The Forgotten Mountain (The Collectors' Society Book 3)

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The Forgotten Mountain (The Collectors' Society Book 3) Page 22

by Heather Lyons


  What is this?

  “There is always time for a first.” The Wise Woman peers within Victor’s bag. “Oh, your work is excellent. This will do quite nicely.”

  Finn makes his way into the cottage right as she dumps the bag’s contents onto a clean table. I do not think it would be an understatement to say that he, Mary, and I are completely taken aback at what we’re looking at. Various bloody chunks of what appear to be freshly cut-up pieces of flesh and organs now decorate the table.

  “What in God’s name is that?” Mary’s whisper is strangled.

  “You ain’t seen nothing, yet,” the A.D. mutters. Nearby, Grymsdyke quietly agrees with him.

  “The queen paid two prices last night.” The Wise Woman sifts through the pieces. “Although, she may not have known so until now. While it was my hope that we would encounter a certain fiend who has plagued the forest and village for far too long, it was certainly not a guarantee. The giant demanded sacrifices for years, ate those who dared to breach the forest, and destroyed many homes and families. We required a hero, a champion, and last night, that is exactly what we got. A queen slew the giant. In return, his blood provided her added strength to fight my sister’s enchantment. Today, his meat will aid in another enchantment, one cast by me.” She uses the back of her freshly bloody hand to wipe stray hairs from her face. “I cannot completely shield you from any of the Wise Women’s enchantments, just as they cannot shield anyone from mine. None of us can destroy the others’—we can only alter. But if you are right, and the thirteenth sister is in league with the Piper, I must do what I can to help balance the scales. The payment for such an enchantment was the giant’s death.”

  “Why did you not take care of the giant?” Mary asks.

  “We do not intercede unless asked, and no one, in the many years I have lived here, has ever come to request my aid with the giant.”

  “But, if you cannot intercede without a request, how is it you are able to offer us one?”

  “But you did ask.” The Wise Woman turns to face the A.D. “He did, just this morning. He wished for a way to protect your group. And as the queen gave me extra payment, I will honor the request.”

  The confused and yet fairly pleased Who, me? look on Jack Dawkin’s face is comical.

  “And as he and the healer went to fetch the necessary pieces to aid in my spell, alongside others for future use, I have now received three payments. Your protection will thusly be two-fold.”

  The A.D. whistles. “Well, hot damn.”

  Gertrude drags over another of the bags and dumps the contents of that one out upon the table, too.

  The smell, I must admit, is utterly foul. Any appetite I might have had from the comforting scent of bread baking evaporates without a trace. As if she can sense this, the Wise Woman deadpans, “Perhaps it will be best for you all to eat outside. The rain has stopped for now.”

  It is a very good idea. Still, once we are all outdoors, none of us has the desire to consume anything in the basket Mary brings. Instead, we use our time to plan. Victor pulls out a map of Germany he brought and spreads it across the stump of a fallen tree. “According to the Librarian’s notes, we’re here.” He taps on a dot labeled Sababurg. “Hamelin is here.” He taps another dot, this one marked Hameln. “By the way, here’s the actual Koppenberg Mountain.” He taps a dot way over in Belgium. “I think we need to consider that, hypnotized or not, it would be difficult to march a hundred and thirty children over three hundred miles—therefore, we ought to focus in on Hamelin and its surrounding environs. From what I can tell, it’s about ninety-five kilometers, or roughly fifty-eight miles between Sababurg and Hamelin. Not so bad in a car, but we don’t have a car.”

  Finn’s nose scrunches up. “On horseback, or in a carriage . . . That’s probably eight, ten hours? If the roads are good. We don’t have either. We’ve got a cart with a single horse pulling five people. So we’ll want to tack on quite a bit of extra time, too, because the horse won’t be able to deal with it all.” He pauses. “Or we can simply edit there once the Wise Woman’s enchantment is done. Do you guys expect the Piper to be there?”

  I touch his shoulder. “It’s worth a try. Your father is investigating the residence Sara told us about, but chances are, as with his other abodes, it will be empty. A team is also searching the school he was associated with. When he left the Institute, he walked through a doorway. He edited, Finn. And he did so into the library at Bücherei.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “While his music befuddled me, and I was utterly disoriented from the explosion, I recognized the room quite clearly. Wherever he went, the library was there, waiting. And as it is no longer in New York, I cannot help but think he hid it away somewhere else, somewhere one must edit into.”

  “You think he’s come home.”

  “I think it’s a very good possibility, yes.”

  “We have to assume the arsehole was able to get information out of Sara,” the A.D. says. “She mentioned having holes in her memories. Wen, too. If he was listening in on us this entire time, he probably knows that the Society never interacted with fairy tale Timelines. Having a home base in one would be the perfect snake hole to hide in.”

  Grymsdyke peers down at the map. “Agreed.”

  Finn says quietly, “I can’t believe she bugged the Institute.” His muscles tense beneath my touch.

  “I doubt she had a choice.” I lean my cheek against his shoulder. “In the end, she sacrificed much in order to try and keep you all safe from herself.”

  Mary scowls. “I can’t believe you’re defending her. She attacked you!”

  Victor places a hand on her shoulder, but it does little to tame the anger. And I fear I stoke it, because I admit, “Nevertheless, I believe her.”

  She plucks a wildflower out of the grass, her lips puckered. The waters between her and Sara, whatever they may be, must run deep.

  “I do, too.” The A.D. coughs into his fist. “I’m pissed off at her, but I believe what she told us. Mary, you didn’t see the pain she was in. She was bleedin’ from the nose, for crying out loud. The blood vessels in her eyes burst. She was a right mess, sitting in a puddle of piss and who knows what else, doing her best to spit out what she could to Alice and me. I basically had to carry her to a nearby motel. Her legs had given out. When the door was shut behind us, there were bruises all over her neck, forehead, and arms that weren’t there before. She looked as if the best boxer in the world used her for his punching bag.”

  My God. “Why didn’t you mention that in debriefing?”

  “She didn’t want me to. Said it made no difference, claimed she’d made her bed and now she had to lie in it.” He pauses, his eyes turning painfully serious. “She heard that music when we were there, Alice. The one she told us about.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I had to tie her up. Well, not so much to immobilize her, but she asked me to ensure she had enough length of rope to get her to the loo and the shower but not the front door, and it was her choice. She was bloomin’ terrified of what she would do. She made me take the phone out and put a Do Not Disturb note on the door. I gave Marianne her whereabouts before I left, so she could go check on her. Dunno if she’ll still be there or not.”

  Mary ceases the plucking of petals long enough to hold out a hand. “You’re telling us that you tied up Sara Crewe like a prisoner in some low-rent motel and then just left?”

  He nods. “One she thought nobody would come and check on her in.”

  Finn sends a rock he’d been rolling in his hands flying, a quiet curse escaping his lips. And then he turns and walks straight into the woods. Victor takes a step to follow, but I block him. “Let me.”

  I find Finn nearly five minutes later, his back against a tree. I say nothing upon approach; I simply come to stand next to him.

  Another good sixty seconds pass before he finally speaks. “She’s a good person, Alice.”

  I tuck my arm in his, once more leaning my head agains
t his shoulder.

  “Did she really attack you?”

  Quiet wind rattles the leaves around us. “Yes.” I won’t lie to him. “To be fair, I was already deeply suspicious of her when I arrived. Remember, Mary and I had come to question her over the photographs we found in the Piper’s Manhattan flat. After I heard Victor, well, I must admit I was ready to fight my way upstairs to find you if need be. She told me later she feared I was affiliated with the man she knew as Gabe Koppenberg.”

  His soft breath of a laugh is more bittersweet than anything else. “She’s never been the best in a fight.”

  “She’s gotten better.”

  His head tilts toward me. “Are you saying she was actually a match for you?”

  My own laugh is derisive. “Certainly not. But she was desperate—and I think we both know how desperation can allow a person to source strength they may not have known before.”

  “Were her eyes okay?”

  “Do you mean, were they black like yours were?”

  A moodiness settles over him when he nods.

  “Be assured they were green.”

  He leans his head about the tree, staring into the branches above us.

  “We’ll find him. It’s only a matter of when, not if.”

  “Todd was only a cog in this damn Piper’s wheel, wasn’t he?”

  “It appears so.” I wish there was something better to say, something more meaningful. Sweeney Todd—or at least, the man who was made to believe he was Sweeney Todd—destroyed so very many Timelines, including that of Finn’s mother. Todd is now dead, and yet, the threat to catalysts and Timelines remains.

  The family’s vengeance is not fulfilled. Neither is mine, yet. Although I have Finn back, I cannot risk anything further happening to him or anyone else. I will ensure the Piper is taken care of, and then I will exact justice from the Queen of Hearts for her treachery.

  “Did he . . .” His swallow is audible. “Did Todd touch you? When he captured you?”

  The memory of waking up in an unfamiliar room, in my chemise, with Todd’s hands running up and down my legs settles on this moment like a lead balloon. He had touched me, yes—but I was spared from true horror when he’d muttered something about, “I can see why he likes you.” The fiend then proceeded to pleasure himself next to me, and it was altogether one of the foulest, most frustrating moments of my entire existence.

  And here Finn is, inquiring about it. He sounds so . . . stricken, guilty, and furious all at once. As if it was his fault that Todd was a psychotic pervert.

  I tell him flatly, “Yes.”

  He covers his face with his hands for several seconds before pulling me into his arms. I tell him the rest, lest the no doubt lurid images in his mind go to places best not met. And still, it does little to abate his anger. How did he learn of it? Did Todd taunt him shortly before his death?

  “Finn. Love. I do not wish to dwell on what Todd did, not now. Not when there’s so much more to do.”

  He holds me tighter, and I welcome it.

  “You and I,” he whispers after many long seconds, “have had the worst courtship ever.”

  A tiny laugh escapes me. I suppose, when one really thinks about it, the beginnings of our relationship have not been idyllic. “I would not wish it away, though.”

  “Me either. I’m just saying—you deserve better than this.”

  I poke at his back. “As do you.”

  He kisses the side of my head. “I’m so glad to have you in my corner, Alice.”

  There isn’t any other place I would wish to be.

  Despite our lovemaking not too long ago, our mouths meet once more, and for long minutes, there they stay. Eventually, though, we know we must return to the others. They are still waiting outside the cottage, staring suspiciously at the greenish smoke that pours from the chimney.

  “Everything okay?” Victor asks. He appears cleaner, as if he found a bucket of water to help wash away the blood and dirt from his morning autopsy. Thankfully, the A.D. and Grymsdyke have also freshened up.

  “Yeah, sorry.” Finn rubs at his hair. “It’s just a lot to take in. Wendy, Sara . . . Mom.” He shakes his head. “I want that son of a bitch taken care of.”

  “There’s no need to apologize.” Victor leans forward and hugs his brother. “It’s a lot for all of us to take in. And you’re not alone in that wish. If we’re lucky, it’ll happen very soon.” His smile is bitter. “Apparently, I’ve inherited my bio-dad’s skills when it comes to removing body parts. The Piper’s head on a platter sounds just about right, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m glad one of us inherited such skills, because holy hell, hacking apart that giant was that disgusting.” The A.D. pretends to shiver.

  “Try crawling into its heart,” Grymsdyke offers sourly.

  This only has the A.D. shuddering more visibly.

  The green smoke from the chimney bursts into bright blue flames, only to quickly morph into a series of shimmering lights. The door opens unexpectedly, bringing with it the Wise Woman.

  “Your Majesty, Your Highness, a word, please.”

  “Your Highness!” Mary exclaims. “Whom is she talking about?”

  Neither Finn nor I say anything, nor do we question how the Wise Woman knew of such a thing. I simply take his hand. I allow Grymsdyke to explain to the others Finn’s new Wonderlandian title as we make our way into the house.

  The door shuts behind us, with nary a breeze to do the deed.

  “Whilst my enchantments will help protect all in your fellowship,” the Wise Woman says, “there are two additional gifts I must offer that are for you two, and you two alone.”

  My eyes move to the pile of hay closest to the fireplace. The goose no longer rests within. Finn must notice this absence as well, for his hand tightens around mine.

  “But first, I hope you will indulge me in a small tale.”

  “Of course,” I tell her.

  “Many, many years ago, I met a king and a queen who were desperate for a child, as many are. As payment, they offered me a very special goose they had, a golden goose. Feathers of pure gold, it was quite valuable and coveted throughout their land. Much trouble had been brought about by those who attempted to steal the bird, though, so it seemed to the king and queen that offering me such a prize would not only be good for me but would provide the goose, whom they were quite fond of, protection from the greed that plagued its safety. I accepted the payment and gave shelter to the fowl.

  “Years passed, and as you probably know, birds molt and this one was no different. As the goose aged, golden feathers became nothing more than plain ones. She was fiercely independent, though, and would often wander despite my warnings. I, too, became fond of the creature, and did not want to stymie its character. Wolves and foxes attacked the goose, but she was strong and clever. She was a survivor. She fought many a predator and won when other birds would have found themselves in bellies. She battled for her friends, and for innocent animals she did not know. All nearby cherished her valor. But years are not always so kind, and soon, after one too many skirmishes, even the goose realized that she was not strong enough to keep going as she once did.” Her smile is brittle. “Not even I can hold back death.”

  A pile of nearby feathers catches my eyes.

  “My friend asked for an ending of her choosing several times. She did not wish to die in an undignified manner. Affection always left me hesitating—and it was cruel and selfish of me, but there it is. Last night, she heard of the queen’s victory over the giant. Once or twice, it and the goose had battled, only to leave my friend with broken wings and legs. But when she heard you were able to best the giant . . . my goose knew her spirit could live on in the two of you if I would only finally acquiesce to her wishes. This morning, when you showed her much kindness, her mind was resolute.”

  She removes a small, bloodstained cloth from the table. There, gleaming in the sunlight from nearby windows, is a handful of small, golden feathers.

  �
��It’s not much. Any gold left was always hidden beneath the white. But my friend wished these for you, to help pay your way.”

  Finn and I both simply stare at the unbearably generous offering.

  “I received a gift myself. An egg, the only one my dear friend has ever laid. If I am lucky, I will soon have a new friend.” She glances away, but not before I notice the sheen present. “The goose also offered up its strength to aid you in the coming days.” Another cloth is removed, revealing a pair of cups filled with a glittering dark mixture. “It is, of course, up to you whether or not to accept such gifts from a benevolent, courageous soul.”

  Finn and I share a meaningful look before reaching, in union, for the cups.

  My love holds his out. “To the brave and generous.”

  I quietly offer the sweet goose a Wonderlandian song for safe passage to the journeylands before I clink my cup against Finn’s. Together, we drink the bitter contents.

  The Wise Woman pushes the feathers toward us. Finn slips them into his pocket as she heads to the door, calling the rest in. Once all are present, she situates us in a circle and hands Victor what appears to be a bottle of wine. “All must take three swallows. No more, no less.”

  “Even the spider?” the A.D. inquires.

  “Even he.”

  “As mentioned before, anything I do today cannot be erased by another of my kind. That said, if you are cursed, as was the prince with a sword of my sister’s, the intentions will be altered. Her intention was to change the prince from what he was to something else, something whose soul was dark and riddled with holes. The queen and I have now altered that so he is safe as long as her love remains true and breath enters her body. It will be similar for any of you—if my sister’s magic reaches out to you, it will not affect you as intended.”

  “But what will happen?” the A.D. asks quietly.

  Her eyes do not blink. “You will be given hope to overcome that which will change you. What you do with it will be up to you.”

  “And what of the Piper?” Mary asks. “Will we be protected from his music?”

 

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