Witchy Tales: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fairy Tale Page 13

  I laughed. It felt good after the past few hours of worry. “I thought Landon was going to be the prince,” I said, climbing from his lap. “When I realized that wasn’t the case, I decided to get away from Reginald by any means necessary.”

  “I heard your plan,” Landon said, smiling as he stood and dusted off the seat of his jeans. “I especially liked the part where you told him you were unbearable for three days out of every month.”

  I smirked. “Sadly, that didn’t seem to turn him off.”

  “I wonder if he’s still cuddling your shoe.”

  “Speaking of shoes,” Clove said, glancing down. “How are you going to walk without shoes?”

  That was a really good question. “Maybe I should just sit here and wait for some horrible fairy tale creature to come and eat me.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Landon said. “You can have my shoes.”

  “Your shoes are too big,” I said. “Thank you for the offer, though. Let’s start walking. Maybe my feet won’t get sore because this isn’t real.”

  “I think that’s wishful thinking,” Clove said.

  “We’ll have to see,” I said. “We can’t stay, and I don’t know how to get out of this dress.” I kicked the second glass slipper off. “I think Clove would have enjoyed this story a lot more than I did. I don’t know why I got it.”

  “Probably because you hate it,” Thistle said, falling into step behind me with Marcus at her side.

  “Probably.”

  “Just for curiosity’s sake, how were you going to get away from the prince once you found out it wasn’t Landon?” Clove asked.

  I chuckled. “I was going to kick him in his special place,” I said, slipping my hand in Landon’s. “Not that I’m not happy for the assist, but I would have been fine on my own. I’m pretty sure I didn’t need to be rescued.”

  The moment the words left my mouth my skin started to tingle. A white mist swirled around me, and when it dissipated the heavy monstrosity of a dress was gone and my jeans, T-shirt and tennis shoes were back in place.

  “There’s my girl,” Landon said, pushing my flyaway hair out of my face. “What did you say that ended the spell?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  “I think it was the part about you not needing to be rescued,” Thistle said. “Aunt Tillie always said that was the problem with princesses. They never did anything on their own because they were always waiting for a man to come save them.”

  That made sense. “Well … whatever it was … I’m just glad to be back in my regular clothes.”

  “Me, too,” Landon said. “Although, to be fair, that dress made me want to pick you up and carry you. I can’t explain it.”

  “I think it was the hero complex colliding with the helpless princess syndrome,” I said.

  “I think it was because he missed you,” Thistle teased.

  “Leave him alone, Thistle,” I warned. “It’s been a long night.”

  “No, she’s right,” Landon said. “I missed my princess.” He leaned over and gave me a soft kiss. “No more separations. I don’t like it.”

  I couldn’t help but agree. “Let’s keep moving. How many stories can possibly be left?”

  That was probably the wrong question to ask. I’m fairly sure I jinxed us.

  “HOW long do you think we’ve been here?” Clove asked, her voice drained.

  We’d left the palace behind us more than an hour before. Since night was everlasting, time ceased having meaning.

  “I have no idea,” Landon said, tightening his arm around my waist as we walked. I was so exhausted I’d taken to resting my head against his shoulder. If sleep while also being awake was possible, I’d totally be able to do it right about now.

  “Does anyone remember the other stories in the book?” I asked.

  “We haven’t done Wonderland yet,” Thistle replied. “Or Beauty and the Beast. Or whatever the one that features Aladdin is.”

  “That’s disheartening,” Landon said. “I was hoping we had one left. Two at the most.”

  “Something tells me we’re going to have to play out more than just the yellow brick road in Oz, too,” Thistle said.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  My gaze fixed on something to the right of the road, my mind playing tricks on me as I tried to decide what it was. I was so enraptured with the vision I didn’t notice that everyone else ceased walking.

  “What the … ?”

  “Where did the brick road go?” Marcus asked, confused.

  “It just ends,” Clove said. “Does that mean we’re done with the story?”

  “I doubt we’re that lucky,” Sam said.

  “What do you think, Bay?”

  I heard them talking, but I was having trouble focusing given the majestic sight taking form in the field next to us. The overlarge moon was bouncing off each glorious green inch of it.

  “Bay?” Landon tightened his grip on my hip.

  “I think we’re done with the brick road,” I said, continuing to stare.

  “What makes you say that?”

  I nodded my chin toward the thousand-foot-tall beanstalk sprouting across the way. “That.”

  “Oh, no way,” Thistle said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I guess we forgot that story, too.”

  Landon growled. It was an actual growl. If he was a wolf we’d have to put him down before he ate us. “I just … there are no words.”

  “Are we supposed to climb that?” Clove asked, mystified.

  “I’m not climbing that,” Thistle said, shifting her eyes to me. “Don’t even think for a second I’m climbing that! There’s nothing you can do to make me climb that. Get it out of your head right now. I’m not going to do it.”

  “I CAN’T believe I’m actually doing this,” Thistle complained, glancing down at the rapidly diminishing ground as she climbed from one leaf to another. “Tell me again why all of us are doing this instead of just two of us?”

  “Because if only two of us did this then you and Marcus would have been the ones who had to do it,” I replied, nonplussed.

  “How do you figure?”

  “I had to be Cinderella.”

  “I had to kick an ogre in the … knee,” Thistle shot back.

  “Knock it off,” Landon ordered. He was in the lead, and it had been his idea for all of us to climb together. “We all agreed that it was best for the group to go together. No more splitting up.”

  “Plus, what happens if the next story starts wherever we land up there? Then some of us would be separated at the bottom of the beanstalk and we might never see each other again,” I said.

  “I can deal with that reasoning,” Thistle said. “I still hate climbing.”

  “It’s not so bad,” I said. “The leaves are arranged like a spiral staircase.”

  “An elevator would clearly be better.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “How much farther?”

  “Yeah, are we there yet?” Thistle chimed in.

  Landon scowled, his joy at finding me unscathed evaporating with each step. “Can we stop the backseat climbing chatter?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “No,” Thistle said. “Are we there now?”

  “Don’t make me thump you, Thistle,” Landon ordered. “This is hell on all of us.”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “When we get to the top of this beanstalk, I swear … .”

  Everyone was quiet for a few minutes. Even though I knew it was probably the wrong move, I broke the silence. “Do you want me to add the beanstalk comment to your book of sayings ideas?”

  Landon sighed. “It couldn’t hurt.”

  It took us almost an hour to climb to the top of the beanstalk, and by the time we stepped off the seemingly endless leaves our legs were numb and our feet heavy. We fell to the ground, a spongy expanse of lush grass, panting.

  “It’s a good thing we all came up here together,” Th
istle said. “No one would climb back down that beanstalk and then back up again after making that trip. It would’ve been every couple for themselves.”

  “See, I was right,” Landon said, his hand patting the ground next to me until he found my hand.

  “You’re always right,” I said.

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “I don’t have the energy to patronize you,” I said. “Do you think we can take a nap here?”

  “Sure.”

  I closed my eyes, weariness overtaking me. “I just need a short nap.”

  “Me, too,” Landon said.

  When I mustered the energy to look to my other side I saw Thistle, Clove, Marcus and Sam were already asleep. I’m not sure how I did it, but fear of being separated from Landon during slumber was more overwhelming than the suffocating exhaustion. I shifted over until I could rest my head on his shoulder. Landon wrapped his arm around my back.

  “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  “I afraid you’ll be gone when I wake up. I don’t think we’re naturally falling asleep. This is part of the next story.”

  “I won’t be gone,” Landon said. “I’m too tired to go anywhere. I’ll be right here. Trust me.”

  “I trust you’ll try,” I said, my eyelids heavy. “The book has control of us. We all know that.”

  “The book has separated us enough,” Landon said. “We’ll be okay.”

  “I hope so.” I was barely awake.

  “I love you, Bay.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We slipped into slumber … and nothing ever felt better.

  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. No, it’s true. Looks aren’t everything. If a man has a hairy back, though, that’s a deal-breaker. Find out what his stance is on waxing his shoulders before you give up the goods. If you can braid a man’s back hair, there’s a problem.

  – Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up

  Fifteen

  I woke up to the feeling of grass poking into my cheek.

  “Landon?”

  I could hear bodies stirring around me.

  “Landon?”

  Even though sleep was trying to drag me back down I opened my eyes and focused on the spot next to me. It was empty. Landon was gone.

  I bolted to a sitting position, scanning the area in case he’d woken up and was looking around to see what fresh new fairy hell awaited us. He was nowhere in sight. “Landon!”

  My voice echoed across the open expanse of the castle courtyard. Yes, it seems we’d found a castle. This one was even more majestic than the palace.

  “What’s going on?” Thistle asked, rubbing her eyes wearily. “Where’s Landon?”

  “He’s gone,” I said, pushing myself to my feet and brushing the grass and dirt from my clothes. “I knew this was going to happen.” I tried to fight the tears pooling in my eyes.

  Thistle wrapped me in a brief hug. “It’s just another story.”

  “Why are we the ones who have been separated three times now?”

  “Because Aunt Tillie was really angry at Landon when she cast the curse,” Thistle said. “Look at it this way, I’m still the one who had to kiss a frog. It doesn’t get much worse than that.”

  “Thanks, honey,” Marcus deadpanned, joining us. “It’s going to be okay, Bay. I’m guessing we have to go into the castle and we’re going to find Landon there.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “That seems to be the obvious answer.”

  “Let’s get going then. I’m so tired of this.”

  “We all are,” Thistle said. “We all need to remember this feeling.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re going to need all this anger when we’re digging a grave to hide Aunt Tillie’s body,” Thistle replied.

  “You’re probably right.”

  We started moving warily toward the castle. While the castle was tall and proud, the outside was overgrown with dead vines and brambles.

  “I’m confused,” Clove said as we started climbing the stone stairs that led to the front of the castle. “Why did we all fall asleep?”

  “So the curse could separate us again,” I said.

  “I know I don’t remember everything about Aunt Tillie’s book, but wasn’t there supposed to be a giant at the top of the beanstalk?” Clove asked.

  That was a sobering thought. I scanned the open grounds again. There was nothing menacing – other than the bad gardening – to threaten us, though. “I think we would have seen a giant by now if one was here.”

  “Let’s not tempt fate,” Thistle said, pushing me forward. “Come on. Landon has to be in here somewhere. Let’s find him.”

  “When we do, I’m tying him to me,” I grumbled.

  “I’m sure he’ll love that.”

  It took three of us to push the heavy mahogany door open, and the silence that greeted us inside the great foyer was oppressive. The air inside felt stagnant with decay and neglect.

  “Well, this is disappointing,” Clove said. “Shouldn’t a castle be pretty?”

  “I think it’s pretty,” Thistle said. “It needs a good maid, but it’s pretty.” Her eyes brightened. “Get cleaning, Cinderella.”

  “Bite me,” I muttered.

  Five sets of footsteps echoed on the marble floors as we trudged onward. An elegant staircase was built into the wall on our right and a huge set of double doors beckoned at the far end of the hall. We were expecting a giant, but the castle design was meant for normal people.

  “What do you think?” Clove asked.

  “I think this place is huge, but it’s not made for a huge person.”

  “I mean what direction do you think we should go?”

  That was a pretty good question. “I think we should check the whole first floor before going upstairs,” I said, considering. “We might as well search in an orderly fashion.”

  “Are you channeling Landon?” Marcus asked, smiling softly. “He’d be proud.”

  “Don’t talk about him in the past tense,” I ordered.

  Marcus’ face drained of color. “I didn’t mean … .”

  “I know you didn’t,” I said. “Let’s find Landon. He somewhere in here … and he’s alone.”

  “He’s going to be fine,” Thistle said. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  “I know.”

  “If it’s any consolation, he was worried about you for the same reason when you were whisked away to be Cinderella,” Clove added.

  “I know,” I said. “It’s not a consolation, though.”

  “Come on,” Thistle said, taking the lead. “Let’s find the Fed. He’s probably swearing so much he’s making the fairy tale gods tremble.”

  That was a nice visual.

  When we got to the end of the room, Thistle grunted as she pushed the partially-ajar door open and introduced us to a whole new world. Unfortunately, it was a world none of ever wanted to see. The room was … alive. There was no other way to describe it.

  The furniture moved, the curtains danced and the cobwebs in the corner shook in rhythm with music only they could hear. The sound of the door opening stilled the activity, and as a broomstick, candlestick, chair and piano all turned to stare at me I had to swallow the scream that was bubbling up.

  “What are they?” It was the candlestick speaking.

  “They look like dolls,” the piano replied.

  “They’re pretty ugly dolls,” the broomstick said.

  “Aren’t all dolls ugly?” I wasn’t sure who made that comment, but it sounded as though it came from above.

  “Um … .”

  “Holy cow,” the candlestick said. “The dolls can talk!”

  “They’re freaking me out. We need to get them out of here before the master comes in and squashes them like bugs.”

  That sounded ominous. I cleared my throat. “Master?”

  “It’s talking again!”

  I rolled my shoulders, cracking my nec
k as I fought to contain my temper. “We’re not dolls. We’re … people!”

  “What’s a people?” the broomstick asked. “Does that mean you’re an alien?”

  “Sure.”

  “Where is your space ship?”

  “It’s parked outside,” I said. “We lost a member of our … landing party. If we could find him we’d be out of your hair … not that you have any hair.”

  “And out of your master’s hair,” Clove said. “What? Does anyone else not want to meet their master?”

  She wasn’t the only one thinking that very thing. “Can you point us toward our missing alien? We’d be very thankful.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “He looks like us,” I said. “He has black hair, and he’s tall and he’s very handsome.” I choked up slightly. “He’s all alone, and we’d really like to find him.”

  “There’s no one who looks like that here,” the candlestick said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sorry.”

  That was disconcerting.

  “Don’t worry, Bay. He’s here,” Marcus said. “We just have to find him.”

  “We should check upstairs,” Clove said. “I’ll bet that’s where he is.”

  “Oh, don’t go up there,” the broomstick warned. “That’s where the master is.”

  “I don’t think we have a lot of choice in the matter,” I said. “I … .”

  The door at the opposite end of the room opened and the figure standing there was horrific. It was tall and wide, arms too long for its body, and it didn’t appear to have a neck. Its face was terrible, overlarge teeth jutting out from its mouth. The brown fur covering its body was long and matted, and when it opened its mouth the only thing that came out was a terrible roar.

  “You must be the master,” I said, taking an inadvertent step back. “I … um … wow.”

  The creature roared again. It looked like Bigfoot on steroids.

  I held up my hand, which shook as I tried to act braver than I felt. “I’m really sorry to come into your home,” I said. “We’re looking for a friend. We need to find him. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as we do. I promise.”

  The creature shuffled closer, growling as it opened its menacing mouth. I took a step back. “I … I’m really sorry. We’re really sorry.”