Grimm said, “Aye. When you signed the blood treaty, do you remember the clause that said it couldn’t be broken without all of your consent?”
The three princesses nodded.
Grimm said, “Yes, well I added the most miniscule fine print to the treaty that should any of you turn on one another, or fall prey to a curse, your story nemeses would act as talismans. They are bound to each of you, but they need magic to find you. That’s why it’s taken so long. There is no magic in this land, so I had to get a bit—shall we say—creative.”
Bella was arguing with Punzie on the road. Punzie tried to kick her and Bella grabbed her foot. They both tumbled to the dirt.
Aura said, “What do you mean, creative?”
“I mean I wrote. Short stories, mostly. Hoping that my words would find you or at the very least, that they would bring me visions of your whereabouts.”
Cindy said, “So you did all of this?”
Grimm cringed. “Heavens no! I could never create such a garish place.” He looked at the silver car as if it were an alien from another planet. “No, I wrote happy tales of the five of you living prosperously.”
Aura said, “Well, I hate to break it to you, Grimm, but this isn’t exactly Paradise on a platter.”
Grimm sighed. “Alas readers don’t enjoy stories without conflict, and without readers, the written word has no meaning. No life force. The words weren’t finding you, so I had to make them darker.”
“So you wrote me as a car thief?” Aura asked.
Grimm snorted. “Of course not! Never even seen vehicles such as they own in this land.” He looked across the canyon, down to the town below where the lights were popping on one by one. Rock music drifted up to the peak. Far off, a car horn blared. “Such a noisy, place too.”
Grimm brought his focus back to the ladies. “I wrote tales of sinister witches and smelly trolls. I had no idea you had all succumbed to this.” He swept his hand across the canyon and below. “There is something though,” he added.
“What is it?” Snow asked.
“I was given orders. Orders to change the endings of your biographies.” He explained how he was to insert the word in before ever after.
Snow said, “Orders from whom?”
“I don’t know. It was a royal order, written on a palace scroll and sealed with a royal seal. At first I thought the five of you had wanted the change. I thought perhaps after the kingdoms united, after the wars, you may have wanted a fresh start by changing the name of the land.”
Snow asked, “Who signed the order?”
Grimm gave Snow a stoic look. “You did, your Majesty.”
Cindy and Aura snapped their heads to Snow.
“No, that’s not true. Someone falsified my signature.” Snow looked at her blood-oath sisters. “I swear it on my heart.”
Grimm bowed his head. “I realize that now. Especially after all that’s happened in Enchantment.”
“What’s happened, Grimm? What has become of our kingdom?”
Grimm looked up and said, “First, I need all of you. There’s not much time left, and I fear I may be pulled back soon. I have only so much magic to keep me anchored to this land.” Grimm shifted his gaze to the one princess who had yet to recover her memory.
Bella was dragging Punzie up the road by her braid. Punzie protested the entire way, kicking, screaming, and swearing. At one point, she bit Bella, who cried out in pain and bitch-slapped Punzie.
Aura asked, “What is Punzie’s talisman if not the tower?”
“If she had read the note I tried to slip her the first time she attacked me she would have known.” Grimm grimaced at the memory. “My neck still hurts. Of course I lied and gave the name Story to the police officer.” He looked from one of them to the other. “There’s no telling who is friend and who is foe.”
Bella had Punzie’s braid wrapped around her wrist in a tight grip as they joined the others.
“What did the note say, Grimm?” Bella asked, breathless, while Punzie tried to shake loose.
Punzie spat, “I’m calling Doc when we get back to the house. He’s going to throw all of you in the looney bin.”
Grimm rolled his eyes at Punzie, turned to Bella and said, “As I told your blood-oath sisters, I had to get creative. For example, I sent Aura the wheel via her fairy godmother.”
Fear shadowed Aura’s face for a moment and thunder rumbled in the sky.
Grimm looked at the clouds, concerned. “Don’t worry, your Majesty, it was the good one.”
Aura blew out a sigh of relief.
Punzie said, “Your majesty? Did I fall down a wormhole? Did I get into Cindy’s tequila or eat some magic mushrooms or something?”
“Grimm, the note,” said Snow.
“Right so. It read simply, ‘Kiss the Frog.’”
Twelve pairs of eyes fastened on Bob, who perked up and stood taller. He looked at Punzie with woeful admiration.
Punzie looked at Bob and said, “Now I know you’re all bonkers.”
Bob deflated.
Cindy said, “Damn it, Punzie just kiss the frog and this will all make sense.”
Punzie said, “You know, Cindy, I wish you could hear yourself sometimes. In what world does kissing a frog make sense?”
“In our world,” said Snow. “Kiss the frog.”
Punzie crossed her arms.
Aura said, “Come on Tassel Tosser. Kiss the frog.”
“You could do worse. And I’m pretty sure you have,” Bella said. “Kiss the damn frog.”
“No!” shouted Punzie.
Grimm, Snow, Aura, Bella, and Cindy all yelled, “Kiss the frog!”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, fine!”
Punzie bent down and kissed Bob on the tip of his bulbous nose.
In a haze of purple smoke, Bob puffed and jutted and grew to a height of six feet. His green skin faded to a fleshy tan, human looking arms grew from his torso, and his sinewy legs bulged into muscular limbs. The smoke thickened and for a moment he was gone and then, after the cloud cleared, prince Ashford appeared.
Punzie sucked in her breath, not taking her eyes off her love. She rushed forward to embrace her prince. “Ashford!” She cried.
Ashford caught her in his arms and kissed her. Then, like a whisper, he faded away.
Punzie spun around. “Where did he go?”
Grimm gave her a sad look. “I’m afraid I was only able to capture him for a moment, your Majesty. He has returned to Enchantment.”
Snow stepped forward and embraced Punzie. A single tear slid down her porcelain cheek and she asked Snow, “What’s happened to us?”
“That, my blood-sister, is what I intend to find out,” Snow said.
Snow turned to see Bella staring at where Ashford had stood only moments ago, a frown on her face.
“What is it, Bella?” she asked.
“I’m just wondering.” She cocked her head toward Grimm. “Is Beast…the dog, I mean…is that my Beast?”
“That enormous canine? No, no.” Grimm shook his head vehemently.
Bella sighed in relief. “Thank God. The things I’ve seen that dog do to himself...”
“There isn’t much time,” Grim said. “With the first drop of rain, I’ll be gone. So I want you to listen and listen good. There is talk of a curse. After you disappeared, the kingdom was left in chaos. No one has stepped in to lead, and Enchantment has fallen into a state of mayhem. Many have fled the kingdom entirely. I fear the curse was cast as a plot to take over the land.”
“Have you any idea who’s behind the curse?” Snow asked.
“Nay, but it must be someone of great power. I haven’t seen magic of this magnitude in Enchantment since before the treaty.”
Cindy said, “An evil queen?”
Aura said, “A witch?”
Grimm shook his head, “I truly don’t know, but whoever it is is strong. Stronger than you can imagine. And I suspect they may be stealing magic, as it’s difficult to come by these days.�
�
Snow considered Grimm’s words. “There’s a room in Granny’s house. Filled with clocks and watches and numbers. It reminds me of no story I have ever read.”
Grimm thought for a moment. “Nor I. It isn’t mine, and it isn’t my brother’s. But it may mean something else.”
“What?” Aura asked.
Grimm hesitated, but Bella tapped him on the shoulder. “Spill,” she said.
“It has been nearly a year since you and many others vanished from Enchantment.”
The women gasped and began firing off questions one by one.
The clouds rolled in faster now and thunder boomed directly over their heads.
Grimm looked up with worry. He stretched his arms out. “There’s no time for questions, nor have I answers, so gather round, princesses.”
The five women huddled around the scribe. “Each of you is like a daughter to me and each of you has seen her fair share of strife. As individual women, you are strong, fierce, and powerful. As a unit, you must also be loyal, honest, and brave. You’ve been all those things in the past and you can be again. You must trust each other, rely on each other. Always remember that together, you can accomplish anything. For it was the five of you who brought peace to Enchantment.”
They nodded.
“Now, go get your kingdom back.”
A drop of rain splattered on Grimm’s shoe.
And he was gone.
42
A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
The five princesses left the stolen vehicle at the top of the canyon and piled into Bella’s car. There were more pressing matters to attend to. Like where was Granny? Who was behind the curse? And who, in this land, was friend and who was foe?
Snow racked her brain to come up with a logical enemy. They all had villains, to be sure, but most of those axes had been ground out years ago.
The answers, she was certain, were back at Granny’s house.
Granny’s house. Funny how magic began to find Snow as soon as she stepped inside that place. Odd too, that none of the others felt it before she arrived. And that she was the first to recover her memory.
But, as Grimm said, she was the first princess.
Unless...was this all because of her? Was the curse somehow linked to Snow? Was it really a coup? Or did someone hate her so much that they would go to such extreme lengths to dispose of her? She could recall no enemy so grave, but if that was the case, then it was because of her that Enchantment and its people were left without their leaders.
The storm blew into town with them, the rain pelting the windshield like pebbles. Bella turned the wipers to high. She briefly explained that she had managed to get Tink into the school and that last she saw, the sprite was being hauled off to the detention quarters by an angry teacher.
Punzie sat next to Snow her braid curled around her waist. Every so often she asked a question and Snow and Aura tried to fill in the gaps of her awareness with what they knew—and what they didn’t. Every so often, she reached in her pocket as if Bob was still nestled there.
Bella said, “I want to examine those rooms, Snow. The minute we get back.”
Snow agreed. The ballroom, the room with the clocks, the locked room that not even Aura had a key to open. What did it contain?
They drove the rest of the way to the house in silence, with only the drum of rain accompanying their thoughts. They had a mission now—one that was even more daunting than the ogre problem they had faced all those years ago.
An entire year. They had been away from the kingdom, their people, for an entire year.
All that they had worked for, all that they had built, gone in a flash.
Her anger built as the car crested the hill to the darkened, dilapidated home. Oh yes, someone will pay for this.
The women got out of the car and entered the house.
There was no sign of Granny. No lights on, no smells of coffee or food, no footsteps, no piles of “treasures.” Just the eager panting of Beast, who greeted them excitedly.
Bella ushered the dog into the kitchen while Aura ran upstairs to collect the key ring she had copied from Granny’s master set. Punzie volunteered to get Granny’s inventory notebook, and Cindy ran to retrieve the notes Snow had taken on her exploration. They moved like a well-orchestrated symphony, each doing her part. Like the old days.
Snow wound her way around the house to the locked room. She turned the handle, knowing it wouldn’t open, but she had to try. She had to do something.
She heard Bella call to her. “Snow, come on. Show me that room you were telling Grimm about. He might not know the story, but I may.”
Snow ran back through the parlor and met up with Aura, Punzie, Cindy, and Bella.
“I’ve got the key here somewhere,” Aura said, shuffling through the huge ring.
Punzie flipped through the notebook, searching for a clue, as Aura slipped a key into the lock. The door creaked open, and Snow and Bella stepped inside the cramped space that held nothing but numbers and timepieces.
“I can’t make heads or tails of it,” Snow said.
Bella approached the lower shelf first. She tentatively touched each clock and watch that she could reach. She closed her eyes, concentrating.
Snow watched as Bella moved her hands along the next shelf and the next, picking up ticking timepieces one by one.
She stopped abruptly, examining an alarm clock with closer scrutiny. It was set to six o’clock. Bella picked it up, turned it over in her hands. Snow studied her and by the twitch of her cheek, knew there was an idea forming in Bella’s mind. She set it back down, then picked up another clock shaped like a cat. Its eyes bulged and its tail swayed. Snow thought it was the ugliest thing she had ever seen.
Bella took a step back, looking at the numbers on the walls. Some were multiplication problems that didn’t add up—4x5=12, 4x6=13. Some were random numbers—2, 5, 7. She inched forward again, picked up another clock in the shape of a white rabbit with pink eyes and a bell between its ears. She stepped back again. She touched a heart-shaped watch, then snapped her hand away as if she’d been burned.
Her face twisted with rage. She turned to look at the other princesses. “I can’t believe it.”
“What? What is it?” Snow asked.
“Do you know who’s behind this?” asked Aura.
Cindy said, “Is it my stepmother?”
Punzie was still flipping through the book. “There’s nothing in here. No names anyway.”
“Don’t any of you read?” Bella snapped.
Cindy looked at Punzie. “I like romance novels.”
Punzie shrugged. “Do bathroom walls count?”
“I’m a mystery fan,” said Snow.
“Me too,” said Aura. “Hey, have you read—”
“Shut up!” Bella ran a hand through her dark waves. “Look closer at the clocks. The heart, the cat, the white rabbit.” She stepped forward and pulled out a clock in the shape of a deck of cards. “Playing cards. Ring a bell?”
Snow looked at each item. The clocks ticked away and chimed, mocking the thoughts running through her head.
She gasped, met Bella’s stare. “No, it can’t be.”
“Oh but it is, my pale friend,” Bella said.
“Alice?” Snow looked at her compatriots.
“That bitch!” said Punzie. “After we granted her asylum from Wanderland?”
“But she’s only a kid,” said Cindy. “Barely twenty.”
Aura said, “A kid who once ruled her own kingdom, don’t forget.” Aura sighed, looked at the others. “So now what?”
Snow said, “Now we find a way home. And we start by breaking into that locked room. Maybe there’s a mirror in there. Maybe more than one.”
“Would a mirror be enough to make magic?” Cindy asked.
“Perhaps. With the apples,” Snow said, “Only one way to find out.”
Aura said, “I told you, Snow, that thing is a fortress. No one’s getting in there. There’s not a
key that works and nothing in my arsenal can penetrate that lock.”
Snow smiled. “Then we break it down.”
The rain poured down on her in buckets as Snow jogged out to the shed to retrieve the ax. She stepped over the bag of apples, around a lawn mower, a hedge trimmer, and seven shovels, but she couldn’t find the ax anywhere. She had just seen it when she grabbed the chainsaw to cut the tree down not more than a day ago. Where was it?
“You looking for this?”
Snow spun to face Hansel. He was sopping wet, muddy, and haggard. His tee shirt clung to him, his jeans were soaked through. He looked like something that had crawled out of a grave. The ax rested casually on his shoulder, and Snow was about to say yes, but something in his tone and his stance stopped her. A flash of lightning lit his features and revealed Tink’s black shadow hovering over him. Attached to him.
Snow backed up slowly. She felt behind her for one of the shovels. “Hansel, what are you doing?”
She found a handle, gripped it.
“The queen of hearts must have her parts,” Hansel said mechanically.
“Is that what Alice is calling herself these days?” Snow asked.
She tightened her grip on the shovel.
Hansel hefted the ax in his hand. “The queen of hearts must have her parts.”
He sprang on her then, so fast that she didn’t have time to bring the shovel around. Instead, she spun away from him and the ax bit into the shed wall. He pulled at it, grunting.
Snow grabbed the shovel and swung it at Hansel’s head. The blow connected, but it only dazed him. He yanked the ax out of the wall with a roar, pivoted, and crouched into a fighting stance.
Snow matched his movements. She planted her feet, ready for the next attack. “Hansel, do not do this. This isn’t you.”
Hansel let out a warrior cry and lunged at her. Snow fended off the ax with her shovel. The shock of the blow hurt her hands. The clang of metal crashing into metal echoed through the small shed, stinging her eardrums, overpowered only by the booming thunder.
If she could just hold on, just maneuver until her back was to the shed door, she could flee.
And then what?
Hansel said, robotically, “I must have your heart. It’s in the cards.” He swung the ax at her head, but she ducked under the blow.
1 The Bitches of Everafter Page 19