Story's End (21 page)

It had taken them the best part of the afternoon to reach the Enchanted Forest, and worry for Una was always in the back of Peter’s mind. He willed the troops to hurry.
We’re coming to help you.
Peter remembered how sure Una had been that Duessa was after the Elements, how Una had been looking for the castle. He had no doubt she was there now, or on her way with the other crowds going to the coronation.
But she doesn’t have the leaf
. Peter glanced behind him. His father was surrounded by a group of their neighbors. Peter wasn’t sure how the ranks of bakers, millers, and blacksmiths would fare against the Enemy’s horrors, but they looked determined enough.

There were recruits from other districts too. By far their greatest numbers were from the International District, which was another stroke of luck, because most of them came in traditional battle dress. It would be appropriate attire for a coronation, and, while Peter and the others had to hide their weapons in their fancy clothes, the Internationals could freely carry more than one weapon apiece. It had been harder to arm the group from the Historical District—many of whom wore full skirts or tailored frock coats, ill-designed for fighting—and the worst of all had been the handful who survived Heart’s Place. Most of them had never even seen a weapon, let alone had any idea how to carry a concealed one.

A mixed-up jumble of Fairy Folk insisted on following Peter because of what they had done at the arena. Some of the fairies had been there, riding on the cats’ backs, and they blushed and giggled whenever Indy walked past.

Peter eyed Professor Edenberry’s battalion enviously. He and Griselda didn’t even need to issue commands. Their followers walked in calm pairings—solid-looking Farmers rubbed shoulders with Woodsmen and Fair Maidens. Edenberry had been training the recruits from Fairy Village, so they naturally wanted to follow him.

Indy’s father was leading the last segment, made up of the newest arrivals. A caravan from the Far-Off Lands had arrived just as they were finishing their plan. Peter had never even heard of the Far-Off Lands, and he couldn’t help but stare at their exotic dress. They had come with camels and, despite Indy’s father’s protests, insisted that the camels were trained to stay calm during battle. So the camel group brought up the rear.

After they passed the first signpost that pointed the way to the Red Castle, a black cat joined Peter’s group. Then a calico appeared. And a pair of tawny toms. And then animals began pouring into their ranks, galloping alongside the clusters of characters and weaving among the gaps between them. Dogs of all sizes. Tiny rabbits who might have gone unnoticed but for all the commotion. Even the birds were joining in, swooping down to cry out with loud voices, “To war! To war!”

The other human characters were just as astonished as Peter, although the Fairy Folk among them cheered for each new species. “Hooray! The foxes! Cheers for the foxes!”

And then, just to Peter’s left, a unicorn appeared. Its silvery coat glimmered in the dusky twilight. And there, seated on the unicorn’s back, was a Siamese cat. And behind her, a familiar-looking tabby.

“Sam?” Peter said as his friend leaped off the unicorn in one fluid bound.

“The Feline Quorum has met,” the Siamese told the boys, “and we have decided that your cause has merit.”

“Okay.” Peter had no idea what to say.

“Furthermore,” the queenly cat said, “it seemed good to us to rally the other animal kind in this time of great need.” She licked her paw. “We are not volunteering to take orders from humans.” One blue eye winked at Peter. “But we are proud to stand with you against the great evil of our common Enemy.”

Sam circled Peter three times. “Don’t you look fancy.” Sam sat back on his haunches and blinked his green eyes at Peter’s dress clothes. “I suppose I should have told the other animals to dress up.” He gave a sharp yowl. “Now let’s go save Story.” The characters around Peter, human and animal alike, broke into cheers, and their newly formed army was soon ready to continue.

For a time all seemed to be going well. Then, the animals grew wary.

“We’re not alone,” Sam hissed, as the fur on his back puffed up. “The smell of a battle is nearby.”

“Castle guards, maybe? Talekeepers? What do you think?” Peter asked Indy.

Indy shrugged and eased a wicked-looking scimitar out of the scabbard on his back. “Does it matter?”

Peter wondered if the other companies sensed the impending danger. He sent Sam to warn the group behind them, and the soft conversations ceased. An owl hooted near him, and Peter swung at it with his sword.

There was the crunch of footsteps off to the side, and then a cool hand on his shoulder.

Peter spun around and nearly dropped the blade from his hands.

“Professor Thornhill?”

Chapter 26

U
na poked her head out of the door. “Come on,” she hissed at Horace. “Now’s our chance.”

“Nothing up here,” Horace said while wolfing down the rest of Kai’s food, “but a bunch of sleeping Villains.”

“You know where we are?” Una said through clenched teeth. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Horace shrugged.

Una paused at the doorway. Horace could stay in the tower forever for all she cared. But there was one thing she had to do before she left him. She walked back to the table. “You do know Elton’s not going to make you Tale Master, don’t you?” She tried to say it in a kind voice.

He stopped chewing, a mound of food bulging out of the side of one cheek. “I domph bmpheev ooo,” he said.

Una didn’t have time for this. “Think about it. Have they ever done anything nice for you? Elton blamed you for his mistake, for goodness’ sake. They obviously haven’t fed you.” She put one hand on his shoulder. “You should go home, Horace. Get somewhere safe.”

She grabbed the heavy candlestick and left Horace staring silently at the remains of the meal on the table in front of him. Una’s conscience was clear. She hoped Horace got it together and left before Duessa’s creatures came back for him.

You write the Tale
, Kai had said. That must mean there was something she could do to fight the Enemy. A way she could take him by surprise. Una made her way down the spiraling stone staircase. Before she reached the bottom, she came across another door, and this one was covered with a thick curtain of barbed vines. She gripped the candlestick tightly and poked it into the mass of thorns. The plants started moving. They twisted and snaked around the candlestick, squeezing so tight that the metal crumpled right before Una’s eyes.

Una stood for a minute. Her parents were obviously hiding something important. The candlestick was now a wad of metal no bigger than her fist. It didn’t matter what was behind that curtain. There was no way Una could get to it.

Footsteps echoed in the stairwell, and they weren’t Horace’s. They were coming from below. Una had waited too long. She retraced her steps, but there was nowhere to hide in the curving stairwell. She pressed back against the wall, hoping that the shadows might somehow disguise her, as the hunched form of Tale Master Elton bobbed toward her.

“Rip out the characters, he tells me.” Elton was muttering to himself as he stomped up the steps. “After everything I’ve done. What will he give me? Nothing.” He reached into his coat pocket with one hand. “What has he ever given me? Just ‘Read the words, Elton.’” Una tiptoed closer so she could get a better look. Elton pulled something small out of his pocket, and he gazed down at it. “I should have known. From the very beginning, it’s only been what I can do. How he could use me. And then after he was gone, Duessa.”

Somewhere far above her, Horace coughed, and Elton glanced up. Una held her breath, but it was no good. Elton had seen her. And now he was coming closer, his stout form blocking any room for escape. For a split second Una thought about pushing past him and racing down the stairs, but where would she go? And how would she find out what was in the secret room? Then she remembered that Elton would think she was still under her mother’s enchantment. Being Duessa’s daughter had to be good for something.

She stepped out of the shadows. “My mother is expecting me,” she said. “For Father’s coronation.”

“Oh, yes. The long-lost daughter. The girl who was Written In.” Elton spat the words as he ascended the stairs. “My replacement. Too muddleheaded to flee while you have the chance. They’ll use you up, too, mark my words, and then they’ll toss you aside like rubbish.” Elton had been crying. His eyes were red and puffy as he looked up at Una. “I wish they’d kill me and get it over with. I’m tired, Una. So tired. I’m glad you’re here, really, because now I can be done. It’s always just been me. The last WI.”

Elton was right in front of her now. “Elton, read these words. Elton, rip into Tales. Elton, tell the people of Story this lie. Elton, tell them that one.” The Tale Master’s hands were shaking violently, and Una could now see what he held. It was a tiny toy sailboat that a little boy might play with.

“Elton, read the words. Elton, write the Tale. Elton, read the words, and you can go home. Read the words, and you can be Tale Master. Read the words, and it will all be over.” The Tale Master was sobbing now, great tears rolling down his cheeks, as he cradled the boat in his hands. “Just one more thing, Elton. Then we’ll set you free.”

Una stood frozen, unsure what to do. She was prepared to bluff her way past the old Mr. Elton, the mean one who had taken her prisoner in Alethia’s garden. But this broken shell of a man was another thing altogether.

Elton was staring down at the toy boat. “They killed them all. Walter and his wife. The crazy old man. Every last one of them.”

Una’s mouth went dry. She knew that name.
Walter.
She remembered sitting at a table in the Heroics classroom with Sam and Peter, back before everything had happened. She could almost see the crumpled packet of pages, covered with words scrawled in a childish hand.
The boy who had been Written In.
Una remembered how sad she had been when she read those letters, how frightened the boy had sounded and how much he had missed his mother. Una stared at Elton’s bent form.
Elton
was the boy who had been kidnapped?
He
was the one who had wanted to go home?

“I am the last of them,” Elton said as he put the boat back into his pocket. “I should have known how it would all end.”

“How will it all end?” Una said, speaking softly as she would to a very young child. She wasn’t afraid of Elton anymore.

“With me never being finished.” Elton looked up. His eyes were bloodshot from all the crying. “Never doing enough. They’ll always make me do more.” His face crumpled into an ugly sob. “I’ll never be free.”

“But you can be free,” Una said. She thought of Kai’s words from earlier. “You write the Tale, Mr. Elton. You get to choose what kind of character you are.”

Elton stopped sniffling. He squinted up at her.

Una held her breath. Maybe she had gone too far. Could Elton tell she wasn’t really enchanted?

Elton didn’t say anything for a long time. When he finally spoke, it was as though he hadn’t been crying at all. “Your mother and father want to see you,” Elton said in an even voice. “They sent me to fetch you for the coronation.”

Chapter 27

S
now stared at Peter Merriweather and his ragtag army. There were maybe a hundred characters with him, not counting the animals, and the humans among them were shakily putting away their weapons. “You look ridiculous, you know.” Snow pointed at Peter’s tailcoat.

“No worse than you,” Peter said as he eyed the barbed wire on her outfit. “We
are
going to a coronation.”

Snow wiped at a dirty spot on her black trousers. Not that it did any good. The whole thing was covered with stains. Her heart was returning to its normal pace, now that she realized she wasn’t facing some new host of Taleless.

Neither party could quite believe what they were hearing from the other: Thornhill and the Westerns, that the Enemy had actually enchanted most of Story’s characters; and the Resistance members, that the Taleless had been loosed to destroy the Ranch.

“Do you think your plan will work?” Snow asked Peter as she fell into step beside him. “You think some herbs will help everyone become unenchanted?”

The Westerns were spreading out among the other characters, filling in the empty spots in their ranks, until soon there was just a long line of characters threading their way up through the forest toward the castle.

“The leaf will help us see clearly and fight off the Enemy’s enchantment,” the boy with Peter answered. “Once they know the truth, Story will fight, I’m sure of it.” The boy sounded confident. Almost too confident.

Snow watched him out of the corner of her eye. She had seen him before at Perrault, remembered his name was Indy, but knew little else of him. “And what makes you so sure?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “What if they still choose to crown him King, even when their eyes are opened?”

Indy scowled at her. “We have to try. Would you rather wait and see what the Enemy does next?” His dark eyes were nearly purple. “This is the best plan we’ve got.”

“The leaf worked for us,” Peter told Snow. “Everyone else believed the Enemy’s lies, but we were able to see what was really going on. We just need to make sure that each character gets a little taste.”

“How are you going to do that?” Snow asked, snagging her pant leg on a brambly bush. “Force everyone to eat it?”

“We’ve brewed it.” Peter pulled out a little stoppered bottle. “There’s enough for everyone that way. We want it to last as long as possible,” he said as he swirled the liquid around in the glass. “We’ll each take one sip before we go into the castle, and then we just have to get a single drop onto everyone’s food.”

The land began to slope upward here, little eddies of mist swirling about Snow’s boots. She could hear the sound of low laughter among the characters. She wondered what her mother would say about Elton’s enchanted voice and the leaf Peter planned to hand out. But her mother was deep in conversation with several of the grown-ups who had come with Peter, and she barely had a glance to spare for Snow. Snow wondered if she was telling them about the secret entrance in the dungeons. The topmost castle turrets rose in front of them, warm candlelight shining out at them from the highest windows.