Authors: Chanda Hahn
Mina
flailed and fell out of bed onto the floor with a painful thud. She stared at
the morning light pouring into her room. Her alarm clock showed a quarter past
seven. Fifteen minutes.
She sat
on the floor, her hands covering her mouth in horror at what she had just
experienced. It had felt so real—even following their plan down to a T.
Ever had
been stabbed and then destroyed, and Mina had tried to save somebody she
thought was Jared and ended up dying as well.
But how?
Someone else must have come in after her and smashed the mirror.
Was it a
dream? A warning of something to come? Looking up in alarm, she saw that the
mirrors were still intact. Mina and Ever hadn’t trapped him in the mirrors yet.
In fact, Teague hadn’t even arrived.
There was
still time. Not a whole lot, but enough that maybe, just maybe, she could save
one more person before she died. This had to be more than a dream. It was a
premonition. There was still another enemy to watch out for.
She
grabbed the wooden bat from behind her bed post. She couldn’t risk losing Ever
too. If she could just swing the bat and break the mirror, that timeline would
be over. She hefted the bat, grunted and swung—but she pulled up short,
changed direction, and hit the floor.
Screaming
in frustration, Mina pounded the floor until her anger was spent. She tossed
the bat on the floor and wiped her wrist across her brow, staring at the
mirrors. This plan was supposed to save her life, but it would cost Ever’s. She
didn’t want to sacrifice herself to save everyone, but she knew she had to.
Destroying their mirrors trap was the only way to protect Ever.
Mina
gripped the baseball bat again and swung. One by one, she destroyed each of the
mirrors. Shards of glass littered the floor. She stepped toward the next, glass
popping beneath her feet. She broke every single mirror.
Except
her mother’s.
“Why
mom?” Mina asked. She could just make out her own outline, blurred through her
tears, and for a moment, convince herself she was talking to her mother.
“Why did
you hide so much from us? Why couldn’t you have told us and given us the best
chance to survive?”
Mina
could imagine her mother’s voice answering, telling her she had the best chance
ever—
now
—of saving not
only herself, but her people, the Fae.
Angry
tears slid down her cheeks. As Mina looked back up at the mirror, she knew what
she had to do.
She
grabbed her Unaccomplishments and Epic Disasters notebook and flipped it open.
“You are
a new Grimoire. You are not made from Teague’s life but mine. No longer will
you hold tales of my unaccomplishments and epic disasters. You will hold my
greatest triumphs and happily-ever-afters.” She closed her eyes and felt her
hands grow warm as power spread through her fingertips.
The
notebook lifted off of the bed and spun in the air, before gently landing open
on the bed. No longer a spiral notebook, the new Grimoire was a leather-bound
journal with gold letters. She placed it on her bedside table, and on top of it
the seam ripper. She hoped Ever would find it and know that she was passing the
quests off to her. Ever would find the others and help protect her brother.
Besides, she was better at being a Grimm and fighting Fae than Mina had ever
been. She only wished she had thought of creating more Grimoires sooner, but
they were made of journals. Hours of heart had gone into each book, and she had
a suspicion that’s why they held the power they did.
Ever was
hiding in a room down the hall waiting to ambush Teague. To make sure she
didn’t repeat the dream, Mina needed to get away from the house. She grabbed a
cross over bag from her messy floor and shoved in the dagger.
As she
took off running down the stairs, she heard the closet door open. Ever called
out in surprise, “What’s all the noise? Where are you going? What about the
plan?”
Forget the plan
. Her current plan was to get as far away
from her friends as she could before Teague came for her. She ran through the
kitchen and out the back door across the grass.
She
looked at the watch on her hand as she ran. She only had two minutes before her
twelve hours were up. Mina didn’t want to die, and she realized what must have
run through her mother’s mind as she faced Death to protect her children: Love
for others can make even the scaredest of souls become brave in the face of
danger.
Ever hung
her head out a second-floor window. “Don’t do it, Mina!”
She began
a countdown in her head. When she only had a few seconds left, she stopped running
and held her hand over the stitch in her side. She had almost reached the tree
line.
“Mina.”
His voice echoed through the air, taunting her.
“I’m
here,” she answered.
“So am
I,” he said from right behind her.
He was
just as she pictured in her dream, wearing the same exact clothes, even the
same exact expression of triumph. “I’ve come for what’s mine.”
“It’s in
my bag.”
“Give it
to me.” He stepped forward and held out his hand.
Mina
carefully opened up the crossover bag and reached inside, her fingers brushing
the dagger. “Remember what you promised. You’d leave my friends and family
alone if I gave you the dagger and my life.”
She
sucked in her breath and squeezed the blade until she felt the sharp sting as
it sliced her skin. A burning sensation followed, but she held in the gasp and
tried to mask the pain. She wanted to be the one in control, and this was the
fastest way to seal the deal and protect her friends.
“Yes, I
get the dagger and your life. In exchange, they go free. I promise. Now give me
the dagger.” His eyes searched hers and looked at her bag in worry. He noticed
how long she was drawing out handing him the weapon.
Mina lost
her equilibrium and had problems focusing. A cold shock went through her body
as she pulled the cursed dagger out of the bag and held it out to Teague. There
was no mistaking the long bleeding cut along her hand from the poisoned dagger.
“Mina,
what have you done?” She thought she saw a hint of worry flash across his face,
but she must have imagined it.
He wanted
her life, but he hadn’t specified how.
“Here,”
she whispered, her lips trembling as she fell to her knees. “I give you both
the dagger and my life”—breathing became hard as she fought to make her
lungs work—“freely.” Then the poison froze her limbs. The only thing she
could feel as she hit the ground was the coldness of the wet grass against her
cheek.
Then her
world went dark.
Pain
seized Mina, and she woke up gasping. Teague, face grim, leaned over her. Her
stomach knotted, and she curled up in a ball to try and protect herself.
“Make it
stop,” she cried out.
Teague
cursed in anger.
“Kill
me,” she begged. Never in her life or death—if that’s what this
was—had she ever thought she’d beg Teague to kill her. But she meant it.
“Just kill me and get it over with.”
“Not
yet.” She swore his eyes turned gray for a minute. She watched his hands glow
brightly when he brought them near her arm. “I have to burn the poison out of
your bloodstream.”
Another
searing pain laced up her hand, and she blacked out.
When she
came to again, she had to fight to open her eyes, crusted shut from dried
tears. She lay in a pile of straw in a dank, dark room. Mina’s first thought
was “dungeon,” and her second thought was that she wasn’t dead. Iron
bracelets adorned each of her wr
ists
with small etched writing that looked Fae. Her skin burned and itched in slight
irritation. She tried to use power to get them off, but it only hurt her wrists
and turned them bright red. She quickly abandoned that idea. It
seemed—though the bands were light—there was enough iron in the
cuffs to limit her power. She studied the burns on her wrists and noticed that
her palm had been well bandaged.
Peeling
back the white cloth, she saw that the cut had already healed. But the scar was
still there, jagged and pink.
How long
had she been here? She pulled off the bandage and let it fall to the straw.
There wasn’t much room in her cell, just enough space to stand and walk five
paces from one side to the other. A Fae light floated in the middle of the
area, giving her light to see by, but little else was in the room. There wasn’t
even a door.
How strange.
“I’m either still dreaming… or dead.”
“No,
you’re not dead, though you should be,” Teague’s voice rang out around her. A
hole opened in the brick wall, and he stepped through it. He wore his royal
robes again with the silver-leaf emblem on the collar. Which probably meant
they were at the Fae palace, and she was in his dungeon “You thought to rob me
of my prize, dear Mina. We can’t have that. I said I wanted your life, and I
shall have it, but only I will decide when your short lifespan will be over. Do
you understand?” He grasped her chin and made her look up at him.
She
searched his eyes for a hint of gray. “And when will that be?”
“Soon, if
you don’t stop asking annoying questions.” He thrust her chin downward and
forced her gaze away.
“Fine,”
she snapped, instantly regretting it.
Every
inch of her wanted to fight and defy him, but if surviving was a
possibility—if holding back her anger could help—she had to rein
that in. She’d told Nan she was going to survive.
Teague
wouldn’t admit it, because he preferred looking cruel and in control. But he
saved her life, gave her a second chance. She wasn’t sure why he’d done it, but
she hoped it was because part of him was still good.
She had
seen it in her vision. Good still existed in him. She just needed to find it.
“How’s
your hand?” He turned away from her, clasped his hands behind his back, and
pretended to talk to the wall.
“It’s
fine.”
“And how
do you fare?” Again without turning around.
“Fine as
well.”
“Is that
the only word in your vocabulary?” He spun, the irritation across his face
obvious.
Which
just set her off. “I don’t know. I’m sure there’s a lot of really interesting
vocabulary words I’d like to call you right now, but somehow this dungeon
doesn’t seem like the ideal time and place to let loose those choice
words.”
Teague
started to laugh, and he didn’t stop. “There! That’s the fire and the wit I
remember.”
“Oh, I’m
sure you didn’t extend my life just so you could have intellectual battles. But
then again, I’m sure you get plenty of stimulating conversations with the ogres
each day.”
“You have
no idea why I did what I did!”
“No, I
don’t,” she yelled back. “So explain.”
“I plan
on making you suffer like I suffered.”
“I don’t
understa…”
Teague
had vanished.
***
He came
again hours later for more of the same. Taunting and teasing—they battled
with wits and words. It became a frustrating habit, actually. Each time, Teague
riled her until they were yelling at each other, and then he’d disappear,
leaving her miserable.
She’d
stared at the Fae light that floated above her cell and realized she could make
it dim or glow brighter with just a thought. She had spent her hours trying to
make the wall open up like Teague had and escape. But it must be warded against
her, because the only thing she could actually control in her whole cell was
the Fae light.
After
another few hours, she grew hungry. Her stomach growled, but she wasn’t going
to beg for food from Teague. She was too proud for that.
The light
above her disappeared into the wall and left her in darkness.
“Hey
wait!” Mina called out in shock. But then she stopped herself. She could handle
being in the dark. She wasn’t scared.
Minutes
later, the Fae light reappeared, floating just above her as if it had never
left. The bricks in the wall folded out to reveal a slot, and a tray of food
appeared. As soon as Mina took the tray, the bricks moved back and formed a
solid wall again.
The meal
was simple—bread, a sweet grain mixture similar to oatmeal, and warm
cider. For prison food, it wasn’t half-bad. Mina finished the food and then put
the tray by the wall and stretched out on the straw. She fell asleep only to
wake up with a familiar sensation. There wasn’t a toilet in her cell.
“This is
so embarrassing.” Mina wanted to cry as she looked around for options.
Again,
the Fae light bobbed and floated through the wall. When it returned, the bricks
shifted to reveal a door.
This was
the first time a door had appeared. Mina wasn’t sure what to make of it, but
she had a feeling the light had responded to her current need. She tried the
brass pull handle, and it opened to reveal a simple water closet to relieve
herself, along with necessities like soap and water. Mina took way longer than
she needed and used the soap and water to scrub her face, hands, and as much of
her body as she could reach. She didn’t have a comb, so she did the best she
could, running her hands through her long brown hair to pull out the snarls.
When she
came out, the closet disappeared.
That
became her daily routine. Mina would sleep on the straw and then spend hours
talking to herself, pondering aloud what had happened to her friends and
family. Was Teague leaving the human plane alone? When he didn’t come to
torment her, that was its own special torture—she assumed he was
destroying her plane as she sat there helpless.
Her plane?
There was a good part of her that wanted
to go and explore the Fae world and learn about her mother’s family. She had
learned all she wanted to know about the Grimm line, but she desperately wanted
to know about her mother’s parents. Were they still out there? Did she have
cousins, aunts, uncles?
Only
twice did she give in to her sadness and cry over the loss of her mother and
brother. She missed them terribly, and after days, even wished for Ever’s
company. When she thought she’d been in the dungeon over a week, she almost
began to miss Teague and his temper.
Mina
amused herself by creating a game of sorts with the straw. She would bend a
piece around and around creating a ball, which she would hold between her
finger and thumb on her left hand and then flick with her right at a brick on
the far wall. She even scratched a round target onto the brick.
She flicked
the ball at the target.
Teague
appeared and caught the ball midair.
“You know
that almost hit me.” He looked at the crumpled straw in his hand.
“Oh no,
you were almost impaled by a piece of straw and died,” Mina said. “Too bad.”
“It
wouldn’t have killed me.” Teague frowned and discarded the homemade ball.
“Oh, bad
sportsmanship, minus two points.” She picked up another straw ball and took aim
at the target. She flicked it, and it hit low on the target.
Teague
stood off to the side, watching her as she played her game. She didn’t ask him
to join in, even though she kinda thought he wanted to. He seemed really
interested in just watching her. He even made a chair materialize, so he could
sit comfortably. He didn’t speak.
After an
hour, he disappeared again.
He
appeared again the next afternoon when she was scratching another target on the
wall. She turned around, and he was next to her with his own pile of straw
balls—his were green. He picked one up and flicked it at her. It bounced
off her forehead, and she flinched.
“Two
points.” Teague grinned and reached for another ball.
“I’m not
the target.” Mina pointed at the second one, higher up the wall. “That is.”
“Could
have fooled me. I’m winning, two to zero,” he crowed.
“My game,
my rules.” She kneeled in front of her stack. She’d had a feeling he would
appear today just as she was setting up the game. “Zero-zero.”
“Fine,”
he grumbled. But she could see the challenge light up his eyes.
She
didn’t want to admit it, but she was excited at the prospect of beating him.
“And no
cheating,” Mina remembered to add at the last minute.
Teague’s
shoulders wilted a little at the reminder.
They took
turns aiming and flicking their balls at the targets, and since she had never
played the game two-player, they had to argue the change in rules extensively
and loudly. Teague frequently demanded that he was right, but Mina reminded him
she made up the game, so choosing the rules was her prerogative.
“You want
to decide the rules, make up your own game.”
His eyes
flashed a darker blue.
“Maybe
tomorrow will be the day I take your life,” he warned before he disappeared.
He didn’t
come back the next day, and Mina didn’t feel like picking up her straw game
again. She even broke up all the balls she’d made into smaller pieces of
unusable straw.
Sleeping
on the straw was getting tiresome. It was itchy, uncomfortable, and it gave her
a rash, but she’d never tell Teague that. At least the straw kept her inches
away from freezing to death. Still, it poked and prodded and kept getting under
her clothes.
Frustrated,
she finally decided if she froze to death, she froze to death. She wasn’t going
to ask Teague for help. She moved to sleep on the stone. At first, she was fine
and fell asleep easily without the poking and prodding of the straw, but
sometime during the night, her teeth started to chatter. The Fae light dimmed
and relit, but she didn’t stir.
She
vaguely remembered the sound of bricks scraping against each other. Someone
lifted her and carried her up stairs. She didn’t open her eyes to see the warm
person who carried her. Instead, she might have snuggled against his shoulder.
She heard
a curse and received a nuzzle in return. He placed her on something soft and
laid a blanket over her. Bricks scraped again.
When she
awoke, she studied her new prison. It still lacked a door and window, but it
had a bed—a real four-poster bed with a sapphire blue coverlet. There was
even a pillow. Mina squealed in delight and hugged the satin pillow. The bed
was so wonderful that she couldn’t hold back the tears. She looked around the
cell and noticed more. There was a small, square table with two chairs and a
chess board, another end table with a bowl of water and a glass, and even a few
books.
It was so
glorious after her weeks in the dungeon, she felt like a princess in a palace.
This time, when she needed to use the water closet, the wall opened to reveal a
very large bathtub, full with warm soapy water.
Mina
happily spent the next few hours soaking in the tub, scrubbing her skin raw.
She soaked her wrists under the water, and the iron cuffs clanked against the
tub. She tried to rub her skin beneath the enchanted bracelets, and it felt
soothing.
The whole
thing
was soothing. Mina even went so
far as to drain the water and refill it with bubbles and soap, so she could
soak a second time. She dunked her head under the water and held her breath,
imagining what it was like to be a siren. It was hard to imagine something
other than the cartoon-mermaid version, but she knew better than to imagine that.
She tried to picture her mother as a young mergirl with a
tail—desperately in love.
What had
it been like for her mother to give up her tail to be with her father? No
matter how she imagined it, it didn’t seem real. She couldn’t envision her mom
as anything other than the normal, overly petrified mother who worked as a
house cleaner. That didn’t suggest powerful siren, and yet she had seen Charlie
scream. His call was so powerful, it cracked the magic ward around her. How
come she hadn’t gotten that gift?