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Storymakers: Wanted Part 10

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For a few beats, he didn't move. Then he squeezed me and pushed me back just far enough to examine my face.

"It is true." He squeezed my cheeks, turning my head from one side to the other, looking at me from all angles. "You're alive. And...happy to see me." He said the last bit slowly, his tone rising at the end like a question.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" I hugged him again. "After I ran away, I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"You ran away." Again with the raised eyebrows and tone.

"Hex sake, Dad, haven't you wondered where I've been the last six years? I wanted to show you I could be just as good as Will, Tuck, and the rest of the guys, so I snuck off and broke into the Emerald Palace." I tried to remember how I got trapped there and shoved in the kitchens and why I never tried to escape and get back to my dad, but there was a giant, gaping hole in that part of my memory. "I guess I wasn't as good a thief as I thought. You must have been worried sick. I'm sorry." The words came out halted and felt like spitting out rusted nails.



The blank look on his face morphed into the handsome smile that was famous for making maids swoon. "Water under the bridge, my merry girl. I was just beside myself for ages, but I'm a firm believer that we each have our own path to follow. It's very important to forgive. Let's not mention it again." He patted my cheek, then sat us both up. "I'm just amazed you're okay. I'd about given up hope. It's been three days since that fiend...you know..." He made a slicing motion, curving his hand like a hook.

"Three days? I wonder why it took so long to resurrect this time. Maybe because I'm so far away from Princess Dorthea and the opal."

Dad perked up. "Resurrect? Princess? Opal? I think you best be starting at the beginning."

"It's a loooong tale. Somebody could write a whole book about it."

"I'm not going anywhere, so take your time."

So I told him. Everything. The good and the bad. Well, at least all the bits I could remember. Because after all, if you can't trust your family, who can you trust? Blood is thicker than water, or something.

Dad paced back and forth in front of a giant dead tree. "So let me get this straight. This richy-rich brat made a wish that broke all the ties to our original stories and rewrote the rules of magic. And then you got suckered into doing her dirty work to fix it. For free."

"Well, sort of..."

"And in the process, you had your life essence stolen by the Storm Witch and shoved into an opal necklace, which you also didn't get to keep." He stood still with his hands on his hips, jaw ticking and lips pursed.

I squirmed under his glare. "You see, like I said, it's complicated. There's-"

"Ah, yes, I know. You got stabbed in the back by your friend."

I stood up, meeting him eye to...well, chin because he was still a lot taller than me. "Not by. For. I saved her. I did a good thing," I said, pounding my chest.

Dad put his hands on my shoulders. "And what did you get for it? Did this princess give you a kingdom?"

"Well, no."

"Maybe some riches?"

"No, cuz, you see, I sorta needed to redeem-"

Dad's grip tightened. "Says who? You did the right thing, and that book doesn't even count it. No, for your bravery and loyalty and trouble, you have the Grimm Reaper after you, then resurrection, death, resurrection, repeat. And all your so-called friends abandoned you without offering any help to save your temporarily immortal soul."

I stepped back and pointed to my boots. "Dorthea said she's working on it, but that's why she used her Storymaker magic to make these boots to keep Morte away."

Dad's face clouded even more. "What have I always taught you about these so-called muckety-mucks? If you want something-"

"You've got to take it for yourself," I finished and droned on, "ain't n.o.body looking out for you 'cept you."

"That's my girl," Dad said, ruffling my hair. Then he squatted low. "Now let's take a look at these magic freak boots. Maybe we can sell 'em at the market." He poked, prodded, and tugged.

Before I could say anything, I was on my rear, and he was yanking with all his might.

"Owowowowowow!" It felt like he was trying to amputate my leg.

He let go. "It's stuck."

"Ya think? Leave them be. Right now they're the only things keeping Morte away from me. Plus they're not freak; they're unique. Fierce haute couture." I stuck my leg out and admired the foresty fashion.

Dad's eyes widened, and he bit his lip. "Those monsters, what have they done to you? My merry girl wouldn't be caught dead saying something like that."

A wave of shock hit me. Then shame as I looked into his disappointed face. Then horror that he was right. To make matters worse, I realized I knew what haute couture was. Without a second to lose, I scrambled at my throat for the bag of sap and upended the thing to my mouth.

Not even a drop.

I shook it, then gave it a good look to see what was clogged. I felt like hurling. The drinking skin was empty, a giant hole cut right through the center. About the right size for a hook.

"It's gone...." I grabbed my dad's shirt. "A tree. I need a tree."

Dad pried my fingers off. "Look around, kiddo. You're in a forest."

"No." I explained the sap medicine. "Verte said she took the leaves and the last of the sap from my tree. If I can figure out what she meant, then maybe I can find more."

Dad pointed to the withered giant ironwood at the end of the decrepit camp that used to be my home. "Remember the stories I used to tell you about the forest? How the trees grew up from the blood and iron of the Holy Grail War?"

I didn't answer but rushed over to inspect the tree.

"Supposedly, that is the first ironwood. Sprouted from King Arthur and the black prince's heart blood. Don't you remember this at all?" Dad's voice lowered, losing its melody. No longer the fading warmth of autumn, but the sad bleakness of winter, his voice was grim. "You'd climb that tree and beg me to tell you tales. I could hardly coax you from its limbs."

If I tried to climb the tree now, I was betting it'd snap in two. The trunk was blackened and gnarled. The limbs drooped to the ground like a willow, like an old man with stooped shoulders. I pried the bark loose, but the underneath was dry. No leaves, no sap. Nothing.

Dad came up behind me and put a hand on my back. "It started to die the day you left."

I pointed to the rest of the camp. "And the rest? Where are the boys?"

"We all searched for you for years." He shook his head. "They didn't make it back. Everything fell apart."

He didn't say it, but I could hear his unspoken because of you.

My insides felt like they were rotting.

I am a child of the trees...

And the trees were all dead.

I sank to the ground. "What am I going to do?" My fault. It was all my fault. I didn't need the magic mirror to tell me what my future was anymore. Soon I wouldn't even remember any of my past.

"I'm gonna help you make it right," my dad said. "You can't save the boys, but we can sever the bonds that keep stealing at your soul."

"How?" I kept blinking to keep the burning in my eyes from turning into tears.

"There's only one piece of magic pure enough to break any binding spell and purify any curse." Dad ran his thumb across my cheek. "You and me, merry girl, we're gonna pull a heist with a bigger score than ever before-we're gonna steal Excalibur."

"Rule #2: In every story, the hero has a mentor who will guide and impart great wisdom on their journey. These mentors are often magical, sometimes animal, but nearly always rather cranky."

-Definitive Fairy-Tale Survival Guide, Volume 5: Heroes.

18.

Camelost.

There it was again-a glimmer of hope, a sprout of belief...right before a heel squishes it out.

"Hate to break it to you, Dad, but someone beat you to it. Excalibur's already been taken. You were at the museum. It's gone."

He stood up and walked toward the lake. "It's not gone. Lost. And lost can be found." After reaching into his pocket, he pulled out what looked an awful lot like the compact magic mirror. "With a little help."

I was about to school him on the manic-depressive mirror's quirks, but instead, Robin Hood robbed from the wicked to give to the lake-or more precisely, he robbed from me and tossed it in the lake.

That got me to my feet. "What are you doing? How are we supposed to find Excalibur now?"

"That second-rate trinket couldn't track something as powerful as the holy sword of many names. To do that, we need to ask the woman who bestowed the kingmaker in the first place."

The lake bubbled and gurgled from its center, where the mirror had plopped into the water. The ripples grew and lit up. Mist formed along the surface, and a gelatinous sea monster with green hair and pearl eyes rose from the lake.

My dad, Robin of Locks-who swore he'd never recognize a claim of sovereignty over him-lowered himself to one knee and bowed by the sh.o.r.e. "Oh, lovely Lady of the Lake-"

"Lovely?" I choked out, stunned, while Dad shot a scathing look at me.

"Thank you for accepting my humble offering."

"Robin Hood, you have thrown many things into this lake maneuvering for something better in return. Yet, to bring this girl to me again, you are either a fool or more cunning than I had given credit for."

"Again?" I asked. I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but the legends my dad had told me had never mentioned the Lady of the Lake was a swamp thing. I wasn't sure what she would do with the mirror. I really hoped she wouldn't ask it about her fairness, because she wouldn't like the answer.

"I see," she said. Her blank, pearl eyes seemed to bore into me. It was an uncomfortable stare to say the least, and my wrist started to burn in response. I clamped down on it and slowly, like a gauzy curtain being drawn back, I had a hazy memory of nearly drowning in this lake. I'd made it out...except I had died anyway.

Remembering any more was slipperier than trying to hold on to the lady's eel hands.

"I'm sorry, Robin." She sighed. "Throw in an iron ax and I can return it to you gold, but I cannot reverse what has been done or remake her more than what she is. However, my offer stands. I can keep her in sleep at the bottom of my waters, so that the pestilence does not grow."

"There's another way. Excalibur. The sword was forged to break oaths and binds."

Her pearl eyes flashed. "That is a dangerous idea. Excalibur was made to unite the world under a single banner, to protect those who had been abused and oppressed. It is the liberator."

Listening to them talk, maybe this sword was exactly what I needed. I really didn't know which was worse, having my soul swallowed up by Morte or slowly having all that was me replaced by Dorthea. It was like being hung and burned at the stake at the same time-it didn't really matter which one killed you. Either way, you suffered, and the best you could hope for was a merciful arrow to the heart. Only that wouldn't work for me since I couldn't stay dead.

I wasn't about to bow to the lady, but I did soften my tone and put my hands in front of me to plead. "If the compendium refuses my name and I'm destined to be one of the Forgotten, then I'm going to do that as Rexi, not a puppet of the Emerald curse. Not a p.a.w.n for Morte."

The choppy lake stilled, like a storm calming. "What makes you think you can retrieve the sword while the wicked, gluttonous witch still searches for it?"

I didn't have an answer for that. I'd forgotten Blanc was looking for Excalibur as well. Guess to be empress, you need the sword of kings.

Dad jumped in when I stayed mute. "My lady, you had to have seen how the tree glowed when I laid her body next to it." His demeanor changed so slightly most would have missed it. But I knew this smile, this gleam in his eye. This was Robin Hood, the man who could con Tinker Bell into buying a lifetime supply of organic pixie dust. "You said you could feel its presence in Camelot. Take her, and she'll be drawn to it." He clapped an arm around my shoulder.

Which I promptly shrugged off. "Camelot? And don't you mean take us? This was your plan. I'm gonna need your help to pull it off."

The jelly ma.s.s jiggled, swaying back and forth. "Whether Excalibur was stolen or returned of its own accord, I don't know. Magic has a mind of its own. But Camelot was recently taken over, and it's now guarded by a powerful force field. The only way to bypa.s.s it is through the waters of Avalon. All waters of Story are interconnected and, for the most part, still under my control. If you remember, I gave you a gift so that no water may harm you. I could lead you to Avalon, but unless your father has managed to steal some gills, you will have to go alone."

"But not for long," Dad cut in. "Have a little faith, kiddo. I am the greatest thief that ever was. I will go over land and find a way in somehow. And in the meantime, you can keep this with you." He handed me the golden crossbow from the museum. "You are my daughter. I know you have what it takes, and now you'll have my double bull's-eye aim as well." He put his hands on either side of my face and kissed my forehead. "I swear, I will do whatever it takes to free you of your burden. This sword is the answer to all my troubles." His smile notched up. "Our troubles."

The water gurgled. "I said I could lead her, not that I would."

"But you will," Robin challenged. "Time is running out. That witch grows stronger, and Rexi is your best hope of keeping Excalibur out of her hands. I have faith in my merry girl. I know that, when the time comes, she'll do the right thing and save us all."

Ropes of kelp shot out of the lake, drawing me to the edge. "Poor child. You didn't want to be a hero or a champion, so I will not ask you to protect the sword for the good of the world, but swear you will seize the sword and turn it back over to my care, if only to save yourself."

Now that I could promise.

"I swear."

"Then, Robin, we have an accord." And without giving me a chance to say good-bye, the kelp yanked me into the lake.

From my place underwater, Dad's voice was muted, but he said, "Find the sword and I'll find you." Or it could have been Mind the swordfish or they'd skewer me. Like I said, words were a bit garbled.

My eyes took a minute to adjust to the murkiness of the lake. But when they did, it didn't look like we were in the lake at all. The water wasn't cloudy brown; it was deep blue and bright corals dotted the sandy floor.

I'd been holding my breath out of reflex, but I couldn't stall breathing forever. A big clown fish and a smaller one with a gimpy fin darted to and fro in front of my face, tickling my nose. Without much choice, I sneezed, scaring off the fish. I tried breathing the water, trusting the Lady of the Lake and my body's memory that this would work out.

In and out, like normal. Just wetter.

"How are we in the ocean?" I asked, little bubbles coming out of my mouth.

"I said as much before-all the waters in Story are interconnected. And I have dominion over them and all that reside within."

The lady had not changed with the scenery. She was still as kelpy and swampy as ever. But I suppose it made sense. Since she had domain over all the waters, her body was made of elements of lake, ocean, sea, and pond.

She still had ahold of me with her seaweed hair. And we were going fast enough that some of the aquatic creatures that made up her body kept getting left in our wake-or eaten by bigger fish within her.

We didn't have time to sightsee, but to the right, a glint of gold caught my eye.

I dug my heels into the sand to slow myself to look. Seemingly out of place with the ocean's natural landscape were giant, gold fish gates. As in, a huge metal barrier shaped like a fish complete with mermen patrolling in front on seahorses and carrying oversize copper forks. A shiny, white coral castle glittered behind the barrier.

"Is that-" One of the Lady of the Lake's jellyfish zapped me.

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Storymakers: Wanted Part 10 summary

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