The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 2 (43 page)

Chapter 12

I crept quietly around the exterior of the movie theater. The Century Theater. It was the only old theater left on the south side of Milwaukee. I could remember as a child, my parents took me there to see a cartoon filled with wizards and ponies. It was a terrifying place, all old-timey, with dim red lanterns that hung from the ceiling in the lobby and lots of shadows near the staircase that led upstairs to the bathrooms and the balcony. Abandoned for years, it was the perfect place for a crazy wizard.

I huddled behind a dumpster and using my magic pen to draw a saber into the concrete parking lot. I pulled it away, then scanned the dark alley for any unwanted company. It was empty.

The clouds above emitted a low growl. A warning.

I hurried to the emergency exit door, using my pen to draw an opening. I quietly pulled back the square of metal and crawled through.

I was at the front of the old theater. To my left was the massive old screen that looked so damaged that it could hardly show movies anymore. In front of the screen was a stage, about shoulder height. Above me was the intricately decorated ceiling, lined with old Chinese dragon sculptures that guarded the corners of the massive theater, their gold paint peeled away in places. Lights hiding behind dark red wall sconces bathed the entire theater in a blood-red glow. To my right were the old plush seats.

Empty.

I walked up the aisle, through the doors in the rear of the building. Inside the lobby. Memories came flooding back. V-shaped glass sconces adorned the walls where old wallpaper was peeling away. The concession stand was empty, its glass case devoid of Chuckles and Sno-Caps and other treats I had as a child. The red carpeting, old and worn, muffled my footsteps.

To my left was the grand staircase, its brass railing lined with dust. The staircase led to darkness, just as I remembered it as a child. There were bathrooms up there, along with plenty of shadows. Creepy, dark shadows created by dim lights and north-facing windows that were typically covered by thick red curtains. I could remember as a little girl, I always needed someone to come with me up those stairs so I could use the bathroom. I was too afraid.

A clanging noise echoed behind me. I walked back into the theater, searching the empty seats. I reached the stage, feeling my shoes adhere to the hard, sticky carpeting. Another noise came from behind me. I turned, sword held out defensively.

Sitting in the seats were men. Dozens of them, clad in black robes, each with a golden dragon pendant around their necks, hoods drawn low to hide their faces.

“Alice.”

The voice came from the far end of the seats, near the door that led to the lobby. In the dim lighting I could barely see him, but I recognized the voice.

“Agnim!” I called out. “Let’s do this. You and me, buddy!”

A great cackling laughter echoed through the large space, bouncing off the decorative soundproof walls. Agnim floated halfway down the aisle, then stopped.

“No,” he said finally. “I think I should like to see my minions destroy you instead.”

They all stood as one. They were scattered in the rows of seats, but when they stood I could see something was wrong. There were no men inside the robes. They were just ghosts filling out the robes, the hoods drawn over their invisible heads just in the same way Agnim wore his. No hands protruded from the sleeves. No feet—they simply floated over the seats.

Right toward me.

I clutched my saber, opening up my stance, using the corner of my vision to take in the details of the setting. Beyond the stage in front of the screen was a little pit where there used to be a piano. Beyond that was another emergency exit, stage-left.

“Right,” I said. “Higher ground it is.”

I climbed the little stage, kicking wildly at the first cloaked apparitions to reach me. My foot connected with one of them and it touched only fabric, but the moment it did a terrible coldness hit me, as if I’d stepped onto snow with bare feet.

Agnim’s laugh echoed through the theater. “Why are you running, Alice? Kill my minions! They’re nothing to you!”

“I’m getting there,” I hissed, taking a step back on the stage and letting my eyes adjust to the dim ambient lighting that was coming from the small bulbs near the ceiling. The cloaked specters were swarming the stage now, climbing over one another in a mad attempt to get at me.

I swung my saber, cutting through the robes of the nearest two as they climbed onto the stage. The fabric of the robes burst apart.

“Kill them all, Alice!” Agnim said with a demonic cackle.

I stepped back, watching more of them climb onto the stage. I swung my sword in a wide arc, sidestepping as I did so, spinning, slicing again. Six more of the robed specters fell apart.

“More, Alice! More!” Agnim called out in a booming voice. The sound of thunder outside penetrated the thick walls of the theater.

I swung again, then stabbed wildly. More of them climbed onto the stage. I stepped back, then leapt forward and swung again and again, cutting the robes apart.

There was only one left. One specter standing between me and Agnim. It floated onto the stage right in front of me and I stepped forward, stabbing. The sweaty grip of my saber slipped in my hand as the blade hit something solid. My heart stopped.

The robe didn’t flake away like the others. Instead, it doubled over onto my blade. There came a groan from underneath the hood.

Blood spilled onto the stage, soaking into the old wooden boards.

“No!” I screamed, stepping back.

The specter fell over. The hood fell back. Underneath it was a man’s face. A middle-aged man stared up at me, gasping and clutching desperately at the saber in his chest. He went still.

“That’s impossible!” I could feel my entire body breaking down. My legs quivered. Bile rode its way up my throat. An intense electrical numbness ran through my body, as if I’d been struck by lightning.

Agnim disappeared like a flash of lightning. One blink of my eyes later, his icy hands wrapped around my shoulders. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. My inner voice screamed at me to fight back.

But I couldn’t move. My eyes were drawn to the dead body in front of me. Who had he been?
What have I done?

My body lifted from the ground. Agnim held me in place, pushing down on my shoulders. My saber disappeared.

“Ahhhh,” Agnim said. “Here, finally, is what I’ve been searching for.”

A spotlight appeared on the dead body.

“Tomorrow night,” Agnim whispered, his cold words bouncing off my neck, “you will come for me. And I will make you break your rule of nonviolence. You will
kill
my minions or they will kill you.”

“No,” I whispered.

“
Yesssssss
.” His nails dug into my shoulders, squeezing. I felt entranced, unable to move. “Tomorrow night, you will learn a terrible secret about the human race. For my minions are not cursed. They are not under my control. They are nothing more than greedy men who are never satisfied no matter how much gold they receive. They will unleash the dogs of war for just a few more ounces of gold. They will
kill
their own brothers for it. And
you
will kill
them
to get to me.”

“No. No!”

Agnim released me. I began floating upward, high above the stage. Something sharp and painful gripped my shoulders. I looked up and screamed. The white spotted owl was clutching me in its talons, glaring down, its dark horn-shaped eyebrows bent down in a hungry scowl. We flew through the ceiling, and the owl flapped its wings harder, carrying us up above the roof of the building. Raindrops pelted my face. Above us, lightning flashed across the sky. Below us, the rooftop grew smaller and smaller.

Agnim’s voice whispered in my ears: “You will kill my minions … and then the Golden Dragon will awaken!”

Chapter 13

“I will teach him well. Come back when a year is over, and then if you recognize your son, I will take no payment at all for teaching him; but if you don't know him, you must give me two hundred thalers.”
[vii]

I woke to the sound of my alarm, my sweaty palms gripping the sheets of my bed. My mouth was dry and tasted faintly of bile. My eyes had trouble focusing. Reality seemed to be fleeting, as if the dream world was replacing it.

“Good morning,” Briar said cheerfully, smacking his lips and stretching out on the floor. “Was it an
informative
night’s sleep?”

“Oh yeah.” I got up and wandered into the bathroom, drinking a tall glass of cold water, staring at my haggard reflection. The bags under my eyes were new. So was the fresh crop of zits breaking out on my cheeks. Stress zits. Agnim was going to pay for that.

And I was going to prove him wrong. Somehow.

“So?” Briar asked when I returned. He obediently turned around as I went for the closet.

I changed into a pair of black stretch pants and a violet t-shirt. The last clean clothes. “The theater is bigger than I remember. It’s huge, actually. Lots of old seats. There’s a stage. There’s a backstage, too, from what I could see. The screen is damaged. Um … the floors are sticky.”

Briar sighed. “I take it you were distracted.”

I nodded. A tear slipped out of my eye. “Briar, those robed men … Agnim’s minions … they’re just
human beings
. They’ll
kill
me if I don’t kill
them
.”

Briar hopped over to the window, tucking one paw in the pocket of his trousers. “I’ve often said that the difference between humans and Corrupted is humans can
choose
to be good or bad. Some, unfortunately, choose to be bad.”

“Well, I’m choosing to be good,” I said. “No matter what happens tonight, I won’t let Agnim break me. And if that freaking owl shows up, I swear I’m going to yank all its tail feathers out.”

Briar’s ears perked up. “Owl? What owl?”

“The owl that’s always in my dreams,” I said.

“And of course you didn’t mention this,” Briar said agitatedly. He flipped open my laptop, opening Wikipedia.

“Briar,” I said, running a hand on the puffed-out fur between his ears. “Why, you’re positively
upset
with me!”

Briar grumbled something unintelligible. “How about we focus on this owl?”

“White, with black spots and mostly black wings.” I sat down on the bed and closed my eyes, thinking back. “Bright, big yellow eyes. Big black eyebrows, like a V, that jut out like horns. Big, too.”

“Something like this?” Briar asked, turning the laptop. I stared at the picture and shivered. The owl looked like it was staring right at me with those two big yellow eyes, ready to silently release from its perch and cut through the air like a ninja, catching me unawares.

“That’s the one.”

“This,” Briar said, “cannot be the one. Because it is a bird found mostly in South Africa.”

“No, this is it,” I said, pointing at the screen. “This is the owl. This … this is
Agnim
.”

“A shape shifter!” Briar exclaimed, opening the top drawer of the desk. He pulled out our trusty
Grimms’ Fairy Tales
book, searching through it. “Here,” he said, tapping his paw on page 147. 

“
The Thief and His Master
,” I read.

“The thief trains with a master,” Briar said, “and ends up outwitting him by changing into an animal.”

“Agnim is the thief,” I said. “He fell in love with the maid from the story, then accidentally killed her. He couldn’t control his magical powers as the Corruption grew inside him.”

Briar’s ears straightened. “And now?”

“Now … now his magic is even more powerful.”

At school, I went through the motions. In U.S. History, we gave our group speech and presented our poster to the class. We definitely had the most “colorful” poster thanks to Brad’s drawing skills.

I barely kept my eyes open.

The big moment I’d been expecting all day came after lunch. I was ready to skip the library and head home, putting in two hours of sleep before I headed over to Chase’s house to plan the attack. But before I could do any of that, I needed to make a stop in the little girls’ room.

I never thought Joey Harrington would follow me in
there
.

His reflection betrayed him—the mirrors above the sinks gave me a perfect view over my shoulder as I walked in. He was right behind me, lurking like a total creepazoid.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, spinning around. My voice echoed in the empty bathroom. There was no one roaming the halls—classes had already started. Somewhere, a teacher was taking attendance, passing over Joey’s name and thinking nothing of it.

“I’m going to dip your head in the toilet,” Joey said simply, kicking the bathroom door shut.

My hand reached for the leather strap in my back pocket. I kept it there, stepping away from the sinks so I could have enough room to maneuver.

“You’re going to regret this,” I told him.

He laughed. He was doing a great impression of a Corrupted, that was for sure. “Girl, I
own
this school. Don’t you get that?”

“That explains why you think you’re allowed in the girls’ bathroom.” I smiled. “Or maybe this is where you
always
use the bathroom.”

That got his temperature boiling. Classic meathead, totally worried about his masculinity. It wasn’t even that good of an insult, for crying out loud! But that didn’t matter. I’d insulted Joey’s
manliness
, and now the time for talk was over. He came at me, only instead of grabbing for me like I expected, he tightened one hand in a fist and swung!

I ducked out of the way, keeping my hand on the leather strap in my back pocket. “Woah, Joey! You tried to punch me! Even
you
can’t get away with that.”

“Let’s try,” he snarled.

He charged me again, only this time he reached out with both hands to grab me. It was just what I was waiting for. I sidestepped, pulling the leather strap from my pocket and whipping it around Joey’s right wrist. I tugged hard, tightening its grip, and pressed one foot firmly on the back of his right knee. His leg buckled. I helped him to the tiled floor, pressing my shoulder hard into his back.

He swore at me, but I had him pinned pretty good, with my knee between his shoulder blades and my weight to keep him down.

“What are you doing?” he asked, adding a variety of curses that I’d rather not repeat.

“This,” I held the strap in front of his face, using it to wiggle his arm around with ease, “I call a
strapper
. See how it wrapped around your wrist?” I held it closer. “Little hooks and fabric. It’s Velcro! Isn’t that totally
ingenious
?”

Joey released another string of foul words.

“Velcro is made of tiny hooks on one side and tiny loops on the other. The creator got the idea when a bunch of little burrs stuck to his dog’s fur. It’s amazing history! You should really read up on it.” I reached out for his right foot, ignoring his other flailing arm, and tied the other end of the leather strap around his ankle. I used a constrictor knot, one of the toughest knots out there. “Come to think of it, you should try reading
anything
. Exercise your mind a bit.”

More curse words!

“OK,” I said, standing up. I watched Joey flop around like a fish out water, trying to reach for the knot with his free hand. He looked like a fool, with his right hand and right foot tied together behind his back. Good, I thought.

“You’re a lunatic, Goodenough!”

“You’re a bully, Harrington. And you can’t beat me.” I walked to the door, then stopped. “Enjoy your afternoon.”

Back home, I spent an hour lying on my soft bed with my eyes closed. I was exhausted, but sleep wouldn’t come. Agnim had taken it away from me.

At Chase’s house, I laid out the plan. Then I laid it out again because Chase was having a serious problem about being left out.

Briar? Not so much.

“Look,” I said. “It’s crazy enough that Seth is coming along. But he’s the only one who can do what needs to be done.”

“You mean he’s the only one of the two of us who can walk,” Chase said, frowning. “I can still help. There’s gotta be something I can do.”

I shook my head. “Even if you weren’t in a wheelchair, I still wouldn’t let you come. This isn’t a game, all right?”

“I get that.”

“No, you don’t,” I said, maybe a little too harshly. “Look, Seth has seen what really happens with these things. And this is going to be even more dangerous than before.”

“Trust her,” Seth said, double-checking the magic bow. He set it on the table, next to a handful of store-bought arrows. “Alice goes very in-death with her plans.”

“In-
depth
,” Briar corrected.

“Oh. Yeah.” Seth shrugged. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to if you ask me.”

“But you don’t even know what this dragon is,” Chase said to me. “How are you going to know how to beat it?”

“That’s a good point,” Seth said. “I mean, that’s a really, really good point.”

“There’s no time,” I said. “The Golden Dragon wakes tonight. We need to get over there and kill it—whatever it is.”

Chase shook his head. “It just sounds risky. Back me up, rabbit.”

Briar tapped his foot on the floor. It made a heavy thumping sound. “There’s no doubt in my mind that Agnim has the upper hand.”

“You mean upper paw,” Seth said, elbowing Briar in the ribs.

Briar hopped back, chuckling. “Yes, well. However you might phrase it, Agnim clearly is ensuring that Alice plays by his rules.”

“I hate this. I absolutely hate this.” Chase pounded a fist on his armrest. “Why can’t you call the police?”

“We’re dealing with a wizard, dude,” Seth answered. “And his dragon. If we try to tell the cops we’ll all end up in the loony bin.”

“What’s that?” Chase asked, pointing to my necklace. “You don’t wear a necklace.”

“I do when I’m hunting Corrupted,” I said, tucking the magical vial under the collar of my shirt. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Aren’t you even the
least
bit curious how that vial refilled itself after the last time it was used by the angry dwarf?” Seth asked.

“I try not to ask too many questions about this stuff,” I answered. “The answers just lead to more questions. All I know is the last hero wanted me to keep this vial handy, so that’s what I’m doing.”

Chase looked up at Briar. “You’re OK with her plan?”

“Er …” Briar shifted uncomfortably. “To date, I don’t believe I’ve been OK with
any
of Alice’s plans. But they
do
seem to have an incredible success rate.”

“But you don’t know how to stop Agnim!” Chase exclaimed. He sighed, slumping into his chair.

I had no response. I had no idea how I was going to defeat Agnim. And that was exactly what Agnim wanted. He’d drained me for days, testing my mental toughness, probing my dreams for a weakness. Now he had it.

“Come on,” I said to Seth.

“Alice …”

I stopped at the front door, turning back to Chase.

“Just … be careful,” he said.

“I promise.”

We were quiet for most of the drive into Milwaukee, listening to an old Nirvana CD. Seth kept the heat on and I was thankful, positioning my clammy hands in front of the vents.

“The Century,” Seth said, shaking his head as he took the freeway exit to Kinnickinnic Avenue, which would take us through the trendy south side of Milwaukee and right to the theater. “Who would have thought in a million years that a dragon would rise from the ashes of a historic theater that went out of business half a decade ago?”

“Agnim,” I answered.

“Oooooh. Right.”

We passed the tall building on our right. Seth turned on the next street, pulling into the alley between two old houses surrounded by pine trees. He parked next to the green dumpster that I’d so vividly seen in my dream last night. It was almost as if Agnim
wanted
us to park here.

As if he wanted the dream to play out exactly.

“OK,” Seth said, turning off the engine. “This is it.”

“You have your gun?” I asked softly, staring down at my black athletic shoes.

“Yup.”

I wiped my hands on my black pants. Black pants, tight black long-sleeved shirt, black headband to keep my hair out of my face. “Are you sure you know how to
shoot
your gun?”