“I am quite convinced that there is no doubt whatever that the events here described really took place, however unbelievable and incomprehensible they might appear at first sight,” Axel continued reading. “And I am further convinced that they must always remain to some extent incomprehensible, although continuing research in psychology and natural sciences may, in years to come, give logical explanations of such strange happenings which, at present, neither scientists nor the secret police can understand.”

“Is that true?” Fable said with eyes wide open.

“Need I read more?” Axel said. “In this rare version, the author confesses that the novel is almost-true, only altered in certain places to protect the characters somehow. I bet this is the same reason the Brothers Grimm forged their tales. Maybe they were protecting some, the Lost Seven for instance. This is almost typical of Shew’s story. Everything you read in the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves fairy tale is partially true, but in an eluding way so the secrets stay hidden but the real characters can read between the lines.”

“You are talking about novels with imaginary characters being true all over the world,” Fable considered. “Does that mean I cam meet the real Mr.Darcy?”

“Why not?” Axel shook his shoulders. “The novels we read everyday, turned to be fabrications of reality. There is even more. Listen to this: In the Dracula novel, Abraham Van Helsing claims that his wife went insane after their son’s death.”

“Babushka isn’t insane,” Fable said.

“All ghosts are insane to me,” Axel said. “But that’s not the point. Abraham later explained that his wife was dead to him. Remember, the novel must have been forged, so this was a subtle indication of Loki’s ghost mother.”

“But Loki isn’t dead,” Fable said.

“No, he actually was,” Axel said. “He was shadowed by the Council of Heaven, which is how the council executed a Dreamhunter. That’s dead to me. Charmwill brought Loki back from the dead, unshadowing him, to give him a second life, remember?”

“I’m still not so sure about this, Axel,” Fable scratch he head and sighed. “But if Loki is Van Helsing’s son, what does that contribute to the story?”

“I’m not sure either,” Axel shrugged, “but I don’t think I’ll ever look at the world the same again. The next things I know you could be Gretel.”

Fable gazed back at the purple light. Something about the light made her look at it repeatedly. Her desire to pass through it was increasing each moment they spent in the Schloss. The purple light was messing with her head. She had decided not to try to save Loki by using her dangerous spell because she didn’t know his True Name anyways.

Now that she knew his True Name—if Axel’s theory was right—, she wasn’t sure. The purple light was calling her, and she wanted to enter the Dream Temple and save Loki more than anything now.

If only she could figure out what her brother had deleted from Loki’s phone?

Fable let Axel continue on rambling about his theories, but she wasn’t really listening. That purple’s light effect was too imminent to neglect.

What was going on with her?

Suddenly, Fable began feeling dizzy. She rubbed her head and balanced herself, but almost fell past the purple light.

“Fable?” Axel wasn’t sure what was happening. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she stuttered. “It’s like…”

“Like what? Answer me.”

“It’s like Déjà vu or something,” Fable’s eyes throbbed. “I feel as if I’m seeing something from another world,” she began choking and shivering. “I feel something bad is going to happen.”

“To who?” Axel asked, holding her tight. “To Loki? To Shew?”

Fable tried not to look into her brothers eyes. What she felt was scary and it didn’t make sense to her. She swallowed hard and told him what the feeling told her, “I feel something bad is going to happen to me.”

23

A Grimm Girl

Shew and Cerené watched as the local’s horses escaped the dark Huntsmen in Furry Tell.

Loki had been walking among the children for a while as if looking for something. He pulled each one by the hair and stared into their eyes the way the other huntsmen did before.

Her eyes were focused on Loki Van Helsing. She’d always known who he really was so Cerené’s remark didn’t surprise her at all. Shew was told that Frederich Van Helsing had been her father’s most trusted physician, and that he’d been present the night she was born. Was Frederich another Dreamhunter who sympathized with vampires? She had no idea what his relation with Abraham or Loki was exactly. She was only sure that Abraham Van Helsing, Loki’s father, was a Dreamhunter who was once banned for loving Loki’s mother, a demon.

“You remember when I was about to tell you a funny story at the Candy House before Baba Yaga showed up? The one about how Furry Tell’s name came to be?” Cerené said.

“What’s that?” Shew said absently.

“Furry Tell is actually another way of saying Fairy Tale,” Cerené explained. “I know it’s crazy but there is a secret language called ‘Anguish’. It’s said that someone created it to communicate with a woman he was prohibited to love. To speak the language you say words that sound alike but have different meanings. I don’t know who invented it but he is said to be from Furry Tell.”

“That sounds like a fun language,” Shew said, mildly interested. Having a chat with Cerené while Loki was about to kill one of the children wasn’t the best thing to do. She was hoping Loki was only looking for the children with ‘winter in their eyes.’ She supposed he should leave the other children be and ride away.

“It’s a fun language,” Cerené said. “For example, you know that rhyme ‘Mary Had a Little Lamp’?”

She nodded. She wished Cerené would stop talking.

“In Anguish language it would be called: “Marry hatter ladle limb,” Cerené giggled.

“What?” Shew said.  She thought she noticed someone she knew amidst the children below, but she wasn’t sure.

“Itch fleas worse widest snore,” Cerené giggled again. “It means: whose fleece was white as snow.”

She ignored Cerené, squinting to see who the children were.

“So the whole rhyme in Anguish Language would be:  Marry hatter ladle limb, Itch fleas worse widest snore. An ever-wear debt Marry win Door limb worse shorter gore,” Cerené couldn’t stop laughing.

“Cerené!” Shew hissed, and raised a silencing finger toward her. It was rather irritating how Cerené had been acting since they’d reached Rainbow’s End. A bit childish, Shew thought.

Cerené shrugged and tried to see what Shew was climbing down the hill for. She had no choice but follow her, trying to be quiet.

Down in the village, Loki came upon another boy he thought was worth sparing.

“Winter in his eyes,” he said as he set him free—Shew could hardly believe this was Loki’s voice; calm and confident without the slightest hint of compassion.

The huntsmen took the boy and ushered him to a carriage that had just arrived. It was the Queen’s pumpkin carriage. The spared boys were going to be transported to the castle.

“Why are the children with ‘winter in their eyes’ going to the castle?” Shew muttered.

“Maybe it’s ‘glinter in their eyes’, not ‘winter’,” Cerené suggested.

“Is that even a word?” Shew sneaked toward one of the horses that had fled Furry Tell. The horse didn’t move, unafraid of her. She had always been good with horses. It was one of the few advantages of  imprisonment in the castle. She was allowed to ride white horses around the castle at night while huntsmen circled her so she would not escape. Angel had been her personal teacher when he was around.

“I don’t know,” Cerené shook her shoulders. “I don’t go to school, you know. I just clean it. Maybe it’s some kind of Anguish Language like I just told you.”