The Grimm Legacy (26 page)

“Well done, young Merritt,” said Doc. “
Circaea lutetiana,
yes? Enchanter’s nightshade?”

Andre nodded solemnly.

“Thank you. I was getting very uncomfortable in there.”

“Wow! Way to go, Andre!” I exclaimed. “Welcome back, Doc. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I think so, thank you. You’ve brought the
kuduo,
I see. Good job! Ah, and there are Anjali and Marc. He makes a great-looking
mrammuo,
doesn’t he?”

“What’s a
mrammuo
?” I asked.

“An Akan brass weight. The Akan people measured their gold by weighing it against
mrammuos,
brass weights in the shape of men and animals, so naturally one of their princes would take that form. Interesting subject, the gong beater. A symbol of dutiful public service. I wonder if it’s prophetic?”

Something was different about Doc’s face, but I couldn’t figure out what. “How did you get stuck in that bubble?” I asked.

“Someone trapped me.”

“But who?”

“I didn’t see—they came up behind me. One of the librarians, I think. I was in my office.”

“So Mr. Stone was right! He told us not to trust the librarians. He told us not to trust
you,
” I said.

“I bet it’s Ms. Minnian,” said Aaron.

“Why,” I said, “because she wears her hair in a bun?”

“Because she never smiles.”

“I would hate to think it was Lucy—or Martha, or any of them,” said Doc. “But I’m afraid it probably is. I imagine Wallace Stone had some hold over whoever it was.”

I stared at Doc’s face. Doc’s freckles! That was what was different—they were gone.

“We’re safe here for the moment,” continued Doc, freckle free. “Let’s deal with Anjali and Marc first.”

“Let me do it,” said Andre. He ran over to the brass figurine and hit it with the enchanter’s nightshade. Nothing happened.

“Good try, Andre, but it’s not that kind of spell,” said Doc.

“Enchanted princes and princesses are a special case.”

“How do we disenchant them?” I asked.

“The customary method is the Kiss of True Love.”

Aaron and I looked at each other. “You better kiss Anjali,” I said.

“If you kiss Marc.”

“Elizabeth! Are you in love with Merritt too?” said Jaya.

“Even though he’s dating my sister?”

“No!” I said. “Anjali’s my friend, and Marc—well, Marc’s a prince. I would never dream . . .”

“Go ahead, kiss him,” said Aaron. “You know you love him. All girls do.”

“You first,” I said.

“Both at once, when I count to three,” said Jaya. “One, two . . .”

I lifted Marc, hot with embarrassment. In spite of being a little brass weight, he looked so much like himself that it felt like one of those dreams where you’re doing something you would never do in real life with someone . . . well, one of those dreams.

“Three!”

I closed my eyes and kissed. The metal was cold on my lips.

I opened my eyes. The brass figurine of Marc hadn’t changed.

Aaron was holding the puppet Anjali. “Did you kiss her?” I asked him.

“You weren’t lying. You really don’t . . . ,” he said.

“Did you kiss Anjali?” I asked again.

“No, not yet.”

“Cheater! What are you waiting for?”

“I was watching you. I wanted to see if—I wanted to know—”

“Go on, Aaron! Kiss my sister already! I want her back,” said Jaya impatiently. “Even though she’s really annoying and bossy,” she added.

Aaron shrugged and lifted the puppet to his lips.

I found I was holding my breath.

He kissed Anjali.

Nothing happened. She stayed a puppet.

I let out my breath slowly. My heart, I discovered, was pounding. Aaron looked at me. I looked away.

“Not just any kiss will work,” Doc said, “only the Kiss of True Love.”

“Great,” I said. Despite myself, I felt my heart soar. Aaron didn’t truly love Anjali after all! “The Kiss of True Love—where are we going to find
that
?”

“The Marc Merritt fan club?” suggested Aaron.

“He said the Kiss of True Love, not the Kiss of Puppy Love,” I said.

“What if Andre kisses Marc?” I asked. “He really does love him.”

“That won’t work,” said Aaron. “He already did, and it didn’t. We need the Kiss of True Love, not the Kiss of Brotherly Love.”

“You know who loves Anjali and Merritt? They love
each other
!” said Jaya. She picked up the two figurines and smushed their faces together. “Mwah, mwah, MWAH!” she shouted.

“Oh, like
that’s
going to work,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, wait—look!” Aaron grabbed my arm.

The air around Anjali and Marc grew thicker, like a fog of diamonds. I felt the rose stir in my hair. A smell of roses filled the air, as if all the roses in the Garden of Seasons had hurried over to watch. Colors swirled in the mist. It intensified, slowly, slowly, until I could hardly stand to look, and just as slowly it dispersed.

There stood Marc and Anjali, full size, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. They looked perfectly human—or, at least, as human as a couple in love can look.

Chapter 26:

The willpower of a librarian

“Butter!” Andre threw himself at Marc’s legs. Marc looked down. He didn’t say anything, just opened his arms wide and swept Andre up in a huge hug, grinning his head off. What I felt for Marc might not be true love, but I had to admit he was incredibly handsome, especially with that smile on his face.

Marc turned to Jaya. “Thank you,” he said.

“Yes, good job, kid,” said Anjali, hugging her sister. “Although I could have done with a
lot
less of the whole moving-me-around-like-a-puppet thing.”

“I liked you as a puppet,” said Jaya. “And you have to admit I’m a good puppet master. You would still be a puppet if I weren’t.”

“Welcome back, both of you,” said Doc.

“Thank you,” said Marc. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Aaron. I, um, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. You tried to save me from Badwin back there. I owe you.” It’s hard to look dignified and repentant with a crowing three-year-old on your shoulders, but he did it.

“Yeah, well,” said Aaron. He sounded embarrassed. “It didn’t work, did it?”

“That’s not the point. She could have killed you. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, Aaron,” said Anjali. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He turned bright red and looked at me.

I felt a sudden breeze, as if I were fainting.

“Elizabeth, watch out!” Jaya yelled.

The enormous bird had opened its eyes and leapt out of the tree straight at me. I ducked and threw my arms over my face. It landed on my shoulder—it was like having a motorcycle land on you—and reached for my head with its vast, hooked beak.

I was too scared even to scream. I shut my eyes. Why hadn’t I left well enough alone? The bird was dying before I helped it. Was this my reward?

It was taking the bird an awfully long time to tear me to pieces. I peeked at it.

“Crawk,” it said. With its vicious beak, it began gently combing my hair.

“You seem to have made a friend, Elizabeth,” said Doc.

The bird looked at me with one yellow eye. It was the size of a cereal bowl.

“I expect she likes being scratched under the chin,” said Doc.

“But its neck—her neck,” I said. “She’s hurt.”

I was wrong. The wound was gone. My fingers found nothing but soft feathers.

“You washed her wound with fountain water, didn’t you? The water here has healing powers.”

“Creek,” said the bird softly, taking my earlobe in its beak and twirling my earring around with its tongue. It tickled.

“You’re kind of heavy, bird. And that tickles. Dr. Rust, what
is
this bird?”

“I’m not sure, probably a crossbreed. She looks like a roc, only a whole lot smaller.”

“Smaller!” It was the biggest bird I’d ever seen, or even heard of.

Doc nodded. “Rocs are the size of a house—a big one. Our friend here would fit nicely in a Manhattan studio apartment. And she has those scallops on her wings and the pink cere. A cross between a roc and a parakeet, maybe.”

“A parakeet? Those little birds they sell for ten dollars at the pet shop?”

Doc nodded.

“You’re a pretty big parakeet,” I told the bird.

“Crock,” she agreed.

“That still tickles.”

“Why is Polly being nice now, when she tried to kill us before?” asked Jaya. “Isn’t this the monster bird that was chasing you?”

“Wallace Stone must have put her under a spell, and the fountain water must have broken it,” said Doc.

“But why was she following me?” asked Anjali.

“I bet Mr. Stone sent her to try to kidnap you, to sell you to collectors,” I said.

“Could be,” said Dr. Rust. “Or to throw us off his trail so we wouldn’t guess he was the thief. I’m ashamed to say it worked. I really believed he was on our side. That reminds me. Where’s that
kuduo
?”

“Here,” said Marc.

“Thanks.” Doc took the lid off, said a few words I couldn’t quite make out, and tipped the contents out on the grass. “Let’s see if we can figure out who trapped me in that bubble. I bet Wallace Stone was using something in here to control them.”

The contents piled up in a shining mound. I saw my sense of direction—bright, complex, and embarrassing—come tumbling out. “Oh!” I said, before I could stop myself.

Andre banged on his brother’s shoulders. “Let me down,” he said. Marc swung him to the grass, and Andre ran over to look at my sense of direction. He reached out one hand and poked it. I felt momentarily dizzy.

“Don’t worry, Elizabeth,” said Doc. “With Wallace out of the picture, I’m sure we’ll find that comb, so you can get your sense of direction back.”

The flow of
kuduo
contents slowed. Doc shook the box a little and pulled out something flat and dark, then something fluffy like cotton candy, then something sharp, which he put down carefully on the grass. Something shining oozed out next. It looked infinitely vulnerable and undefined, like a thought before you put it into words. “Oh!” said Aaron, chokingly.

“So that’s your firstborn! I can’t believe you traded
that
for the Snow White mirror.” I still felt shocked by this.

Aaron bristled. “Not traded! It was a deposit—and not for the mirror, for the chance to save Anjali! I thought it would be safe!”

“It is,” Doc reassured him. “You kept the mirror safe, right? Then there shouldn’t be a problem getting it back . . . Ah, here we go, I think.”

Something hard and angular clattered out of the
kuduo.
It lay on the grass, denting the dandelions. Doc picked it up and twisted it this way and that.

“What is it?” asked Anjali.

“Somebody’s willpower.”

“Whose?”

“I’m not sure—I expect it belongs to whoever locked me up in that bubble. We’ll find out soon. I’ll use it to summon them. They have to obey whoever controls their willpower.” Doc wrapped a corner of the thing around a finger and pulled it tight. “Okay, they’re on their way now.”

“Here?” I asked.

Doc nodded.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” asked Anjali.

“Oh, I doubt they wanted to hurt me. Their willpower was in Wallace Stone’s hands, and now it’s in mine. I won’t let them hurt anyone. Who has the Golden Key? Aaron? Would you mind letting whoever it is through the gate?”

“Not at all,” said Aaron.

“Meanwhile, perhaps the rest of you could put this stuff back in the
kuduo,
since I have my hands full.” Doc gestured with the willpower.

“I’ll do it,” said Jaya eagerly. She began picking things up and stuffing them indiscriminately into the
kuduo.

“Gently, Jaya. Some of that stuff is . . . sensitive.”

Anjali and I went over to help. I found it uncomfortable work. Every one of the objects alarmed me, some so much that I hesitated to touch them. Jaya had no such scruples.

“What is this?” she asked, holding up a long, translucent, sweater-shaped thing. I had trouble focusing on it.

“Is that the elusive cloak of invisibility?” I asked.

“No, somebody’s sense of privacy, I think,” said Doc.

“I wonder how it works?” said Jaya, turning it inside out and poking at the folds.

“Quit it, Jaya! That’s none of your business,” I said.

She laughed—“It obviously doesn’t belong to
you
! Your sense of privacy is working just fine!”—and tucked it into the
kuduo.

“I’m helping too,” announced Andre. He picked up corners of things and held them out.

“Thanks, Andre,” I said, gathering up the rest of something large and orange and stuffing it into the
kuduo.
It didn’t look like it would fit, but it did.

“Oh, there’s Aaron’s firstborn,” said Anjali.

“Baby,” said Andre, poking it with one finger.

“I’ll deal with that,” I said, quickly scooping it up. I held it for a minute before sliding it into the
kuduo.
It trembled a little—or was that me?

“And here’s your sense of direction,” said Anjali, holding it out to me. It whirled over the edges of her fingers.

“Would you mind dealing with it? It makes me light-headed just to look at it.”

“Of course.” She folded it neatly and fitted it into the
kuduo.

In a little while, Aaron’s head appeared on the other side of the fountain. He walked toward us, ducking under the two waterspouts. Somebody was with him. We all sat up straight.

“Martha,” said Doc, holding up the willpower. “Is this yours?”

“Oh! You got it back! Thank heaven!” Ms. Callender almost threw herself at Doc, then stopped and looked around at us uncomfortably.

“Please sit down, Martha.” Dr. Rust sounded stern but not angry.

She sat awkwardly on the grass. Her round face was wreathed in worry.

“Did you leave this as a deposit? I didn’t find a slip,” said Doc, gesturing with the willpower.

She grimaced, but she didn’t say anything.

“Oh, I get it. You can’t answer me. Wallace Stone must have put a curb on your tongue. Let me fix that.” Doc twisted the will back the other way.

Ms. Callender sighed and relaxed. “That’s much better! Thanks, Lee.”

“So, can you talk now? About Wallace, I mean.”

“I think so.”

“What happened to the call slip, then?”

“I filled one out and filed it, but Wallace made me tear it up when he got the
kuduo
and got his hands on my will,” said Ms. Callender. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea . . .”

“None of us did.” Doc held up the willpower. “What was this a deposit for?”

“That’s almost the worst part. It’s so embarrassing.” Ms. Callender hesitated. I felt so bad for her, I wanted to hide. Why should she have to confess in front of all of us?

But Doc said, “Go on,” and she did.

“It was Table-Be-Set, the French one. I thought I was being so smart! I set my will to restraint and left it in the
kuduo,
where I couldn’t change it. That way I could eat delicious food, but I wouldn’t overdo it. It was supposed to be a diet plan.”

“A diet. I guess that makes sense.”

Ms. Callender nodded sadly. “It was working too, until Wallace Stone got his hands on my will. He still has that nasty sense of humor. I’ve been eating corn chips nonstop ever since—and I don’t even like corn chips.”

“What happened to the table, do you know? I assume he took it?” Doc asked.

“It should be easy to find out, if we can only catch him. He keeps meticulous records. He has a lot of powerful things. We have to stop him!”

“Don’t worry—the pages caught him already. Elizabeth led him to Grace’s place and stranded him there.”

“You did? You angel!” She gave me a big hug.

“Anytime,” I said, embarrassed.

“So can you find the objects he stole from the Grimm Collection?” asked Doc.

Ms. Callender nodded. “I saw his records—he was making me help with the paperwork. He sold a lot of the objects, but he kept track of where they went. It might take a while, but the lawyers should be able to get them back—we have a clear title.”

“How did he do it?” asked Anjali. “We couldn’t figure out whether he was stealing the magic out of the objects or replacing them with copies.”

“He used a dereifier. At least, he did before he got ahold of my will. The latest few objects he just made me steal from the collection, but the earlier ones, before he got his hands on the
kuduo
this morning, he had his interns borrow them from the collection and then he copied them with the dereifier.”

“What about Zandra, the page who got fired? Was she working for him?”

“Yes. He was mad that she failed the Grimm Collection key test. She only had access to the stacks, not the Special Collections.”

“What about Mona Chen?” asked Doc.

Ms. Callender shook her head. “He tried to get her to work for him. He threatened to get her family deported, but she refused and disappeared with them. I imagine they’re hiding. He was furious about that too.”

“That’s a relief,” said Doc. “We’ll have to figure out a way to let her know it’s safe to come back.”

“So he just told you all this?” I asked. “Wasn’t he worried you’d try to stop him?”