Banished: Book 1 of The Grimm Laws (7 page)

Adele sat down and reached for the silver tray. She held it out to Elle. “Here, I want you to eat the white truffle. It will help you understand.”

Her heart was pounding so hard that it was making her dizzy. “Is it poison?” she squeaked.

Adele laughed. “Heavens no, child. Eat it,” she urged.

Elle reached for the truffle. Tentatively, she lifted it to her mouth.

“Go ahead, eat.”

She took a bite. It was magnificent! Even better than the hot chocolate. It was smooth and rich. She ate the rest in two bites.

“It’s good, yes?” Adele peered at her over the spectacles.

“It’s the best I’ve ever eaten.” She eyed the remaining truffle. “Do you want me to eat the milk chocolate one too?”

Adele chuckled. “Not yet, there’s something I want to show you first.” She arose from her chair and walked over to an oil painting depicting a mother and daughter. They were wearing medieval clothing. The mother was resting on a red velvet settee. She had one hand on her daughter’s shoulder and the other on her flaxen hair, as if she were caressing it. The painting had an ornate gold frame that looked antique and very expensive. “One of my favorites. You may recognize it.”

Elle looked at it. It was hard to make out the details from across the room, but something about the curve of the mother’s neck was familiar. A part of her felt as though she should know something about the painting. It was right there on the edge of her consciousness, but for the life of her, she couldn’t grasp it.

“It’s a portrait of Cinderella and her mother,” Adele explained. “It was painted a few months before Cinderella’s mother died.”

“Are you talking about the fairytale Cinderella?”

“Uh huh.”

Strange how she’d instinctively known the painting was of a mother and daughter.

Adele carefully removed the painting, revealing a safe with a combination lock. She opened it and retrieved an old book with leather binding. She walked back to where Elle was sitting and took her seat. She held the book out for Elle to see, all the while rubbing her hand over the rough surface. “Hello, old friend,” she said reverently.

Elle looked closely at it. “It almost looks …” She stopped, not wanting to give voice to the thoughts swirling in her head.

“It almost looks what?” Adele prompted.

“Like a face,” Elle admitted.

Adele gave her a broad smile that was tinged with hope. “You’re starting to see,” she said, excitement making her voice go husky. “Elle, I want you to meet an old friend … a dear friend … Bree.” She tapped the book with the tip of her finger.

Elle’s eyes widened. “Bree? You act as though the book is alive.” She paused. “Is it?”

“Lives can take on many forms, Elle. This one happens to be in the form of a book.”

Okay
… she was sorry she asked. “Why do you lock it in a safe? It’s not like it’s going to jump up and run off or something.”

Adele laughed. “Bree does have a stubborn streak, although I don’t think he would leave me, would you Bree?” Elle looked at the book. A part of her half-expected it to answer. Thankfully, it didn’t.

“There are those that would try and take Bree.” She looked over her shoulder and spoke in low tones. “Evil knows many faces. Beware of those you cannot trust. Those that would cause you harm.” She peered over her spectacles at Elle. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

A sense of foreboding lifted goose bumps on her arms, and she shivered involuntarily. “I think so,” Elle said slowly, even though she didn’t have a clue what Adele was talking about.

Adele waved a hand in the air. “You’ll understand soon enough, I suppose.” She positioned the book in her lap and leaned forward, eagerness shimmering in her eyes. “Are you ready?”

Elle nodded.

“Okay, here goes. Bree, what will you choose to show her? Bree will only show you that which you are ready to see,” Adele explained.

At a loss for words, Elle simply nodded.

She opened the first page, and a blast of cold air rushed though the room causing the fire to flicker. For an instant, Elle thought she heard a groan coming from the book.

“What was that?” Her eyes widened as she looked to Adele for an answer.

“Stop being dramatic, Bree.” Adele opened the book and turned to the first page. “Tell me what you see.”

Elle stared intently at the book. “I don’t see anything. It’s blank.”

The corners of Adele’s mouth turned down in a frown. “You don’t see anything?”

Elle shook her head.

“Bree, that’s enough!” she said sharply. “I tell you she’s ready. You need to trust me on this.” She turned to Elle. “I want you to close your eyes.”

“What?” The last thing she wanted to do was to close her eyes. At this point, she didn’t know what Adele had in mind, but it couldn’t be good.

“Trust me,” Adele said, a hint of exasperation coating her voice.

As if she had a choice. The door had slammed shut in her face and locked, and she’d walked back and sat down against her will. Who was she kidding? Adele was calling all of the shots. “Okay,” Elle huffed.

“I want you to relax. Focus on my voice. You will only focus on my voice. Nothing else. Clear your mind. Let all of the problems go. Let everything go. You are as light as a feather … floating. Think of the truffle and how it tasted in your mouth. Let it fill your senses.”

Elle was more relaxed … she was floating … there was a sunny field full of daisies, and she was running to something … someone …

“Open your eyes,” Adele instructed.

The room came into focus, and Elle was surprised that she’d been able to relax.

“Now look at the book,” Adele coaxed. “What do you see?” Her voice was calm—tranquil.

Elle looked at first the page. It was blank, but then something, a movement caught her eye.

“What do you see?”

“I see letters, a type of fancy script. It looks old.”

“And what do the letters say?”

Elle leaned forward and peered. “I can’t make them out. Wait a minute, I see pictures. Vivid, bright pictures.”

“Focus on the pictures,” Adele urged.

“I see a house. A big, beautiful stone house with lots of windows and a large wooden door. It looks like something out of a fairytale.” A feeling of nostalgia swept over her. The grass looked so green and inviting, and she could almost feel the sun on her face. “I see a road that runs up to the house,” Elle said excitedly. “There are horses!”

“Anything else?”

Elle stopped. “Yes, I see a girl. There’s a girl walking up the road, carrying …” She looked closer. “I believe she’s carrying two buckets full of red apples.”

“Go into the picture,” Adele urged. “Become one with it.”

“I see her face! She’s crying.”

“Why is she crying?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Why is she crying, Elle?”

“I don’t know!” Elle’s voice rose. Adele’s questions were becoming a nuisance. She was floating away from her—floating into the picture.

“Yes, you do, Elle. You know why she’s crying.”

A forgotten sorrow filled her breast, and suddenly she knew. “She’s crying because …” Her voice broke. “She’s crying because she misses her mother.”

“What is her name?” The voice was little more than a whisper in her mind. She focused instead on the way the warm breeze lifted the ends of her hair and tickled her nose. “The name. What is her name?” She was walking on the dusty road, the sour scent of apples pungent against the sweet smelling grass.

“Her name is Cinderella,” she breathed as she lost herself in the picture.

T
he apples were starting
to get heavy. Needing to rest, Cinderella placed them down in a grassy spot beside of the road and turned her attention to the white daisies that were growing wild in the field. A particular patch of daisies atop a gentle sloping hill caught her attention, and she left the apples and skipped over to them. She plucked a daisy and brought it to her nose. From a distance, looking out over the field, the daisies looked like fancy maidens wearing their finest caps. She rubbed a hand down the rough-spun frock that had faded to a dull brown. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like to have a soft, beautiful dress like the blue one her stepmother had sewn for Josselyn, but alas, she was but a mere servant, and fine clothes were only for the nobility. Despondency flooded over her until a flock of birds flying overhead caught her attention, and she raised her arms up to them and began twirling in a circle. She began humming a lullaby that her mother used to sing, but the words sank deep into her heart. She was unprepared for the hurt that washed over her. First her mother and then her father. It was nearly too much to bear. She fell to the ground and began weeping in long gulping sighs. No one understood how she felt. She was alone. If only she could make her stepmother love her. What she would give for an accepting smile or kind embrace. A thought came to her mind, causing her to wipe away the tears. Her stepmother had ordered her to go to the market to sell the apples. The last time she went to town, she was only able to sell one bucket. Seraphina had been sorely disappointed. Cinderella shuddered, remembering the way Seraphina’s mouth had turned down into a deep frown. “I’m sorry, Cinderella, but there isn’t enough broth for thee tonight,” she had said. “Unfortunately, when your father died, God rest his soul, he left us heavily in debt. Much like thee, he lacked the intelligence and good sense to make sound business decisions. It’s because of him that we’re nearly destitute, and it’s because of thee that we don’t have enough broth tonight.” Cinderella had gone to bed sick at heart, her stomach churning in hunger. She sat up. Today, she would sell all of the apples, and on this evening she would feast on warm broth and crusty bread. She would show Seraphina that she was worth something! In a small way, she could help make up for the mistakes her father had made.

She stood, dusted off her clothes, and began walking back to the apples. She heard the laughter before she saw them. She let out a cry of dismay and began running. The boys from the village had dumped out the apples. Two of them were stomping them flat and the other two were pelting them at each other. She ran in the midst of them and began flogging their arms. “Stop!” she shrieked. “Thou art ruining my apples!”

The largest of the boys pushed her to the ground. “Look at what we have here. The milk maiden is worried about her apples.”

Cinderella glared up at him. “Ye have no right!” Her eyes went to the ruined apples all bruised and smashed. She’d spent all morning gathering them. The sun was now high in the sky. There was no time to gather more and take them to the market. Her eyes filled with tears.

“The maiden is crying.” He made a sucking sound with his lips. “She needs her mama.” He gave one of her braids a cruel yank.

“Stop!” she cried.

He bent down and grabbed her shoulders. His putrid face was a fraction away from hers, so close that she could see the pores on his oily nose. His eyes took on a peculiar light. “Thou art pretty,” he sneered, “for a milk maid. How’s about giving me a kiss?”

Her nose crinkled in disgust. “You smell like a pig sty,” she said backing away. This brought chortles of laughter from the other boys.

His jaw tensed. “Filthy maid! Dost thou not understand to whom you speak? I am a squire in training. Any maiden would be honored to give me a kiss. That which ye do not give, I will take, and then I’ll rub thy face in cow dung for the insult!” Roughly, he pulled her to him. Panic overtook her, and she clawed him across the cheek, drawing blood. He let out a yelp and backed away, holding his face. When he looked at his hands and saw blood, his face turned purple. “I’ll teach thee …” He raised a fist, and she braced herself for the impact.

“Lucas, enough!”

She looked up. One of the boys had caught the brute’s fist and was holding him back.

“Leave her be. You’ve had your entertainment, and now it’s over!”

The brute turned on the boy. “Dost thou dare question me?” The brute stood a head taller than the boy and was about two sizes larger, but the boy remained undaunted. “Ye will leave her alone!” he said firmly, “or I will be forced to teach ye a lesson you’ll not soon forget.” The brute lunged at the boy, and they both went sprawling onto the ground where they rolled in the dirt, punching. After a moment, they got to their feet, breathing hard.

“Thou wouldst ruin a friendship over a worthless milk maid?” the brute said.

“No human being is worthless. She has given us no offense. We are the ones at fault. We destroyed her apples, and then you attempted to do far worse.”

The brute threw a punch, but the boy easily sidestepped it. He circled behind the brute and caught him in a chokehold, sending him to his knees.

“Dost thou yield?” the boy said.

The only sounds coming out of the brute’s mouth were gulping and grunting as he struggled in vain to get free.

“I’ll ask only once more. Dost thou yield?”

Gasps. “Yea!” came the strangled reply.

“By honor of the King, Give me thy word!”

“Yea, I give thee my word!”

He tightened the hold. “Swear it!”

“I swear!” he croaked.

He released him. The brute sat on the ground, gasping for breath and clutching his neck. He looked up at the boy, hatred burning in his eyes. “You will pay for this!”

The boy laughed. “Obviously.”

He turned to the other two boys. “Take Lucas back to the castle where he can nurse his wounds … err … pride.”

Cinderella watched in eerie fascination as they immediately complied with the order. She’d assumed that the brute, Lucas, was the one in charge, but she was mistaken.

The boys grabbed Lucas under his arms and helped him to his feet. As soon as he could stand, he pushed them away.

They started walking when one of the boys turned. “Rushton? Aren’t thou coming?”

He shook his head. “Nay, I’m going to try and right the wrong we’ve done to this good maiden.”

The boy shrugged and they continued walking away.

He turned, gave her a curt bow, and then held out his hand. “Allow me, Mi’ Lady.”

She scoffed and refused his hand. “I can manage on my own.” She got to her feet and shot him a hateful glare. “Thou and thy friends have already done enough!”

He seemed to duck a little beneath the tongue-lashing and had the decency to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Mi’ Lady. We were just having some fun, and it got out of control.”

“Yea, at my expense! My apples are ruined.” Angry tears filled her eyes as she started picking up the few apples that were salvageable.

“What were ye going to do with the apples?”

“Sell them. I was going to sell them, but thanks to thee and thy heathen companions that’s no longer possible!” There would be no going to the market and no apples sold, hence no supper.

She saw his expression soften. He reached into his tunic and pulled out a handful of coins. He held them out to her. “Here, take these for thy trouble.”

Her eyes widened. Two schillings? That was more than she could earn in a month selling apples. Seraphina would be so pleased. They would have enough to buy a chicken and some cheese to go along with the vegetables in the garden. She reached for the coins and then stopped. “I can’t take them. It’s too much.” The words cut as they came through her lips.

He placed the coins in her palm and clasped his hands around hers. “Take them.”

She was so unaccustomed to kindness that she couldn’t fathom that he would offer the coins wanting nothing in return. She eyed him suspiciously. “What dost thou want in exchange for the coins?”

“Thy friendship.” And then he smiled a smile so pure that it encapsulated the cloudless sky and everything else that was good and true on the earth. He bent down and plucked a daisy from the field and held it out to her. “Please accept this daisy as a token of my friendship, Maiden …

“Cinderella,” she inserted.

“Cinderella, wilt thou allow me to earn thy trust?” His eyes held hers, and she thought about how they were as blue as Suncrest Pond in the height of the summer. He gave her a crooked smile. “Please.”

He seemed genuinely sincere, and she needed a friend. How desperately she needed a friend! A smile played at the corners of her lips as she tentatively reached for the daisy. “I’ll think about it.”

He laughed. “Fair enough, Lady Cinderella, I can live with that.”

“
E
lle
, wake up, dear.”

The voice was coming from far away.

“Wake up, Elle.”

She opened her eyes. “Where am I?” She looked up to see Adele standing over her with a concerned expression. She sat up in the chair. “What happened?”

“You fell asleep. The fire was so nice and toasty that you dozed off.”

The fire. She jumped up as everything came tumbling back. “You started the fire with a flick of your hand, and then you opened the book. I went to another land. I was there. I saw the girl, and the apples, and him,” she finished excitedly.

Adele patted her on the arm. “Take a breath, dear.”

Elle looked at her. “What are you? Some kind of wizard?”

Adele gave her a nervous laugh. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You have quite the imagination.”

“But I saw it!” Elle protested. She stood. “You know I saw it!”

She held up the silver tray. “I saved you a truffle.”

“I’m not hungry,” Elle grumbled. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like none of this happened—”

“Eat the truffle,” Adele said. There was an edge to her voice.

She blew out a breath. “Okay.” She plopped the milk chocolate truffle in her mouth and practically swallowed it in one gulp. “Now, about what I was saying. I don’t know how you did that book thing, but it was cool! Super cool! I can’t wait to tell Rae …” A wave of dizziness enveloped her, and she stumbled.

Adele grabbed her arm. “Here, sit down. I’m afraid meeting your aunt for the first time after the accident was a little much for you.”

Elle blinked hard and looked at her. “You’re Adele, my father’s sister.”

“Yes, that’s right, Elle. I’m your aunt. What do you remember about our visit today?”

“You hugged me when you came around the bakery cases, and then we came up here, to your study, where we had hot chocolate.” She pointed to the empty cups.

“Very good. See, you remember everything.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. Why did she have the feeling that she was being manipulated? There was something she was supposed to remember. Something very important, but she couldn’t figure out what that was.

“We had a nice little chat about your father. You’ll have to come again soon, but now … oh drats, a storm is brewing. A terrible storm. You’d best get home before it hits.”

“Okay.” Elle stood. “Thanks for the chat.”

Adele smiled. “Come back anytime.”

A
s Elle opened
the door of The Chocolate Fountain to leave, a tiny black bug crawled out. The bug traveled down the steps and into the grass. A minute later, it transformed into a bird. It lifted its wings and flew upward. When it had gotten a safe distance away so as not to be noticed, the bird transformed into a giant condor. It stretched out its wings and began gathering the air in quick, smooth strokes. The condor was headed back to give a report to the mighty sorceress who had sent him on this errand. There was no time to waste, for it had begun.