The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 11- 14: Children of Hamlin, Jar of Hearts, Tooth & Nail & Fairy Tale, Ember in the Wind, Welcome to Sorrow, and Happy Valentine's Slay. (19 page)

“Any suggestions?” I patted Jacob.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone but—“

“I can’t believe I ripped out your heart and you still moan like a good man,” I rolled my eyes. “What could possibly make you still feel sympathy?”

“I don’t,” Jacob said, but I knew he was lying. Something still made him want to resist the hollow darkness in his chest where he once had a heart. “I suggest a peasant boy named Pinocchio,” he said.

“Why? Did he hurt you, and now you want you seek revenge?” I smirked.

“Not at all,” said Jacob. “He’s a cursed boy already, but his curse will be useful to you.”

“How so?”

“His curse is that when he lies his nose becomes longer and exposes him,” Jacob said, and I didn’t need him to finish to get his point.

“How sneaky of you, Jacob. I’m starting to like the new you,” I patted him again. “So you want me to use Pinocchio so I make sure he isn’t lying to me after he overhears Cassandra and me. Genius.”

“Thank you,” he looked at me hesitantly.

“Don’t be ashamed when I compliment you, Jacob. I’m not the Big Bad Wolf, and in many ways I am not that evil as think I am.”

“So, will you be using the boy?”

“Even though your idea is spectacular for a failed writer with no heart, I have my own way to solve this. I will make someone really special eavesdrop on my conversation with Cassandra. “

“Who?”

“What’s the point of telling you now, and unvailing the mystery? Everything is valuable until exposed, Jacob” I whispered again. “And believe me, Jacob. We’re all about mystery. Once exposed, we’re not desired anymore.”

I left the cottage and let Managarm drive me back to my castle where I waited impatiently for Cassandra with a broad smile on my face.

***

Cassandra was a redhead. She entered the castle barefoot, wearing an old dress with many stars sewn over it. The dress was made of only two colors: blue and fading gold, which was the color of stars. The dress was one piece and covered her bare feet—I knew from the sound of clutching on my marble floor, and I didn’t like it when guests made annoying sounds. But she was the fortuneteller; I had to compromise. I had already broken one of my rules by letting a peasant like her enter my chamber.

I sat on my glass throne watching as her eyes scanned every detail in the castle with care and amazement. It was no secret that the Schloss, my immortal construction, was an exquisite piece of art, designed by the finest architects of our time. But rarely had anyone expressed their utter amazement like Cassandra. She wasn’t shy about it, nor did my piercing stare stop her from exploring further.

From afar, she looked like she was in her twenties. She had a decent figure and her curly, red hair made her look young, oozing with an aura I had only seen in gypsies. It was the kind of aura I envied because it sent one message all the time: that she didn’t care what you thought of her. As a Queen, it was something I couldn’t afford myself, and it made me uneasy with her presence.

I only started to like her when she came closer and I saw that her face had aged considerably for a woman in her twenties. The aging lines were sharp enough they had dug deep in her face. Her skin was thin from the years, or maybe the fact that she’d been telling people about their future for centuries and no one ever believed her.

I couldn’t imagine how it felt never to be believed. Never. What did that feel like? I remember a story, famous among the peasants, about a boy who had cried wolf as a joke many times until the peasants discovered he was only bluffing. Then one day when a real wolf came and he cried for help, no one believed him because he had been a liar before.

Were you a liar before, Cassandra? Why were you cursed?

I watched her sit on the chair I had ordered for her in front of a table that separated us. That close, I could tell she wasn’t in her twenties, but hundreds of years old.
How old are you, Cassandra?

I decided it was best not to ask. I didn’t want to know much about her. I watched her hold the rim of her dress as she sat down politely, not even acknowledging my presence. It was as if I wasn’t there, and there was no one in the chamber with her but me.

In silence, I watched her pull out the Tarot cards and place them on the table. She closed her eyes and laced her fingers together as if praying for a moment.

“You can ask me what you like,” she said. “There are three questions which I will never answer.”

It took me a moment to register that she was talking to me since she had her eyes closed. I knew that she wasn’t like other fortunetellers. She wasn’t chanting exotic words or putting on a show. She didn’t care who I was, and she didn’t fear me. I couldn’t escape her imminent presence in the chamber myself, and it led me to believe that she was the one who would tell me about the Lost Seven.

It was an uneasy feeling since I wasn’t supposed to believe her. How could that be when I had already trusted her? I had to wait and see.

“And what would those three questions be?” I asked.

“Four questions,” she said firmly.

“But—“

“Five.”

“Alright,” I said. Never had anyone dared to be so blunt with me. “I accept.”

“And please tell the men hiding behind the curtains to leave,” she said, her eyes still closed.

Her words shocked me for a moment. I had ordered two huntsmen to eavesdrop behind the curtains. How did she expose them?

I gestured for the men to leave, and my curiosity about her peaked. She had earned my respect instantly.

“It wasn’t a good idea to try the oldest trick in the book with me,” she said. “I am Cassandra, teller of the untold, and I am destined to never be believed. Things should stay that way.”

“I respect that, but how am I supposed to act on the things you will tell me?” I said, trying my best not to lean forward in my throne. I was so intrigued by her that I wanted to be nearer, but I couldn’t let her know that.

“The unknown is a mystery, and it’s supposed to stay that way,” she said.

“Then why did you accept my invitation?”

“To answer your questions.”

“And what good are your answers if my heart is destined to disbelieve you?”

“Somewhere in your last question lays all the mystery and the answers,” she said.

I didn’t even know what that meant, and I felt a great confusion.

“Then what’s the point of me even asking you? Why do you think I will still ask about something I will oppose and disbelieve?” I said.

“Because you can’t help it,” she answered, and her words left me speechless.

Although we were alone in the chamber—or so I led her to believe—I couldn’t admit to her the truth. I couldn’t help knowing what I was destined not to know in my heart. It drove me mad.

“It’s alright,” she said. “We all can’t help knowing. It’s the nature of mankind because we think knowledge is salvation.”

“And isn’t it?” I was starting to wonder if she’d ever open her eyes and look into mine.

“Not always,” she said. “Knowledge can be pain. So what do you wish to ask?”

I was glad we finally reached that part.

“My questions are simple,” I shrugged.

Somehow when I was finally about to know, I felt the panic of knowing in my belly, but I didn’t know why I felt that way. Didn’t I always want to know who the Lost Seven were?

“Why did the Brothers Grimm curse us?” I demanded.

“I can’t answer,” she said. “It’s one of the forbidden questions, and it’s not what really bothers you.”

“Alright,” I said. “Who are the Lost Seven?”

Cassandra opened her eyes. They were blue with that same tinge of gold like in her dress. She breathed in with a curved smile on her face, and reached for her cards.

She took the cards and organized them next to each other, forming a big rectangular shape on the table.

“Give me your hand,” she reached for it. “The one you trust the most.”

I had never thought of something like that. Did I trust my left hand more than my right? I didn’t know. I gave her my left.

Cassandra held my hand with hers, closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “This will do,” she said and opened her eyes.

“How do you know this is the hand that I trust?” I wondered.

“It shows. You stabbed someone with it before,” she said. “It’s the hand you trust.”

I did my best not to let out a shriek. I did kill with that hand before, and almost no one ever knew that fact.

“Now pick a card from the table,” she demanded

When I reached for the card with my left hand, she stopped me and pushed it away.

“Pick a card with the hand you don’t trust,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because the one you trust will betray you by taking your side and not telling the truth. The truth can be revealed with the hand you don’t trust.”

I reached for the cards with my right hand, unable to choose. “Why should I pick up the cards, not you?”

“It’s your question, and only you could answer it through me.”

I picked a card.

“Turn it over,” her voice was demanding again, as if I were her servant.

I turned the card over and saw a bird drawn on it; a large bird with purplish-red colored wings. The bird was moving on the card, sitting on a pile of ashes and flapping its wings eagerly. It was calm but its eyes showed hostility, then it cawed at me.

“The first of the Lost Seven is the Phoenix,” Cassandra said.

“The Phoenix?”

“It’s a bird that rises from the ashes after it dies.”

“I thought the Lost Seven were human.”

“They are,” Cassandra nodded. “The future isn’t always showed in pictures and names. Sometimes, it’s showed in metaphors, and it’s up to you to decipher it.”

“Can I at least ask questions?”

“You can.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“All Lost Seven are either a boy or a girl. Your question is ridiculous. If you can’t identify the Phoenix then you might have not met it yet. It will be shown to you in the future.”

“Wait. I have another question. How old is the Phoenix?”

“All the Lost Seven are almost your daughter’s age,” Cassandra said.

I hadn’t told her about Snow White yet, but I assumed she knew a lot about me than I imagined.

“Can’t you tell me anything about the Phoenix?”

“You ask the right question, I will answer.”

“Does she or he have a certain power or magic?”

“Like I said; it can rise up from the ashes, and it will have its revenge.”