A Grimm Legacy

by Janna Jennings

  "Like you minded." Fredrick pointed out. "You said, and I quote, ‘Gretel thinks I hung the moon.’"

  Dylan brushed imaginary lint off his coat, trying to look serious. "I do have a way with the ladies."

  "Now what?" Andi asked. "Is this where my fairy godmother appears? Should I be looking for a pumpkin to turn into a coach?"

  "Sort of. Come see what we found first,” Quinn said.

  She circled the wide trunk of the tree, leading Andi to the far side on a patch of clear earth and a square stone the size of a large, open book. Andi knelt down and traced her fingers over the weatherworn letters, illegible in places now.

  "Lillian Cynthia Wellington." Andi placed a palm on the grave marker. “My grandmother was named after her."

  "The story says after your great-grandmother died, Cynthia watered a hazel branch with her tears, and this grew," Quinn said. "This is where she got her clothes to go to the feasts, and if we’re making assumptions based on a book of fairy tales, this is your best bet."

  “My best bet, huh?” Andi said squinting up at the tree.

  “The back up plan is a dress I picked up for you in town,” Quinn explained.

  "What do I do?”

  "In the story, she said: shake, shake hazel-tree, gold and silver over me,” Quinn told her.

  Andi raised a single eyebrow in opinion of the line.

  Quinn raised her hands defensively. “I didn’t make it up.”

  Dylan let out a single snort of laughter before Andi’s glare silenced him. Reluctantly, Andi repeated, "Shake, shake hazel-tree, gold and silver over me,” and stared up at the leaves.

  Quinn searched the branches with her, and she felt rather than saw the wakefulness of the tree quicken. "Listen.”

  The sounds started with a brief rustle of wings, the whisper of a bending branch; then, the birds sang. Single chirps scattered throughout the branches and grew until a full chorus swelled and rolled in complicated harmonies.

  “What are they saying?” Quinn asked, raising her voice to be heard over the cacophony.

  “They’re repeating my words back to me,” Andi said.

  The birds appeared in droves, flying from the dark shadows of the tree. Willow-wrens, blackbirds, thrush, turtledoves, linnets, finches, oriels, and birds Quinn had never seen before. They fluttered down by the hundreds, drifting toward Andi. Quinn backed away, awed, completely loosing Andi amid the birds.

  "Every bird under heaven," Quinn whispered to herself, remembering the fairy tale she’d read earlier.

  The beating of the birds’ wings increased, flying in patterns like swarming insects. A whirlwind of feathers spiraled faster and faster until they were a solid blur and it was impossible to tell where one bird ended and the other began. The tornado of birds funneled up, back into the tree, and Andi emerged from behind the wall of feathers, starting with her toes, inch by inch. Quinn gasped quietly. Dylan and Fredrick grew very still as the last bird disappeared and Andi stood before them.

  The birds transformed the tired, grubby Andi into a radiant creature. They clothed her in a dress that moved like liquid silver, short in the front with a full, gathered train in the back. She wore embroidered lace stockings that matched the intricate embroidery fingering along the bodice of the dress. Short, gold gloves left her creamy arms mostly exposed and her curls—appearing freshly washed and arranged in ringlets—brushed her shoulders while gold beads twisted the rest up in a pile on her head. Her jewelry was a small ransom in gold and silver, but the real change, the most noticeable, was the Andi underneath all the new finery.

  Her face was strong, confident, effulgent. She looked like the embodiment of assuredness.

  "I feel..." Andi shook her head with a smile, unable to come up with the right words.

  "You look it," Dylan said, uncharacteristically serious. "You don't have any shoes.” He held out the ones still hooked on his fingers in a slight daze. "She must have meant for you to wear these."

  Andi slipped into the shoes and shrugged on the cloak. Beaming, she faced them. "Well?"

  The sound of a whipping wind traveled like a strike of lightening down the trunk of the hazel-tree. The ground under Quinn’s feet shook and she swayed as it trembled. Over as soon as it began, a crack like the report of a gun sounded through the courtyard.

  In a squeal of protesting wood, the trunk of the tree split and slivers of bark rained down. Light poured through the opening, so bright Quinn was briefly blinded to what was on the other side.

  The gap widened, shoving dirt and grass to the side as the tree continued to gape open. The opening slowed and stopped. Gapping several feet wide, the tree had a shaft of light spilling out from the roots until it disappeared like a beacon in the black sky.

  "Where does it lead?" Fredrick asked.

  "Think it's the way home?" Quinn wondered aloud.

  "Only one way to find out." Andi reached out a hand until it disappeared in to the light of the doorway. She smiled encouragingly back at the others as she stepped forward and let the light enfold her.

  They waited a moment, then two. The tree continued to shine like a beacon, but Andi didn't return.

  "Kind of nervy now, isn't she?” Dylan asked. “I wonder what those birds did to her?"

  "Wherever she is, she can’t be left alone." Without hesitating, Fredrick strode straight into the tree, not sparing a backward glance.

  "Of course he'd go next. Shall we?" Dylan said, winking at Quinn and giving her a small prod in the small of her back. Quinn stumbled into the light, Dylan close behind her. The tree creaked and groaned, sliding closed behind them.

  Chapter 24

  "The best part is, she waved us merrily off on our way to marry her prince."

  Coriander tried to glance over her mother's shoulder at the invitation that arrived that morning.

  "Did it say why they’re holding the feast here this year?"

  The oil lamps on the corners of the carriage provided a warm glow to the pearly light of the gibbous moon as they glided over the paved roads.

  Lady Wellington sighed and snapped the invitation closed before Coriander could get a look. "Don't be tacky. Of course they didn't say, but it wasn't hard to figure out. You just have to think like royalty does."

  "So, what were they thinking when they sent us to this Glass Palace?" Portia tugged at the waist of her dress, making a face.

  "They haven't held a feast in fifty years and have obviously made new allies in that time. They want everyone to know their influence has widened in Elorium." Lady Wellington tapped the closed invitation sharply on Portia's head. "Holding their feast at a foreign castle is the ultimate show of power."

  Coriander glared at her mother. Wait until she married a prince. Then her mother would find out how dispensable she was to her.

  The carriage turned off the paved road and bumped along a dirt lane with tall pines crowding in on both sides.

  "This proves that anything is possible, and you two better put your best foot forward," Lady Wellington said.

  Coriander gave a deep chuckle. "She didn't have a clue where we were going, that daft blonde."

  "The best part is, she waved us merrily off on our way to marry her prince." Portia grinned widely.

  The road became gloomier as the moonlight struggled to push past the thick branches. Splashing through a trickle of a stream, the carriage lanterns illuminated the occasional pair of glowing eyes watching silently from the wood. Lady Wellington frowned and demanded of the driver, "Are you sure this is the way?"

  "There it is!" Portia hung out the opposite side of the carriage and pointed ahead. Coriander took in the drawbridge, turrets, and towers of the castle buried in these dark woods. It was illuminated from within, the brilliant light pouring through the panes of glass, turning the entire structure into a glowing ember. Coriander had eyes only for the castle in front of them.

  "It looks go grand," she said, leaning at an alarming angle out of the carriage.

  "What if this fam
ily has a prince as well?" Portia asked.

  What if indeed? Visions of jeweled crowns and endless banquets distracted Coriander, so it wasn’t until the carriage clattered over the drawbridge and halted in the courtyard that she noticed anything amiss.

  "Where is everyone?" Lady Wellington asked, tapping a finger on her chin.

  "I told you we were going to be late," Coriander accused her.

  "I thought we wanted to be fashionably late," Portia said, craning her neck to peer around the courtyard. “There’s somebody.”

  Coriander caught a movement from one of the dark recesses the bright lights of the castle created. A short, hooded figure made its way to the carriage. She watched the person silently, confused. It didn’t look like a footman.

  Lady Wellington sighed as the person hobbled to them. "Such sloppiness. I shall be sure to complain to head of the house. Really, they shouldn't keep such riffraff on staff here."

  At the edge of the carriage, the figure threw back its hood and greeted them with a grating cackle. “It’s not often new pretties come knocking on Eulie’s front door.”

  Portia let out a small shriek at the hag’s long nose, grotesque lips, and wild hair.

  “Driver! Leave at once!” Lady Wellington screeched, smacking the man on the shoulder. When he didn’t respond, she grabbed his arm and tried to turn him bodily. “I said—” she gasped.

  His body was motionless, a petrified expression etched on to his face. Coriander watched the old woman advance, holding out her hand. Portia shrank from her, trying to fit her bulk into the corner of the carriage.

  Coriander blinked. Her sister was gone.

  In the old woman’s hand sat a fat quail, its comma-shaped plume quivering with fright.

  Eulie swung her gaze to Coriander, who cowered at the pupils bright as coals, burning in the crone’s face. Feeling as frozen as their carriage driver, those flaming eyes were the last thing she saw as her mother screamed, and her vision distorted.

  Chapter 25

  “I may have a future as a forger.”

  Andi stepped out of another hazel-tree with an identical spilt down the trunk into a small, unfamiliar garden. Her heart caught in her throat. Could they have come home?

  A few hesitant steps revealed a majestic building towering in a glow of golden light against the black sky. So not home, though they must have arrived at the feast.

  "Now that’s a castle.”

  Andi whirled around at the sound of Fredrick’s voice. "Where are the others?" she asked.

  "Right behind me," he said with a glance backward. He turned back to her. "Thanks."

  "For what?" Andi asked.

  "Putting up with those, those—" Fredrick’s jaw worked up and down, like he couldn’t quite get the words out.

  "Sadistic psychopaths?" Andi supplied.

  "Sure, we'll go with that,” Fredrick said. “Quinn and Dylan wouldn't let me out of their sight. We could hear them screaming at you from out in the barn and I just wanted to—"

  "Rearrange their ugly faces? That makes two of us." Andi turned to face him, her hands on her hips. "I didn't think you could stand being around me."

  Fredrick looked genuinely bewildered. "Why’d you think that?"

  "Because this is our longest conversation since you came crashing out of that tree.”

  "This is my longest conversation with a girl.”

  "Oh." That wasn’t the response Andi was expecting. "I'm just a talker, you know? And I don't really understand people who aren't."

  "I'll tell you a secret about quiet people. We like being around talkers." Fredrick smiled at her. The boy actually has dimples. “Not so much silence to fill.”

  The boy actually has dimples.

  "You've been amazing," Fredrick said.

  "Not Quinn amazing,” Andi said, strangely a little shy around such a sincere compliment.

  "No, but Andi amazing,” he told her.

  Andi grinned back at Fredrick just as Quinn exited the tree. Her eyes darted between the two of them and she frowned slightly.

  Dylan strolled up behind her, hands thrust in his pockets, the tree closing behind him.

  "What’s the joke?” Dylan asked, as Andi realized she and Fredrick both had lingering grins on their faces.

  Quinn stalked away from them, her feather quivering with annoyance.

  "Knew you’d be the last one through,” Fredrick said to Dylan.

  Andi watched Quinn distance herself several paces from the, her back to the group. How could Fredrick be so oblivious to Quinn's mood?

  "Let's get you to the party," Fredrick said, holding out his arm.

  Andi slipped her hand onto his offered arm. Dylan obstinately stuck his hands in his pockets, passing by Quinn and giving her a languid grin as she fell into step with him. Andi had a good idea what was bothering her, and the way they were paired off wasn’t helping Quinn’s resentment toward her. They wound their way in silence through the small garden, the castle growing as the distance closed between them.

  "Do we have a plan?" Dylan asked in front of them.

  "We're going to have to ask around. I'd concentrate on the servants. Cynthia seemed to be closest to them. See if they were at the last feast and if they remember Cynthia, anyone she talked to, or places she went,” Andi said.

  "Sounds good. We should divide up the guests. I'll take all the attractive females, twenty and under. Fredrick, you can take all the other ones,” Dylan said.

  Andi's laugh drifted over them and she saw Quinn roll her eyes at Dylan, finally smiling a little.

  They broke free of the faint shadows of the moonlight and faced a castle fit for a fairy tale. Its turrets and battlements were lit up like a candle, light dripping down the wide sweeping staircase. Two footmen stood at intense attention like the Queen’s Guards at Buckingham Palace, not acknowledging anyone in any way.

  "Now what?" Andi asked.

  "Now, you take this,” Quinn said, a hint of frostiness in her voice as she handed over the intercepted invitation. “And away you go.”

  “What about you three?” Andi asked.

  Quinn fanned out identical invitations and waved them at the boys. “I really should stop complaining about my daadi. I may have a future as a forger.”

  “I’m sure she’d be so proud,” Dylan said wryly.

  "Do I have to go in alone?" Andi’s squeaked.

  "I think you'll draw more attention that way," Quinn said. "Don't worry, we'll be right behind you."

  Andi puffed out her cheeks and exhaled her breath in a rush. She’d never been one to run from a fight. Squaring her shoulders, she marched to the stairs as though advancing toward an enemy.

  Hiding her nervousness, Andi handed her invitation to the guard blocking the staircase. He didn’t even glance at it, but gave an elegant bow and waved her on.

  Andi concentrated on balancing in her grandmother's shoes as she ascended the stairs, taking in the gold and flowers that dripped from every surface of the room. Tumbling head over heels would be a spectacular entrance, and one she hoped to avoid.

  Rows of arches ran the perimeter of the space, and through the openings she glimpsed more rooms and crowds of people extending on and on. The centerpiece of the tableau was the orchestra, set high on a stage where big band music wafted down to her. She crested the last step and found herself in a massive ballroom bubbling with music and color. Couples flitted and shimmied, dancing to the frantic rhythm.

  The band stuttered to a ragged halt as the musicians caught sight of her. Couples followed their gaze in the sudden silence, all turning to stare at Andi.

  Chapter 26

  "I see, not as impudent as you put on."

  Andi’s tongue stuck to the roof of her dry mouth, and her new found poise and courage completely evaporated. She straightened to her full height, nodding and smiling as she went, not really sure where she was headed.

  She was saved from having no destination as a young man entered from an adjacent room. He quickened hi
s steps and Andi paused in her trek across the room, waiting for him.

  This had to be the prince, dressed impeccably in a tux with a sash of royal purple across his chest and a mother of pearl handled revolver strapped low across his hips.

  He was several years older, with broad shoulders and legs so long Andi only came up to his chest. Without a doubt, he the most handsome young man Andi had ever seen. His tousled black hair brushed over his serious dark eyes which lit up as he approached her. Andi felt her heart give a little stutter and her palms grow sweaty. Without breaking out of his headlong rush, he grabbed Andi around the waist, lifting her in the air and spinning her around in a heady rush.

  Andi gasped. Seeing him beaming at her, she felt her heart continue its gallop. She grinned back at him, laughing when he finally set her down. The room still spun and she clutched at his arms to keep from staggering. He gripped her waist even tighter.

  The prince snapped his fingers in the direction of the band, and without taking his eyes from hers, unclasped her cloak and tossed it to a waiting servant. He pulled her close and waltzed her around the room to the time of the music.

  “Cynthia…" He was so close to her, his breath tickled her neck and made her shiver. “Where have you been?"

  Andi assumed the prince would know she wasn't Cynthia. Everyone was surprised she looked so much like her grandmother, but they knew she wasn't. Even the Wellingtons—who tried so hard to pretend she was Cindy—knew.

  Andi returned his intense gaze, searching for a sign of recognition, but saw only blind adoration in his eyes.

  "I needed to get away awhile," she said, trying to be as vague as possible.

  "I know how overwhelming that crazy family of yours is. You were gone for so long, I didn’t know what to think." The prince wrapped one of her stray curls around his finger. "I missed you."

  Andi was having a hard time concentrating. Her eyes slid from his and she caught a glimpse of Quinn's vivid dress waltzing the opposite direction with an unknown man. Looking over Prince Wilhelm's shoulder as she twirled by, she also spotted Dylan slouched against the wall with his hands deep in his pockets. He seemed to be trying to give her his usual lazy grin, but it had an unfamiliar edge to it that was decidedly unfriendly. Fredrick paced on Quinn’s side of the room.