treasure," I told her. "Nothing useful that can help us with what we came for. If we need money, we have me."

  "I thought you wanted to get rid of your curse."

  "I do." What would I be once it was gone?

  What would I do? Paint pictures?

  Could I manage on my own without it?

  We walked deeper into the mountain. The ceiling got higher above us as we headed towards the center, the heart. I glanced up and the yellow orb seemed almost blinding. I wondered what created it or if the magic here just kept it lit. I couldn't imagine bandits doing magic here. If they could, what would they need to steal for?

  I didn't like this.

  The piles of gold grew monotonous after a while and at last, I started to see some different stuff. Jewels lay in piles everywhere and rubies shone like magical blood. Emeralds and sapphires reflected the pale light and I had to resist grabbing a handful of the gems just to see how they felt toppling out of my hands. This might be like that cave in Aladdin where you couldn't touch anything. I glanced back to make sure the mountain was still open. Yes. If it closed, could we still command it from in here?

  "I hear a goose," Sylvia said. "And wings flapping. There's a goose in here."

  "A goose?" I asked, not sure why any animal would want to live in here with those bandits going in and out.

  But she was right. The trail curved. There was a wooden picket fence up ahead, one that looked crude and put together in a hurry.

  And animals.

  A horse had its head down, chewing. And it was gold. Every single hair shone yellow. The horse stopped grazing to look up at me with big, sorrowful eyes. I about melted into them. I was never into horses or anything, but I wanted to reach out and pet this one and tell it we would get it out of here.

  And next to it stood a goose as if it was trying to hide from us and take shelter under the horse. And it was gold, too.

  Every feather. The goose took a couple of steps as if it wasn't sure about us. And then I saw the damage.

  The goose had had feathers plucked from it. Often. The poor thing had a bare spot near its tail and another one on its wing. I spotted a bit of blood staining one of the feathers. The goose decided we were a threat and huddled more under the horse. The horse stood over it, protecting it.

  "Hey," I said. "We're not going to hurt you." My heart ached for the animals. These bandits had all this other treasure in here. I searched the fence for a gate. Why didn't the goose try to fly? It could get out of here.

  "What's going on?" Sylvia asked. "I hear a horse."

  The horse raised one hoof and pawed at the ground. "I'm letting these guys go," I said, letting go of Sylvia. "Let me find the fence."

  "Is there something I can do?" she asked.

  "Watch the--listen for anyone who might be coming."

  I found the front of the gate and unhooked it. "You're free!" I told the animals. "Get out of here!" I thought of the wolves and the other things that must be living out in the woods, including other people. But these creatures would be better off than they were in here. "Go on!"

  The horse stood there like it wasn't sure, then bolted for the exit. The goose waddled after it, trying to stay under the shelter of its friend. I knew how those animals felt. Why they wanted to run. I wanted to run right along with them.

  I wondered how they'd gotten cursed.

  Like me.

  I watched the horse and the goose run past Sylvia, who backed into a pile of gold. Coins toppled onto the trail. The orb flickered above like it wasn't sure about us. The full dread hit me again. "We need to hurry," I said.

  "I can't help you with the searching part," Sylvia said. "There's so much magic in here I'm beginning to feel ill."

  "I'll be quick," I said. "Just listen. You can hear those bandits coming from miles away."

  I checked one more time to make sure the mountain wasn't closing. I caught a glimpse of the goose waddling out. I circled around the now-empty animal pen. I caught a glimpse of a fiddle sitting up against another pile of gold, and the tingly feeling that radiated from it was so strong that I had to resist the urge to pick it up and start playing it. The thing was dangerous, somehow. I moved past it as fast as I could and moved on.

  "Hello."

  The soft voice radiated through my head and I stopped.

  "What was that?" Sylvia asked. She'd heard it, too.

  "I'm over here. If you can free me, I would much appreciate it."

  I searched around, but the voice wasn't coming from anywhere. It echoed inside my head and I seriously started to get freaked out.

  "I'm in the bowl."

  Then I spotted it.

  A grimy fish bowl sat on top of a table with a cloth on it. And inside it was a small golden fish, swimming around in circles like it was going stir crazy. I wondered how it was alive in there. How it had managed to stay alive. It didn't seem to have anything to eat and it looked like no one had changed the water in its bowl in the last century.

  "Yes. That's me. Can you get me out of here and to the stream? There's one near one of the trails, if I remember right."

  The manly voice echoed through my head again.

  It was the fish. It was actually talking to me.

  "Who's there?" Sylvia asked.

  "You don't want to know," I told her. I picked up the fish bowl, not sure what was going to happen. The creature swam in circles, excited.

  "Now carry me outside." I didn't see a mouth move, but its voice echoed in my mind. If I had, I would have dropped the bowl right there, run out, and forgot I ever found this place. I wondered what story this came from, which fairytale. We seemed to have walked through several by now. At least the fairytales usually served justice. If I helped this fish, nothing bad would come out of it, right?

  And I saw nothing else here that could help.

  I took one more search around the inside of the mountain, but saw nothing else besides more heaps of treasure and the scary fiddle which still lay there on the ground. I wove around it and back to where Sylvia was waiting.

  "I can take that," she said. "I hear water sloshing."

  "It's a fish. Talking to us," I said. The fish said nothing in my head and I handed it to Sylvia, relieved to be free of it.

  I took her arm and led her outside of the mountain. I'd close it up after we dropped the fish in the stream. My heart hammered. Something would happen when we did this. The fish muttered something in my head, but I couldn't make it out, and we entered the forest again, following the same trail we
came through. We entered the arched, living tunnel and darkness swallowed us except for the one ray of dying sunlight. We came closer to the bridge and the water gurgled underneath.

  "Now," the fish said, "place me into the stream, so I can be free to swim back to the sea."

  Sylvia handed me the bowl. "You'll need to do it. Then we need to go and find something else in there."

  I trembled and leaned down next to the water. I poured the contents of the fish bowl into the stream and the little golden fish flopped in as well. It swam around in a big circle, celebrating its freedom, and lingered there. It splashed me with its tail.

  "What now?" Sylvia asked, leaning closer to the fish. "Do you have something to tell us?"

  "Yes," the fish said, its voice echoing through my mind again. I couldn't get over how weird this was. "I will grant the two of you one desire. Tell me what it is that you seek, and I will grant it to thee."

  My heart leapt.

  This was it.

  My chance.

  "I..." I couldn't form the words. "I want to...can you..." Could I just throw away my ability when it might be the only thing that would keep me alive if Henrik found me? I had no other talents here. No other talents other than painting, and who would find any worth in that? I could wish to go home, but that wouldn't solve my problem, either. Henrik might still find me, and Mom and Dad were still there, waiting for me to spin them some more gold.

  They wouldn't tolerate me under their roof if I returned without that. I'd be a rotten kid again.

  My chest hurt. I should get rid of this. I wanted to get rid of this. It had caused me so much misery.

  "What are you waiting for?" Sylvia asked. "Night's falling!"

  I swallowed. "I...I wish for Sylvia to have her eyesight back."

  "Very well," the fish said, and swam off into the deepening dusk.

  Sylvia stood up. Gasped. She reached up towards her eyes and covered them with her hands. "Oh..." she managed. "Oh...Brie, this feels so strange!" She turned in a circle. There was a weird sound coming from her face, some faint sucking sound that made me want to hurl.