My fingers curled around my thin blanket. Flick watching over us … the thought was hard to reconcile with my memories of him on earth. “What will you do if we’re attacked?”
He smiled. “I’ll wake ya if I need ya. But don’t count on it.”
“Cocky as always,” Sam said, laying back and closing his eyes. “But proficient enough in your hell-raising abilities that I’ll sleep soundly.”
I looked over to Seth. He was already asleep, his eyes closed and his face the picture of peacefulness. It drove an icy stake through my heart. That was how he’d looked in my arms after Death had reached inside his body and taken his spirit away to this place. I lay down, staring up at the canopy of pine branches above. How am I going to get him out of this place? How am I going to get myself out of here?
My eyes closed. Darkness swirled all around me.
I woke to a hand gently pushing on my shoulder.
Sam Grayle was leaning over me, the red glow of the dying fire reflecting in his eyes. I reached instinctively for my pocket, but the magic pen wasn’t there. My heart began racing—where was I? How had I fallen asleep?—before my memory caught up. My heart slowed but kept thumping against my ribcage.
This forest …
“Flick is tired,” Sam said. “I volunteered the two of us for the next watch.”
“Why?” I asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes with my knuckles. It hurt in a good way, stirring the last few sleepy cobwebs from my consciousness. I looked around: Seth was still asleep. Flick had already lain down, his pickaxe resting on his stomach.
“Because if there is danger, I won’t be much use.” He stood beside me, staring at the red embers in our little fire pit. “I haven’t wielded a pickaxe in over a hundred years. Unlike my brother, I had very little need.”
“I don’t suppose your fire-stoking abilities are any better? I never built fires on the few occasions I went camping.” An intense memory hit me. Sixth grade. Seth and I and the rest of our classmates were at Devil’s Lake, camping out in big tents. Our tent had a spider in it the size of a human head—not a small, well-shaped human head like mine, either; we’re talking a big, grotesque Mr. Whitmann human head. One of our teachers walked into the tent, took one look at it and pulled out his pocketknife. He tried stabbing it but it ran off, leaving us with a slit in the nylon wall … the perfect spot for more spiders to sneak in. Which is exactly what every kid in our tent thought about all night.
Seth had switched sleeping bags with me, telling me his was spider-proof because it was red and spiders hated the color red.
“It’s funny,” Sam whispered, glancing over at Seth. “My guilt is stronger here in this place. I’d hoped …”
“… That death would bring solace?” I finished.
He nodded. “I certainly didn’t expect this. But without the Corruption inside me, my memory of what happened in Castle Vontescue is seen through an entirely different lens. I’d thought I’d planned it all out.”
“And what exactly was your plan?” I asked, pulling aside my blanket. Just thinking back to that night made my heart race and my skin flush.
“Let the hero do the work,” he said simply.
“Oh, come on. You couldn’t possibly know I would stop that terrifying force of evil.”
Somewhere above us, an owl called out softly. Sam walked around the fire, peering into the dark forest. “I made a calculation. The Malevolence demanded my fealty. I was to engineer the circumstances to bring you to him. It wasn’t until I arrived that I realized the creature’s full power.”
“Oh come on. You expect me to think you were in the dark? You’re Sam Grayle! You’re never in the dark.”
His face tightened into a scowl. He bent down, grabbing a handful of sticks to throw on the fire. “I admit, I didn’t know much. But I was helpless. The Malevolence’s power was unfathomable. It could wipe out the hero’s legacy forever, freeing me of the one force that threatened my existence on a near-daily basis. But I was not so foolish as to trust it.”
“And so you hatched a Plan B that involved killing my best friend.”
He winced and shook his head. “I had hoped I could entice the pride of lions—and that maleficent monster, Scar—to remain loyal to me long enough to ensure that serving the Malevolence was our best possible option. I’d suspected the Malevolence was omitting certain information that would be essential to discerning his true plan.”
“So in other words, you suspected he wasn’t being totally honest with you?”
“Yes. Once I realized the full extent of the Malevolence’s weakness and the magic that bound him to the castle, I hedged my bets. But I knew that to stop it, there could be no potential host. I didn’t expect Seth to arrive with you. Nor did I expect him to engage in such an act of bravery.”
“But you would have killed him anyway.”
“I … don’t know what I would have done. So much was running through my head that night in the prince’s castle. But above it all, I heard a voice urging me to kill Sansa. You and Seth could have escaped. The Malevolence couldn’t use a Corrupted as a host. Flawed logic, in hindsight. And that dark voice inside my head … I convinced myself it was the Corruption talking. Now, I’m not so sure.”
I took a deep breath, blinking away hot tears. The scene played over and over in my mind’s eye. The night sky seemed to be crashing down on me, squeezing my chest.
“On earth,” Sam continued, “I justified many of my actions by pointing to the human beings around me who did the same. I could be a crude, ruthless businessman and still fit in with humanity. It was only in dealing with the hero that I was reminded of my true nature and the promise of the Corruption. But in the end, excusing my behavior by finding other humans guilty of the very same behavior … it only let the Corruption slip in and dig its roots ever deeper.”
“Do you expect me to believe you’re reformed?” I snapped my fingers. “Just like that, you’re a good guy? Do you expect me to forgive you for all the crap you put me through?”
“If you refuse to accept it, then know this: I fear Agnim’s power. I fear that if he’s not stopped, he will spread the Corruption in this place until whatever good exists is wiped out. And I don’t want to feel that darkness inside me again, hiding just out of reach and haunting me like a ghost. I don’t want to be Corrupted again.”
I sighed. “That’s at least a little more believable.”
Sam turned to me. His face had softened. “Whatever you believe, you have to trust me. You have to trust me because the challenge that lies ahead will be difficult even with both of us working together. It will be impossible if we’re constantly butting heads.”
“Ugh,” I mumbled. He had me there. And while I doubted his guilty conscience, I couldn’t deny that it was in his best interest to see this whole thing out to the end. I crossed my arms to stave off the chill, staring into the darkness. But what exactly is waiting for us at the end of this?
I was answered with a scream. An inhuman, terrifying scream.
Chapter 5
“Up, up, everyone up!” I whispered harshly, tapping Seth with my toe. “Rise and shine. Monster attack imminent.”
Seth stirred slowly, sitting up and smacking his lips. “My mouth tastes awful. I should have brushed my teeth.”
“You didn’t brush your teeth on earth,” I said, rolling up my blanket and stuffing it in the leather satchel that also contained a cooking pot and our meager supply of dried meats. I tied it to my horse, who sensed the unease and was nervously pawing the soft ground, testing the knot tying her reins to the trunk of a pine.
“What is it?” Flick asked, getting to his feet and pointing the pickaxe at the darkness.
Another screeching child-like scream, this time much closer.
And something else, too.
A hiss.
“Alice …” Sam whispered.
I drew the enchanted sword from its scabbard. In the darkness I could only make out the outlines of trees. The smoky sce
nt of the fire tickled my nose. Electricity ran through my body. My leg muscles tensed.
Another scream. The horses stirred, whinnying like they’d just heard a bad joke.
Another hiss, coming to our left.
“Where is it?” Flick asked, spinning around wildly.
“Alice …” Sam said.
“Just grab the other bag of supplies,” I ordered. “Whatever is out there, we can outrun—”
Suddenly, my horse collapsed, held down by a giant black shadow. I fell back, my sword nearly slipping right out of my hand. Seth screamed like a little girl. Flick screamed, too, but his scream was a bit more mannish.
“Out of the way, girl!” he shouted, brushing past me and raising his pickaxe at the massive dark shadow pinning down my horse.
The creature looked up. An “Oooooh” escaped my dry, pursed lips.
All-Kinds-Of-Fur. I recognized her from Briar’s stories: she was a big monstrous thing with all sorts of furs sewn together that had simply become part of her body. She was like a big buffalo whose heavy winter coat had begun to shed, only her face looked more bear-like, right down to the imposing mouth full of teeth perfect for eating meat. Blood dripped from her snout as she snarled at Flick.
“Die, beast!” he shouted, swinging his pickaxe at her head. She ducked, then reached out with her giant bear’s paw, slapping him with a heavy thump. He fell back, caught by Seth who either intentionally or unintentionally passed him off to Sam.
The creature looked at me, growling. I swear she was the size of a car. Maybe it was lots of fur. Maybe not. Either way, I found myself taking two very quick steps back. How the heck did a hero ever get the best of this thing?
Oh. Right. With a spear. A long spear.
“Sorry girl,” I whispered to the horse. Thankfully, she was already dead—the creature had made sure of that the moment she’d pounced on the horse. I turned my head, careful to keep my eyes on the creature. “Grab what you can. Move back.”
“Bah, we can take her!” Flick shouted.
“Fine! But let’s have a backup plan.” I watched with disgust as All-Kinds-of-Fur went back to her meal. It was too dark to make out details, but the salty scent of blood and the sloppy smacking of the creature’s mouth was more than enough to make me queasy.
“What do you want us to do?” Sam asked.
“Keep an eye out for whatever is hissing in the darkness,” I said. “If either of these things catches us off-guard, we’ve got zero chance. Zero.”
“What-what should we do if we see it?” Seth asked shakily.
“Yell at the top of your lungs, boy!” shouted Flick. He stepped beside me, holding out his pickaxe. “Oh, I remember you, sweet monster. I remember your father, too. He came by my store looking for you way back in the day. Said he was hunting you. I told him you ate one of our banking customers. Nearly caused Sam to have a fit.”
“Let’s not aggravate her,” I said through bared teeth. She looked up, her mouth drooling, her big dark eyes watching us with an intensity that betrayed intelligence. There was a princess in there, somewhere. I could change her back with my sword, but only if I got close enough to deliver a killing blow.
One paw rested protectively on the horse’s bloody torso. She growled, turning her head toward Flick.
“Distract her,” I ordered.
“With what?” he asked.
“Your sunny disposition.”
He hopped to his left. “You can’t protect your horse from me, foul beast! That meat’s ours fair and square!”
All-Kinds-of-Fur let out a loud, primal scream, turning in his direction. The claws on her paw seemed to extend, digging into the horse’s flesh. I moved just a few inches closer, trying to mentally force the ringing from my ears. She turned back to me and snarled.
“I’ve eaten horse meat before!” Flick said, hopping left again. He raised his pickaxe. “During the Great Depression. I loved it! I’ll gladly take your kill and cook up a few pounds of it. Add some butter to the skillet … a few dashes of salt and pepper … that is, if such a thing exists here, I guess.”
The creature turned back to him, letting out another scream that pushed him back a step. Flick recovered and lunged forward, swinging the pickaxe right at the creature’s head. She dodged, letting the pointy end bounce off her shoulder.
Causing a little spark.
“I got her!” Flick shouted. “Sleep now, beast!”
The creature growled. Flick’s mouth dropped. He brought his pickaxe up again but now she was coming toward him, her powerful hind legs using the horse’s body for leverage. There was no time to second-guess my instincts—my feet were already planted, my muscles tensed. I jumped at her, bringing the blade down across her back. As the blade touched her fur, a bright white spark discharged. I felt the sword bounce off her body. There was a flash of warm heat; I staggered backward, dropping the sword. All-Kinds-of-Fur landed on the ground with a thud.
“Wait!” I said to Flick, who’d already raised his pickaxe again. “Look.”
She was changing. The fur fell loosened. The paws melted into slender human fingers with long nails. Her face gradually became more human. She had a sharp jaw, a little nose and wide-set eyes. Her little fingers clutched at the furs covering her body—no longer part of her body anymore. They just hung from her body like a long, flowing coat. Here’s your monster: now look as she transforms into a human being wearing lots of fur! That’s the power of the patented new Good Technology we put into our entire line of swords!
“She’s changing,” Flick said.
I turned to him. “Duh.”
“What’s going on?” Seth asked. I looked over my shoulder. He was peering over what remained of the fire, not doing his job of keeping lookout.
Another hiss came from somewhere in the darkness. Somewhere to the left of Flick. I searched the black trees, suddenly feeling my Hero Sense tingle again.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing one of the princess’s lifeless arms. “We’re getting out of here.”
“What! With something else following us?” Flick asked incredulously.
“Yeah.”
“Why!”
“Brother, how about you listen to her,” Sam snapped. “She’s killed enough Corrupted to know what she’s doing.”
Another hiss, this time much louder. No, something is telling me this definitely isn’t just a little snake …
Flick grabbed the princess’s other arm. We dragged her around the fire pit; she stirred a little, mumbling something in her sleep. One of her furs—a little wolf fur—caught on a stone and tore away, revealing her long, thin leg.
“We’re not going to get far,” I groaned, bending awkwardly so that the much shorter Flick could help drag the princess.
Another hiss.
“Let me,” Sam said, grabbing the girl’s wrist. He and Flick were ideally suited to the task of dragging a princess: dwarf strength plus dwarf size. They pulled her with ease.
I straightened my back and hurried to Seth’s horse, untying her from the tree. I grabbed the second sack of supplies from Seth and tossed it over the horse’s rump. Beside her, the dwarfs’ ponies whinnied, anxious to be untied as well. “I know, I know,” I whispered to them, feeling a terrible prickling of nerves along my back. “I’m freaked out, too.”
Another hiss. Seth’s horse turned, then reared up. I reached out for her, trying to grab the reins, but her broad shoulder slammed into me, knocking me over. I looked up, expecting to see her front hooves on their way to crashing down right on my head.
But they didn’t.
“Crap,” Seth whispered.
“Look at the ground!” I commanded, slipping out from underneath the horse.
Frozen. Stone. Rock-hard stone. A statue of a bucking bronco, frozen in action.
“What’s out there?” Sam asked anxiously, head down.
“Something you really shouldn’t look at,” I said, grabbing the sack off the horse statue. It was too dark to make out more th
an the shape of the sack, but by the weight of it there was at least some food in there. It would have to do. We couldn’t waste anymore time.
“Who needs eyes,” Flick muttered. “Just tell me what direction to swing my axe and I promise I’ll keep my eyes closed!”
“Come on,” I said, pushing them toward the dark pine trees. “Don’t look back! Whatever you do, don’t look back!”
“What about the ponies?” Seth asked. “They’re gonna—”
“—be a distraction,” I finished, slicing both of their reins as I passed. They turned, confused, their little horse brains not quite sure what to make of their statue friend. There was no time to feel bad now. Now was the time for running blindly through the forest.
Now was the time for crying out every time a dark branch bounced off my face.
Now was the time to nearly trip on an exposed root.
Now was the time to help untangle the princess’s ridiculous furs from a little prickly bush.
Another hiss, this time so deep and so loud that I couldn’t quite place its location. Behind us, and that’s all you need to know. Loud enough to seduce my head to turn a quarter of the way before I willed it to stop. Things are turning to stone back there in that direction! Eyes forward, hero.
“Lots of bushes up ahead!” Seth called out. He was a handful of steps past Flick and Sam, who were breathing heavily but still dragging the poor unconscious princess between them.
“Turn left!” I ordered. My heart raced. The night seemed to be getting darker somehow, and the shadowy thick trees played tricks on me. The low-hanging branches seemed to be swaying …
Just like those trees inside the cave of the twelve dancing princesses.
“Left again!” I shouted. “Stay near the pines!”
We turned again. Up ahead, something caught my eye: a little figure, darting between the trees. My feet refused to put on the brakes. Whatever the danger was up ahead, it couldn’t be any worse than what was behind us.
The figure darted out from behind another pine trunk, stopping and cocking his head left, as if he didn’t want to make eye contact. Little slices of moonlight slipped between the thin canopy of pine needles. The creature’s eyes lit up. His tail swished from side to side.
The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 4 Page 18