Briar Blackwood's Grimmest of Fairytales (7 page)

She gaped at the unexpected scene. “But how?”

Ash shook his head. “It matters no more. If I cannot spare the lives of all, I can at least save one.” He gestured for Briar to enter.

Briar stepped to the doorframe, but something gnawed at her and made her turn back to Ash. “Please forgive me,” she said. “I just—I can't. Whatever is happening for you—that life, your world isn't for me. I'm sorry. I can't be who you want me to be.”

Ash nodded formally. “Better for you to have lived your life freely, than to have been bound, as others, to a life not of their own design,” he said.

Briar didn't understand, but she managed a flicker of a smile.

“Do me one last favor,” Ash said. Briar's smile faded. “Always wear that trinket. It must touch the skin. And none but you should see it.”

Briar nodded and clasped the key to her chest.

“Goodbye, Briar of the Black Woods,” Ash said. He made a motion with one hand and the closet door swung shut.

Briar wanted to say goodbye, but once she was on the bedroom side of the door, it swiftly shut. She reached for the knob, thinking to perhaps open it again. But she just stood there
with her hand extended. She felt a wave of sadness for something unnamable lost. Instead of re-opening the door, she backed away into the safe, familiar darkness.

Chapter 10

Who am I?

It might be a little late to be asking the question now. Right? Still, I go over it again and again, especially since that crazy night. I know the answer. Deep inside I know it. But I'm afraid to admit it to myself. I'm afraid because it means my whole life is a lie. So I go around and around, whittling it in different ways. But I always come up with the same answer. I've been playing at being Briar the foster child—the abandoned—the unloved. I'm an impersonation of some in-your-face outsider. I'm not made up of my past, or my thoughts or my feelings— no
.

Who am I?

It's so clear to me now. I don't exist at all—and I never did. I am not
.
And at the same time, I am. I am Briar of the fricken' Black Woods
.

Dressed in flowing Renaissance-era robes of crushed red velvet, Briar stood in the shadowed wings of her school auditorium.

“Big night, huh?” Dax asked. He was standing behind her.

“Oh,” said Briar. She looked out on the empty stage, but her mind seemed much further away. “Yeah.” She flipped through the pages of the script, giving them one last glance.

“I don't get it,” Dax said. “You've been moping around for six weeks now. If you need something to cry about, let's talk about my love life.”

“I know, I know,” Briar said. She rocked her head as though shaking off a bad dream. “I don't know what's wrong with me. I guess I'm confused.” She shifted uncomfortably, rustling the pleated folds of her heavy gown.

“Really,” Dax snorted. “Well, that's because your script is upside down.” He turned around the small booklet in her hands. “Hey look, it's opening night! You've never done anything like this. And remember, before any of this you and I were nobodies.
Worse than nobodies—we were laughed-at nobodies. But look at you now: You're playing opposite Leon Squire in the school play. Leon Squire! You even kiss him in one scene. We're the next best thing to being one of those Lucky Kids. Have you practiced the kiss? Tell me you've practiced the kiss.” Dax smiled mischievously.

“He's dressed like an ass when we kiss, Dax.” Briar looked like she was chewing sauerkraut.

He looked at Briar's outfit. “Well, so is everyone else. Don't let that stop you.”

“No, you don't understand,” Briar said. “He's wearing a donkey's head when we kiss. It's just a stage kiss—it's fake. So it doesn't count. Besides, it's painfully obvious that he's not into me.”

“What are you talking about?” Dax said. He was shaping Briar's perky breasts to look a bit plumper in her gown. “He's crazy about you.”

“Dax. He's dating my foster sister. The only one he's crazy about is her. And frankly, anyone who voluntarily socializes with Megan is just plain crazy, if you ask me.”

Right in that moment, Leon emerged from behind a curtain, came up from behind Briar and grabbed her by the shoulders. “There's my girl,” he said. He was wearing his usual broad, sideways smile.

“Hey, Leon,” Briar said with a smile she hoped was hidden.

“How's the best Titania since the invention of Shakespeare?” he asked. Dax crinkled his brow and gave Leon the once-over. He was wearing his own Renaissance garb of black velvet with a rivet-studded black bodice complete with puffed-out shoulders and puffy short pants.

“Nice tights,” Dax said.

“Thanks. I think they make me look fat. Don't you?” Dax laughed and put a hand on Leon's shoulder. “Wow, someone's been hittin' the gym.”

“Down boy,” Briar said to Dax.

“What? It's merely an observation.”

“Down boy.”

They all laughed.

“Ready for our opening?” Leon asked Briar.

“I suppose,” Briar said.

“You look…” He paused to consider his words carefully after taking a step back and inspecting Briar's gown. She could feel his eyes on her, following the curve of her velvety silhouette. “Incredible.” He sounded surprised by his declaration.

And it was true. Briar was hardly recognizable now that she had removed her usual Goth black lipstick and eyeliner. Now that she wasn't able to retreat behind her mantle of grunge boots and tattered Victorian garb, she looked delicate, elfin, refined. Her skin was milky, and her cheeks had the slightest blush. Her lips were a watercolor pink and she pulled her raven hair up into a sleek ballerina's bun. Her piercings even seemed less noticeable now. But Briar felt naked, even vulnerable without her usual outfit that armored her against the dangers of the teenage world. And Leon staring at her in this way, with a goofy grin on his face, made her more self-conscious than ever.

“Thanks,” Briar said. She knew he wanted her to say something back, to acknowledge that she understood that he might have thought of her as more than a buddy. But she was never going to embarrass herself again; she made a vow the day that they sat in his car together, not to mention the issue with Megan being his girlfriend. Briar would rather not awaken that demon. Best to handle this with a one-liner, she thought. And with a raised eyebrow she said, “Nice tights.”

“I can't argue with that,” Leon said. But he didn't laugh, or say anything more. Instead, his eyes trailed her beauty once more and it made her blush.

Then from the shadows of the stage, Megan appeared, smiling cruelly. “Well, handsome, what are you doing here in the dark?”
She sauntered out from behind a faux iron garden gate ornamented with plastic vines and bright yellow roses at the center of the stage. “Oh, I'm sorry. Was this a private conversation?”

“Yeah, private. Ha! Love it,” Marnie said. She was following Megan like a shadow, nose in her phone.

“Shut up, Marnie,” Megan said.

“Oh hey, Megan,” Leon said. “We were just having a little pep-talk before the show.”

Dax whispered to Briar, “Did she have a freakin' homing device surgically implanted in him, or what?”

Megan slinked up to Leon and wrapped her arms around his neck like two pythons ready for lunch. “I wouldn't want my little Bottom to tire out before the play,” she said. She embraced him and placed her chin on his shoulder.

“Excuse me?” Dax blurted.

“That's the name of his character in the play. It's Bottom,” Briar said from the side of her mouth.

“I wouldn't advertise that,” Dax said.

Over Leon's shoulder, Megan glared at Briar and Dax. Then she turned her attention back to Leon. “I brought you a little opening night gift,” she said. Leon laughed uncomfortably.

“Marnie!” Megan snapped like a gruff dog owner. Obediently, Marnie produced a red rose. Megan grabbed it and sniffed it before handing it to Leon along with a protracted kiss that was aimed at making Briar and Dax feel as though they were inconveniences. “Promise you'll think of me when you have your unfortunate, awkward moment with Briar.”

Leon took the rose. “Who's the best girlfriend ever?”

Dax couldn't contain himself. “Just about anyone but her.”

Megan ignored Dax. “Let's go over your lines one more time,” she said. “Practice makes perfect.” She escorted Leon through the trees, across the stage. Once Leon was safely out of earshot, Megan stepped back into the dim light where Briar and Dax
could see her. “Break a leg,” she said with a taunting lilt.

“Uh, thank you?” Dax looked disgusted.

“And if that isn't convenient,” Megan added, “break something else.” Then she turned with a hair flip and disappeared into the black curtains.

“Yeah. Catch you on the flippity-flip,” Dax shouted back. Then to Briar he snorted, “That girl's got game. Creepy as shit, though.

This exchange with Megan and Marnie could have thrown Briar off completely. Instead she plunged herself into the play. Once it began, she lost all track of her life with Megan and Marnie. For now, she was only
Titania
, Queen of the Fairies. Just as at her audition, Briar spoke her lines as if she had eerily transformed into her character. Dax sat in the front row beaming at his friend and her brilliant, if not anomalous talent.

Before Briar knew it, the time had come for her stage kiss with Leon. As Titania, she lay asleep amid a bed of plastic stage flowers. Leon as Bottom began to sing.

As Briar roused herself from her pretended rest, she said, “What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?” She looked at Leon, now shirtless, but donkey-headed. The light exaggerated his broad, clean musculature—his rippling abdominals and his barber-pole thick biceps. Briar found it distracting. “Gentle mortal, sing again…” she went on a bit mechanically. Her mind darted as they neared the kiss. At first she thought about the other kids at school, and how they would see her differently from now on. But that was a distraction from her fear. Sure it was a stage kiss, but it held meaning for her—and maybe it did for Leon too. “Mine ear is enamored…”

Her heart beat faster, her stomach knotted. She locked eyes with Leon through his mask and felt queasy. “Thy fair virtue's force doth move me to say, to swear, I love thee.”

Leon smiled beneath his mask. Before the kiss, Titania called forth her fairies: “Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and
Mustardseed!”

But instead of the actresses playing their parts, an unexpected dark-robed figure, face—shadowed by the deep folds of a hood—entered through the garden gate. The figure stood next to Leon, who didn't seem to notice anything unusual.

The intruder pulled back the hood to reveal a young woman with thick blue dreadlocks. She wore strange gear-covered goggles, and there were strange dark shapes tattooed above and below her eyes. Her shoes were black with white spats that buttoned up to her knees, and she was fitted in a body-hugging corset. She gazed at the floor for a moment, and mouthed some words, looking like a perverse nun irreverently reciting a prayer. Then she fastened her dark empty eyes on Briar. Her goggles made a strange hissing noise as gears clicked causing the lenses to mechanically refocus.

The intruder pulled her dark red lips into a sickening grin while reaching to her side. Briar noticed the steely musculature of the woman's arms as she reached across her body, and how the boned bodice fit snugly to her tight, athletic physique.

Briar turned her eyes to the audience and noticed that no one was reacting to any of this. The only apparent oddity was Briar, who seemed to have stalled with her lines.

The intruder produced a short sharp instrument, like a thick needle, and with it she unexpectedly jabbed Leon's side. Briar waited for Leon to react, but he barely noticed. Then the woman produced a silver hand mirror with green jewels along its border and across its back. A small trickle of blood oozed from Leon's wound. The woman dabbed it with a finger, then licked it clean. She turned the mirror to reflect Leon. A stream of tiny silvery lights sparkled around his body. In an instant, he shrank to the floor, and his clothes collapsed into a heap. From them, a frog hopped out. The woman stuffed the transformed Leon into her cloak.

The audience gasped and applauded what appeared to be a
theatrical special effect. Briar froze with fear and confusion. She watched as the woman re-hooded herself and strode at a measured pace to the iron gate, vanishing through it with Leon.

Chapter 11

Briar stood onstage alone, fear stabbing her. There was only one thing to do, and she felt she had little time in which it could be accomplished. Even though other characters entered the stage and continued with the play, Briar bounded from the set and grabbed at Dax's wool scarf as he sat in front row. “Let's go,” she said. There was a force in her voice.

“Oh, good lady,” Dax said. He turned toward the audience in an awkward attempt to save the play. “Dost thou not need to return to thy players?”

Briar gripped Dax's scarf tighter. “Now,” she said. Then she yanked Dax out of his seat.

“Jesus Christ, m'lady,” Dax said.

The two of them picked up momentum through the center aisle and burst through the double doors into the shadows of the car-lined street.

“O.M. to the G., Briar. Have you lost your mind?” Dax asked. He pulled Briar's iron grip from his scarf and he rubbed his neck to get the feeling back. “Jeez, have you been working your biceps with Leon or something?”

Briar was about to attempt an explanation when she heard a noise like long fingernails tapping and clicking on cement. Briar looked away from Dax, focusing on the sound.

“Helloooo?” Dax sang waving a hand in front of Briar's eyes as if waking a hypnosis subject.

Not again
, she thought. “Did you hear that?” Briar asked.

Dax looked left and right, shifting his eyes rapidly with are-you-kidding-me eyes. Then he spoke to Briar as though she was an un-medicated psychiatric patient. “Were you struck in the head with a dodge-ball? What in the hell are you doing? You've just left in the middle of your play!”

Briar heard growling. She saw a dark shape with luminous
amber eyes hiding in the shadows at the auditorium doors. She pulled Dax down and they fell behind one of the parked cars— hands first, onto the street. “Stay low,” she commanded, and peeked up just enough to scan the area.

“I was going to say you're losing it. But now I see you've completely lost it,” Dax said.

The creature stepped out from the shadows—it was one of the walking wolves Briar had seen before, with its long hand-like paws, sharp dripping fangs, and its crazed, hungry eyes. “Are these things fucking tracking my every move?” Briar mumbled.

Her thoughts became sketchy and unfocused; her breath was shallow and rapid. Then her stomach churned with heat that spread like liquid fire throughout her body. She would have panicked with such a feeling, but the heat-energy seemed to block out all fear. Briar's focus became acute and her vision sharpened. She reached up and tried the door of the car behind which they hid, but it was locked.

“Where did you park your car?” Briar asked.

“Uh, crazy much? I'll tell you right after you tell me what you think you're doing.”

“Dax, we are in danger. Well, actually,
I'm
in danger, and you're just in harm's way. Sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

The wolf stepped one of its scraggly limbs down the school steps toward them, as though hungrily hunting, not wanting to disturb its prey. It squinted its furious eyes and saliva dribbled in long strands from its jaws.

“I know you can't see what I'm seeing, but believe me, Dax, we need to get into your car
right now.”

Dax sensed a desperation in Briar's voice that he had never heard before. He knew that whatever this episode was—even if she was having a mental breakdown—it wasn't the time to debate. Better to just get her home and hash this out later.

“This way,” he said, though he didn't want to encourage any
of this.

“On three,” Briar whispered. She counted on her fingers and then, holding hands, they darted away from the parked car and ran across the street to the gated school lot.

The wolf leapt on all fours, and bulleted toward them with a vicious, gravely growl. Briar yanked Dax's hand and pulled him through the chain link fence, crashed the gate closed, and fumbling for the chain and lock. The wolf slammed into the gate and tried to fit its snout through the links to bite off Briar's hand. But she managed to lock the padlock and pull her hands clear. She grabbed Dax's hand and dragged him deep into the lot. Then she pulled him to a crouch between two tightly parked cars.

The wolf yanked at the chain link with its knife-edged teeth, rattling it, wrenching it apart. Once it tore a hole big enough, it squirmed through and into the lot. Then it jumped and landed, claws first, onto the roof of one of the nearby cars, buckling the roof under its weight. Long claw marks ripped up the car's paint where the creature skidded to a stop.

“What was that—?” Dax stood up, gawking at the wrecked car. He turned on his cell phone to video record, but Briar slapped the phone away and dragged him down again.

“We have to be very still,” she whispered. She felt a battle waging inside her—one side felt like melted gum on steaming pavement, the other felt an almost animal-like sense to survive— maybe even to destroy. She had never felt this other side before, but she could sense it all coming from that heat-energy coursing through her body. But it wasn't clear which side would win.

She peeked low through a car window and watched the wolf sniff the air, trying to get the scent of its prey. Then it bayed with a thirst for blood. She knew they must have thrown the creature off, making it both confused and angry. It snarled, and then with a shriek of its nails on metal, the beast sprang away. It hopped from one car roof to another, crumpling hoods until it left Briar's view.

Hearing each car buckling beneath some unseen force, Dax sank low to the ground. “I didn't sign up for this bullshit,” he said.

Briar grabbed his arm. “Shut the hell up, Dax. Just tell me where you parked your car. I can't see it.”

The reality of danger finally occurred to him and he couldn't find a way to form words. He began hyperventilating. Briar shook him, repeating her command. Finally he whispered, “It's over there.” He pointed toward the cruddy old white convertible parked about six cars away from where they hid.

Briar needed Dax to focus. Just one wrong move could lead to ripped out throats. She held him by the shoulders and made serious eye contact. “Give me your keys—very quietly,” she murmured.

Dax nodded. His eyes were clear and focused now. He drew the keys from his pocket and they made a small tinkling noise. In response, another car bounced and scraped as the wolf jumped atop, sniffing and grunting. Briar pulled Dax low and signaled for him to follow her beneath the car. Dax handed the keys to her and together they wriggled on their bellies across the asphalt beneath the cars.

Before crossing to the next vehicle, Briar looked around for paws. Then they'd scurry beneath the next car, and the next. It was slow going, and strenuous, as they snaked along. But eventually, Briar saw the notched footboard of Dax's car. They crouched low and Briar eased the key into the lock.

“Rush past me and get into the passenger seat,” Briar said almost silently. Dax nodded and then flexed his neck as he curled himself into position. Then she pulled on the door handle and it opened with a mechanical clink. She swung the door as wide as she could, and Dax scrambled across the seats. Briar jumped in and slammed the door.

“Lock ‘em,” she said. Her voice was like steel girders.

“The doors don't lock anymore,” Dax replied.

“Hey, Garden of Eden, bite the apple already and get your damn doors fixed.”

Briar fiddled with the keys in the ignition. The engine turned once and then stalled. Dax looked around, still seeing nothing that could cause such damage. But he held the door handle in a vice grip.

The wolf landed with a thud on the hood of the car just in front of them. Dax only saw the car rocking by some unseen force, but Briar saw the wolf balancing itself on its shaggy, knotted limbs. “Get down!” Briar said and they both slid down as low as they could.

The wolf stood, its teeth glistening with rage. It cranked its head back with a mournful call to the moon, announcing the end. It flexed its hand-like paws, extending its sharp, black claws and it stepped across to Dax's hood. The old vehicle rocked on its corroded shocks. Dax held his breath, but that slight inhalation was enough to signal their presence.

The wolf lowered its ears and slammed its front paw against the car windshield while snapping its jaws and making wild, ferocious sounds. It gripped with its black claws and the glass cracked and punctured, showering Briar and Dax with sharp little crumbs. The creature battered the windshield again, this time breaking through. Glass sprayed inward like tiny chunks of ice, and Dax let loose a full-bodied shout. Now the wolf knew they were there. It reached its pointed claws in through the broken glass, flailed at the dashboard and tore out deep gouges. Then it fitted its muzzle in and tried to bite whatever it could.

Briar sat up and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine turned and the car rumbled with a roar that rivaled the wolf's own. Looking down for the gearshift, Briar placed the car in drive, and she stomped on the gas pedal. The car lurched forward and rammed the car in front of them, sending the wolf skidding over the other vehicle's hood. It whined, then slid down between the two bumpers and lay on the ground, stunned.

Briar then slammed the car into reverse and hammered her foot on the gas again. Then once more she shifted into drive as she clobbered the gas pedal. The car lurched forward. By then, the injured wolf was trying to stand. But before it had a chance to rise completely, the car smacked into it, squishing it between the two bumpers. Dax's car hood crumpled like a paper cup, and there was a hiss like pressured steam escaping. Briar watched— Dax still saw nothing—but the creature evaporated into a black cloud that blended into the black paint of the car in front of them.

Briar was not about to wait to see if anything further could happen. The engine still rumbled with its tinny, yanking gyrations, so she thrust it into reverse. Going backwards, the vehicle boomed through the chain link fence onto the street. The undercarriage scraped against the pavement, and sent sparks flying. Briar floored the gas pedal and steered, looking over her shoulder. “These things travel in pairs,” she warned.

“What things?” Dax asked. His voice was strangled and he gritted his teeth, preparing to fight, if it came to that.

The car rocked as something heavy landed on the roof, and began tearing the fabric up. “Holy shit,” Dax yelled as something he could not see pierced through the cloth roof with four small holes. Briar watched the black, hairy digits twisting around until they hooked onto the cab ceiling and began to pull, as if trying to open a can of sardines. “Kick the ceiling,” Briar shouted. Dax hit the lever to make the seat drop back and he began bashing his shoes into the holes. The wolf on the roof screamed wildly and Briar watched as two of its claws pulled out. The bloody things dropped between Dax's legs.

Then the car conked out. Briar twisted the key in the ignition, but the starter only clicked.

With the car no longer in motion, the creature persevered with a frenzied panting. It ripped and pulled with its remaining claws until it succeeded in gouging a hole big enough to fit its fangy muzzle though. The beast snapped at whatever it could.

Dax could see the fabric tearing and ferociously shaking. “Try the car again,” he shouted.

“Dax watch out!” Briar screamed. But it was too late. The wolf sank its teeth deeply into Dax's scarf and it pulled it out through the hole, strangling Dax. The wolf began to shake its head, as though killing small prey caught by the throat. Dax stiffened against the attack and tugged back on the scarf enough to open his airway.

“Oh my God! Start, you fucking car!” Briar yowled and slammed her fists against the steering wheel.

With that, her hands began to tingle and then two blue flames engulfed them. Briar gasped. She felt her heart make an indecisive tremble. But it subsided when she realized that the flames only tingled a little, and didn't burn. Instinctively, she reached up to the wolf's muzzle with one of the blue-flames.

“What—is—that?” Dax choked one word at a time through gritted teeth. I don't know!” Briar yelled back as the undulating blue thing suddenly detached. Tiny bolts of electrical current ran up Dax's scarf and she heard something sizzle. It suddenly smelled like overcooked meat.

The creature let out an ear-piercing shriek as it flipped onto the street. It was badly singed and much of its exposed flesh hung rubbery from where it had fallen away from its face, leaving half of its skull visible and bloody. It hobbled away from the car and down the empty street, screeching in a high-pitched wail through the blackness.

“Dax! Holy shit!” she shouted. But Dax couldn't hear her. He was twisted into ball, coughing and drinking in air. “Dax are you all right?”

Briar didn't dare take time to turn the car around. She drove it backward all the way home, hoping that no other wolves could follow.