Garth sat up, feeling a glimmer of hope in that word: Angel.
She went on, “The Angel of Death, it comes to everyone. I had always thought the Angel came to collect souls, but it doesn’t. It comes to give them guidance.”
“But Francis, he doesn’t have one. The Angel didn’t visit!”
“True, but I heard the Angel’s counsel. It told the Prince what to do. The beginning of the journey is the same for all souls. It will probably be coming to the King soon.”
“He doesn’t deserve it! It can’t possibly come to wicked souls,” Garth interrupted.
“It does, it comes to everyone. The Angel is blindfolded, so as not to pass judgment on the good or the evil. There are others who decide that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There are tests a soul must take on its journey to Heaven. The tests determine whether the soul is worthy of passing on. If they don’t pass the tests they are claimed by the Underworld.”
“What if the soul doesn’t go on this journey? What if it refuses the tests?”
“That happens, especially if a soul knows it’s guilty of sin. It will stay and haunt the living to avoid the odyssey.”
“I’m sure that’s what the King will do.”
“So we must guarantee that the guilty are where they need to be, instead of staying here,” said the Queen with a confidence she hoped would creep its way into Garth. “We will use the Angel’s guidance.”
“Did it mention specifically how to seek vengeance?”
“No, but it told the Prince he must first find a witch. She gives the next set of directions. Surely, she’ll be able to help us. We’ll secure the King’s fate and help Francis. Maybe you, too.”
Garth had believed himself to be a Guardian for as long as his body was intact, but at that moment, for the first time, he saw a glimmer of possibility. He could have another chance at life. He could live and die like the rest of the world, like everyone he’d ever known and loved. It’d been countless years since he’d last seen them, his human family. Surely they were all long gone. Even so, he was comforted in knowing that their greatest adventures awaited them after death. Evie had always been such a fan of faerie stories. Her journey must have been just like one. How delighted she must have been when she died…
*
“You’re not going without me,” protested Helena. After collecting the pieces of Francis, they stopped by her fountain to say goodbye. Garth held their friend in a large burlap sack that she grasped with all her strength, trying to connect their earlier discussion about death with what was in front of her. It was her first experience with loss, not just of a friend, of anything. “I want to help. The two of you are the only friends I have and now he’s gone and you probably won’t return.”
She was right. Garth couldn’t come back. The palace was massacred and a manhunt would soon begin. Then again, the only people who knew the truth were dead and the other grotesques certainly weren’t going to go after them. He wondered what they’d do with their newfound freedom.
“Garth, it will be hard enough for the two of us. We’re limited to the night, so we must move swiftly. It’s not out of the ordinary to see statues in the city, but in the country, two stone ladies and a monster with a sack on his back will be a bit odd,” insisted the Queen.
Helena stepped off her fountain and confronted her. “I don’t know you, but I do know that you’re being very insensitive. Just because you were a decoration in the palace doesn’t make you royalty. I’m coming with you and if that means we’ll have to try a bit harder to stay hidden, so be it. I will not stay on this wretched fountain just to decay and think of the friends I once had.”
The Queen silently agreed to let her come.
The group darted through the town’s narrow streets toward the country. They needed to flee the capitol before sunrise, before rumors of stone monsters invading the palace emerged. They sought shelter from the daylight hours in a small grove of fruit trees outside the city walls. The whole kingdom would be in mourning, so they’d be safe from curious farmhands.
As the sun began to rise, they settled down to rest. Garth curled up, guarding his shattered friend. Helena laid her head on the lumpy bag. For the first time, she slept next to the man she loved, even though he was just a pile of rubble beneath her. The Queen settled slightly off to the side, granting them time with the bag and each other. Before the first rays of sunlight hit Garth’s face, he secretly turned his head to catch a glimpse of her. To his surprise, he caught her equally secret glance at him.
*
“I did not mean for this to happen,” Garth said to me. “This is all my fault.”
I couldn’t argue with him. He murdered a man in my apartment. He’d put me in a pretty tough situation.
But he’d also saved my life…again. I was a constant target for danger and I didn’t know why. Deep down I wanted to believe that the three attacks on my life were connected, but the more I thought about it, the more confused and afraid I became. Investigating that topic forced me to confront every choice I’d made and every person I’d met. Who could I have ticked off so greatly that they would send multiple assassins for my insignificant and harmless self? Someone big had a vendetta out for me, like a god or the President of the United States or a student loan corporation. How could I possibly battle against enemies like that?
“Garth, I’m just glad you were watching out for me.” I put my head on his shoulder and had the strangest feeling. Something deep down within me confirmed my fears. “Have you always known I was in danger?”
Garth had trouble searching for words, like he had suddenly reverted back to some European tongue. “I…it is not very clear…but I had a sense that I should…be more invested in you. More than just a friend whom I tell stories to.”
The tears stopped and I looked at him with a scrutiny only few have seen.
“I need to be Guardian to you for reasons other than those you originally asked me.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Why? Is it because of the blood?”
“What blood?”
I was about ready to walk in front of a bus. What blood? The most pressing issue of my entire life was completely unknown to him. Apparently he knew something more detrimental? Fantastic! “My blood is at your crime scenes, Garth. It’s pretty bad. The cops are going to think I’m the one smashing men into pudding and stuffing them in drainpipes. What exactly are you talking about?” I asked like I was speaking to a child.
“Yes, that is also…pretty bad. We need to get you some help.” He was in as much shock as I was. He grabbed my arm and started leading me back to the street.
“No,” I yelled. I tried to take his hand off me but it didn’t budge. “What are you keeping from me?”
“Something is…I think…I do not think that these attacks have been coincidences,” he confessed.
“That’s becoming obvious. Who is trying to kill me?”
“I do not know,” he roared. “I’ve been trying to find out.”
“Is that why you keep leaving town? You’re looking for a long lost crystal ball or psychic to tell you?
“No, actually I’ve been looking for a witch,” he snarled.
“Holy Hell, Garth! You can’t just spring this stuff on me!”
“I need to take you to Rita.”
My phone began to ring. It was Robbie. “Garth, wait!”
“She can help us, I promise.”
My phone made another sound. I had a text message. “I’m on a time constraint.”
He stopped pulling at me and turned around. “Yes, you are. If we do not do something, you are going to either be dead or in jail. Your date can wait.”
“I’m sorry I have to face real, living, breathing people in my life,” I spat out like dragon fire.
He pulled away. A rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue but he held back.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your—”
“Stop.” Hi
s hand came up, trembling. It touched my cheek. He brushed a stray curl from my face. “Those people cannot help you. Come with me.”
7. Stumped
“The Angel’s instructions weren’t terribly specific,” said the Queen as they rose from their first day outside city walls. “It told the Prince to go into the forest and seek out a Horse. It would lead him to the witch.”
“Do horses run wild? I’ve only seen them in town,” Helena asked.
“They’re rare,” answered Garth. “Mother used to make us carry oats in our pockets on long trips through the woods, just in case we came across one. They’re bad omens. She was very superstitious.” He smirked at the wacky memory, as if feeding a bad omen would somehow make it less bad.
Without any real directions, they were left to wander aimlessly through the woods and hope to encounter the Horse. They ventured to primeval places where the trees were ancient and the likelihood of crossing paths with the spirit world was great. Believed to be haunted, humans rarely ventured to that part of the forest, extinguishing the stone ones’ fears of being discovered. Helena was delighted by practically everything along the way and kept her companions busy with question after question after question.
But nights of meandering grew tiresome. Garth was especially weary as the bearer of Francis’ broken body. The physical heft of the bag and the emotional weight of Francis’ death brought up feelings he hadn’t known in years. On one particular evening, the load became too great. He stumbled upon an old tree stump, the perfect place to rest. He swung Francis from his shoulder, gently placed him on the ground, and took a seat on it. The rotting wood cracked beneath him.
“Excuse me!” screamed a voice.
“Pardon?” Garth said, startled by the unexpected sound.
“Stand up, you fool!” cried the voice again. Garth obliged and circled the area in search of the unfortunate creature he’d accidentally squashed.
“Garth, look!” cried Helena with a pointed finger towards the stump.
He turned around and saw a most unusual site: A bark-covered face, just as if someone had carved it into the side of that old tree. Through the wooden skin Garth could see that the face was young, around the age he’d been before being turned to stone.
“I’m sorry,” Garth said.
“No worry. You didn’t know.” The stump replied.
“Are you enchanted?” asked Helena. She was more thrilled than she’d been about the last ninety-nine things she’d passed along the way.
“No, are you?”
“Yes, in some way or another, all three of us are,” said Garth. “Are you a tree spirit then?”
“Not that either. This tree died many years before I moved in. That’s how I was able to inhabit it,” grumbled the stump. Helena’s head cocked to the side. “I’m a ghost. Died in battle many years ago. Joseph is my name.”
Garth assumed he’d died in the same Great War, but he decided not to probe. “Good to meet you, Joseph. My apologies for sitting on you.”
“Not a worry, not a worry. You shouldn’t feel a bit guilty for sitting on a stump. I’m just biding my time. Pay no mind to me,” Joseph said as he uncomfortably glanced from side to side.
The Queen nudged Garth as if to say, “Ask him.”
“Joseph, may I ask you a question?”
“Yes but do be quick about it. The lot of you are making my disguise rather obvious.”
“Are you haunting this tree?”
The look in his wooden eyes was etched with disdain. He nodded.
“Were you once looking for the Horse, Joseph?”
The stump filled with terror. “Please don’t speak too loudly. It’ll hear you! I should hope you aren’t in search of it, yourselves. No, no, no. Tell me, did you speak with that deceitful Angel?”
Helena and Garth looked at the Queen to do the explaining but she appeared as spooked as the dead tree before her. “Yes,” she finally replied. “I witnessed the Angel direct a soul on his journey. We are seeking out a witch. I understand the Horse is meant to bring us to her.”
Joseph laughed a malicious laugh. “The Angel didn’t tell you the Horse is a Judge, did he? You won’t be getting on its back to ride to her door, no. You see, not all souls go to the same place. The Horse, it begins choosing who’s worthy.”
The Queen fell to the ground, grabbed the old tree, and shook its thick lichen bark to the ground. “What do you mean, you old stump? Why would an Angel lead souls into a trap? That Horse could drag us straight to Hell!”
“Yes!” Joseph hissed. “How else would guilty souls be judged? Nobody would willingly face such a gamble. If all souls knew the trials were avoidable, this world would be brimming with spirits. All biding their time like I do.”
“How do you know this? Why haven’t you been judged?” asked Garth. He wasn’t sure if they should trust a cut of wood. Then again, a block of stone shouldn’t feel ill will for something equally inanimate. He felt silly for thinking anything at all.
“Because I refuse to be,” Joseph sang through a kind of grin that made Garth uneasy. “I died with many others. A whole generation of boys was lost. A whole generation of boys was on the same journey to the other side. If you could view with a soul’s eyes, you would have seen more ghosts than trees here. Every one of us searched for a steed and nearly every one succeeded. But not me. See, I saw what really happens. I thought war was a nightmare. But it was nothing compared to that animal. That Horse. I wouldn’t even call it a horse. It’s a monster, it is. As soon as it looks at you, it knows. It knows if you were doing untrue things when you died. If you weren’t, it offers you passage to the witch. If you were, it drags you down to the Underworld. I saw it happen.” The stump twitched, trying to shake the memory. “I didn’t give it a chance to judge me. I fled. Hide in dead things. Been doing it for years. The others gave up and said, ‘Horse! Come for me!’ Not me. Here I am.”
The storytelling caused sap-tears to pour from his bark. Garth felt pity for the stump. He wondered if they’d ever locked eyes on the battlefield.
“But why are you afraid?” asked Helena. “Did you die with a clear conscious?”
Joseph stopped his weeping and looked to her with despair. “That’s just it. I don’t know. I believed in what I fought for. But who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong in war? Every soldier thinks he’s doing the right thing. Now I doubt my actions. What if I was doing the devil’s work? I will not be punished for being led astray!”
The Queen stroked his rough cheek. “There are many, many horrible leaders. They mislead their people. Our King was an evil man. The wars he waged were in vain and he will pay in the end. The men he forced into battle will not face that fate.”
“But I saw,” interrupted Joseph. “My countrymen, many of them, dragged into fire. I heard their screams from below the earth!”
“Then they enjoyed the kill,” she asserted. “They bled other men to conquer. The clouds of influence are thick but not inescapable. If you died knowing what was right, then you are a safe man.” She pet his rough bark like it was hair on a child’s head.
The sap stopped running and the Queen lifted her hands. Joseph was gone.
“Did he go after the Horse?” asked Helena.
“I don’t think he ever will. He was confused when he was alive and is even more confused in death,” the Queen replied.
“If I were him, I’d do the same thing. Why would anyone want to leave this world?” Helena wondered.
The Queen shuttered. “Some people are done with this world. Let’s move on.” Her walls were always built high, but in the hours following their encounter with Joseph, they proved impermeable. She barely said a word after their encounter.
Helena made the first effort to lighten the mood. “Tell me about yourself,” she said, a little too cheerfully.
The Queen answered with a puzzled look.
“I mean, how did you come to be? Are you enchanted like me, cursed like Garth, or some kind of rogue spirit
like Joseph back there?”
“Do I look like a rogue?” asked the Queen, clearly not wanting any further discussion.
Garth answered for her. “She’s an enchantment.”
Helena’s eyes widened and a smile spread from ear to ear. “So am I! Do you remember yours?”
“No,” said the Queen. She looked at Helena who obviously wanted to divulge more information. “Do you remember yours?” she asked with little interest.
“I’m not completely certain but I do remember hearing stories around the fountain. Sometimes, late at night, lovers would wander into the square and sit by me. I was awake but I had to be very still so they wouldn’t notice. They’d admire me and talk about a sculptor who chiseled the image of his long-lost love into marble. It turned out so beautifully that it was put in the middle of the town. The constant reminder of her made him so distraught, he killed himself.”
“And that brought you to life?” asked the Queen, shocked that such an innocent thing like Helena could be the result of something so morbid.
“Yes! Have you heard this before?”
“That sounds like a story too tragic for lovers to tell at your fountain.”
“Oh, it is. It’s very tragic but also very beautiful. Life must end to create a new one. Like how grass dies and turns to dirt which grows a flower.” She proudly looked to Garth with a smile as big as the forest.
He congratulated her on her analogy with a nod.
“That’s…a very nice way of looking at things, Helena,” said the Queen.
Garth agreed, “And you are, in a way, keeping the memory of their love alive.”
“You’re right! Many, many people came to the fountain and told that story. I hope it’s remembered for years to come,” Helena said.
“Actually,” the Queen began, “I have heard of you. The Prince occasionally went to your fountain. He would throw devotions into its waters. To remember doomed love affairs, I suppose. He was very dramatic about love. I’m sure you’re deeply missed by the romantics.”
In Stone: A Grotesque Faerie Tale Page 12