The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 2 (34 page)

September 1, 1875

Little time to write. Should have known. Should have known. I want to get to Harriet and hold her in my arms just one more time, but it’s too dangerous. Briar … not sure where Briar is. He went to the library to stow away the pen, just like we planned. Usually, he can find me easy enough, especially when I’m in trouble.

But what if he can’t anymore?

September 2, 1875

He’s still following me. That same short little man in the gray suit that I met so, so many years ago. The Hessian is with him, following him like a faithful dog. No doubt getting paid a pretty penny … or is it revenge he wants? The little man is a Corrupted. I didn’t realize it ten years ago but I know now. He knows I don’t have the pen. Library’s shut down, locked up, even though it’s the middle of the day. No one can tell me why the doors are locked. Briar … don’t know where he is.

Just want to see Harriet one more time. But I can’t. Can’t endanger her life. This little man in the gray suit … it’s like he’s been following me for ten years. He knew exactly where I’d be. He knows—

(Pages missing.)

Chapter 1

I slipped through the front door of Chase’s house, creeping along his family’s vegetable garden and then skulking behind a man-sized evergreen sapling for cover. My fingers tingled. With the coast clear, I slipped around back, one hand pressed against the brick foundation as I very carefully peered around the next corner, my hand clutching the magic foil I’d drawn on the ground underneath the house’s front steps.

And there they were. Three guys wearing pitch-black robes with the hoods drawn up over their heads. They’d broken the window and I suddenly had a terrible thought: what if one had already slipped through?

But then they began very carefully using their terrifying golden claw thingies to scrape away the shards of glass still clinging to the window. They were being careful, not particularly interested in cutting themselves in the process of climbing through.

None of them was glowing. Not even a bit. If these were the same ones who’d been in the car that followed us back from the pier, then there was a good chance they were all human. Which meant unless I wanted to commit murder, I would have to get creative in dealing with them.

I turned back around the corner of the house, pulling out my pen. I set down my foil and used the pen to draw a big square in the grass. Then I drew another square a few feet away, overlapping the original square. I connected the corners with straight lines. It was just like the 3-D box doodles I always made in my notebooks, only with the help of my imagination this was no simple 3-D box.

It was a trap.

I ran around the box, back to the corner of the house, peering around. Two of the robed men were in the process of lifting up the third to the window.

“Eep!” I exclaimed.

The men turned. I waited, giving them the most convincing look of surprise that I possibly could. They dropped the one who’d been ready to slip in through the window, letting him land comically on his butt. They reached for their golden claw-shaped weapons that they’d set on the grass, slipping each one over their hands.

“Are you guys looking for me?” I asked innocently. They moved closer. “I’ll take that as a yes!” I said, disappearing around the corner. I jumped over the massive trap. The outline was only slightly glowing now, fading with each passing breath.
Hurry
, I thought.

The robed men turned the corner. They stepped onto the trap and suddenly the surface hardened, then collapsed. Two of the men fell inside immediately. The third man’s foot hit the edge of the box and he flailed a moment before falling inside as well.

I stepped closer to the trap, peering inside. There they were, a good eight feet below. Unharmed. A little angry, though.

“Silly weird robed guys! Didn’t you know who you were messing with?”

“We do now,” muttered one of them.

“I’m going to have to ask for your weapons,” I announced in a low voice. “And please, no shouting or yelling. You don’t want to wake the neighbors. They have a tendency to call the police when they notice creepazoids hiding in pits.”

One of the men’s hoods had fallen back; sure enough, he was nothing more than a middle-aged man. No glowing skin, although in the moonlight it was clear he could have used a little moisturizer from time to time. He had thinning hair and wide, dark eyes.

“To relinquish the golden claws is to relinquish our very
existence
,” he said.

I shrugged. “Then you’re stuck down there until the police arrive.”

The other two men pulled themselves to their feet, pulling off their hoods and wiping dirt off their robes. The box was a tight fit—they jockeyed for breathing room, searching the dirt walls for a way out.

“No way but up,” I said. “And you’re not getting up here with those very
fancy
claws of yours.”

The balding man—obviously their leader—flashed his most fearsome snarl. “The dragon’s claw is as much a part of us as our own fingers, you fool.”

“Dude!” I exclaimed. “I just saw you guys take them off so you could climb in the window.”

The three robed figures mumbled amongst themselves. The other two were younger-looking. Shorter, too.

“If we relinquish our claws, what guarantee do we have you’ll honor your bargain?” asked the balding leader.

“You don’t have any guarantee,” I said.

They mumbled amongst themselves again. I sighed.

“Guys, seriously. I’m going to call the police. Do you really want to be here when they show up?”

More mumbling. I was beginning to think I’d overestimated my enemies.

“All right,” said the leader, removing the golden claws from his hands. He tossed them out of the hole, onto the grass beside my feet. The other two men followed suit.

I picked up the creepy claw-looking things, examining one of them. I used my finger to pick away at a little chip, surprised when it flaked off. “Hey, these aren’t made of gold. It’s just metal that’s been spray-painted!”

“The gold has been promised to us by the master,” said the leader. “When the dragon awakens.”

“Wonderful.” I tossed all of the claws into the rose garden beside Chase’s house. “Now your robes, please.”

“What?!” The leader’s graying eyebrows shot up so high I thought they might both go airborne. “You said … you said …”

“What, are you naked under those or something?” I asked, hands on hips.

“I am,” said the youngest of the three. “Well, I have underwear but it’s laundry day so the underwear has some holes in it.”

I groaned. “
Boys
! I swear, it’s like you have an allergy to buying new clothes.”

“What is the purpose of this?” asked the leader. “Really! You’ve won. You’ve disarmed us. We’re harmless. Embarrassing us won’t change things.”

“Not for you,” I said. “But it would make me feel soooo much better to know you don’t have any hidden knives or other dragon-inspired weapons. I
know
I’m being a little paranoid here, but I’m just trying to be safe. And since you guys probably aren’t going to write a check for the window you broke …”

They tossed up their robes. Sure enough, they’d chosen to wear nothing underneath but their underwear. I understood why when I pinched the fabric of the robe between my fingers. “These are, like, really nice robes!” I said, whistling low. “I mean, really,
really
nice. I bet this is totally cozy in the wintertime.”

“Oh, you can’t beat it,” said the young one. He was very daintily covering his man-nipples with one arm. “The wool does wonders for staving off the cold.”

“Silence.”

I looked up, stepping back. The toe of my shoe found my saber and slipped underneath the blade, kicking it up. I grabbed it in mid-air, pointing it at the dark robed figure standing in front of the bushes that divided Chase’s house from the neighboring property.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The figure moved closer. He was still a good fifteen feet away, but it didn’t stop a cold feeling from running through my body. My muscles tensed, as if expecting him to close the distance between us and strike before I was ready.

“Who
are
you?” I asked again. The men stuck in my trap had gone eerily silent. I positioned myself behind the opening. If the mysterious figure
did
plan an attack, he would need to jump over it to reach me … or run around it, giving me an extra precious second to react.

He moved closer. He was wearing a black robe just like the others, only he was taller, and red velvet trim adorned the edges of his robe. With the light shining through the windows next door, I could see the intricate golden pattern embroidered onto the trim.

Claws.

And how much do you want to bet they were dragon claws?

“My name is Agnim,” said the figure. He raised his head a bit revealing two eyes, glowing a soft gold, deep inside the darkness of his hood. A Corrupted. I was sure of it. The rest of his face was hidden but the eyes were enough. He moved closer, and I realized why my body was so tense:
his feet weren’t touching the ground
. He was hovering over the grass, his robe trailing behind him.

“Very clever trick,” I said. “What story are you from?”

He chuckled. His laugh came out wet and throaty. It reminded me of my grandpa’s laugh—a lifetime of cigarettes and all he got out of it were bad lungs. “In due time, hero.” He glanced down at the trap. “Clever. Most clever. Or perhaps my minions are simply foolish.”

“Oh we’re in so much trouble,” whispered one of the trapped guys. The other two hushed him quickly.

“No matter,” said the mysterious Agnim. “They’ve served their purpose.”

“And what was their purpose?” I asked. “To act like dummies? To break a window?”

A quiet, animal-like growl escaped the darkness under his hood.

I fought the urge to switch the saber into my left hand. My right hand was sweating something fierce. Not a good spot to show weakness, Goodenough. Especially not with a Corrupted like this. There was something about him I couldn’t quite place, as if I instinctively
knew
what he was capable of. Somewhere, deep down, I knew Agnim was dangerous. Different, somehow, from the others I’d faced.

“The purpose was to reveal the hero,” he said. He stood still as a statue, his hands hidden in his sleeves. “I have seen you in my visions, but your face has always been hidden. Protected, perhaps. But now … nothing can stop the Awakening. The Order of the Golden Dragon will finally see its plans through.”

Somewhere above us, an owl called out. Agnim glanced up, searching for the sound. Now I caught a glimpse of his chin as it jutted out of the darkness underneath the hood. The skin was green, flaky, a few dark black hairs poking out.

“The owl hunts like no other,” said Agnim, taking a deep raspy breath. “He slips through the sky in complete silence, the serrated edges of his flight feathers muting his attack. He consumes his prey whole, regurgitating what he cannot digest.”

“Stop. Please. You’re making me hungry.”

He looked at me. Definitely
not
amused. And there came that uneasy feeling again.

“So now you know I’m the hero,” I said. “Good for you. And I get it, I totally do! I can see why you probably want me dead. But I swear, if you try to hurt my friends …”

The owl’s call stopped. Agnim the Mage cut me off. “I have no intention of hurting your friends, so long as they
stay out of my way
.”

“Oh, good. A nice Corrupted for once.” I stepped into a wide stance, holding my saber in front of me. “Let’s do this then.”

But Agnim simply shook his hooded head. “Tonight, I want only to give you a gift.”

His hand slipped out from the sleeve of the robe. My leg muscles tensed. I had to fight the urge to run. His green, rotted fist unclenched, revealing a small coin. He flicked it at me. Rather than embarrass myself by trying to catch it, I let it fall by my feet. I didn’t need to examine it closely to know what it was.

The dragon was recognizable enough.

“When you destroyed the fiddler,” Agnim said, “you did not bother to search his dwelling. Had you done so, you would have found this.”

My heart skipped a beat. The fiddler … “You’ve been following me since then?”

“We were only informed that the fiddler was dead. He was a member of our order. Not a particularly
good
member …” He glanced down into the pit, where the three fellow robed guys were huddling together. “Then again, it seems our order has no shortage of fools.”

“Why are you giving me this?” I asked.

“Because now you have three,” he answered sharply. “The fiddler and the stepmother and the captain make three. Three gold coins, just as I have seen in my visions. You will find a fourth coin. When you do, we will meet again.”

“Why?” I asked. “What’s so important about my having four coins?”

“There is a reckoning coming, hero. The time is drawing nigh. When you collect the fourth coin it will signal the Awakening of the Golden Dragon. This dragon will consume everything in its path, including your precious friends.”

“Are you sure we can’t fight now?” I asked, taking a careful step around the trap. “I have the sudden urge to kill you.”

“Enough,” he said sharply, holding out one hand. With a flick of his wrist an invisible force knocked me backward. I landed in the rose garden beside Chase’s house, the thorns painfully digging into my back.

“What was that,” I whispered, keeping my saber in front of me. Agnim had barely moved, but it was clear whatever magic he’d used on me had taken its toll on him, too: his breathing came fast and his shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

“You will know more soon enough,” said the magician. He stepped back, away from the light shining through the neighbor’s window. Back into the shadows where he looked much more comfortable. “And when the dragon wakes, nothing will stop us.”

He took one more step back and then—surprise, surprise—melted away into the darkness.