The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 2

by Ken Brosky

  “I never told anybody!” Seth exclaimed. “I was locked in a dark room with a mannequin dressed like King Lear. I thought it would murder me! Then my stomach started to growl and I wondered if I could survive on grease paint until tryouts for the spring play rolled around! I still have nightmares about it!”

  We all laughed even harder.

  I could tell talking brought some relief. It even brought a little relief to me, too. I think I had enough going on to warrant some stress, and seeing the way Chase fit in with me and Seth just seemed, well, cool. Not “cool” like the popular kids at school who wasted their time partying all weekend, either. I mean “cool” in the old-fashioned way: good. Or, in the words of the ever-cool Clyde: radical.

  An hour passed. We ate more food and turned on one of the Lord of the Rings movies that my dad owned. I stuffed myself on broccoli and Chase and Seth snarfed down vanilla wafers. We engaged in an insane conversation.

  “OK, if you were in Middle-Earth, what kind of weapon would you use?” Chase asked.

  “Sword,” I answered.

  “Bow and arrow,” Seth said, almost at the same time.

  Chase blinked, obviously surprised at how quickly we answered.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  He shrugged, popping a wafer in his mouth and wiping his hands clean. “I’d pick the axe. Or, as the dwarves call it, the baruk.”

  Seth nodded approvingly. “Axes are tough to wield. You’d be better off picking something that works well on a horse.”

  Chase looked down at his wheelchair. “Oh, right. So what would you recommend?”

  “A jousting lance,” I offered. My eyes widened. “Or one of those crazy maces that hang from the chain! You could swing those pretty well.”

  “Let’s stick with the lance. But we’ll make it temporary. Once I can walk again, I want an axe.” Chase tossed his last wafer to Seth, then wheeled himself down the hall. He came back a moment later. “The bathroom says out of order.”

  “Out of order?” The explanation hit me and I snapped my fingers. “That’s right: my dad’s screwing around with the plumbing. Crap! The only bathroom is upstairs. I’m so sorry, Chase.”

  “That’s fine,” Chase said, wheeling himself to the base of the staircase. He locked the wheels. “Just help me off this thing.”

  Seth and I walked over, grabbing him under his arms. “What are we doing?” Seth asked. “I can’t carry you up there. I have sensitive muscles.”

  “Just set me on the bottom step,” Chase said. “That’s all I need.”

  We lifted him up, both of us groaning comically. As we set him on the step, he tugged at his jeans to straighten out his legs. They responded to his commands in a lazy, sluggish sort of way, as if they’d both fallen asleep. It seemed much more serious than he was letting on.

  “Watch,” Chase said. He pressed his hands on the next stair, then lifted himself up. He did it again. “See? All you need is good upper body strength. Which I have.”

  Seth asked the obvious (and embarrassing) question: “Do you … need help up there?”

  I felt my entire body cringe. Chase’s face hardened for a second, then he fought it away with a forced smile. “I can manage, thanks.”

  I watched him scoot up a few more stairs. Then, realizing I was probably making the whole situation even more uncomfortable then it needed to be, I turned around, grabbing Seth by the arm as I did so. “You’re bringing all the dishes into the kitchen,” I ordered.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because you ate the most ice cream.”

  “I got dumped!”

  “That’s no excuse for gluttony,” I said, sticking out my tongue. We took the dishes into the kitchen. Above us, the ceiling creaked. The telltale sign that someone was in the bathroom.

  “I bet it’s rough,” Seth said, rinsing off the spoons under hot water. “A drunk driver makes one stupid decision and now he can’t walk again. Ever. Like, I don’t even know what I’d do.”

  “He’ll walk again,” I said. “It’s just going to take time and effort. Like he said.”

  Seth grunted. I handed him the bowls one by one. He was staring intently at the water running from the faucet.

  “Hey,” I said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be OK. It just takes time.”

  “Right. I’ll just sit in my room till it happens, I guess.” He grabbed another bowl, then closed his eyes and groaned. “Oh man, lunch is going to be awful. I need to switch lunch periods so I’m not around her. They can do that, right? There’s gotta be some kind of ex-boyfriend clause in the Student Handbook, right?”

  “I have no idea.”

  His eyes examined me for a moment. “What’s up?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “Not much. Why?”

  “You look nice … more like the old Alice. Relaxed. You haven’t looked relaxed all summer. What’s going on?”

  Oh nothing. Just, you know, dressing up for a boy who’d never notice anyway and looking forward to sneaking down to the lake so I can steal a wish from a magic fish and finally end this whole hero business. “I’ll tell you later, OK?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Classic Goodenough, always with the teases. You should host a radio show. Your trademark line could be after the commercial break.”

  The ceiling creaked above us. We both looked up. “Do you think I should check on him?” I asked.

  “I wouldn’t.” He grabbed another bowl. “Probably embarrassing enough as it is. Doesn’t help that he was an athlete before the accident. Having a girl help him pull up his pants is probably the last thing in the world he wants.”

  “Yeah.” I felt an intense sorrow for Chase. And I felt a little guilty, too. I liked hanging out with him. We would never have hung out like this if the accident hadn’t happened. That was just the way it was at our school: the cliques stuck together. You had to have a really good reason for moving from clique to clique. You needed an even better reason to get into the “cool” clique.

  Like dating Edward, for instance. And now that that was over—thankfully!—I was outside of the cliques once again. In fact, I was willing to bet that I was dangerously close to “outcast” status at this point, especially after giving that annoying Ted guy the boot.

  “He’s a pretty funny dude,” Seth added, setting the last dish on the metal drying rack beside the sink. “Maybe he’ll actually talk to me in class sometime.”

  “Maybe. It seems like he could use some new friends.”

  “Hey guys,” Chase called from the living room. “Mind giving me a hand?”

  We went to the staircase, where Chase was sitting patiently on the bottom step. We lifted him by the armpits and set him back in the chair. He mumbled a thank-you, setting his backpack on his lap and following us into the living room.

  “My parents are on their way,” he said.

  “OK. Are you still going to give me more fencing tips?”

  Chase nodded. “Let’s plan on Sunday outside the library. Three o’clock.”

  “OK. Sorry we didn’t get more done for your paper.” I stomped my foot. “It just irks me. I know we could figure out a solution if we put our heads together. I mean, not literally, like putting our faces together. I mean our brains.”

  “What problem?” Seth asked.

  “Overfishing. Chase has to write a report on it.”

  Seth shrugged. “Just don’t fish so freaking much.”

  I looked a Chase. He seemed intent on quietly studying the space between his shoes. I turned back to Seth. “That’s a pretty simple answer.”

  “It’s a pretty simple solution,” Seth said. He rolled his eyes. “Seriously? Didn’t you guys fish as kids?”

  “Not as much as you,” I said. I turned back to Chase. “Seth’s dad used to own a fishing boat.”

  “Back when he wasn’t working weekends,” Seth explained. “Long story. Anywho, there were three lakes we fished at. Two of them had really strict rules on what size fish you could catch and how
many fish you could catch. And they had rangers patrolling, too. The third lake had looser restrictions. Now the third lake doesn’t have any fish and the other two lakes do. There’s your solution.”

  Chase took a breath, then nodded a half-interested nod. “Maybe. I guess. Seems like it would be tough to enforce.”

  Seth shook his head. “Dude, it’s really not. When it comes to solving the world’s problems, adults make everything waaaay more complicated than it needs to be.”

  Chase smiled, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his chair. “Sage words from a sage hobbit.”

  I studied him a moment, trying to figure out what was different about him. It was as if he was on edge now, or … embarrassed? Upset? Had it been because he’d had to climb up the stairs? I could only imagine how hard it was to make such a drastic change, but the last thing I wanted to do was drip empathy. Chase didn’t seem to want too much help. He was figuring this out on his own. Add on to that the fact that he’d been dumped by his girlfriend, and the last thing he needed was me prying.

  Boy was I wrong.

  And maybe if I’d asked, things might have turned out drastically different.

  Chapter 3

  Briar returned via the window at almost exactly nine o’clock. I’d been practicing what I would say to him for nearly an hour, but I still didn’t feel prepared. I felt I owed him an explanation. He was my friend, after all.

  “I found something,” he said, climbing through the window. “The Order of the Dragon. They certainly exist. In fact, I do believe I nearly found myself face to face with them some time ago … anyway, my research suggests that this order, whatever it is, has some connection to the Corrupted.”

  “I’m quitting.”

  His eyes widened. Both ears went straight up. “Pardon?”

  “I’m … quitting.” I started pacing the room. “Gaaaah! It wasn’t supposed to come out like that. Sorry!”

  Briar said nothing, watching me curiously as I returned to my bed.

  “OK. It’s like this: I found a way to get my old life back. I found a fish.”

  His whiskers twitched. “The golden fish … how?” He waved away with the question before I could answer. “It doesn’t matter. Alice, you must destroy it. You must!”

  I glanced at the bedroom door, then put a finger to his mouth. “Shhh. My parents, remember?”

  A whimper escaped his mouth. One ear flopped over. “Alice, please destroy it. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” I snapped. I immediately regretted being so harsh, but I suddenly had so much anger in me. All of the frustration and stress was bubbling to the surface. Chase and Seth got to vent this afternoon while they ate their ice cream. Me? I couldn’t, not without sounding totally crazy in front of Chase. And so now here it was. “I never asked for this, Briar.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “Yeah, well you’re not real. I am. Get it? I’m real, Briar. And I want to go back to my old life. I want to have pleasant dreams again. I don’t want to risk my life fighting creatures that shouldn’t exist in the first place.”

  “I’m real,” Briar said quietly. His other ear lowered. “I’m just as real as you. And so are the Corrupted …”

  I was losing my will. Get it together, I thought. Don’t back down now. Don’t re-think this. “Your job is to assist me, Briar. So now I’m giving you an order: don’t talk me out of this. Don’t get in my way.”

  He was silent a moment, his mouth quivering as if he was trying to get it open, trying to tell me something. Then he stood absolutely still, just staring me right in the eye with a mix of sadness and … something else. I know now it was terror. Finally, his paws grabbed the bottom of his vest, pulling it down where it had bunched up. “Very well. I must carry out my duty because I was written that way. But know this: I understand what you’re feeling, Alice.”

  And with that, he disappeared. The window opened, then closed. I walked over to it, looking outside and expecting to see a sad rabbit walking solemnly down the street, stopping under the streetlight and giving me one last look. Maybe we would both wave to each other. I wanted to wave to him. I wanted to still have him as a friend.

  But he was gone. A few dry brown leaves swirled on the sidewalk, maybe from Briar’s invisible feet or maybe from a gentle breeze. It didn’t matter. He was gone.

  I went to the closet, sighing. “Well, tonight’s the night,” I muttered. “The bus schedule runs until two in the morning, my parents are already zonked out, and I’ve got a date with destiny.”

  I pulled aside the blouses sitting in the pile on the floor, then gasped.

  The tureen’s lid sat on its side. The bowl was empty.

  That night, in my dream, I was on a boat. A ship. I could feel myself floating and cursed silently. Still the hero. Of course. The fish was gone. How had he escaped from my closet? He’d claimed he needed my help. He’d promised to make my wish come true.

  Now I was standing on a ship. An old ship with two tall wooden masts and massive white sails tied in place by thick cords of rope. The rope ran everywhere, like tightly spun strands of spider web. The sails caught the brine-tinged wind, bulging out like a pregnant woman’s belly, and above them the nearly full moon cast a dull blue glow over the old rotted floorboards of the deck. Men were moving from sail to sail, tying down the ropes. The men had a shadowy look to them, each one wearing black rubber pants with suspenders stretched over their broad shoulders. They all had stringy long hair, or longish hair, as if they’d been at sea for months.

  A wave splashed onto the wooden deck and as the ship lolled to one side, the water slipped off back into the dark sea. It spanned in every direction, no land anywhere to be seen.

  “Missy.”

  I turned and found myself face-to-face with a man with pale features and long, stringy hair. His skin looked old and dead, his long nose twitching as another wave hit the ship. I felt my legs wobble as the deck under my feet shifted. The man smiled. He was missing teeth and what few he had left were rotted. His entire face seemed cast in a shadow, as if someone was blocking out the moon’s soft glow.

  “You’re the greenhorn.”

  “What?” I asked. I couldn’t hear my voice. Was this a hero’s dream, or just a really bad nightmare? Now I wasn’t sure. No one other than the little boy named Alex had ever seen me before …

  Except the princess who loved music.

  Crap.

  “The greenhorn scrubs the deck and stays out of the way.” He grabbed my hand. I was surprised to see it—that meant this was just a nightmare. This guy wasn’t glowing, either. If anything, he was the opposite of glowing, as if the shadows stuck to him like dirt.

  This was a dream. I’d been thinking about that stupid fish right before I went to sleep and now I was dreaming about a boat.

  “What if I don’t?” I wanted to ask. But instead, I simply took the brush and kneeled on the deck, scrubbing away at the slowly rotting wooden boards. I looked up, watching the strange man cross the deck, stepping over a wide hatch. I knew enough about ships thanks to the annual Pirate Festival that came through town. The hatch led below deck. Behind me was the quarter deck, with a wooden door that no doubt led to the captain’s cabin. Above the quarter deck was the helm, basically a giant wooden steering wheel. It was manned by another shadowy figure, staring ahead with a dull, bored expression. Beyond the two main sails were three more triangular sails attached to the bow spirit, which was a long pointy spear-shaped thingy at the front of the ship.

  Another dark wave crashed into the ship, splashing across my face and soaking my socks. I reached out, grabbing the wooden railing to keep myself steady. Bulwark, that was what the railing was called. On the other end of the deck between the two masts were large metal winches and pulleys whose purpose I couldn’t fathom. There were nets, too, sitting in massive piles; a dozen crewmen stood over them, examining every inch with a careful eye.

  Another wave. I tried
to avoid the water as it splashed onto the deck, saving myself the squishy feeling that came from soaked socks.

  “Get these nets into the water, boys!” barked the sailor who’d confronted me. He walked along the deck with ease even as the ship swayed again and again, crashing against the waves. Above us, the sails flapped madly. “Blood and thunder! Split your lungs the moment you see that dreaded fish!”

  Fish. He couldn’t be talking about …

  No. That was impossible.

  I woke up to the sound of my alarm. I turned it off, my eyes automatically going to the floor under the window. I had to tell Briar. Something about all of this didn’t make any sense. They’d seen me. They’d seen me! And the strange sailor had mentioned a fish, too.

  But Briar was gone. I felt my heart skip a beat. Where was he? I was still the hero, right? The fish … where had he gone?

  I got out of bed, hurrying to the closet. I checked the bowl again, then checked the closet, picking up my dirty clothes and tossing them one-by-one in the hamper. But the fish was gone, just as he’d been last night when I frantically searched my room from top to bottom.

  I walked back toward my laptop, wondering if I could contact Briar through his ridiculous email address, then thought the better of it. Truth be told, I was a little nervous contacting him at all. I’d been so harsh last night. What if he didn’t want to help me anymore? But he had to. That was how he’d been written.

  But what if he didn’t want to be my friend at all?

  I walked back my closet and stopped, aware of the strange sloshing sound being made with each step.

  I looked down.

  My socks were soaking wet.

  Chapter 4

  The weirdness only got more intense once I got to school. One of the sophomores in homeroom swore that Chase was walking again.

  “That’s impossible,” said Amanda Winston, one of the popular juniors. “My dad works at the hospital that took care of him. He said Chase was messed up really bad. He can’t just walk all of a sudden.”