The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 4

by Isabella Fontaine

  “Seth!” I shouted.

  Seth didn’t turn around. He was at the base of the giant oil derrick, using his bare hands to twist the giant steel bars that made up the skeletal structure. The metal screeched and groaned. Something ruptured at the base, causing oil to bubble up, washing over Seth’s feet. Over his old red tennis shoes; his favorite shoes.

  “He can’t hear you,” the statue creature said, turning to face me. His spare body parts surrounded him on the ground. They began to rumble, and then one by one he began changing. First, the old rusted arms fell away. The right arm was replaced by the terrifying-looking robotic pinchers that looked like something right out of a science-fiction movie; the left arm was replaced by a muscular granite arm, its hand clenched into a fist. Both legs weren’t so much replaced as added onto: little pieces of scrap from the destroyed pumpjack reinforced the old legs, while fresh screws and bolts snapped into the joints.

  Finally, the lion head was replaced by a stone Medusa head, snakes and all.

  “I suppose that’s a bit more menacing than a lion,” I said, raising the shields.

  The statue took a step closer. “Leave. Let me finish my task. You may think me a monster, but it is my destiny to save the human race.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I must have a purpose!” he thundered. “Otherwise, why am I here? Why do I exist if I have no purpose? Now stay back! It is not my intention to kill anyone if I can help it.”

  “Yeah, that makes total sense.” I took a step closer, defying his menacing stature.

  “I cannot stop,” the statue said, “even if I wanted. Don’t you see? This is what I was meant to do.”

  “I have to stop Seth before he hurts anyone.”

  “I’ve warned you enough,” he said, standing straight. I knew what was coming. I’d known since the very first time he’d traded heads. The old arms and legs came first, soaring right toward me. In the dim light, they seemed to come even faster than they really did, and my reflexes brought both shields up in plenty of time, pressing them together so the entire front of my body was protected.

  Thump! Thump-thump, thump! Each hit staggered me back a step. I peered over the shields, staring at the chunks of marble and stone. They’d lost their power—or the statue creature was losing his.

  “You’re wasting your time!” the statue creature screamed. Almost as if on cue, the towering oil derrick groaned—Seth had torn away one of the main support beams and was in the process of bending another. The entire structure tipped toward us. More black liquid was bubbling out at the base, spreading to the statue creature’s feet.

  “The oil,” he gasped. “Sweet oil. Faster, golem! Tear this derrick apart!”

  More arms and legs came flying at me, so quickly that my frantic eyes registered only shadows. I crouched, raising the shields and covering as much of my body as possible. The pieces of metal were attracted by the magnet I’d drawn in the ground. More marble and stone parts hit the shields and broke apart … but not all.

  One. One slipped through, bouncing off the hard ground and connecting with my left calf muscle. I cried out, squeezing out hot tears.

  Focus, hero!

  I blinked furiously, ducking lower, feeling two more of the statue’s spare body parts hit the shield. I risked peering over the shield, breathing quickly, trying to minimize the burning pain in my calf and not think about the bandages on my back whose tape was peeling off. The calf bruise was a bruise and more: I could feel my pants had been ripped away, and maybe my skin had been scraped.

  Focus! Deep, controlled breaths, just like Briar taught you. In. Out. In … out.

  I made a quick three-sixty, searching the shadows for any more of the spare parts. There was one: the stone arm that had hit my calf. It was bouncing up and down on the ground like it was working up the nerve to hit me again. Suddenly, it was airborne. I raised my shield. The collision numbed my arm and pushed me back. My shaky left calf gave up, sending me tumbling on the ground.

  I looked up. The statue creature glared down with his Medusa face. Cool black oil touched the crown of my head, flowing to my shoulders and kissing my bare neck.

  “You cannot stop me,” the statue creature thundered, his voice sending ripples through the oil as it flowed around my arm. “This is my destiny!”

  I rolled right, coating myself in oil. The statue followed me, each step causing the oil to splash in every direction. I risked a glance at Seth: he’d managed to tear apart another steel support beam and now the entire derrick was beginning to tip right toward us, its skeletal tower bending and breaking apart under its own weight.

  Roll faster!

  I rolled again and again, letting go of my shields, feeling the oil dampen my hair and slip into my ears and wash over my face. The statue took two more steps, then stopped as his metal feet reached my trap: a magnet. I kept rolling, out of the way of the crumpling black tower, the top of which had begun to collapse on top of itself, the remaining steel bars at its base crinkling like hollow aluminum cans.

  “What is this?” the statue asked.

  “Magnet,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. I kept my weight on my right leg as I pulled the pen from my pocket. The oil was slicked over my left calf, causing a dull stinging sensation. Oil clung to my hair, slathered over my face, drenched my shirt. I glanced right—the flames from the other collapsed derrick were slowly crawling toward us. The oil at my feet was still spreading, aiming to meet the flames halfway.

  There’s not much time.

  “The sweet oil,” said the statue, his glowing Medusa eyes staring down at the liquid gathering around his feet. “Look around you, Alice. Look at the drug your species craves. It will destroy you all, and then what will the hero’s struggle have been for?”

  Behind him, the broken tower’s steel girders at the base bent with one massive groan. The tower fell. The statue turned, watching with an expression of frozen hatred. The heavy steel landed on him, slamming into the ground, sending oil splashing up. I lost my footing, falling into the slick liquid, feeling it soak into my socks, feeling my brain rattle at the seismic shock of the impact.

  I got up, searching the wreckage. There came a groan from between two of the thick steel girders. I could see the statue creature pinned underneath, its Medusa head crushed, the stone snakes drowning in the flood of oil. The black liquid reflected the flames of the fires behind me; I turned, sure that my time was up. No—not yet. But close. The flames and the oil would meet right at the base of the pumpjack that Seth had destroyed.

  Seth …

  I climbed onto the crumpled derrick, slipping between the thick girders and pressing one foot on the statue creature’s left arm. I reached down, stabbing the creature’s metal-plated chest with the magic pen. No burning blackness. I used the nib of the pen to cut the plating away like a can opener and reached inside, grabbing something cold. Something cold and struggling.

  Out popped a boy. A golden boy with golden clothes and short, golden hair, clutching a little potted flower with white petals. He looked afraid, then his little beady eyes saw the oil all around us and he struggled free of my grasp, bouncing off the steel girders with a metallic clang. He let go of the potted flower and it landed on the ground, inches away from the pool of oil. He bent over, slurping the oil into his mouth.

  I stepped over the fallen tower, grabbing the potted flower. The golden boy looked up, his mouth wet with black oil, his face hardened in a look of desperation. The same look he’d been wearing since his skin hardened.

  “It will all be for naught,” he hissed in a high, childish voice. “All of this … and your species will wipe itself out. Only I can save you all!”

  “Humanity gets to choose its own destiny,” I said. I used the nib of the pen to cut the flower’s stem. It burned away. The golden boy groaned. Behind him, the oil caught fire; low bluish flames spread across the black pond, engulfing the golden boy. But he was already burning away, just like the flower.

 
I wiped the sweat from my head, stepping away from the flames. There came another steel groan. I looked left—Seth. He was at the next derrick less than a hundred feet away, tearing apart the base. Already, oil had begun bubbling up, reflecting the hot flames at my back. I could hear sirens, still too far away to be seen but they were coming, and we couldn’t be here when that happened.

  “Seth!” I called out. I stopped ten feet from him. He was covered in oil and wore a grim expression, the whites of his eyes accented by the black oil smeared on his sunken cheeks and matted to his short hair. “Seth … I’m so sorry.”

  I wanted to say more, but the leaking oil had already crept across the empty parking space to the fallen derrick and the pond of flames. The flames, finding their new route, began to slowly travel along the surface of the black liquid.

  “If you’re in there at all, Seth … I’m sorry. For everything.”

  The flames circled him. He blinked a few times, staring at me quizzically. Innocently.

  The fire consumed him. I stepped back, choking on the fumes. The sound of the sirens was louder now. I could see two sets of blinking red lights in the distance beyond Seth, coming closer.

  No, not Seth. It was nothing but a golem. A burning clay golem, its skin hardening and growing brittle as the flames grew hotter.

  “Alice?”

  I stepped back, horrified. “S … Seth?”

  He held up his hand. His shirt had burned away and a thousand cracks were forming along the skin. He looked at me, eyes wide, fissures lining his forehead. “Alice? Can you hear me? I’m trapped … there’s … Agnim … he has me captured … and …” His lips cracked. The flames burned hotter. I risked a step closer. I could pull him out quick …

  No! came Briar’s urgent voice. You’re covered in oil! Stay back!

  The sirens were louder now. The smell of burning oil made my eyes water. I didn’t dare step any closer.

  “Seth!” I screamed, reaching out foolishly. It was only a pinprick of instinct that forced me back before the flames could catch on me.

  “Alice!” he shouted through crumbling lips. “I’m trapped … you have to come save me!”

  “Seth!”

  He fell forward. I jumped back, landing hard on my left calf and falling over. The burning clay golem hit the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. His last words echoed in my head.

  The flashing lights stopped on the other side of the fire. The vehicles were big, too big to be police cars; they were emergency fire trucks, and they were too concerned with the still-leaking oil to risk finding a way to the other side of the mess.

  I spared one more look at the shattered golem. I had to cement this moment in my mind. I had to push aside the sound of the sirens and the firefighters shouting orders and the crackling of flames. I had to remember Seth’s frantic voice. I had to remember it because there would come a moment when I would doubt myself, and I knew that if I didn’t hold onto this moment right here, I might second-guess what I had to do next.

  I turned, wincing in pain as I put my full weight on my left foot. I took four halting steps.

  Then I ran.

  Chapter 17: Alice

  “I don’t get it,” Chase said, pulling over in front of Grayle Incorporated’s skyscraper. There were lights on in the lobby, but I could see even from the street that no one sat behind the information desk. There were other lights higher above. Lights on in the windows at the top floor, too. It was six o’clock in the morning.

  “He’s alive, Chase.”

  “But what about Briar?” he asked. He was frantic. He’d been frantic on the entire rushed drive home. We hadn’t slept. Every time we stopped, we grabbed some caffeine and a snack. Every stop, I threw up in the bathroom. I felt cold. Oil still clung to my hair—I’d changed during our first gas-up, leaving a good bit of the black stuff on Chase’s car seat.

  “Briar can’t help us right now,” I said. “He’s … he …”

  DON’T TRUST THE RABBIT.

  “He might be Corrupted,” Chase finished.

  I turned to him. He had a pleading look in his eyes. He wanted me to reassure him that it wasn’t true, that he’d guessed wrong. But I couldn’t say that. “I locked him up. We’ll come back for him when this is all over. We’ll help him if we can.”

  “And what if we can’t?”

  I sighed, shaking my head. “Then I don’t know.”

  “But you know you have to do this right now. Here. Alone.” He punched the steering wheel. “Damn it, none of it makes sense. You said you tried to bring Seth back, but it didn’t work. So now you’re going after him? You’re crazy.”

  “I’m not.” I reached out, touching his face. He pulled away. “Chase. Please trust me.”

  He looked down at the steering wheel. The sun was rising behind Grayle Tower, casting a dark shadow over our car; Chase had this tough guy look, his hair slightly disheveled and in severe need of a washing. Then he looked at me and the tough guy disappeared. His soft eyes pierced mine. “Don’t do this, Alice.”

  “I have to,” I said, reaching down and grabbing the gladius I’d drawn outside of the last gas station we’d stopped at. “Seth is stuck somewhere, and he needs to be rescued. There’s no time to waste.”

  “But …”

  I grabbed his hand. It was warm, mine ice cold. “You need to get my parents somewhere safe. Someplace where Grayle’s people won’t find them or you.”

  He squeezed my fingers. I let him hold on for a while, hoping it might calm my nerves and get my circulation going again. But it was no use—my body was preparing itself for the inevitable.

  For death.

  For Death.

  “I love you, dragon slayer.”

  I smiled. “I love you, lion tamer.”

  We kissed. I pressed my lips tight against his, willing a spark to run through my body. I’ll come back. I’ll find a way back.

  Right?

  Right?

  “Your pen,” Chase said, reaching into his pocket. He handed it over.

  I stared at it. “How did you—?”

  “You left it in the drink holder when you changed. It was covered with oil so I wiped it off while I was gassing up.”

  “But you touched it. And it didn’t burn at all.”

  He smiled weakly. “Just gets a little warm.”

  “Hold onto it,” I said. I shouldn’t have said it. The moment I did, Chase’s body seemed to slump. He understood what the words meant.

  I reached over and kissed him again, then wrenched myself away, against the advice of every single cell in my body. My hand found the car door. I opened it, spilling out before Chase could grab me, before his eyes could lock again onto mine. There was no turning back now.

  I hobbled up the granite steps leading to the building. The front doors were unlocked. No one sat behind the sleek-looking information desk or in the plush chairs pressed up against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  There was no one in the hall. All of the elevators were at the first floor, waiting. I steeled my nerves, clutching the sword. In my ears I heard my heartbeat. I heard my heartbeat and Seth’s voice, calling out for help.

  I took the elevator. The speakers in the elevator were quiet, so I pulled the Juniper seed from my pocket, listening to the strange, haunting music play quietly inside my ears. I mentally ordered the seed to switch over to my Corrupted Killing playlist. I’d built it with Seth and Briar. I’d put in some Florence and the Machine, Seth had added a few fast-paced punk rock tunes and Briar had thrown in a little blues. Then, later, Chase had added his favorite song by the Runaways, “I Love Playing With Fire.”

  That’s a darn good playlist.

  Thinking about it cleared my mind. I reminded myself why I was here and thought back to what Briar had said about Juliette.

  She’d let revenge consume her. She fell into the abyss.

  The elevator didn’t short-circuit. I didn’t go falling to my death. The doors opened at the top floor, and no monsters wer
e waiting to greet me.

  Just Sam Grayle. Sam Grayle, standing in front of his window beside his desk, arms folded behind his back. I stepped inside his office, clutching the gladius, fighting the urge to run. There was no going back now.

  “I’ve been waiting months for you,” the dwarf said in a low voice. “Months. You’ve tormented me, holding out for so long. I’ve convinced myself a hundred times over that you weren’t coming, only to succumb to the gnawing fear that you were on your way to kill me when I least expected it.”

  “Sorry to put you through all that.” I stepped closer. He turned around. His face looked aged. The golden shine was dull, his skin sallow, his eyes bloodshot and sunken. Even his gray suit looked worn, as if he’d been sleeping in it. His magical aura of intimidation was gone.

  “I know what you may think of me,” he said, “and you’re right. Mostly. But I want you to know that if I could take back what I did, I would.”

  Don’t falter, Alice! “Saying that won’t save you.”

  “Of course not,” he snapped. “Why do you think this building is empty? Why do you think the doors are unlocked?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His lip curled into a snarl. He unbuttoned his coat, turning back to the window. “I remember what I was feeling after I pulled the trigger. I remember feeling nothing.”

  “And that surprised you?” I asked, suddenly awash in anger once again. My fingers tightened around the gladius hilt.

  “I like to think I’m different from the other Corrupted.” Grayle turned back to me. “I like to think it, but I know deep down that I’m not. I’m a Corrupted. I’ve tried so many years to be unlike my brothers, to try and blend in with the rest of humanity. To pretend. Sure, the heroes have always been a thorn, but the rest of humanity? I like to think my greed helped me fit right in.”

  “Maybe it did,” I said. “But it was all my fault for striking a deal with you in the first place.”

  Grayle shook his head. “It was my fault. I pulled the trigger.” He half-snorted, half-laughed. “I should have simply trusted you to kill the Malevolence. After all, you’ve always seemed to have a good plan.”