Chapter Two

From Faeries to Farewells

Midnight rolled into the darkened world, the night shadowed even more heavily by the new moon. As a musty breeze blew down the country road outside, the inn door swung open and everyone's attention was drawn to the new denizen.

She was very short and appeared to be around the age of fourteen. Her long, golden hair fell in a braid down to her waist, pulled back to reveal a round face of pale skin and dark, black eyes. It was not so much her appearance that caught everyone's attention, as the fact that there was a sable fox perched on her shoulder, its tail draped around her neck like a scarf.

The maiden walked confidently to the bar, either oblivious or tastefully ignoring the stares. She climbed onto a barstool and set her travel pack on the seat next to her. The barman was occupied in the back room she so sat in wait, and gradually the spectators lost interest and returned to their previous attentions.

"Who is she?" Jakob wondered rhetorically. Cavaldi and Wilhelm both shook their heads in bewilderment. "Have you ever seen her before?"

"No," Wilhelm answered. "She's obviously travelled a ways. Look at the state of her clothing and her pack."

"Hamelin," a feminine voice said, and the men looked up to see the young girl staring at them. "If you wish to talk about someone I advise you lower your voice."

"And I advise you not to listen in on conversations that you are not a part of," Wilhelm replied.

"But I was, Mister Grimm," the girl countered. "I was the topic of the conversation and therefore I was the basis for its very existence."

Wilhelm stared at her in shock, struck dumb by such logic from a young child. "Who are you?"

"Who I am is my own business, but my name is Lorita," the girl supplied. Without asking she slid off her stool, gathered her pack, and then perched on the empty chair between Jakob and Cavaldi.

"How did you know my name?" Wilhelm asked, suspicion etched on his face.

"Your feats are known across all of Germany," Lorita said sarcastically. "How could I not? Besides, we have had the misfortune to meet before."

"We have?" Wilhelm asked, taken aback. "When?"

"You and your brother rid my village, Waldämon, of a troll many years ago," Lorita answered primly. "I was the daughter of the woodsman who stumbled across your so-called troll."

"Impossible," Jakob said. "You are far too young to be her. If so, you wouldn't have grown a day since we were there."

"True," Lorita agreed, "but there is a significant difference between growing and ageing While I have not grown more than a few centimetres since we last met, I have aged over seven years. How old do you believe me?"

"You appear no older than thirteen, fourteen at the most," Jakob admitted and was perturbed by the faint smile on the girl's face.

"Would you believe me if I told you that you're wrong by nearly a decade?" Lorita inquired, her lips curved in a sly smirk. Jakob and Cavaldi both gasped but Wilhelm rolled his eyes and snorted sceptically. "I turned twenty-two at the start of the spring."

"How did you achieve such an ability?" Wilhelm asked doubtfully. "Take a tumble into the Fountain of Youth?"

"Hardly," Lorita said shrewdly, eyeing the elder Grimm distastefully. "Although if you had been more polite, I might have been willing to share my tale with you, Mister Grimm." She put unnecessary stress on the title, drawing it out with as much disdain as she could manage.

"Please excuse me," Jakob said suddenly. "I would like a quick word with my brother. Will?"

Wilhelm glared back at Jakob before finally grunting and moving away from the table with him. When they were out of hearing range of Lorita and Cavaldi, Jakob whispered angrily, "What the hell is your problem, Will?"

"The load of nonsense that girl is trying to pull on you," Wilhelm hissed back. "Are you so lost in fantasy that you cannot see what a yarn she's spinning? This is how Lotte died - " Wilhelm stopped abruptly, silenced by the pained look on his younger sibling's face. "I'm sorry, Jake. It's simply…"

"Beans, Will, that's what it is," Jakob responded shortly, his face tight. "That's why you can't stand it. It's beans." With that proclamation Jakob turned on his heel and returned to the table. As Jakob pressed Lorita to tell her story, Wilhelm stayed where he had been left, rubbing his temples and trying to slow his breathing in a futile attempt to suppress the pain he felt.

"Will your sceptical brother be joining us?" Lorita inquired, gazing at Wilhelm with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Wilhelm said, sliding into the seat across from her. He took a quick swig from his mug and then cast mockingly attentive eyes on the small woman.

Lorita cleared her throat. "I am so small because I'm part-faerie." The men at the table drew a collective breath. "My father never married, but more than anything he wanted a child. One day in the forest he was drowsing, and when he awoke he saw a faerie lying on the ground near his foot. The faerie told him that if he would split his lunch with her, then she would grant his dearest wish. He agreed and when he told the faerie what he wanted, she produced a golden seen from her pouch.

"'Plant this seed and very soon a tree shall grow. It will grow far more quickly than ordinary trees, so by the mid-summer festivals it will be a fully matured tree. In the autumn, when the very last leaf falls from its branches and no sooner than that, take your axe and split the tree down its length. Inside you shall discover your wish. Mind your patience however, for if you do not wait for the last leaf to fall you will become part of the tree.'

"With this final statement, the faerie flew away. My father hurried home and planted the golden seed near the house. Every day he watered it and kept the area around it firmly free of weeds. The faerie's words came true, and by summer the laurel tree was as tall as any in the forest. Finally the day came when the very last leaf sailed to the ground and he went to the tree.

"Aware that his only child could be inside the tree he swung softly, and the bark crumbled around his blows. He created a ridge in the trunk from branches to the ground before dropping his axe Then he slid his fingers into this crack and pulled the bark away with his own fingers. When he reached the centre of the tree he found me, a small child, a year in age and no bigger than his forearm.

"He cared for me well and loved me so dearly, even though as the years progressed I grew very little. Many of the other children made fun of me because of my size and most parents feared me because they knew I wasn't – normal – but he always stood by me and told me that I was a priceless treasure, a magical gift that kept him alive.

"I believed it right up until the day he died."

"How did he die?" Jakob asked, forgetting his manners in the thrill of the story.

"He went into the forest one day to gather wood and never returned. When I went in after him the next day, I found his axe, his clothing, and the necklace I had made for him at the age of six. He had not taken it off since I had given it to him and that's when I knew he was dead." The fox on her shoulder whimpered sadly and the three men twitched. Each of them had forgotten her strange pet.

"Although as I grieved in the woods where my father had vanished, this fox came to me. He was not afraid of me, nor I of him, and when I left the woods he came with me. He has journeyed with me since that day, although when we enter towns he sits on my shoulder for his own safety." Lorita smiled and stroked the fox affectionately.

"He's a beautiful creature," Jakob observed. "Does he have a name?"

"Baldwinn," Lorita answered.

Jakob nodded approvingly. "That's a good name."

"It was also my father's name," Lorita added and smiled as the fox nudged her cheek with its muzzle.

Wilhelm looked at the fox and noticed that there was a pendant hung around its throat. He leaned in to see it more closely, trying to make out the design on the pendant, but the fox lifted its hackles and growled. "Not friendly," he mumbled, leaning back in his chair.

Lorita lifted a hand and patted the fox's head, trying to soothe it. Baldwinn continued to stare at him furiously but quit snarling. "He is a very good judge of character, Mister Grimm." Lorita continued to stare at him for long moments after she finished speaking, her black eyes drilling into him with piercing accuracy.

Wilhelm squirmed slightly under her gaze, but more than unease he felt a growing anger welling up inside him. Who was this insolent girl to come here, interrupt his celebrations with her stories, and continual insult him in front of his friends? What was her problem? What made her so special that she could come and ridicule someone of his calibre After all he had been through, didn't he deserve some amount of respect, not incessant scorns from fanciful children?

"I should be-a going," Cavaldi said suddenly. While Wilhelm turned to the distraction, Lorita kept her gaze on the elder Grimm. "I have-a much work to do in the morning. It was good to see-a you Grimm-ies again. And to meet-a you, signorina Lorita."

"Likewise, Mister – " Lorita stopped, a queer smile on her face. "My apologies, but it seems I have yet to catch your name."

"Signor Mercurio Cavaldi," the Italian said with a slight bow.

"Cavaldi?" Lorita inquired. "The torturer?"

"In-a the past," Cavaldi assured her. "My career-a has changed."

"Glad to hear it," the young woman smiled. "Well it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, signor Cavaldi."

"Buona sera, signorina." Cavaldi inclined his head one last time and then departed.

"Unfortunately I must leave as well," Jakob sighed. "I promised Angelika I wouldn't be too late."

"I will come as well," Wilhelm said quickly.

"Thank you for your story, miss," Jakob said to Lorita, ignoring his brother. "It was an enchanting tale. Good-night."

"Good-night, Messrs. Grimm," Lorita replied, curtsying slightly in Jakob direction but avoiding looking at Wilhelm. The elder Grimm inclined his head but said nothing. In seconds he was at the inn doors and had vanished into the night.

"I must apologize for my brother," Jakob said awkwardly, eyeing the closed door shortly before turning to Lorita. "I don't know what was with him tonight. He's not usually so brisk, at least not with anyone but me."

"No apology needed," Lorita replied, "and if one was needed it would be from him, not you. Meaning no offence of course."

"Of course," Jakob echoed. This girl's logic was alien to him. "Good-night." With that he exited the inn to find Wilhelm standing outside, waiting for him. Wilhelm's hands were jammed into his pits, attempting to stave off the cold that had come with the moonrise. He looked especially grumpy.

"Took you long enough," the elder Grimm complained. They started together down the long road homeward.

"What was your problem tonight, Will?" Jakob asked abruptly. Wilhelm didn't answer, head bent against the bitter night chill. "Why don't you like Lorita? I had thought you would be interested in her story, now that you're writing your own."

"Do I need a reason for everything?" Wilhelm grumbled. This caught Jakob unawares; Wilhelm was constantly looking for reason behind everything. "And who said that I didn't like her?"

"You weren't very subtle about it," Jakob replied simply. "Was it because of her story?"

"Why can't you let it drop, Jake?" Wilhelm exclaimed, stopping suddenly in the middle of the road. Jakob halted as well and faced his brother, startled.

"It was rude, the way you treated her," Jakob answered, his voice rising likewise. "I want to know why."

"She's just another faerie tale!" Wilhelm bellowed. "She's another story, drawing you in like they all do. They can't all be true, Jake! We know better than anyone that lies like these can be conceived easily."

"And we know better than anyone that they can also be true," Jakob cried, his voice trembling. "Are you still trying to deny what happened in the forest?"

"How could I, Jake?" Wilhelm asked loudly. "Damn it, I almost died in there. How could I deny that?"

Jakob flinched, the guilt that was always brimming beneath the surface suddenly surging forward away. It was Jakob's hand that had driven the knife into his brother's heart. When the queen's magic had forced them to face each other, Wilhelm had trusted Jakob to fight it. Jakob had tried, but the power proved to be too strong and it had nearly cost his brother's life.

Wilhelm was surprised to see tears glinting on Jakob's cheeks. Did he really care that much about his feelings toward Lorita? That couldn't be it; there had to be more to it.

"Jakob, what is this about?" Wilhelm asked gently. Jakob removed his glasses and rubbed his wet cheeks. "This isn't about the girl anymore, is it?"

Like a dejected child, Jakob shook his head. As he opened his mouth to speak however, Wilhelm groaned and his hand shot to his chest, directly above his heart. Forgetting his problems, Jakob rushed to Wilhelm's side and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Will? What's the matter?" Jakob asked, slightly frantic. Wilhelm shook his head, hand pressed against his chest where, beneath his shirt, he could feel the knotted scar. It felt as though a red-hot spear had been thrust into his heart, burning the old wound open. The pain continued to intensify, coming in great waves, each stronger than the last. Wilhelm finally summoned up enough breath to gasp and collapsed to his knees, clawing at his chest.

"Will, what is it? Jakob asked. Wilhelm continued to clasp his hand over his chest. Hoping to find an answer, Jakob gripped Wilhelm's tunic and, with a wrenching noise, tore it open. The scar over Wilhelm's heart was swollen and glowed bright white. Wilhelm had clawed furrows in his flesh and thin tendrils of blood began to stain his skin.

"We need to get you to a doctor," Jakob said quickly. "This isn't right." Filled with a strength he didn't possess, Jakob lifted one of Wilhelm's arms over his shoulder and hoisted the elder Grimm to his feet. Wilhelm was nearly incapable of independent movement so Jakob half-walked, half-dragged his brother down the street.

Wilhelm found it difficult to breathe through the pain. Soon his mind began to get fuzzy and his vision clouded. A few steps later, his legs gave out underneath him and he slumped against Jakob's side. With the unexpected weight Jakob overbalanced and they both fell to the ground in a heap.

"This isn't going to work," Jakob mumbled to himself, not even noting how badly his voice and body were shaking. "We need help." He looked desperately around the deserted street. What was he expecting? It was well into the early hours of the morning. Unwilling to leave his brother for even a moment he did the only other thing he could think of.

"HELP!" Jakob wailed. He continued to scream into the night sky, hope filling his chest as he saw a few lights ignite behind the nearby curtains. Abruptly something grasped his arm in a tight, claw-like grip. Jakob glanced down to find Wilhelm clinging to his forearm, eyes locked on his face.

"Will? What is it?" Jakob asked, removing the hand from his arm and clasping it tightly in his own. Wilhelm kept opening his mouth to speak but every time he did the pain in his heart strengthened and no sound escaped his lips.

"Jake." The word came out as a gasp but Jakob could tell that his brother was trying to tell him something important. Wilhelm took a deep breath. "Sorry," he said shortly.

"Sorry? What for?" Jakob asked.

"Beans," Wilhelm said, a faint smile covering his face before it was chased away by another spasm in his chest.

"Don't be sorry, Will," Jakob said, his body quivering with sobs.

"May not show it…" he stopped as convulsions tormented his body. Finally they abated and he started again. "Not show, but I - love –"

The most horrible attack yet seized Wilhelm and his back arched, bowing his body up off the ground. He fought for breath as an iron fist seemed to close around his heart, pressing the ghost of the blade deeper. Faintly, as though from a great distance, he could hear Jakob's terrified voice and the murmur of others. Wilhelm's vision turned black, his thinking became sluggish, and he felt himself slipping away from consciousness. An enormous pressure lifted from him, releasing him from the prison of his body...

Jakob began shouting Wilhelm's name hysterically as he saw his sibling's eyes slide out of focus. Wilhelm's body began relaxing, although the scar on his chest continued to shine malevolently. When Wilhelm went limp in his brother's arms, his eyes peering pointlessly at the sky, Jakob felt his own heart stop in his chest.

"Will?" Jakob asked, unwilling to accept what he was seeing. He placed a hand on Wilhelm's chest, praying for some sign of life, but the heart within his chest was still. The dark truth began to sink in as Jakob gazed at the still face of his older brother. Wilhelm was gone.

Jakob's grief was far beyond tears. His chest felt empty, as if his heart had simply disappeared. He lifted a shaking hand and gently closed Wilhelm's sightless eyes. Then he cradled Wilhelm's body to his own, rocking on his heels. Behind him, he could hear the villagers who had come to help him, milling around and murmuring to each other.

What had happened? Jakob couldn't figure what had caused this. It must have been something about the scar, the one the mirror queen had left on him. Not just her, the dark side of Jakob's conscious reminded him. You contributed as much, if not more so, than she did."

A faint hiss reached Jakob's ears, but it didn't immediately register in his languid mind. It was a full minute later before the realisation sunk in, and Jakob suddenly looked down at Wilhelm's face in disbelief. The older Grimm's lips were slightly parted.

"Impossible," Jakob gasped. He laid hsi brother's body back on the ground, feeling his hopes rise despite his best effort to remain calm. Tentatively, Jakob held his hand above Wilhelm's mouth. He felt the slightest brush of air against his palm. Wilhelm was still breathing.

Grateful tears flooded Jakob's eyes and he began sobbing uncontrollably. One of the nearest villagers knelt at his side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Jakob turned to look at the man and he saw the older man recoil at the wild smile on the younger Grimm's face.

"Mister Grimm?" the man asked cautiously.

"He's alive," Jakob said slowly and then the truth of the words sank in. "He's alive!"