"You have a point," Andi conceded from her end of the pistol. "But here are a few other things to consider before making your decision. I’ve had a rough few days and am far less tolerant than when we first met. I am, as of right now, missing my first week of rehearsal because I am stuck here negotiating with half-wits like you. And so help me, if they’ve given away my part by the time I get home, I will come back to Elorium and hunt you down.”
Fredrick wondered if Paul understood half of what Andi was ranting about, or if he thought she’d gone crazy. Fredrick took one look at Andi’s wild appearance and decided it didn’t matter.
“While I might not have the guts to kill you, I don't think I'd lose any sleep tonight if a few of your toes were lost when this gun went off.” Andi's eyes hardened and she leaned in until her mouth was inches from his elongated ears. "And if that’s not enough to convince you, I will have no problem telling a certain miller's daughter what your real name is, Rumplestiltskin."
Fredrick could see the trepidation in the small man’s eyes and he almost felt sorry for him. Andi looked feral in her filthy finery, with her stormy eyes and a hand as steady as a rock when holding a gun.
"The steamboat will be the fastest way to get there. There aren't any roads in that part of the forest." He scowled, his eyes never leaving the end of Andi's gun. "About 40 miles upriver, you'll pass an old stone dock on the north side of the river. Her tower is on the other side, about a mile south."
"Where do we catch the steamboat?” Andi demanded.
"Across the tracks. Follow the dirt road straight to the river,” Paul sulked.
Andi backed slowly out of the tiny booth, the gun still trained on Rumplestiltskin. “We'll be borrowing your horse and cart. You can collect them later at the dock,” she said, snagging a sheet of paper off the wall out of Fredrick's line of sight. "And you might want to rethink your plan of contacting the prince,” she said, tapping the paper with the barrel of the gun. “I'd hate to have to contact the miller's daughter after all.” She lowered the gun and held her head high as she stepped out of the dusty booth into the sunlight. Stunned, Fredrick hurried after her.
"What..." Fredrick said.
"Later," she whispered, swinging up on the doubtful-looking wagon seat next to Fredrick. "Can you drive this thing?"
"I think so." He picked up the reins and the nag glanced over his shoulder at him. Fredrick gently flicked the reins over the horse’s back, and the animal faced forward again, swishing his tail at them.
Rumplestiltskin stuck his head out the door.
"I think you've got to do it harder than that," Andi offered.
Fredrick handed the reins over to Andi. "You give it a try then."
Grasping the worn leather, Andi whipped them through the air yelling, "Hiyah!" The horse lurched forward at a rambling trot up the dirt road. Fredrick glanced over at Andi, who was handling the cart like an expert.
"What?" she asked, an uneasy smile on her face.
“I'm just wondering where we're going to find you a holster and a ten gallon hat.”
"Was that an actual joke?"
"Where’d you get a gun?" Fredrick asked, finding himself using a tone he usually reserved when telling-off his brothers.
She didn't answer for a moment as she slowed the wagon and took it over the train tracks, jarring Fredrick so badly he clutched at the sides in fear of falling out.
"I lifted it off that guard the same time as the keys. I thought you saw me,” she told him.
"I was a little busy trying to get the door open,” Fredrick reminded her. “You pulled a gun on someone and threatened him."
"First of all, the gun isn't loaded, I took out the bullets,” she said, slightly wounded.
"I suppose if you're going to point a gun at someone that would be a smart move,” Fredrick said slowly.
"And second, he had no intentions of negotiating with you. He was going to turn us in." She handed him the sheet of paper she snatched from the wall without taking her eyes off the road.
The poster had a crude sketch of both Andi and him. A bounty was being offered for him and a reward for information leading to Andi's whereabouts.
"They're calling me a kidnapper, making it look like I took you against your will." Disgusted, Fredrick balled up the wanted poster and tossed it over his shoulder into the bed of the wagon.
"They're offering a hundred thousand Deutschmarks for you," Andi pointed out, sounding impressed.
"All of Elorium will be hunting for us.”
"I know." Andi steered around an enormous pothole. "I'll be okay in my cloak, but you'll be difficult to hide."
“I'm more worried about you.” Fredrick's voice was so low it was hard to hear over the thud of the horse’s hooves.
She didn’t meet his eyes. "You shouldn't be."
"Andi!" her name came out in a growl. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
"Fredrick!” she snapped back. “Look, I was just playing a part."
"Playing a part?" he asked doubtfully.
"Yeah. I did a summer with the Outlaw Trail theater." She gave him a tiny grin. "Lots of gun fights with blanks. The point is, I wouldn't have shot him, which would have been difficult without bullets, but I wasn't going to let him turn you in either. So I said and did what I had to in order for him to believe me. For me to have the upper hand."
"It wasn't all make-believe,” Fredrick said quietly.
"No,” Andi said, taking her eyes off the road and looking him straight in the eye for several heartbeats, “it wasn't.”
They stopped within sight of the first building they came to, ditching the horse and cart under the trees by the side of the road. By the time Andi returned from her foray into the small port town, the smells drifting from the tavern Fredrick was hiding behind were torturing his stomach. The slight crunch of her footfalls gave her away a full minute before she pulled off her hood.
She’d changed into jeans, a t-shirt, and some boots. Her jewels were off and her hair was in a practical braid down her back. A new bag dangled over one shoulder and two cloth bundles tied up at the corners swung from each hand.
"You’re going to love me," she said by way of greeting. "Food first."
She tossed him the smaller bundle. Fredrick's stomach gurgled audibly as he untied the corners and the aroma of the warm food hit him. Six warm, glossy brown buns the size of both of his fists sat in his lap. Andi settled next to Fredrick as he picked up a bun and took a tentative bite, steam curling from the hole he made.
"Good huh?" Andi said.
Gravy dripped all over Fredrick's hand and he could taste the meat and potatoes stuffed inside along with the soft, fragrant bun.
"How’d you get all this without being seen?" he asked, wiping his hands on the grass.
She gave him a look, as if to ask if he was serious. “I can turn invisible… My cloak, remember?”
“But still—”
Andi lifted a shoulder and picked at the knot in the second bundle. “I slid stuff under the cloak when no one was looking and dropped a few bills on the floor on my way out. It’s not rocket science.”
Fredrick took in her nonchalant attitude and considered the possibility this wasn’t Andi’s first time lifting something from a store. He decided to keep his mouth shut.
“What am I eating?” he asked instead.
"No clue. I wasn't sure what the food situation would be on the steamboat so I got plenty." Andi finished untying the bundle with a flourish. “And I also got these for you." She pulled out a pair of jeans, a dark blue hooded sweatshirt, and a pair of soft leather boots. A magazine spun out of the package and flopped face down in the dirt.
"Blue jeans!" Fredrick said, snatching them out of Andi's hands like they were going to vanish.
"I'll take that as a 'thank you.' I think it’s the happiest I've seen you,” Andi laughed.
"Thanks,” Fredrick said, a little sheepishly.
"This is a more practical place than Mr. Jackson live
s, I guess that equals more practical clothes.” Andi regarded her new footwear. “Everything but sneakers, apparently. Would it kill these people to invest in comfortable footwear? They have everything else from the last 200 years."
“What’s that?” Fredrick nodded at the magazine Andi retrieved from the dirt and was trying to slip back in the bundle.
“It’s nothing. Just something to read on the boat,” Andi said a little too quickly.
Fredrick nodded and snatched it from her hand so fast she didn’t even have time to protest.
He flipped it to the cover. “Enchantment?” A rare grin crossed his face. He turned it so she could see the front. “Nice picture.”
The glossy photograph plastered on the cover showed her and Prince Wilhelm dancing. Andi was graceful, her eyes shinning, the prince calm and pleasant with a slight leer on his face. The caption read, Prince Wilhelm’s newest mystery girl? Find out inside!
Andi tried to grab the magazine back, but Fredrick scooted out of her reach thumbed it open.
“‘Enchantment magazine was front and center at Habsburg Palace’s latest over-the-top revelry, the likes of which Elorium hasn’t seen in half a century,’” Fredrick read, not even bothering to try and keep a straight face. “‘There’s no doubt the talk of the evening was the mysterious girl who held the Prince’s attention hostage all evening.’”
Andi swiped at the magazine again, but Fredrick twisted, stretching to keep her at bay.
“‘This rare beauty was a complete unknown to Enchantment, but apparently not to the prince, who was overheard calling the bewitching young woman darling.” Fredrick drew out the last word with his southern drawl and raised an eyebrow at Andi.
She succeeded in wrestling the magazine from him and stuffing it angrily in her bag, her face blotchy. He chuckled quietly to himself, just like when he’d gotten the best of one of his little brothers.
“Just never been on the cover of a magazine before,” she mumbled into her bundle.
“But he’s such a creep,” Fredrick said, all laughter gone from his face.
“He is a creep. But I look good.” She gave him a half smile. "The boat leaves in an hour, which means we've gotta get moving. I found these plastered all over town." Andi waved another wanted poster under his nose. "So just walking on board is out of the question. I think it's going to be easiest to get you on before everyone else starts loading."
Fredrick nodded, thoughtful as Andi picked up his jeans and stuffed them back into the bundle.
"Why are you taking those back?"
"Well there's no point in changing now and then just getting them wet.” Tying the bundle back up, she gave him a slightly vengeful grin. “You can swim, right?"
Andi led him farther through the woods, skirting any developments along the river until they came to a deserted beach out of sight of the small town.
She flipped up her hood, disappearing again. Her voice came floating out of the air. "See you on the boat."
He waited a minute before stripping down, taking the time to fold each article of filthy, ratty clothing—his mother’s admonishments about neatness hard to shake, even now. He felt uncomfortable under the noonday sun in almost nothing and he shivered as he considered the wide, slow moving river in front of him. The water looked less than appealing, dirt brown and smelling of rotting seafood. He couldn’t help but think this plan was a bit vindictive on Andi’s part.
Up to his waist in the river, the cool water was a sharp contrast to the heat of the sun baking the back of his neck. Taking a breath, he plunged under.
He swam to the middle of the river and drifted with the current to where the steamboat was docked. Low in the water, he kept one eye on the dockworkers, but none seemed to have time to be gazing at the passing river as they moved freight into waiting boats. He floated around the bend in the river and caught sight of the steamboat pulled into shore.
It was easily the largest boat on the river, dwarfing the fishing vessels dominating the docks. Rising from the water like a white-tiered wedding cake, the smoke stacks crowned the top and the wheels extended like wings on either side. Fredrick was approaching it faster than he anticipated. The river picked up speed on this side of the bend, and he stroked furiously to angle himself to intercept the boat at the side facing away from the shore.
Focusing on trying to keep himself from smashing into the boat and being sucked into the stationary paddles, he nearly missed the rope ladder Andi had dangled over the side. Only a hasty second swipe with his other hand found him clutching to it like a lifeline while the river continued to drag the rest of his body downstream.
The ropes of the ladder pulled taut and, even as tired as he was, Fredrick knew the longer he hung there, the more likely it was someone would spot him. Finding the bottom rung with his bare foot, he climbed. The bottom most deck was only about 20 feet above the water, but his broken ribs protested at the pulling motion of his arms, making his progress slow.
Two feet from the top, invisible hands grabbed his arms and towed him headfirst over the railing where he collapsed on the warm, wooden deck. Fredrick’s body shook from the cold water, and his chest felt like lightening bolts were shooting through it.
Without a word, Andi leveraged him from the floor and hustled him to the bow of the boat. He left a trail of water as she ran him through a lounge area past clusters of tables and chairs, and then into a hallway.
The numbered doors crowded together were probably cabins. Halfway down, a door flung open—seemingly on its own accord—and an invisible hand shoved him inside. Andi bolted the door behind them. There were bunk beds, a bolted down table, and little else in the cabin. Andi pushed him again, this time into a tiny bathroom. She turned on the shower to its hottest setting in an attempt to stop Fredrick’s shivering.
"In, before you freeze," Andi said. "And you look like you could use a few of these." She handed him his pain pills before sweeping out and shutting the door behind her.
By the time Fredrick thawed himself out, dried, and dressed, the knives in his chest had dulled to a throb. Andi was curled in the bottom bunk making tiny wuffing noises in her sleep. The previous night with no sleep made Fredrick’s eyelids drag. He patted his pocket to make sure he still had the ring before clambering up on the top bunk and joining Andi in dreamland.
Part V
The Fisherman and his Wife
“But the fish said, ‘Pray let me live! I am not a real fish; I am an enchanted prince: put me in the water again and let me go!’”
Chapter 31
“You know how nuts that sounds, right?"
Dylan was home. The soft plink of water against wood, the steady rocking motion, and the briny smell of the sea sifted into his consciousness. He must have fallen asleep on Whirlwind.
He struggled to wake. A horrible headache drummed against his temples and a sick taste in his mouth made him want to hurl. Trying to sit up, he found himself soaking wet and bound by a pair of strange handcuffs.
He hadn’t fallen asleep.
With a rush, he flashed back to the deserted wing of the castle, Molly, and the guards.
Picking up his head, he found himself in a boat… but not his boat. He lay in the bottom of a tiny fishing vessel, sloshing around in water. An outboard motor sat mounted above his head, but it was off. Twisting a little to the right, he could see the back of one of his attackers pulling a double set of oars, propelling them through the water.
"You sure it’s been a half hour?" The reedy voice did not match the muscular man straining against the oars.
Another unknown voice drifted from the front of the boat and Dylan lay back down, trying to look unconscious. "You've got a few minutes yet, keep pulling."
"Why are we taking this one to Dame Ilsabill, anyway?” the first man complained. A dull thud was followed by and an indignant, “Hey! What was that for?”
“Mind your own business,” the second guard sneered. There was a pause, but then the pleasure of gossip got the be
tter of him. “They say the dame is unhappy with her lot.”
The guard rowing snorted. “I should be so unlucky to live in a fine castle with lots of servants.”
“They say the boy is her key to power,” the sneering guard said, lowering his voice.
That was news to Dylan.
The boat bumped gently against something and a deep male voice greeted them from above. "Took you long enough. Don't just sit there, get him up."
Dylan cracked open an eye to find a beard glaring down at him. On further inspection, there was a man hiding under the beard somewhere.
"Time to get up now, boy. Don't make us carry your carcass all the way down the docks,” the second guard said, poking him in the ribs.
Two sets of hands grabbed his bound writs and hauled. It was either stand and move or be dragged out of the boat face first. Dylan stumbled onto the dock of a small stone castle. Green hills rolled down from the gates creating a beautiful little park dotted through with fenced pastures of sheep and cows.
One of the guards prodded him. "Stop gawking. Let’s go, then."
Plodding up the dock to the time of the pounding in his head, Dylan tried to clear the cobwebs so he could figure out where he was. There were no other boats or ships in sight, but stretching along the shore were enormous floating boathouses, and he could imagine the collection of yachts each held. The sky overhead was a flat, steel gray reflecting the calm sea. The sight gave him a pang of homesickness. The clouds pressed down like a heavy hand, making the sky short and ominous. The air felt damp with moisture.
At the gate of the castle a young man waited. A guard shoved Dylan forward and slapped a key in the man's hands. "Take care not to lose this one, or Herrchen will make his displeasure known. Personally."
They headed back down the dock, their voices fading as they continued to argue about whose turn it was to row. Dylan took in the young man who appraised him shrewdly. He was well built and held himself tall and aloof, but he was dressed in soiled, stained clothes like a gardener, with a cap pulled low on his head.
A Grimm Legacy Page 19