The Grimm Diaries Prequels Volume 15 - 18 (2 page)

“If I may ask,” Angel said in a hesitant voice. “What do you do, Lady
Shallot?”

“That’s a pretty rude question to ask,” she laughed. It was a kindhearted
laugh. She wasn’t belittling Angel, only something in his question amused her.
“Would you ask a God what he does?”

“Are you a God?” Angel asked eagerly.

She smiled to herself, “Would you ask a God if he or she were a God?”

Angel was entranced by her indecipherable words. On the other hand, I
noticed her interest in talking to him, but
not
so much to me.

“I’m a weaver. I weave worlds,” she said, peeking back at the world she’d
just woven in the mirror. “Although this one needs a sun and a moon, like I
said. Suns and moons are always the hardest to weave,” she turned back and took
her time looking at Angel and, finally, me again. “But that’s not what you
really want to ask me. Is it?”

“That’s true,” Angel nodded. “We were lost in the ocean for…”

“Seven days,” she sighed. “A man is always lost for seven days in the
ocean. Either he ends up being saved by the daylight of the seventh day, or
damned by the same day’s nightfall. It’s a universal truth.”

“I want to reach a
real
shore,” Angel neglected her cryptic
messages. “I want to find a land where my wife
and I can start a new life, and forget about our past.”

“There is no shore for you two,” Lady Shallot said bluntly, still
tentatively weaving something.

“What do you mean by that?” Angel frowned. “We’re not going to be trapped
in the ocean for the rest of our lives. We’ve been through a lot. This isn’t
just.”

“Don’t talk to me about justice,” Lady Shallot said. “You may bring that
up with
Godmother Justina. She lives here in
the same ocean. If you want to reach her, you only have to know in your heart
that you want to meet her, and then stay strong while swimming the ocean for a
couple of days.”

“Are you saying we reached
you
because we…” I proposed.

“Because in your heart you two are looking for a home, not justice,” she
said. “Justice is overrated if you ask me. It’s a myth and is unattainable,”
she shook her shoulders, sounding like a displeased grandmother for a moment.
“Good versus evil is also overrated. You can’t search for them, but you can
always search for a home.”

I turned my gaze to Angel and squeezed his strong arm. What Lady Shallot
said was true. Angel and I had been talking about that for many days while lost
in the ocean, lying upon a log. We imagined if we could finally build our
little house, we could expand it to our own little kingdom to protect us from
Angel’s father, Night Sorrow.

“So can you help us find a
home
?” Angel turned back to her after
tapping my hands gently.

“Find, no,” Lady Shallot said. “Weave, yes,” she raised her head from the
red ball of thread, and smiled like mothers smile at their infant children.
“You see, there is almost no escape from what you two are running from.”

“Why?” Angel asked furiously.

“Because the one you are running from is your own blood.” Lady Shallot
leaned forward, just enough not to cross the circle. It was as if she were
trapped inside the Dream Temple. I wondered what should happen to her if she
crossed it. “Your father will find you wherever you are. The last thing you
want is a shore, because that’s where he awaits. The ocean is actually much
safer.”

“So how can you help us? What did you mean by ‘weave?’?” Angel asked.

“I can weave a world, a kingdom of your own, like the many worlds I am
working on now,” she pointed back at the mirror. “I’ll create a place for you
that is untraceable, where you will be safe from
him
.”

“By weaving it?” I asked.

“I’ll weave mountains, forests, rivers, stars, and everything you need.
It will be my gift to you for the courage and nobility you have shown by
escaping all evil, crossing the oceans of the world.”

“And that place will be ours?” Angel asked.

“Definitely. But you will have to work hard to take care of it. It will
be your own kingdom. Your home.”

“The Kingdom of Sorrow,” Angel looked me in the eyes. I hadn’t seen him
so happy for days.

“Not ‘Sorrow’ Angel,” I said. “Let’s find another name.”

Why would anyone call their home Sorrow?

“It’s my family’s name, darling,” he said. “I can’t do anything about
that. We will prove to the world that a name doesn’t make you evil.”

“The Kingdom of Sorrow it is,” Lady Shallot said. “Could you hand me a
new ball of thread from the basket behind you?” She pointed at it, and Angel
turned to pick up one. “No, not the green one. Pick up a red one.”

Angel picked up a red ball, but then dropped it immediately as some
threads turned into thin snakes.

“Don’t worry, it happens,” she said. “Some threads are like apples with
worms in them. Those are the bad worlds. Go ahead and retry your luck.”

“I’d prefer if my wife picks one,” he said, looking back at me. His eyes
were saying that he felt doomed, coming from the Sorrows. I was a Karnstein, a
descendant of the noblest Austrian families, the first vampire hunters in the
world.

I was the one who picked up the thread that weaved our kingdom.

As we watched Lady Shallot work the thread, I had too many questions on
my mind; questions I knew she wasn’t going to answer. I wanted to know who she
really was, why she used the red thread not the green, how it was possible to
weave a world with thread, and if she had weaved the rest of the world
.

“Now, for the little uncomfortable part,” Lady Shallot said. “Both of you,
stretch out your hands.”

We did, almost hypnotically.

Lady Shallot used her needle to prick both our thumbs, drawing a little
blood from each. She made our thumbs touch until our blood mixed, and put the
drops of blood on her needle.

Before she could complete her process, Angel couldn’t help controlling
his desire for my blood. His fangs drew out.

“Hold your darkness, young man,” Lady Shallot said. “Or it will forever
be woven to your kingdom.”

Angel did with moistened eyes. I patted him. I had never seen anyone feel
so guilty about his own darkness.

Lady Shallot used the bloodstained needle with the red ball of thread,
and started sewing the Kingdom of Sorrow.

It took her another six days.

Angel and I ate from the apples and drank the juice Lady Shallot offered
us—she only drank and never ate.

We watched her each day, weave creatively, and accurately, our new world.
We watched her sew the Black Forest, the swamps and rivers, the hills, and
every curve in the land. Angel asked her to weave an imitation of the Schloss,
a famous castle in his hometown Lohr, as an epitaph.

“I’m sorry I will not be able to weave that,” Lady Shallot said. “And
don’t ask me why.”

“But it’s a lovely castle. I want to gift it to my wife,” he explained.

“Don’t worry,” Lady Shallot said. “The castle will be there, even though
I won’t be weaving it. The Schloss is part of your existence, and it will
follow you to your kingdom—and don’t ask me to explain.”

Six days later, we saw our completed kingdom in the mirror:
The Kingdom of Sorrow; sewn by the delicate
threads of Lady Shallot, who didn’t only use the red thread, but added white
and black, too.

“I have to ask you about the colors you used to weave our kingdom,” Angel
asked. I could see it in his eyes. He was wondering why she chose the colors he
was most famous for.

“It’s not like a red thread creates a red mountain in your kingdom or
anything. As you can see, you have green mountains, yellowish barren lands,
blue skies, and so on,” Lady Shallot said. “But to answer your question, the
universe demands balance—or the probability of insinuating it. When I design a
world, it has to have three colors. White is for all things good and pure,” she
held the white ball of thread up. “Think of angels, snow, and a blank piece of
paper that is ready to cherish a writer’s masterpiece and imagination.
Basically think of a white swan for peace.”

“And Black?” Angel asked eagerly.

“Black is darkness. We all know that. Don’t we?” Lady Shallot didn’t seem
comfortable talking about it. “Think of a black swan.”

“And red?” I asked.

“Red, oh, red.” Lady Shallot held the red thread in her hand, and stared
at it as if it were a baby. “Red is the color of the blood that runs in our
veins. We’re all books of blood. If the books are sliced open, we’ll bleed our real
identities. Think of a black swan clashing into a white swan, red is the blood
that is spilled; it’s the things in between.”

“So?” Angel frowned, doing his best to control his fangs.

“It makes us chose to be black or white, although we’re never just on one
side. We’re a mixture of both,” Lady Shallot said. “Red is either your curse or
your redemption. Did you know that angels are made from red threads, balanced
with white wings and black hearts? But that’s another story.”

It was another story indeed. Whatever Lady Shallot meant, we decided not
to question her. Our new home in the mirror took our breath away.

We looked at the Kingdom of Sorrow in the mirror. It was big and
beautiful, lit by a purple haze. It wasn’t a natural light, as she hadn’t sewn
the light yet. The purple was only a substitute, so we could see the kingdom.

In addition, Lady Shallot made the golden apples dangling from the trees
shimmer like candles to light the way. In the excluded areas, golden fireflies
gathered and hung in the air, imitating the shape of lanterns, gold-lighting
the kingdom.

“The golden apples are special,” Lady Shallot said. “They will only light
the way for the good-hearted.”

I pressed on Angel’s hands tighter with a big serene smile on my face.
Some married men and women get a new house for their wedding. We, on the other
hand, were gifted with a kingdom, one that Night Sorrow couldn’t reach.

“But
where
is our kingdom?” I wondered. “I can only see it in the
mirror. How can I go there?”

“Ah,” Lady Shallot clicked her fingers together. “I almost forgot. Hang
tight.”

The rock island shook all of a sudden, and the ocean’s tides outside rose
as if something awfully big was rising from the abyss. I thought we were going
to drown.

“Don’t worry,” Lady Shallot said. “It’s just Moby Dick.

“What?” Angel said, holding me tighter.

“It’s a who,” Lady Shallot pointed at the window, and we followed her
gaze, watching the waves crash against the tower.

Angel held my hand and we went to watch from the window. That was when I
understood what I was staring at. It was a huge whale, rising from beneath the
surface of
the ocean.

“To protect your kingdom, I made it an island and placed it on the back
of a whale that will forever swim in the ocean,” Lady Shallot shouted through
the noise the whale made as it surfaced. It sounded like a giant baby crying on
its first day in the world. “The Kingdom of Sorrow is an island that resides on
the back of a whale. His name is Moby Dick. Long ago, he had Atlantis on his
back.”

“
The
Atlantis?” Angel looked back at her.

Lady Shallot nodded. “The world is full of mystery, isn’t it? Once upon a
time this whale drowned Atlantis back into the abyss. A story I don’t like to
talk about much. I hope you will take good care of Sorrow, so that this won’t
happen to it.”

I felt the burden of the kingdom on my shoulders already. We had a home
that could sink back into the ocean once we messed with it.

“Your new home will keep you safe from the darkness you’re running from.
It’s the only way. And it’s much better than having your kingdom located on
land. Night Sorrow shouldn’t be able to find you
there,” Lady Shallot said.

Angel and I almost cried, seeing our new kingdom in front of our eyes.
Finally, we were rewarded greatly. The sacrifices we'd made weren’t in vain.

“But am I going to live alone with my wife on this island?” Angel asked
as the ocean calmed, and we sat back next to her.

“Don’t be silly, Angel,” Lady Shallot said. “I didn’t work for six days
to have another Adam and Eve messing the world up. No, you will not be alone. I
will send you seven families as a start, and then others will follow so your
kingdom grows.”

“Seven families?” I wondered.

“Since you’re more like fugitives escaping the evil in this world and
hoping to start a new life, I will send you others like you who have been running
from a great evil for centuries.”

“Another great evil? Other than my father?” Angel said.

“Yes, indeed. The other evil is called the Piper,” Lady Shallot said.
“It’s an old and exhaustingly long story about the town of Hamlin that had been
terrorized by a vicious man who plays the flute to lull the children away. Only
seven families managed to escape him, now scattered around the world, century
after century, escaping the wrath of the Piper. They had sons, and their sons had
their grandsons and granddaughters, and so on. The descendants of the seven
Hamlin families are called the Children of Hamlin. You will accommodate them to
be Sorrow’s first locals, and let them start a new life with you.”

“What are their names?” I asked.

“I won’t tell you who they are, to protect their identities. I don’t want
you to treat families differently from others based on their importance to
you,” Lady Shallot said. “I’m sending them to you among many other families
that I have chosen. They do need to stay anonymous, and they need protection
from evil, just like you. Now, congratulations on
your
knew kingdom. Take good care of it.”

Later, Lady Shallot showed us secret ways to reach our kingdom through
the ocean, secret types of trains that moved on rails floating on water with
secret routes that I shall not mention here for obvious reasons.