The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 4

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The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 4 Page 29

by Isabella Fontaine


  “We’re out of time.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out his tie. He grabbed it like a child receiving a sucker, staring up at me in awe. I shrugged. “The bartender left it behind his bar when he ran away from me.”

  “You do have that effect on our kind.” He looped it around his neck, retying it without the need of a mirror. He tightened the knot against the dirty collar of his shirt. “Very well. Let’s finish this then.”

  I turned to Seth. He was wearing a grim face, staring out the window. “No more looking,” I announced, giving the queen a brisk nod. “Your highness. It’s time for action.”

  “I wish you the best of luck,” she said. “If you see any stray townsfolk …”

  “Send them here?”

  She nodded. A tear sneaked out of one eye, rolling down her cheek. “We will do our best to protect them all.”

  “What’s the plan?” Seth asked, falling in behind Sam as we made our way down the empty corridor of the keep. We passed painting after painting, each one depicting a moment from Grimms’ Fairy Tales. Cinderella trying on her slipper. Hansel and Gretel encountering the magical gingerbread house. The Musicians of Bremen, frightening a burglar.

  The snow-covered path leading northeast.

  “We’re going to go rescue Agnim’s wife,” I said, “and then, hopefully, Agnim is going to be so grateful that he’s going to call off this whole Armageddon thing.”

  “And when that fails?” Sam asked.

  I took a deep breath. “Then I stab him right between his eyes.”

  “What if you don’t kill him instead?”

  I gave Seth a sideways glance. He shrugged. “I mean, war doesn’t really solve many problems, if you remember our history classes. Do you really think a sword is going to stop Agnim?”

  “I have lots of sharp blades,” I pointed out, tapping the two daggers strapped to my belt.

  “Your shiny optimism is pretty much the only reason I haven’t pooped my pants yet,” Seth said.

  We made our way outside, down the main road to the western edge of town. A few townsfolk ran past us, up the steep road leading to the castle. Women and children and people who’d decided to grown old. But they were few in number. There were women wearing armor stationed throughout the city. Kids in armor, too. No one wanted to be Corrupted.

  The devil creature was sitting on his horse at the edge of the river, overseeing about fifty soldiers wearing blue clothes and shiny—probably never before used—armor. Shiny new chest plates. Shiny new helmets. Shiny new enchanted weapons, glowing just a hint of blue.

  The devil creature had opted for no helmet. Probably because none would fit over his horns, I guess.

  “What’s your name, anyway?” I asked.

  “Hans,” he said simply.

  Of course. Why even ask at this point?

  “Man,” Seth muttered, staring out across the river. The Corrupted were standing in one long row, watching us. “This would be the perfect moment for Flick to say something inspiring.”

  Sam took a deep breath and clutched his pickaxe. “There’s fewer bat creatures than before. We can thank my brother for that, at least.”

  “You’re underdressed, little man,” said the devil creature. “Every single soldier is going to count if we hope to stand a chance.”

  “We don’t stand a chance,” Sam said. “And I’ll have you know I’m the exact opposite of underdressed. This outfit is worth more than Snow White’s castle.”

  “But you’ve got some horse poop on your pants,” Seth pointed out.

  Sam looked down. It was true. The moment afforded us one last chance to smile.

  Then, suddenly, we were at war.

  There came a thundering shout on the north end of the town. The giants had arrived, and in a moment people were screaming, a home was smashed to pieces, and the earth shuddered. A dozen archers broke rank but Hans stopped them, turning his horse.

  “Reinforcements will handle the northern army!” he shouted. “And you’ll handle the western army! Back to your place!”

  They obliged, lining back up along the shore.

  “This is it,” I whispered, one hand running over my leather armor. A quick double-check to ensure the straps were tight and my vitals were well-protected. The worst everyone else would get was a quick bout of unconsciousness—Seth and I didn’t have that protection. The only reason we didn’t have steel armor was because we weren’t planning on sticking around to fight to the death.

  I glanced at Sam, who clutched his pickaxe in one hand, swinging it up and down. But in the grand scheme of things, their fate is worse.

  “Steady now,” Hans growled. “Steady.”

  The monsters were bringing their makeshift wooden bridge to the shoreline, just like Sam had predicted. There were eight bat-creatures in all, each one with a rope lashed to its ankle. They lifted one end of the bridge up, dragging it slowly over the water where the river narrowed, their long wings flapping quickly. They screamed.

  “Scream back!” Hans shouted, lifting his broadsword. The archers and townsfolk—men and women both—all lifted their heads and screamed. Seth screamed. Sam screamed. I joined in, pointing my sword up at them.

  “Now fire!” Hans commanded.

  The archers lifted their bows. Fifty arrows with glowing blue steel tips soared through the air. Five of the creatures were hit, and the remaining three couldn’t hold up the bridge. They fell into the water, flapping their wings to keep from going under. The bridge followed, and the current immediately began tugging on it. Agnim’s minions grabbed the other end, trying to pull it out of the water. But the river already had a grip, and in moments the entire bridge was floating away, bouncing once against the hull of the Leviathan II.

  We cheered.

  “We’re winning!” Seth shouted. A shadow fell over his face. He looked up. “Oh crap.”

  I followed his gaze—the golden dragon. Its long bat-like wings blotted out the sun as it glided over the trees beyond the river. It flew over the Leviathan II, screaming like a t-rex. Hans shouted for more arrows and the archers sent them into the air. They bounced harmlessly off the dragon’s golden scales.

  It landed on the other side of the river, then reached out with both arms, stretching over the river. Water trickled over its shiny scales, fighting the intrusion. But the dragon’s claws dug into the reed-lined bank, pulling up soft earth and holding its body in place. The Corrupted soldiers climbed onto its back, running across the scaly surface in two rows—one row on each side of its spiny spikes—landing on the riverbank.

  “Princesses!” Hans shouted. The archers at the north end of the line tore away their robes. It was Snow White’s eleven princesses, each drawing their curved swords and wearing a grim face of determination. No fear. No worry. These chicks had fought Corrupted before.

  “Holy crap!” Seth said. “That was totally sexy.”

  The princesses swarmed the dragon. It lifted its mouth, knocking three step-mothers right off its snout before they had a chance to jump off. They fell to the ground; the dragon took a breath and blew a cloud of orange fire. The princesses dove left and right, effortlessly parrying the attacks coming from the Corrupted Riverend townsfolk who came at them with pitchforks and rusted swords. The princesses’ curved blades cut through the air in a blur. Every few moments, a bright spark exploded between the blade and one of the unfortunate Corrupted.

  “Captain!” Hans shouted, tightening his grip on his horse’s reins. “Get that dragon out of here!”

  I turned; Ahab had appeared at the front of the ship, gun drawn. Two sailors cut the lines tying the ship to the dock and the current pulled it toward the center of the river. Ten oars emerged from the little holes along the hull. They paddled in symphony, pushing the ship right toward the golden dragon’s stomach.

  “Alice!” Sam stepped in front of me, using his pickaxe to parry an incoming blow from a fanatical step-mother who looked like she’d recently licked an electrical outlet. Her hatchet went fly
ing out of her hands from the force of Sam’s blow; he brought it upward, hitting her in the jaw. A spark exploded between them, sending her right into two Corrupted townsfolk—a husband and wife, both of them wearing nice Sunday clothes underneath mismatched armor.

  “Watch what you’re doing!” Sam said. He pointed to Hans, who was using his broadsword to swipe at a half-dozen Corrupted trying to take down his horse. The horse reared up, pushing them back … right toward us.

  It’s go time.

  “Seth!” I shouted, swinging my sword in a wide arc and hitting two minions. The blade bounced off their armor so I swung again, this time aiming for one of their exposed necks. A spark burst between us and just like that, the man was lying on the ground unconscious. The other—a mangled step-mother with fiery red hair and an owl’s face—rolled away from me, right into Sam who half-fell, swinging his pickaxe downward like he was mining for some of the sweetest gold he’d ever seen.

  Another spark. Another unconscious minion.

  But more were coming, running across the back of the dragon and overwhelming the princesses. The Corrupted hopped off the dragon’s snout, slipping past the princesses who didn’t dare move within the reach of those razor-sharp teeth that were as long as their swords. They met Snow White’s frightened townsfolk, pushing them back toward us.

  “Seth!” I said, pointing above the dragon. Two of the bat-creatures had gotten loose and were terrorizing our archers near the bank of the river. “They can’t fight off those things and the Corrupted! Get rid of them!”

  “Right!” He pulled an arrow, fired, missed, cursed, and fired again. The second shot was a direct hit. One bat-creature fell, changing, the wings flitting away like ashen paper before splashing into the river. It sank below the water; when it surfaced, it was a man again. He floated past the captain’s ship, bumping into the hull.

  “Sam!” I said. “Protect Seth while he takes care of that other thing!”

  “Right.” Sam swung his axe, knocking another Corrupted Riverend villager off his feet, splitting the armor chest plate in half. Sam stepped back and I stepped forward, stabbing the villager in the chest as I passed. The spark pushed on my blade—I glanced once over my shoulder to ensure he was unconscious before making my way to the dragon.

  There were bodies everywhere. The sound of steel clanging on steel rang in my ears. Seth’s arrows soared over my head, trying to hit that last pesky bat-creature. Our own soldiers were being pushed back as more Corrupted slipped past the princesses—now only seven strong. We needed to move that dragon.

  Better to have him flying around than to have him sitting there doing his best impression of a bridge …

  The captain’s ship passed me on the shore. They’d picked up speed now, cutting through the water and sending waves rippling along the shore. Ahab was standing at the stern, leaning on the railing, a look of grim determination on his face. Faster, captain … faster!

  I fought off another Corrupted townsman, tripping him with one foot and then swinging my sword at his face. The spark that erupted between us sent him flying back, knocking over two of his Corrupted allies and giving a handful of exhausted good guys an opening to finish them all off.

  I turned back to the dragon. The ship was so close now that Ahab had begun laughing maniacally, pounding the railing. “Faster!” he shouted. “Faster! Cry havoc and release the dogs of war!”

  The front of the Leviathan II slammed into the torso of the dragon. A dozen Corrupted soldiers who’d been on the creature’s back fell into the river, their armor carrying them to the bottom. Little sparks appeared underneath the glistening surface. The dragon snorted flames right into the path of a dozen little demonic-looking elves no taller than Tom Thumb, creating a shower of sparks. The elves flew back and landed on the ground, smoke trickling up from their miniature armor.

  The dragon, meanwhile, had taken to the air, snapping the ship’s bowspirit off in the process.

  “Arrows!” Hans shouted. But we were overwhelmed. There were still a good hundred Corrupted that had crossed the river and they were pushing back our own blue-clad soldiers with a fierce intensity. I reached over one of Snow White’s unconscious soldiers, grabbing a round shield.

  There’s more than one way to fight Corrupted, hero!

  One of the wolves had me in its sights, the very same wolf that had gone for Flick.

  “Alice!” Sam shouted.

  “I see him,” I growled. The wolf’s fur along its spine stood on end. It sprinted toward me, knocking aside two of our archers. Electricity surged through my muscles. I knew what to do the moment I saw the wolf’s thick legs tense up; it lunged and I stepped sideways, swinging my shield like a club. The flat face smashed into the wolf’s muzzle, knocking it sideways. The wolf recovered fast, using its paw to knock aside one of the princesses who’d valiantly come to my aid.

  “Uncool,” I said, getting its attention before it could deliver a killing blow. It turned, growling. I ran my sword across the ground. Without looking, I dug the toes of my shoe into the dirt, kicking it in the wolf’s face. The wolf stretched its neck, snapping its jaws. I ducked, raising my shield and stabbing it in the stomach.

  A bright spark. And one unconscious wolf, down and out.

  “Reinforcements!” Hans shouted. Two dozen more soldiers poured out of the houses on the western edge of town. Men and women wearing shiny armor, and two young boys wearing shiny skin. One of the golden boys ran past a handful of fallen soldiers, and as he did the soldiers’ armor and weapons peeled away, covering the boy in a protective shield. He hurled himself at a pack of rabid-looking animals—dogs, cats, foxes, letting his mishmash of armor protect him from their snouts.

  “Maybe you have a destiny after all,” I whispered.

  Above us, the dragon screamed.

  “Seth!” I shouted, running back to him and Sam. Sam was desperately fighting off a woman who was covered in a thick purple goo and madly swinging a pitchfork, keeping the dwarf at a distance. I got behind her but she turned, swinging her pitchfork in a wide arc.

  “Be careful!” Sam said. “That jam will melt your armor like acid!”

  “Jam?” I asked, sniffing the air. Underneath the smell of sweat and burnt armor and fear was the gentle fragrance of grape. I risked a quick glance down—Sam was right: a few flecks of the purple goo had landed on my armor when the woman had spun around, and it had eaten through the leather in a dozen little dime-sized spots.

  The woman turned again, swinging her pitchfork at Sam and nearly taking his head clean off. I closed the distance between us with a quick fencing advance, thrusting my blade right at a particularly chunky piece of goo clinging to the woman’s back. A spark erupted and she fell to the ground.

  “Seth,” I said, pointing to the dragon. “His scales on his belly are soft. Aim for his heart and take him down before he turns all of us into crispy barbeque!”

  Seth grabbed an arrow and drew back his bow, aiming up. The dragon had turned in the air and was flying above the river, bearing down on the Leviathan II. Seth fired; the arrow sailed underneath the dragon, landing on the other side of the river.

  The dragon opened its mouth. Ahab was still standing on the deck of the ship, watching the creature approach. He raised his pistol and fired. A little spark flashed on the dragon’s torso and for a moment, I thought it might fall from the sky. But no—the spark was simply the pellet-sized bullet bouncing off the creature’s hard golden scales.

  Fire escaped from the dragon’s mouth, engulfing the Leviathan II. The force of the flames pushed Ahab back. He tumbled over the side of the ship, splashing into the water. A moment later, his unconscious body rose to the surface, drifting past the burning ship. Blackened fragments of his beautiful coat floated away. More sailors who’d been belowdeck came rushing out of the hatch, some getting caught in the flames and falling, others diving into the river and swimming their way to shore only to be swarmed by Agnim’s monsters.

  The sails blackened and curled u
p. Fabric flitted away in little pieces with burning orange edges. The main mast collapsed, nearly crushing the ship in half. The current of the river pushed it sideways, and the water hissed as it kissed the flames that were busily eating away the hull. Another mast fell, sending chunks of flaming timber exploding in every direction.

  “Thank you, captain,” I whispered. Above us, the dragon roared. He was coming down for another pass. “Seth, try again!”

  “It’s my last arrow,” Seth said frantically. He held out the bow to me. “Here!”

  “I’ve never fired a bow in my life!”

  “I can’t hit it!”

  “Whatever you decide,” Sam said, stepping back and calmly knocking aside a Corrupted spider-creature, “do it fast.”

  “Seth, point the arrow and fire! You can do this!”

  “I’m not the hero,” Seth said, raising the bow. He pulled the string back with two shaky fingers.

  “You’re a hero,” I told him. I put a hand on his shoulder. “And this ain’t the first giant lizard you’ll have taken down, either. Take a deep breath.” He took a deep breath. I could hear bad guys and good guys near the riverbank crying out in fear, knowing full-well that the dragon wasn’t all that interested in distinguishing between friend or foe.

  The dragon roared again, abruptly cut off by the flammable bile gathering in its throat.

  “Fire,” I whispered.

  Seth released the arrow. Everyone stopped fighting for a moment, turning and watching. The dragon flapped both wings once, raising its body up—but it was too late. The arrow sliced into its soft belly, sending sparks raining down over the river. Smoke trailed out of the corners of its mouth. Its eyes glazed over.

  And then it fell. Everyone broke away from who they were fighting, fleeing the riverbank. The dragon landed with a thundering crash, kicking up dirt and knocking us off our feet. I got up, feeling the monster’s low groan deep inside my body. It wasn’t unconscious yet. It was still alive! The dragon roared, clawing at the ground and pulling up chunks of wet mud.

 

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