The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 4

by Isabella Fontaine

  The fox.

  “This way,” he called out. “And don’t turn to look at the creature or you’ll be turned to stone!”

  Seth stopped in his tracks. “Get out of town! That’s a talking fox.”

  “Don’t stop!” I ordered, pushing him hard in the back.

  “Alice,” Sam huffed.

  “Don’t turn around! Just follow the talking fox!”

  “How,” Seth huffed, “many … times … have I heard … that.”

  Another hiss, so close I could almost feel the creature’s snake-like tongue on the back of my neck. Goosebumps popped up on my skin. A chill ran down my body. The thing was close, so close that I could hear it moving over the dried pine needles littering the forest floor. Sliding over the dried pine needles. My imagination started cycling through anything it could think of: a giant snake … a lizard … a serpent … a dragon with a long tail …

  “Through here!” the fox called out from up ahead where the pine trees thinned out, revealing a clearing and a dense thicket of black bushes the size of a big industrial dumpster. His shadow disappeared into a small opening near the base.

  “Alice,” Sam huffed.

  “Just trust him!”

  “I don’t!”

  “Well just trust me, then!” I fought the urge to run faster and pass up Sam and Flick. No, I had to bring up the rear.

  And hope whatever was chasing us wasn’t close enough to pounce.

  “To infinity and beyond!” Seth shouted, diving headfirst into the opening. The dwarfs reached it next, slipping in side by side and pulling the princess through. I stopped, waiting, feeling all the hair on my neck standing on end. I was scared. My eyes hurt because they were so desperate to see what was about to kill me.

  Don’t turn around … you can’t turn around …

  Another hiss. The dry grass at the edge of the clearing crackled under the weight of whatever was slithering over it. My entire body shivered. It took every ounce of willpower not to turn and face my hunter. Every breath came out fast like a camera’s shutter. I couldn’t wait any longer. My body wouldn’t let me. I dove for the opening, reaching out blindly in the darkness and grabbing the princess’s foot.

  “Pull hard!” I screamed. “Pull, Sam!”

  For a moment, nothing happened. Damn you, Sam! You betrayed me!

  Then came the pull. It was so hard that I nearly let go of the princess’s foot. Something slimy grabbed my shoe, wrenching it off. I screamed frantically, crawling on the soft dirt ground, sure that the creature would follow me inside. First, it’ll peel away your sock and nibble on your toes … then it’ll turn you to stone …

  Another strong pull. The room opened up and I felt myself fall with the princess, landing on soft dirt. With one shaky hand, I pointed the enchanted sword up toward the opening and closed my eyes.

  Chapter 6

  “Don’t look!” I shouted, averting my gaze from the opening but keeping the blade of the sword directly underneath it. We were in a big room. On the other end was a bookcase with scattered books piled sloppily on each shelf and more sitting in a pile in front of the bottom shelf. Left of that were a small woodstove and a few shelves full of pots and pans and some cabinets built into the stone wall. A little circular wooden table with four chairs sat in the center of the room on a red rug with little tassels. Sitting on the table was a lantern containing a bright yellow flame.

  To my left was a little bed with fluffy white pillows and a tussled brown blanket. Seth’s shoes poked out from underneath.

  Another hiss. The sound slipped out of the opening above my head.

  She’s coming. Crawling through the opening because she knows we can’t look at her.

  “The mirror!” the fox said, nodding with his head to the vanity mirror hanging up over the dresser beside the bed.

  Flick and Sam ran over, reaching up on their tip-toes and grabbing the mirror.

  “Don’t look!” I shouted again. “And also hurry!”

  Seth’s shoes slipped underneath the blanket. “Oh man we’re either going to be eaten or turned to stone,” came his muffled voice. “This is totally ironic or something!”

  “We’re going to be fine,” I said, “provided you get that mirror in place and—gaaaah!”

  There she was, in the mirror. I don’t know what scared me more: the fear that I would turn to stone at any moment, or the terrible gray snakes slithering on top of the woman’s skull. She had a beautiful face—just a little too, um, gray. Her skin was cracked, like she’d forgotten to take off an old clay mask. She crawled closer to the opening, and in the dim light I could see the beautiful blue irises of her eyes—there was beauty hidden behind that mask. And probably nice hair hiding underneath the writhing snakes.

  “What’s happening?” Flick asked, cocking his head.

  I didn’t respond. The Medusa creature wasn’t looking at me in the reflection. Surely she could see me … couldn’t she?

  Or maybe the sight of two plump, tasty dwarfs is too distracting.

  “Alice!” Sam asked frantically, keeping his head turned.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t draw attention to myself; she was inching closer to the opening, her long, twig-like fingers reaching the edge and clutching the packed brown earth. The nails dug in, breaking off chunks that landed on my head. As long as I looked at the reflection, I was safe. And as long as I didn’t linger too much on the sight of the woman’s snake-like lower body, I wouldn’t puke.

  Sam and Flick. The fox. They were all turned around. Sitting ducks. The fur on the fox’s black tail was sticking straight up like he’d just licked an electrical socket.

  Another hiss. She leaned out of the opening, her snake-like tongue slipping out between her sharp teeth.

  Now!

  I closed my eyes and reached up with the sword, feeling it connect with the same strange force that I’d felt when striking All-Kinds-of-Fur. Even with my eyes closed, I could see the spark—it lit up the darkness behind my eyelids.

  The impact knocked the sword from my grasp. I opened my eyes, looking in the mirror. The woman was hanging halfway out of the passage, her slender pale arms pointing down toward the sword. The snakes had been replaced by curly brown hair, draped over her head like a curtain.

  “What happened?” Seth asked, peering our from under the covers. “Is it safe to look? Alice? Are you dead?”

  “Not dead,” I sighed. “Hey Sam … turn around.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m more than content staring at this dirt wall over here.”

  Shoot! Well, no point in drawing this out.

  I took a deep breath and looked up, my eyes very hesitantly landing on the body of the woman. I touched my face—no stone. My muscles relaxed. My hand, still shaking, pulled my hair back behind my ears.

  “It’s cool,” I said. “Seth. Help me pull her out of the passage.”

  He very slowly pulled away the blanket, grimacing, expecting the worst. When nothing happened, he hopped over to the opening. Together, we grabbed the young woman’s arms and carefully pulled her out, setting her on the dirt floor. Her eyes were closed but she looked human, at least. And her skin had gone from dried mud to enviously beautiful.

  “Whew. Not the best dresser,” I murmured, examining the old rags that afforded her at least a little dignity. “Although I guess if your look turns people to stone, you don’t have to worry about making any fashion mistakes.”

  “Here,” Sam said, tossing me the spare blanket from my knapsack. “Let’s at the very least give the girl something.”

  I pulled her to rest next to All-Kinds-Of-Fur and draped the blanket over both of them. They may wake confused, but at least they’ll both wake with something to cover them. And they’ll wake in a better mood. It was a downright good gesture from Sam, and I was surprised to find that it irked me a bit.

  Why? Because you didn’t think of it first? Or because if we’d camped on the road like he’d suggested, we probably would have bee
n able to escape with our horses?

  Setting aside my conflicted feelings for a moment, I got the distinct impression “all of the above” was the right answer.

  “Might I suggest refraining from capturing any more young women?” the fox asked. He hopped onto one of the wooden chairs, then hopped onto the table.

  “Oh, gross,” Seth said. “What if we have to eat there? Your butt’s on it! Also, who lives here? Also, is he or she going to try and kill us too?”

  The fox cocked his head. “Quite the interesting choice of questions. To answer them in order: my butt is clean, no one lives here, and I think you’re safe for now.”

  “And who are you?” Flick asked. “There’s more than a few foxes in Grimms’ Fairy Tales, and not all of them are trustworthy.”

  “I belong to a tale about a man and horse,” the fox said. “And I’m more than trustworthy because I’m good. Sometime in the near future, these two women,” he nodded his head to the two sleeping young women, “will wake up and they will be good, too.”

  “Because of the sword?” I asked.

  The fox’s tail wagged a few times. “Precisely. And now, as for the two of you …” He cocked his head and looked at Seth, then me. He had dark brown eyes and a black snout and just about the cutest little pointed ears of all time. Could he be evil? No way. Not with those ears.

  “We don’t belong here,” I said. “My friend and I are trying to find a way home.”

  The fox’s tail flopped on the table. Seth made a gagging noise. “OK, am I the only one who’s grossed out by an animal on the table?”

  The fox ignored him. “I’d hoped you had greater aspirations, hero.”

  Flick grunted, crossing his arms. “You’re a clever one, aren’t ya? What other aspirations do you speak of?”

  “You’re talking about Agnim,” Sam said. He gave the fox his cold, calculating look: narrowed eyes, lips tightened, eyebrows creased. “And the Corruption that threatens this land.”

  “Oh, I’d say threatens is an understatement.” The fox hopped off the table and glanced at Seth.

  “Thanks,” Seth said.

  The fox turned back to me. I fought the urge to reach out and rub his furry belly. Did foxes like having their bellies rubbed? I kinda wanted to find out. “The Corruption has always existed here but it’s never been a problem like it is now. Agnim’s arrival changed all of that.”

  “OK, hold on.” I made a T with my hands. “First, you are just absolutely the cutest critter ever and you need to stop being so cute so I can focus.” I reached down, scratching him behind the ears and squealing when he made a little contented humming sound. “OK, that’s out of my system. Second, you need to start at the beginning and tell us how you know so much.”

  The fox sighed and pulled back his ears, giving him a fierce look. “How’s this for less cute?”

  “Better. Thank you.”

  “As to your other request, I can certainly tell you what I know. How I know it is a simple enough answer: I listen. I learn. I’m a curious animal with a social personality and I’ve been here quite a while. Plenty of time to piece things together. Just like I did on earth, you know. Right up until I met a woman named Juliette.”

  My heart nearly broke. “She … killed you?”

  The fox nodded. “And rightfully so! The Corruption had begun changing me. I knew it well enough and had made my peace with your wonderful world.”

  “Apparently he never ran into a trapper,” Seth said, nudging Flick with his elbow. “Am I right or what?”

  The fox’s ears pulled back further. “Oh, I ran into a few. Thankfully for them, human-made traps couldn’t harm me.”

  “We’re digressing,” Sam said impatiently. “Please, if you have information that can help us, we must know.”

  “Ah, of course.” The fox paced between the table and the bed. “You’re new. Worried. Anxious.”

  “Impatient,” Seth added, counting off on his fingers. “Suspicious. Edgy. Nervous …”

  “… Sweaty,” Flick added. “Scared. High-strung.”

  Sam turned, glaring at both of them.

  “It’s expected,” the fox said. “No doubt your dwarf brother here was feeling the same way when he arrived. I did, too. And just think about the poor handful of folk who arrived here first! No doubt they were a hundred times more afraid. This giant world, after all, was missing its principal characters.”

  “But one of them wasn’t afraid,” Sam said.

  The fox shook his head. “Quite right.”

  “Why?” Seth asked.

  “Because one of them brought the Corruption with him,” Sam answered.

  “Or her,” the fox said. He shrugged. “It could have been a woman. Plenty of nasty step-mothers in those fairy tales.”

  “I bet it was one of the wolves,” Seth said. “Briar told me stories about the wolves. They were all pretty freaking crazy dudes.”

  “Briar …” Suddenly it hit me. I knew where we were.

  The briar patch. Br’er Rabbit’s home.

  I sat down in the chair, chest heaving.

  “Alice,” Seth said, all humor drained from his voice. He laid a hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Seth … this is Briar’s house.”

  He looked around. “That’s impossible. He’s not from a fairy tale.”

  “No,” Sam said, “but he was created using the same magic paper that the Brothers Grimm used.”

  “So that means Briar …”

  Seth stopped. It was a good thing, too—if he’d said the words aloud, I would have broken down and bawled like a little kid. Like, serious Life-Isn’t-Fair bawling. The kind of bawling I did when I finally came to terms with Seth’s death.

  And of course the moment that image came to mind, I did start bawling.

  “All right,” said the fox. “That’s enough for one night. You’ve all been through enough and emotions are running high. Let’s get a few more hours of sleep and then someone with thumbs can volunteer to cook us a little breakfast.”

  Seth led me to the bed. I reached out, blinking away tears and hiccupping every few breaths as I found my way under the covers.

  “I don’t suppose there are any extra blankets lying around?” Sam asked the fox. “We couldn’t exactly bring many supplies with us on account of the monster.”

  “Spare blankets in the dresser,” said the fox. “I tell you, this place has everything …”

  Blackness. Only this time, there was something else, too: a pair of golden eyes, too big to be human. A heavy, wet, guttural grunt echoed in the darkness. The black pupils moved left to right, left to right, left to right, as rhythmic as the swinging pendulum in the sausage’s home. Whatever it was … it was looking for me.

  I woke with a sore muscle in my back and itchy eyes. Looks like you still feel pain here.

  The sweet smell of cooked pancakes wafted into my nostrils. I sat up, rubbing my back and looking around. Flick was standing on one of the chairs in front of the stove, flipping pancakes onto a white porcelain plate. He grabbed a big wooden ladle and poured thick pancake batter into the skillet. It immediately sizzled and sent another fresh cloud of sweet steam into the air.

  “You say this was all here when you found the place?” he asked.

  The fox was sitting in front of the vanity mirror, eyes narrowed as if he didn’t quite trust his reflection. “Yes. Including the fully stocked basement, which has an abundance of carrots that appear to be impervious to rot.”

  “Excellent,” Flick said. “I hate rotten food. Had enough of that on earth. Had a taste for the stuff on account of the Corruption. But I didn’t like it … the Corruption liked it.”

  I let my legs hang off the edge of the bed. Sam and Seth were each laying on a fluffy rectangle of a blanket. Sam was lying near the kitchen area while Seth had chosen a spot under the table. Both stirred when Flick clanged the skillet against the stove’s iron grill.

  Seth sat up, yawned, and found me with sl
eep-encrusted eyes. “You all right?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing would come out. I felt like going back to sleep again. The idea of escaping this place had now become far less tempting.

  Briar. You can’t be a Corrupted, Briar.

  Seth got up and walked over. He gently grabbed my arm. “Let’s sit at the table. Come on, dudette.”

  I let him lead me to the table. Sam was up, too, and had made his way to the mirror to try and right his bed hair. When he was done, he grabbed his suit coat from the brass hook hanging next to the entrance and put it on.

  “Here ya go,” Flick said, setting the big plate of pancakes on the table. He brought over three-pronged forks and more plates, plus a little glass jar of maple syrup. “No honey, I guess.”

  “Briar doesn’t like honey,” I whispered, closing my eyes to fight more tears.

  “See, this is why I didn’t want the fox sitting on the table,” Seth said, using one of the forks to scoop two pancakes onto a clean plate. “Cause now we’re eating where his butt was.”

  “Again, for the record: my butt is quite clean.” The fox walked over, glancing up at Seth and making a squeaky little whining noise.

  “What is it?” Seth asked.

  “A pancake would be nice.”

  “Oh. Right.” He put a pancake on the plate and set it on the floor. “Syrup?”

  “No, but thank you nonetheless.” The fox bent his head and chomped it in half, smacking his mouth a few times.

  “Alice?” Seth asked, pointing to the pancakes.

  I shook my head. He seemed so far away. Everyone sitting at the table did. I couldn’t shake the desolation. I’d wanted to get us out of here as soon as possible. But now I couldn’t shake the fact that the moment I returned to earth, everything would change. I would still be the hero until the day I died. But Briar …

  Don’t think about it. Put it out of your mind.

  “We need to talk more about this place,” Sam told the fox. He let his brother slide one pancake onto the plate, then drizzled syrup onto the center in one specific, controlled puddle. “You were speaking last night about Agnim and the Corruption. What have you learned of it in your time here?”