Authors: Marissa Burt
“Bully for Snow!”
The Westerns had been doing this whenever they saw Snow or her mother. They wouldn’t stop until Snow responded in kind, and it was beginning to get old.
“Bully for all of us!” She waved her wrist weakly in the air. The Westerns seemed to enjoy retelling the battle as much as they had relished fighting it in the first place.
“I lit the fuse myself,” Pearl was saying with a gap-toothed grin.
“But I set the powder off.” Effie Lou flexed a muscle. “Let’s tell the whole tale, eh, Pearl?”
Her mother’s shouted instructions drifted across the air. “Move out! Cowboys, you bring up the rear. Indians, scout ahead. Everyone else stay close and look sharp. The Enchanted Forest is no place to relax your guard.”
They might have won the battle, but the war was far from over. If what the witch queen had told them was true, the Muse Fidelus was about to crown himself King.
Snow didn’t know if they had much hope of stopping Fidelus and Duessa. Some of Effie Lou’s friends had heard rumors about a gathering somewhere near Fairy Village, but even if there were other characters willing to fight Fidelus, it didn’t matter. The Enemy would have the Scroll soon, if he didn’t already. Her mother thought the Enemy would try to rewrite Story with the Lost Elements, and if the Taleless were any indication of Fidelus’s plans, Snow felt sure that whatever he wrote for Story’s future would be a nightmare. What good had stopping the Taleless really done? Now the Westerns might live another few days. Until the next Taleless attack. Or until Story’s End. But her mother said they had to try. And for once Snow agreed with her.
“Good work, Snow,” her mother had said after the battle, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. She said it in the same voice she might have used if Snow had done well on an exam. Snow felt like laughing. Even now, after what they had been through together, her mother was all formality.
Maybe that’s just her way
. Snow still didn’t know everything about her mother. She didn’t know why she had chosen the Warlock over her baby, where her mother had learned to incinerate half-dead Taleless, or how she had concocted the miraculous potion she had used to heal the wounded. But Snow did know that her mother was brave. And that she cared for the weak.
Her mother could have left the Westerns to die on the Ranch. Snow probably would have. She looked back up to the front of the company, where her mother’s familiar form leaned in to consult with an Indian chief. Snow’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. Despite all the questions surrounding her mother, despite all she had seen that appalled her, Snow realized one thing that surprised her. She was actually starting to like her mother.
Sooner than Snow would have liked, they entered the Enchanted Forest with its dense trees looming overhead, an especially unwelcome sight now that it was nearly dark. The Westerns had spread out. Those who were unarmed had their hands up, as though their very bodies could somehow become weapons. The forest itself seemed like it was waiting for something, and the air was heavy with a cold humidity. Snow’s muscles tensed at the smallest sounds. Even Effie Lou and her gang were quiet, their bragging finally silenced. Snow groped for the heavy branding iron that hung at her side. Just the weight of it made her braver.
Their whole plan depended on locating one of Archimago’s tunnels into the dungeons and entering the castle that way. Back at the Warlock’s hideout, her mother had written a message to the other Resistance members saying as much, but Snow didn’t know if the leprechauns had made it out before Archimago attacked. She had brought up the idea of attending the coronation ball, but Snow’s mother thought it would be too risky. “What if Fidelus enchants us with his voice?” she had said, and the Westerns had unanimously vetoed the plan. That left, at best, launching an unexpected attack from the bowels of the castle. At worst, it meant they’d be caught and have to fight outside the castle walls.
A full-on attack against the castle was preposterous. The Westerns were brave, that was for sure, but there weren’t very many of them. What had happened at the Ranch had been lucky. The explosion had taken the Taleless by surprise, her mother had worked some fast charms, and the rage of the prisoners had done the rest. But to lay siege to the castle? Against the forces of the Enemy and the Red Enchantress? Snow knew as well as anyone that she and the Westerns were basically marching to their deaths.
A cloud moved away from the setting sun, and for a moment the forest looked like it was awash in blood, the glistening color of the bark reflecting back the fading daylight.
Snow felt the air bristle. Birdcalls sounded in the forest as the Indians scouted the surrounding land. The leaders of the Westerns gathered near her mother to plan their approach. Snow wrapped her fingers around her weapon and gave it a practice swing.
There was a bustle of movement in front of her, and figures began shouting out things Snow couldn’t understand. Three low owl hoots, the Indians’ call for
Enemy!
was the only warning they had. Snow whipped her iron through the air. There would be no sneaking around. No tunneling under the fortress with the element of surprise. No hidden advantages. It was time to fight.
K
ai seemed unconcerned when Una told him about Fidelus’s plan to use the Lost Elements to rewrite Story. He was not shocked when he heard about Elton ripping characters out of Tales or Duessa giving the Taleless bodies or Fidelus holding a big coronation ball.
He finished lighting the candles he had taken from his satchel while she told him that Fidelus was going to unwrite anyone who opposed him. “So the Enemy has a plot brewing.” He blew out the match. “Excellent.”
Horace crouched behind Una. Una couldn’t tell if he thought she would protect him, or if he just wanted to hide from Kai.
Kai, however, seemed to completely ignore Horace. He reached into his bag and pulled out a green cloth, which he covered the table with. Then he set two chairs in front of the table, unwrapped a chunk of bread, and took a bite. “You must be hungry,” he said. “I’m ravenous.” Between mouthfuls, he laid the table with some hard cheese, fruit, and more of the bread.
Una didn’t know what to say.
Thanks for the snack? It’ll be nice to eat before we’re unwritten?
Kai didn’t seem to understand the urgency of their situation. “These are the Elements that were used to create Story, Kai.” She tried again. “It really will be The End.”
“Well, it’s smart of him to try, that’s for sure.” He pulled out a flask, took a swig from it, and held it out to her. “Wine?”
Why wasn’t Kai taking this seriously? “Um, no thanks. I’m just a kid.”
Kai laughed long and loud. Una didn’t see what was so funny, and Kai wouldn’t explain. “As you like,” he said when he finally caught his breath. “Have something to eat at least.”
Una joined him at the table and took a handful of grapes. They were delicious. She hadn’t known how hungry she was, and Kai’s table, though simple, felt like a feast. After she had taken the edge off her hunger, she sat back. “So what do we do now?”
“We?”
Kai took his dagger and sliced off a wedge of cheese. “
We
are going to do whatever
we
want.” He gave her a wicked grin as he popped the cheese into his mouth. “As I see it, the bigger question is, What are
you
going to do, Una Fairchild?”
Una snorted. “I think I’ve done enough.” She reached over for the flask and took a swallow. The wine burned going down. “I’m the one who released the Enemy to begin with.”
Kai finished his bite, chewing very slowly. “Now, that’s very interesting.”
Revealing her identity to Horace had been easy. Una had to work to make the words come out this time. “I’m the Enemy’s daughter. And the Red Enchantress is my mother.” She twisted a grape off its stem and rolled it around in her fingers. She didn’t want to look directly at Kai.
Una saw Kai’s hand reach out, and she thought he might comfort her. But he only grabbed an apple from the open sack in front of him and took a big bite out of it.
“So?” he said with his mouth full.
Una raised her eyes to meet his and saw no condemnation there. “So? Don’t you care? I released the Enemy!
I’m
the one who brought him back!”
“Yeah, I got that,” Kai said around his bite of apple.
Una flung her hands up in the air. “No. You don’t. Fidelus has the Elements, Kai. He’s about to become the most powerful King that Story has ever seen. And all because my
mother
”—she spit the word out—“has been deceiving everyone in Story. They’re a pair of lying murderers.” She thrust out her wrist, the bluish-green lines starkly visible beneath her pale skin. “And their blood runs through my veins.”
Kai slapped the table with one hand. “I. Don’t. Care.” He finished his bite of apple and wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. “Thing is, Una, what’s done is done. And you are who you are. But you’ll sit in here and rot if you spend all your time worrying about what you or your parents or whoever else did once upon a time. The question as I see it is, what are you going to do
now
?” He spun the core in his hand and nibbled at the white flesh of the apple.
Una squeezed a grape, and the juice trickled out onto her fingers. “Stop the Enemy, I guess.”
Kai threw his apple against the wall, and it burst into bits. “And that is what makes a predictable story.” It was the closest to angry Una had ever seen him. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Una.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Lots of characters let the baddies write the Tale. The Villain acts, the Hero responds.” He pulled a dagger out of his pocket and began digging around in his teeth. “But that’s just boring. In my kind of Tale, the Hero calls the shots.” His face lit up and he waved the knife around as he spoke. “Surprise the Villain. Unleash the secret weapon. Don’t wait for your father to do whatever he wants.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “You do what you want. You write the Tale, Una.”
Una had heard that all before. “I know, I know, my choices matter. Characters have free will, blah, blah, blah.” She didn’t need a Character Method lesson. She needed help.
“No.” Kai placed both palms on the table and leaned in until his face was very close to her own. “Mark my words. You write the Tale.” He looked up, and it was as though he noticed Horace for the first time.
Horace had been hovering near the fireplace, never letting the food out of his sight. He was rubbing his hands together eagerly, but he hadn’t moved any closer.
Kai went over to him, hand held out palm up. “Come now, lad.” Kai was talking to Horace as though he were a frightened animal. “Join us. You must be hungry.” Horace let Kai lead him over to the chair he had been sitting in.
Horace looked like he was going to cry when he took his first bite. “Thank you,” he managed around the mouthful. Una stared at him. The bruise around his eye was fading. As she watched, the swelling vanished, and the purpling disappeared entirely. The cut on his chin had healed, leaving only a tiny line of dried blood. She looked down at the bread in his hand. “Did you just see . . . ?” she asked Kai, who only winked at her.
Una set down the cluster of grapes she had been holding. “How did you find us here?” she asked Kai carefully.
“I thought you knew.” Kai tipped the other chair up so it sat properly on the floor, spun it around, and swung his legs over it. “You put on my ring.” He rested his chin on the back of the chair and waited.
Una tugged the ring off her finger. The carving of the tree was gone, and the metal was cool in her palm. She traced the smooth center. “There was a tree here.” She swallowed.
“It’s my ring.” Kai raised his eyebrows. “My tree.” He clasped her hand, folding her fingers back over the ring.
At his touch, that same fiery heat shot from the ring. She looked into Kai’s eyes. Coal-black eyes. Familiar eyes. The long ago day when she had first been Written In to Story flashed through her mind. The boy in the library with the book. And the servant at Alethia’s house. Kai’s gaze drew her in, and Una saw images there: a starry sky, the ocean, a tiny baby. They flickered faster: the Kingstree, a pile of ash, a black dragon rimmed in blue, a forest. She lost track of time as the faces of her friends spun together with lights and colors . . . and then it all stopped.
She was on her knees. Everything was as it had been, or nearly as it had been. Una’s hand was sticky with grape juice. Horace was shoveling food into his mouth greedily. The candles on the table flickered in the dusty air. But Kai’s chair was empty. And the door to their prison was open. Una didn’t know where Kai had gone. But she knew one thing. The true King was back in Story.
P
eter was surprised at how organized the makeshift army was. The brief training the characters had undergone combined with the gravity of the situation to fill the air with wary expectation. It hadn’t taken his father long to ready the troops. There had been a tearful farewell at the gate of Bramble Cottage, for the children were staying behind. The very young would be cared for by the very old, as everyone had decided they would be safer away from the Red Castle. There still was the risk that Elton would send forces against Fairy Village, but Peter pitied anyone who dared to come against the likes of Trix. She was already up on a ladder, hammering wood over the windows for extra fortification. Rufus and Bastian had wanted to come too, of course. Only when Peter hinted that the other kids would need brave guardians had they finally agreed to stay and protect them.
“Thank you,” Peter’s mother had whispered, blinking back tears as the boys ran up to the attic to get their practice weapons. She was coming with the army, and Peter hadn’t given it much thought at the moment. But then they started down the lane, and Peter glanced back for one final look at Bramble Cottage. His mother was crying, great shoulder-wrenching sobs. That was when he realized it. They might not ever come back. There was no second chance here. They either defeated the Enemy and his minions, or they didn’t.