Storymakers: Wanted Part 22

"Aye, but what are you going to do?" he asked, but I was already running full tilt with the trident in my hand.

Blanc twisted her hands, and water flowed from the lake, forming a bow with a strand of kelp. As soon as she fired, I hit Blanc's arrow using the trident like a bat, but the arrow curved and corrected course. The magical golden arrow had perfect aim, and Blanc's obsession with Gwen was written on her face. If she saw me running at her with the trident, she didn't flinch.

"It's all you," Kato yelled as I ran past. The air turned frigid, and the water around Blanc turned to ice, freezing her in place.

As I reached into my pocket, I briefly wondered if Kato would have helped me if he knew what I was about to do.

With a final burst of speed, I ran Blanc through with the trident. When her mouth opened in surprise, I shoved in the pearl just before her arrow struck Gwen.

It wasn't the way the pearl was intended to be used, but Blanc's eyes grew wide as the magic did its work. The wheels of time ground to a halt. Even the breeze seemed to hold its breath. Then the arrow spun around as Blanc forgot everyone except who was right in front of her-me.

A sense of dej vu struck me along with the arrow in my back. I guess, some things are just destined to be, no matter how you try to change them. When I died the first time from Griz's stormbolt in the back, I should have stayed dead. Except Dorthea became the Storymaker and changed the ending I'd been written. With my shadow growing, I knew my end was out of her hands this time.

"A willing sacrifice. The final piece I needed to rise again. I'm growing impatient, so while your body dies, I'm afraid I'm reclaiming your soul for some unfinished business with me."

My world turned to shades of gray as I fell to the sand, blood and shadow spreading out beneath me and swallowing me whole.

"Rule 301: For maximum effect, the prince should wait until the last grains of sand are tumbling through the hourgla.s.s to swoop in and rescue the princess. The princess should wait patiently-and hope that the prince's watch isn't running slow."

-Definitive Fairy-Tale Survival Guide, Volume 1.

35.

I'll Follow You Down.

The landscape of Nome Ore that used to rise and fall was now barren and flat. Empty. All that remained was the forge and ink pit. The wails of Forgotten were eerily absent. Tragic that even their last protests were taken from them.

Mine were as well. My shadow was now completely controlled by Morte, corporeal and restraining-inky tar oozing over my mouth and nose and every inch of me. As if that torture was incomplete, Griz slithered back and forth over me, creating snake tracks.

I have been waiting for thissss.

Entombed in tar, maybe I couldn't go kicking and screaming into the dark night, but Morte had left my eyes uncovered. And I could glare with the best of them.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Morte said. "I'm giving you exactly what you wanted. To be special." He pulled my mangled and melted plotline out of his suit pocket. It was no longer straight and knotted. Some parts were thick and braided with green-oxidized wire, while other parts where so thin and withered the wire looked like it would snap. "You are my masterpiece. Every death, every piece of magic thrust on you and in you has honed your meat sack into a suitable host for me. You chose this as much as I did." He then ran his scythe along my cheekbone. Griz ran her forked tongue along the other. "I'm going to take my time and enjoy this," he said as he pressed the line against my neck.

"Sorry," a voice said, filling the empty air. "I came as fast as I could."

Kato.

Somehow, he'd come for me. My soul felt light, and the tar grew less sticky, sliding off me.

Morte eased off some of the pressure and looked up. "I'm sorry, but the office of death will be closed indefinitely, so I'm afraid you'll have to help yourself." He turned his otherworldly, white eyes to me, squinting at the ink sloughing off my skin. He looked at Kato again and threw his head back with a guttural sound. "No. I forbid it! You can't bring her back to life again. I've spent far too long preparing this girl. She chose to die; that makes her mine."

"That's where you are wrong. I didn't have to bring her back to life because, technically, I got to her before her heart stopped beating," Kato said, stepping close enough for me to see his front paws muted and gray. And not a claw left on either of them.

"What have you done?" Morte released me and stalked over to Kato.

The rest of the tar slid off me, my soul growing lighter to the point of turning to mist. Griz fell right through me as I began to rise. "Nononononono," I bellowed as I clawed and flailed, trying to hold on to something. I reached for Kato, but my hand slipped through him.

Kato looked up at me and smiled. "May your embers burn ever bright, hearth sister."

"No! I didn't ask you to trade places with me." As I floated farther away, I stared at the last nail that he sacrificed to make my heart keep beating, knowing it would silence his. "Oh Grimm, why?"

The shadows lurched at Kato, encircling his muzzle to keep him from speaking. The warmth in his wintery-blue eyes was the only answer I would ever have as inky tendrils swirled and pulled his body to the ground, covering him like a death shroud. Kato's gaze stayed locked with mine until the last moment.

As I faded away from the underworld, I relived one of Dorthea's memories. A dream she'd told me about. Except some of the details were different.

I stared into the mirror. Dorthea stared back at me. She looked sickly pale, hair falling out in patches, and she was dressed in a long, white robe. She held a leather-bound book with gold leafing. After opening the book, she ripped out a page.

Before I could grab it, the wind kicked up and stole the page from my fingertips.

I chased after it and screamed my frustration into the sky.

The sky screamed back.

Kato crested the hill of wildflowers, but he wasn't the kind-eyed chimera anymore. He was a black beast that could have swallowed Sherwood Forest whole. He reared back and roared again.

The trees shook in fear.

As my soul snapped back into my body, the vision shifted to reality.

A roar shook the very ground beneath me. I scrambled and clawed clear of the stain my shadow had left behind in the sand. I b.u.mped into Blanc's feet. The ice Kato had magically trapped her with had melted, so she stood in a small puddle, tinged red from the blood dripping from the wound I'd given her.

"Congratulations," she said, ripping the trident out of her side. "It seems he loved you after all." With a flick of her finger, Blanc called forth a riptide, dragging me back into the water. I searched the hills for help, but all my friends were lying on the ground inside the circle of dead gra.s.s. Unconscious or, worse, drained from the curse. Blanc's creatures were scattered around the sh.o.r.e as well as some of the other patients from the inst.i.tute, who had come out to see what was going on.

They were all in danger. Morte was coming. I called out to warn them, but my screams were garbled by the waters that closed around me. I couldn't drown, but the liquid held me like a prison.

A twin-tailed black chimera burst from the ground and into the air. His eyes and horns were white. He had no claws. "The king has returned." Morte's voice overlaid Kato's in soul-shattering discord.

"Don't put off tomorrow what you can do today. There's no better way to put a cramp in your inevitable domination than to leave an archnemesis around to witness it."

-Seven Habits of Highly Evil People.

36.

Aim True.

"You finally found a way out. Don't get used to it. I haven't forgiven you for keeping my sister trapped in the underworld." Blanc held one arm at her side and raised the trident in the other. Water columns shot into the air, wrapping around Morte's wings, pulling him to the ground.

I wondered why Blanc didn't just suck the life out of him, but she looked as if she was having trouble breathing herself. The gold collar around her neck tightened as she drew on its power. She dropped the trident and clawed at her neck. The water lost shape and began falling like rain.

"With most of your power still bound, we are at an impa.s.se, so I offer you a truce." Morte's dark, smooth voice came out of Kato's mouth. His pupils were white. It was Kato's body, but it wasn't Kato anymore. Only the Grimm Reaper. "Grizelda's soul was so shattered by the disenchantment the Girl of Emerald used that this"-he waved one of his tails, not Kato's dragon-scale tail, but the other twin tail that Morte had added, an enormous silver snake, snapping and hissing wildly-"was the only life I could offer your sister. I saved her from the ink forge and brought her with me as an offering. To you."

He circled around Blanc, letting the snake caress her cheek as he spoke in low, sultry tones. "Excalibur will soon be in my possession. Agree to rule with me, Blanc, I will free your binds and use my ink to turn this story's useless characters into an army of shadow souls to do our bidding."

My core shook as I pictured a living army of Forgotten at Blanc's and Morte's command. If the two joined forces, the world of Story would fall into a darkness that would make Nome Ore look like a cuddly enchanted forest. I argued helplessly, unheard, for Blanc not to listen to him, that his sword was a fake. Except Blanc didn't need my help to decide what to do with Morte.

She reached slowly to the shadow chimera to caress his face in return. "Never. I serve no one. I need no one." With a snap, she yanked his muzzle down, put her lips to his, and breathed in. Dark life flowed from Morte into Blanc, the water beneath her feet turning black.

I felt Dorthea regain consciousness at the same time I heard her.

"Kato!" The O dragged out into a wail filled with so much raw emotion it not only pierced my ears, but it also pierced my heart. It was the sound of someone's soul shattering. I knew, because that's the exact sound I would have made if I could have. I mourned Kato's choice doubly-for myself and for the pieces of Dorthea that lived within me.

Dorthea's cry made the water sorceress aware she had an audience. Blanc stalled her death kiss for a moment to sneer at Dorthea's pain. "I watched helpless from my cell as you murdered my only family," Blanc said. "Now I will return the favor."

Let it burn. Take it all. Make them bend.

The twisted chorus of voices in my mind was my only warning before Dorthea's entire body erupted into flames.

A phoenix would have looked like a single match compared to the blinding, green bonfire before me.

"Give him back," Dorthea cried in a voice not her own. Half-mad but all fury, she flicked her arm and a torrent of flames headed for Blanc.

The elemental witch raised her hands, the water coming to her aid and canceling out Dorthea's Emerald fire.

Blanc's neck wrinkled as the choker did its job, cutting off her air supply.

"Care to reconsider my offer?" Morte asked. He stood up, but his legs wobbled from the drain.

Blanc's pale face was turning blue, so she only nodded. Morte threw his body, Kato's body, in between Blanc and Dorthea.

"Dot, please. I love you. Save me," the black chimera said as the flames scorched his dragon's tail.

Dorthea clenched her fist, sealing the flame. I cried and cursed from my water prison, but she couldn't hear me. She only saw what she wanted to see: a glimmer of the real Kato. She ignored the empty gaze and the discordant voice because the words were what Dorthea wanted. She was so blinded by that, that she didn't see the silver snake tail striking until it knocked her across the field.

My watery prison burst as Blanc grabbed the trident and focused all her powers on Dorthea. "Finish her!" Blanc ordered her new ally.

Morte tsked derisively. "Your centuries locked away have not improved your temperament. Just as in the time of Lancelot and Arthur, your actions are ruled by emotion. And that will be your downfall. Behold, the Girl of Emerald."

Dorthea's flames shot into the air, filling the sky like green, thunderous clouds-all while she was still unconscious. The other villains who had been watching the fight from the hill scattered and searched for cover.

"Without your full powers, defeating her at the height of her madness is dangerous and near impossible. Let us go and watch from a safe distance as the child destroys herself and all she loves. Surely that will satisfy your thirst for revenge." Morte swept his tail under Blanc and placed her on his back, ignoring her protests. "I will see you again, little hero. You are not free of me yet," he said to me before flying away with his empress.

Dorthea bolted upright. She opened her eyes, her stare blank and green.

We need power to take him back.

It was the curse chorus, but this time it came out of Dorthea's mouth. She shoved her hands into the dirt. For a moment, nothing happened. Then lines of fire surged along the ground, like a forest python weaving back and forth, hunting for prey. Everywhere the fire touched turned brown and lifeless. Everything it touched was sucked dry. Everyone it touched...

The first to feel Dorthea's fire were the troll brothers climbing under the bridge for cover. The power reached for a nearby tree but found a tastier snack. The trolls brayed as they burned. As their shrieks died down, their voices joined the chorus.

More. More like that.

Other villains I'd met at the inst.i.tute panicked and ran in every direction. But the Emerald curse hunted them down. Some of Blanc's creatures remained, fighting and picking off the weakened.

"Stop!" Verte called, jamming her staff into the ground. Dorthea's flames dimmed and flickered. "You must control the curse, not the other way around. I will not allow you to destroy yourself and the world along with you."

Dorthea tilted her head, like she was listening. The flames momentarily stopped pursuing the fleeing villains.

"Feed us," Dorthea said in the curse's chorus. As she twisted her hands, every tendril of flame aimed for Verte.

"No!" I cried, warning Verte.

She looked at me and nodded. Her emerald belt winked as the flames covered it.

I closed my eyes. I couldn't watch.

Now, the chorus said. My eyes snapped open at the sound. A new voice had taken the lead. Verte's.

Dorthea stood rigid, her arms flung wide, creating an arc of fire that left me untouched. Her face was lined with bulging veins of green, but her eyes-they were normal. And they stared at me, wide with a look that wrenched at my heart and spoke volumes of horror and agony through our bond. Her mouth said only one thing: "Kill me."

I shook, my body rejecting the request. There was no way. As tight as the connection was now, we were practically the same person. Stopping Dorthea would mean sacrificing myself too. And Kato would have died for nothing. And there would be no one left to stop Blanc and Morte.

The brief respite in Dorthea's storm pa.s.sed as her eyes shifted green again and the arc of power ensnared me. The curse again tore away at my life and my sanity. This is how it ends, I despaired. Not with a scream but with the whispering of a thousand voices. Calling for me to join them.

All is one and one is all.

Join us. Feed us.

Bring us more.

There is no hope. No savior. No end.

"No time to waste!" Verte's voice shouted, taking the dominant position in the chorus. "You must free her. Break the curse."

"How?" I struggled to answer. "I have no magic, no sword. I am not hero. I am just me."

"How do you know you aren't enough?" Verte said, her voice blowing through me and waning like the tail end of a forest breeze. Then her presence was gone.

Mordred charged at Dorthea but was knocked back by a flaming shield Dorthea crafted twisting just her fingers.

"That will not work, fool," Oz chided, wrapping his arms around Dorthea from behind. He was unaffected by the curse but struggled to hold her in place. "Only the grail can save her now. The ink is thicker than blood, as the pen is mightier than the sword."

"It is hopeless," Mordred moaned, holding a melted ax in one hand and the grail in the other. "I cannot..."

Girl of Emerald, no man can tame, the curse taunted.

Well, I was not a man. And I had an idea.

"Be true to your word," I called to Mordred and held my hand out for the grail. He hesitated only the barest of seconds, which was good because Oz could only keep the curse's attention off me for so long.