The Grimm Chronicles, Vol.1 (19 page)

“Who?” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Lina and Fundevogel.”

“What?!” Gilbert exclaimed, wiping feverishly at the snot coming out of his bulbous nose. “They’re supposed to be our protectors!”

“I know that!” Flick yelled. My, but he had a quick temper. His face reddened, too. Cherry-red. Almost so bright it looked like it was
glowing
. “That’s why I sent them! They’re not going to screw around like that idiot Frog Prince!”

“The siblings,” I whispered. Panic set in. I had to warn Alice now before it was too late. The siblings! I tried backing up, but felt the fur on my arm pull back. Oh for the love of all that was wonderful in life, I was stuck! My fur was stuck right where two pieces of the metal vent were screwed together!

“Calm yourself, brother,” said Sam. He held up his hands. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. But in the future, it would be nice if you extended the same courtesy you expect of dear Gilbert: keep us informed. Rash decisions are costly when dealing with business acquisitions
and
heroes.”

Flick grumbled something under his breath.

“Mr. Grayle,” came a voice through the phone on the desk. “Mr. Robertson is here to say hello.”

Sam reached over the desk and pushed one of the buttons on his phone. “Send him up, Pam. Thank you so much.”

“Who’s that?” Gilbert asked.

“Just another local businessman looking to suck up to us.” Sam reached out and straightened Flick’s suit coat.

“Oh stop that,” Flick said, slapping away his brother’s hands. I chuckled a little bit, watching them act so foolish. “I’m not a child, damn it!”

I tugged again on my arm. The fur tugged back. Oh, how could it have gotten so stuck? I must have been pushing my weight on the vent—it was supposed to transport air, not rabbits after all. I pressed down on the sheet of metal, trying to dislodge my fur. No dice!

“Don’t act like a child and I won’t treat you like one,” Sam said. He turned and pointed to Gilbert. “And you, get behind my desk. Don’t shake Mr. Robertson’s hand. Don’t go anywhere near him. The last thing he needs are all the diseases lurking under your skin.”

I’d seen enough. With my free hand, I reached into my pocket. Surely I had one more trick up my sleeve—a scissors, perhaps? But I had nothing. Nothing to get me out of this one!

The office door opened. Mr. Robertson walked in. He was a tall man with a balding head and a respectable pinstriped black suit. He was smiling and extending his hand before he’d even made it halfway across the room. He ignored Flick entirely—which only made the dwarf’s face turn a brighter red—as he approached Sam.

“Welcome to Milwaukee, Mr. Grayle!” he exclaimed. “Boy, I tell ya: it is great to have you here. How do you like your new digs?”

“Hm? Oh, the building.” Sam shook the man’s hand, then promptly let go. “Well, it’s quite nice. Could use a little redecorating.”

Mr. Robertson nodded, wrinkling his nose. “Got a smell to it, too. Or is that you?” He laughed and gave Sam a slap on the shoulder that nearly sent the dwarf to the floor. “I’m just kidding with ya!”

“No, that’s quite funny,” Sam said, straightening his coat. “Now that you mention it, I do smell that, too.”

“Probably some dead animal in the central air ducts,” Flick grumbled.

I tugged again at my fur. It was hopeless. I would have to do the unthinkable to get out of this mess. The sooner the better. I just needed to do it. One quick pull, just like ripping away a bandage. Oh, who was I kidding? I was too chicken to do it!

Mr. Robertson turned to Flick. “Ah, the other successful Mr. Grayle! How is the … what do you call it? The app business?”

“Phone games,” Flick corrected him.

“Do they sell well?”

Flick snorted. “Depends on what you mean by
well
. Our
Castle Cats
game sells forty thousand a day. Is that
well
, Mr. Robertson?”

He nodded, whistling. “Boy oh boy, you guys are rolling along. You’re a bunch of little firebrands. I mean big firebrands. Sorry! Didn’t mean it like that.”

“Didn’t you?” Sam asked. Behind Mr. Robertson, Flick very gingerly walked over to the bookcase. He opened the cabinet near the base.

“No, no,” Mr. Robertson said. “Just a slip of the tongue. We’re so glad you guys are here. The business community in this town sticks together. We’ve got to. Everyone’s always picking on us. Especially us bankers.”

“We’re a dastardly bunch,” Sam said.

Mr. Robertson laughed. Behind him, Flick reached into the cabinet … and pulled out a rusty pickaxe!

“Oh dear me,” I whispered, pulling again at my fur. I had to get out of here. I had to warn Alice. And I couldn’t bear to see what was about to happen. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s blood.

“Oh, we’re not so bad,” Mr. Robertson said. “We just do what needs to be done. And if that means kicking a few bums out of their homes, well, so be it.”

Flick crept closer. He raised the pickaxe over his head. I nearly cried out a warning, but at the last moment, Sam gave a quick shake of his head. Flick, obliging, lowered the pickaxe and returned it to the cabinet.

“You disagree?” Mr. Robertson asked.

“No, no,” Sam said. “Far from it. Greed drives our society, Mr. Robertson. People who don’t understand that will be crushed by the heel of our shoes and society will be better off without them.”

Now! I wrenched my arm free, biting my tongue to stifle the cry of pain. I was free! I slowly backed away from the vent, staring longingly at the patch of fur that remained. Oh, sweet fur. I already miss you. I just wouldn’t look the same until it grew back.

But there was no time to dally! I returned to the hall, not bothering to put the vent grate back into place. I opened the door to the staircase and hopped down each flight, ignoring the steps. Steps would only slow me down! I needed to hurry now. Every second counted.

Inside the parking structure, I looked around wildly for a solution. The old gears were grinding, I tell you! Think, Briar, think … you’ve been in tighter spots than this and come out just fine. Hoofing back into the sewer was the absolute last resort. I needed something quicker.

Then I saw her: a sweet middle-aged woman stepping out of the elevators on the other end of the dark structure, her high heels tapping on the concrete. She was all alone. In the dim light, I could see her face was lit up: she was using her phone, holding it in her hands in the way teenagers sometimes do when they text.

Well! The only question now was whether I should stay invisible or not. What would potentially be worse: a floating phone or a giant rabbit coming out of nowhere, grabbing it?

I chose the latter. I know, I know, a floating phone probably would have been good for a laugh, but this was serious business. There’s a time and place for pranks, gosh darn it.

I snuck up behind her just as she was opening her car door.

“Oh, you are so annoying,” she said to the phone.

I jumped out of nowhere and snatched it from her little hands. She turned in surprise and screamed.

“Sorry!” I said, spinning and running away while simultaneously trying to exit from the game she’d been playing.
Castle Cats
! What were the odds? Worse, what were the odds that the little “X” to close the game would be the size of a pinhead? Of course it was a touch screen. Of
course
it wasn’t rabbit-friendly.

“Come on!” I said, slapping the phone with my clumsy paw. Finally, the game closed, but not before Grayle Gaming thanked me for playing.

Behind me, the woman was still screaming. I felt awful for doing it, but I needed to get a message to Alice. I used the tip of my paw to type in her number, then started putting in the first word tapping on the little keyboard with the tip of a nail.

Whump!

“Oof!” I said, falling forward. My paw hit “Send” and a little envelope animation danced around on the screen, then disappeared.

Whump!

“Madam!” I said, shielding myself from the woman’s purse. She hit me again. And again. And again! “Madam, please!”

“That’s a two hundred dollar phone!” she shouted, swinging her bag wildly at me. I swear she had a brick in there.

“I just needed to make a call!” I said, trying to deflect the blows with my paws. Lordy, I’ve ducked arrows and bullets and cannonballs in my time, but this woman was a new beast entirely.

She whapped me again. “Your mask isn’t even scary! Security is probably on its way right now, too!”

“Here! Here, take it back!” I tossed the phone up toward the ceiling. The woman stopped hitting me and held out her hands, staring up at the phone as it began its descent.

By the time she caught it, I was long gone.

And the message was sent.

Chapter 8: Alice

Lina said to Fundevogel, "Never leave me, and I will never leave thee." Fundevogel said, "Neither now, nor ever." Then said Lina, "Do thou become a rose-tree, and I the rose upon it." When the three servants came to the forest, nothing was there but a rose-tree and one rose on it, but the children were nowhere.
[ix]

I lasted two sections of the aquarium with my parents before calling it a day. And quite frankly, I think that’s pretty good for an 18-year-old. We saw some colorful fish from the tropics, we moved into the section full of underwater critters from the Great Lakes, and at that point I couldn’t quite stand to listen to my parents exclaim “Well, now there’s something you don’t see every day!” for a thousandth time. Plus, they were doing this thing they do where they told each other jokes that only they found funny. They just kept doing it again and again with every new fish they saw. After a while, I kind of wanted to kill them.

The Shedd Aquarium is a big place. I figured it could keep my parents occupied for at least two more hours while I went over to Cindy’s neighborhood and did a little sniffing around. I already had a plan: “Oh, hey, I’ll just meet you guys back at the hotel. I want to do some shopping.” Pretty generic, I know. But it would work. I just had to figure out a good moment to lay it on them.

Just as soon as I stopped by the sea otter exhibit.

“I’m going to the oceanarium,” I said. “Hey Ma, wanna go see the whales?”

“Absolutely not,” she murmured. She was staring into a medium-sized tank holding Granddad, an ancient spotted Australian Lungfish thought to be nearly 100 years old. He wasn’t doing much, just sitting near the bottom of the tank staring off into space. Like most human granddads do, I suppose.

“Dad, how about you?” I asked. “They’ve got turtles …”

“No thanks,” he said. “We had enough turtles while you were growing up. I’ve had my fill. In fact, if I ever have to bury another dead turtle again, I might just lose my mind.”

The aquarium was divided into sections that split off from the main area, which consisted of a massive saltwater tank. I made my way around the massive tank where a dozen or so sharks and other funny-looking fish were swimming around lazily. Kids had their faces pressed against the thick glass, their little fingers pointing out all the colorful underwater plants. I stopped to admire the scene. I remembered coming here as a kid with my parents. I remembered them being much less annoying back then.

But that was the magic of being a teenager, I guess. “Gawd,” I muttered as I made my way through the doors on the other side of the tank leading to the oceanarium amphitheatre. I was being too hard on them. It wasn’t their fault they were annoying—they were just being themselves. I was getting sick of their craziness but I had no right to. Look at it this way: I’d asked them to take me to Chicago and they’d said yes without batting an eyelash. That was the sign of great parents.

“OK, so I’ll buy them both a Chicago-style hot dog,” I said. The amphitheatre was a wide-open hall with a few zoo-style exhibits near the front doors. The concrete path wound around a bend and opened up in front of a massive pool of bright blue water where the dolphins did their show. Beyond the pool was a row of big windows overlooking Lake Michigan. On the other side of the pool were the benches where families sat and cheered on the dolphins. The benches were arranged stadium-style so everyone could see. I could remember all of this even though I couldn’t see it when I walked in through the doors. My memories of this aquarium were strong. I was glad to have them, too.

I stopped where the path began bending toward the dolphin pool. To my right was the best exhibit in the world: the sea otters. There were six of them taking turns in their little tank of water, and the glass of the exhibit went all the way to the ground so you could see them underwater as well as above when they emerged to sit on the rocks. They jumped into the water, scratched their bellies, and generally gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

“Oh, now aren’t these cute!” came my mother’s voice.

I turned to see Mom and Dad walking toward me.

“I thought you guys were going to check out the Amazon exhibit,” I said.

Dad shrugged. “Been there, done that. It’s really not all that interesting.”

“You know why they do this?” Mom asked, pointing to the cute little stuffed animal currently swimming and scratching his belly. “It’s to get little air bubbles in their fur to keep them warm.”

“That’s … actually pretty interesting,” I said.

Mom nodded toward the bend in the path. “Let’s go see if the dolphins are around.”

“Actually, I was thinking of doing a little shopping this afternoon …”

“Just one loop around the oceanarium and we’ll go,” Dad said.

I sighed. “The sign on the door said the next show was in two hours. There’s not going to be anything over there. They don’t just leave the dolphins in the pool, for crying out loud.”

“Says you,” Mom said.

“Oh, don’t start getting all trendy with your catchphrases,” I muttered, annoyed. “Says you” was totally something I would say to my friends. Who did she think she was?

We passed the next tank, which was larger than the sea otter exhibit and home to two beautiful white beluga whales who looked like they were smiling. I glanced at them, and for once, my parents didn’t have any snide comments to make.

Which was kinda weird, actually.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my little hand purse and glanced at the screen: a text message from an unknown number.

“What is it?” Dad asked behind me, sounding concerned. There was a scream that echoed down the path. I glanced up from my phone. Ahead, two young parents dragged their screaming toddler around the bend in the path.

“We have to pass the whales to leave!” the father shouted.

“No! They’re scary!” said the kid, bawling. “I wanna see the dolphins again!”

“The dolphins are gone,” the father said with a grimace.

I stepped aside to give them a wide berth, then opened the curious text message. It had one word:

Shapeshifters

My heart went cold. I put my phone in my purse and glanced at my parents. They were staring at the screaming kid with a mixture of annoyance and outright hostility: Dad’s eyes were narrowed and his lips pursed. Mom was no better: she was downright
glaring
at the little tyke.

That wasn’t like my parents. My parents always thought screaming toddlers were cute. Screaming toddlers reminded them of a young version of me.

“I wasn’t like that, right?” I asked them.

Dad turned away from the toddler. He
looked
like my dad, even right down to the stray eyebrow hair that was growing wildly out of control. “No, of course not. You were Daddy’s little angel. Now let’s go take a look at the dolphins.”

I turned my head, watching the beluga whales glide back and forth through the water. “It’s neat how they move so easily, isn’t it, Mom?” I asked.

“Hmmm?” She glanced at the whales. “Oh, yes. Lovely creatures.”

My mom didn’t like whales. In fact, she downright hated them. I don’t know what it was about her and me and hating certain animals, but we were alike in that way. She hated whales and I hated lions. She loved sharks and I loved tigers. It must have been genetic.

“What about the sea turtles?” I asked, walking backwards to the next display. I didn’t want to turn my back on them. I could feel sweat gathering in my armpits. My entire body felt tense. They
looked
like my parents. The warning had to be from Briar … but maybe he meant someone else.

Dad walked arm-in-arm with Mom to the next exhibit, divided from the beluga tank by a handful of big brown rocks held together with concrete. The sea turtles’ tank had lots of little stuff floating in the water. The turtles were swimming lazily near the glass, staring out at us with their creepy little eyes. Their awkward little flippers pushed them through the water despite the massive dark green shells. They knew how to use those flippers, that was for sure.

“I suppose turtles are nice,” Dad said. “I’m much more excited about the dolphins, though.”

“Do you think we could get one for a pet?” I asked with a smile. “I mean, like, a regular turtle. Not a sea turtle.”

“Sure, sure,” Dad said with a grin. “But only if you pay for the cage.”

My heart thumped in my chest. That was all I needed to know.

“Yeah. OK. So … the dolphins.” I forced my body to turn even though every instinct was telling me to run. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and found the fountain pen. The warm feeling it gave off soothed me just a bit. Maybe there will be some people already getting seats for the next dolphin show, I thought.

Yeah. The dolphin show that didn’t start for two hours. And maybe there’d be a pot of gold waiting for me, too.

Shapeshifters … shapeshifters …

Of course! The two kids from the fairy tale about the old woman who wants to make them into stew. Lina and Fundevogel tricked their would-be captors by turning into different objects. Now
they
were the would-be captors … and
I
would have to trick them.

But how?

As we reached the bend (and a little penguin exhibit), it seemed as if the entire massive oceanarium had gone silent. Like, the entire place. No splashing coming from the sea otter exhibit. No blowhole clearing by the beluga whales. Just silence. Beyond the penguin exhibit, the path sloped downward and split up, leading to the fifty or so concrete benches arranged stadium-style in front of the big pool.

There were no dolphins. There was no one. Just an empty theatre.

I stopped. My parents’ shoes kept crunching on the concrete path as they closed the distance between us. I pulled my hands out of my pocket, listening. Patience, Alice. Take a deep breath.

The crunching grew louder. They were taking slow, deliberate steps.

Now!

I spun, raising my fist high and connecting it with my dad’s chin. Crack! My knuckles stung, and as he staggered back I had a terrible thought: what if I’d just made a huge mistake?!

But then he turned back to me and I saw it: right where I’d hit him, his skin was glowing. “That was unwise,” he said.

“Quite,” said my mom, eyes narrowed.

They looked around once, and then their forms began to change just like in a movie. Their hair changed. Their faces readjusted into something sleeker and younger. I recognized them. They were the two young people we had met downtown!

“I should have known,” I said with a wry smile. “Corrupted always dress awful.”

That seemed to take them aback. Good! If they were here to kill me, the least I could do is levy a few snide comments their way.

“I’ll have you know we’re quite fashionable,” said the young man, tossing back his short hair. Fundevogel, that was his name.

“Yeah, for a nineteenth-century carriage driver,” I muttered. I pulled the fountain pen from my pocket, popping off the cap with my thumb. It landed on the ground, rolling toward the edge of the massive pool. “Before I kill you,” I said to Fundevogel, “please be so kind as to remind me where I dropped my pen cap. I don’t want to lose it.”

He smiled, glancing at his sister. They both laughed. “Do you think you can kill us with
that
?” Lina asked in a raspy voice. She held out one hand. Slowly, her fingers began to elongate. The tips sharpened into a point. “We can turn ourselves into anything.
Anything
.”

“We followed you all day,” said Fundevogel. “We were sidewalks. We were garbage cans. We were tour guides. We were disgusting little children picking their noses.”

“We were fossils glued to the wall,” Lina continued. She snorted. “A lot of good that did us, though. We were sure you would stop at the dinosaur exhibit. It’s a wonderful exhibit.”

“Been there, done that.” I looked around. The place was still empty. “I’ll shout for help.”

“Go ahead,” Lina said. “Do you think we didn’t plan ahead?” She glanced at her brother, smiling. “The director of the aquarium just so happened to stop by a few moments ago and reserved this place for the next hour. Something about a snap inspection, if I do recall.”

“Oh yes,” Fundevogel said, nodding vigorously. “I heard it myself. All of the staff of the oceanarium heard it. He was quite explicit, Heh, heh, heh.”

I stepped back cautiously, moving my way to the other end of the pool. They followed me slowly, grinning from ear to ear. Literally. Their mouths had lengthened and when their lips parted, my parents’ nice straight teeth had been replaced with sharp fangs. This had bad news written all over it.

“Did you hurt my parents?” I asked, keeping the pen in front of me like a little knife.

Fundevogel laughed. “I sort of got the feeling you were getting a little annoyed by them. Wouldn’t killing them be doing you a favor?”

Anger flushed my face red. “You’d better not have touched a hair on their bodies.”

Lina stepped forward quickly, laughing when I flinched. “I
knew
you were the hero. Fundevogel didn’t believe it. He said there was no way the hero wouldn’t have seen through our disguises. The hero is always smarter than that, he said. But I could just smell it on you. It’s a rotten stink.”