The Grimm Chronicles, Vol. 2 (29 page)

My mind was already elsewhere. “If the last hero’s wish had a catch, then Chase’s wishes probably did, too. And now that the fish has become Corrupted ...” I thought back to the times his legs had given out from under him. Chase’s wishes were like a skinned apple: slowly rotting. “He needs to be stopped before the wishes he granted Chase turn Corrupted, too. We need to kill that fish.”

“Whale,” Briar corrected.

“Whatever!” I bent down, tearing away the colorful Turkish rug so I had a smooth drawing surface. “Quick! Grab those two harpoons hanging on the wall.”

“Ah! A plan.” The rabbit hopped to the other side of the room behind the captain’s old desk, pulling the long harpoons off the hooks holding them up on the wall. They were old, made of wood, and the sharp barbs at the tip were tied to the spear handle with hemp.

Perfect.

“I do hope one of these is for the captain,” Briar murmured, untying the hemp. He pulled the jagged barb out from the groove at the tip of the spear, handing it to me. “I have to say, I can’t quite stand his peculiar dialect.
Thou
and
ye
and the such can be quite confusing.”

“Tell me about it. We’ll deal with the captain after we get the fish,” I said, studying the barb closely. I would need to get the base’s dimensions perfect so it could fit snugly into the groove of the wooden shaft. I drew it once, then twice, then a third time, adjusting the shape each time and pulling my creation out of the floor to study it more closely.

“Got it,” I said, fitting the third hero-ready barb into the groove. I wound the hemp around it, securing it in place with a good old-fashioned shoe knot.

“We should hurry,” Briar said, clicking his tongue.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I never thought I’d be happy to hear your nervous ticks.” I untied the second spear tip, replacing it with another hero-ready barb. “I’m glad you came back.”

“I never left, dear hero.” His mouth cracked into his goofy rabbit smile. “Well, I
did
spend a few days stuck in the downtown library’s massive newspaper archives. My invisibility was on the fritz, no doubt because I was upset, and so it was impossible to escape because they locked up at night …”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just glad to see you, friend.”

His whiskers twitched. “Me too. I take it a little fisticuffs are in order?”

“No.” I grabbed one of the coils of heavy rope sitting next to the door. The captain had no shortage of ropes, all of them stacked beside the old wooden chest next to the door. “They were human, Briar. They might still be, to some extent. Everyone on the ship but the captain.”

“Human!” A paw went to his mouth. One eye narrowed. “But that must mean … that must mean the captain used some kind of spell on them. The captain in the story was no wizard. He must have had help, just like that wretched mistress at the orphanage. Oh dear. Alice, I do fear all of this is connected.”

“We can’t worry about that right now. We need to save these sailors.” I opened the door a crack, peering onto the deck, then tied two coils of rope together with a zeppelin bend, just like Ishmael had taught me in my dreams.

“This is connected with the Order of the Dragon,” Briar said, hopping beside me. “I’m sure of it! And if there’s magic involved, then there is a mage. A wizard, that is. We must be careful.”

“We’ll be
more
than careful, pal.”

He tugged on my shirt. “Er, what are you going to do?”

I turned to him, smiling. “I’m going to tie a rolling hitch.”

Briar gasped as I ran onto the deck. I sprinted quickly between the shadowy sailors. My boots did their ridiculously weird trick, letting me cover twice the distance with each step. The shadowy sailors stopped their work with the sails and came at me. But they couldn’t follow, couldn’t spin quickly enough as I ran around them, wrapping each one in the rope.

“Get her!” cried one. More of the sailors pulled away from their stations around the two tall masts, sending the sails flapping wildly. The boat slowed while I sped up, moving between the sailors, dodging their wild punches by shifting my weight as I moved, just like Briar had trained me. The rope wrapped around each of their bodies, tightening when I reached my next victim.

“Stop her!” Ishmael called out. He was standing beside the foremast, clutching a heavy rope in both hands, unwilling to release it.

I gave the rope a strong pull, tugging them toward one of the loose sail sheets hanging near the center mast. “Come on!” I said, pulling the tangled sailors closer. They obliged, if only to try and get closer and attack me. Some fell, tripping on the rope. I held it tight, tying it to the sheet using a rolling hitch. It immediately grew tighter when the sailors began struggling.

What I ended up with was an impressive length of struggling sausage links.

“Let’s go!” I shouted to Briar, hurrying to the rowboat lashed to the starboard side of the ship. “No time to gawk at my impressive knot skills!”

“I’m more worried about what they’ll do when they untie themselves,” Briar said, hopping over the nearest one.

The sailors would free themselves in time, but I doubted they would bring the ship any closer to the whale. It was more than a hundred yards away, splashing madly along the surface of the water. The captain was already headed toward it in the other rowboat, as I’d expected. He had two cursed sailors rowing for him. They’d already put two spears into the whale, the ropes tied to the fore of boat. But not the spear I’d helped Ahab build. He had that one in his hand, held high in the air as his sailors rowed closer to the whale while it circled the little boat, an anxious spray of water erupting from the blowhole.

I grabbed the spears from the captain’s cabin, then followed Briar to the second boat hanging from the starboard side. My fingers began immediately untying the hitch. To our left, Ishmael finally released the rope he was clutching, sending a massive block of wood from the mast crashing down.

“No!” he called out. “You can’t!”

Briar hopped into the boat. I followed, setting the spears under the bench with the tips carefully pointed away from my furry friend. “You can’t stop us, Ishmael.”

“But I
have
to,” he said, grabbing the ropes that kept the boat tied down. They were run through a winch that was currently locked, although a good kick right to the handle would probably do away with that problem. The boat would crash into the water below and our butts would be sore, but there was no way Ishmael was stopping us now.

“You can fight this,” I said. “You’re not like the other sailors. Not yet.”

He shook his head. His wet hair whipped against his face as the wind picked up. Behind him, the loose sails fluttered. Both masts were cracked, ready to break away if the whale chose to flee the captain and give the ship one more bump.

“Ptoo,” Briar spat. “My mouth was open … I do believe I swallowed some of your hair water!”

“The curse controls me,” Ishmael said. “I cannot let go.”

“But if you let go, I’ll most surely die,” I said. “I’m just a wee lass after all, right? What hope do I have against a terrible white whale?”

Ishmael’s grip loosened. “But … I don’t want you to die. The
curse
wants you to die.”

“Obey your master,” I said. “Let go. It’s the surest way to guarantee I don’t live. And that’s what your captain wants, right?” I held up my hand. Shadows danced over my skin. “I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to, could I?”

“No.” Ishmael sighed, releasing his grip. “The curse has infected you.”

“Alice!” Briar exclaimed. He held out a paw, tracing the path of the shadow as it slithered across my arm. “Black magic,” he whispered.

“Lower us,” I ordered Ishmael.

Ishmael stepped beside the winch, grabbing the iron crank. He lowered the boat a foot, then stopped. “I do hope you survive.”

I smiled. “So do I.”

The boat slowly dropped into the water. We untied the knots and tossed aside the heavy strips of rope; they swung against the hull of the ship, hitting it with a wet crack. Briar grabbed the oars awkwardly with his paws, rowing toward the massive whale that was thrashing near the captain’s boat, pushing him left and right while his shadowy crew attempted to maintain control.

Holy crud, the whale was huge. Every time it thrashed in the water, it sent rolling waves that slipped under our boat and threatened to capsize it. We were still a good fifty yards away when Ahab stood in his boat, raising his terrifying spear. This was it. I knew. I
totally
knew even before he threw the spear that it wasn’t going to be enough to kill the whale … just make it angrier than ever.

The whale’s giant tail breached the surface, then slapped the water. Ahab threw the spear. Rope trailed behind, flapping wildly. The spear landed in the whale’s thick white hide. A burning blackness opened up around the spear.

It spread slowly. Very, very slowly.

“Get us closer!” I ordered Briar, reaching down for the harpoons. We had one spare rope attached to an anchor. I untied it, then tossed the anchor overboard and tied the rope to the blunt end of the harpoon, where some ancient whale hunter had at some point drilled a hole into the wood.

The whale splashed along the surface, sending more waves rolling across the surface of the water. Its tail came down next to Ahab’s boat, and his crew frantically paddled with their oars to keep themselves out of the way of the destruction.

“Why is the creature not trying to escape?” Briar called out.

“I don’t know,” I said, pulling my hair out of my face. “Maybe it knows the captain won’t stop until he’s dead.”

“What are you doing?” Briar asked, turning his head and watching me tie the other end of the rope to a hitch at the front of the boat. He had his back to me so he could paddle in the direction of the whale.

“It’s complicated,” I answered. “Just … try not to worry!”

“Oh, like
that’s
going to happen,” the rabbit muttered.

Ahead of us, the whale thrashed around again, surfacing and clearing water from the blowhole. Its white skin had begun to change color: it was grayer now, and long black lines had begun to appear across its slick surface. It looked as if it was breaking apart.

“What’s happening?” I asked Briar.

“It’s the Corruption!” Briar called out as the whale breached the surface again, landing just a few feet away from Ahab’s boat. The boat rocked and nearly capsized in the resulting waves, sending both sailors scrambling to one side to keep it balanced. “The creature is still changing!”

“Changing into
what
?” I asked.

The waves reached us, splashing against the boat. Briar spit out water and shook his head. “No way to say! Most likely something bigger and meaner!”

“How?”

“It’s complicated!” he answered. “Just try not to worry!”

The whale slipped underneath the water, but before it did I could see the spear sticking in its back. The burning blackness had only spread a bit, barely visible. It would need more. A lot more.

“What’s happening?” Briar asked over his shoulder. “Why is it so quiet all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know.” I narrowed my eyes. We were only twenty yards away from the captain and his boat now. He didn’t acknowledge me; he was more interested in searching the water for his prey. More and more rope was slipping out of his boat and into the water. Wherever the whale had gone, it wasn’t far. The ropes attached to the boat were still slack.

“I have a bad feeling,” Briar said.

“Yeah.” I clutched the first spear. “Me too.”

Suddenly, the rope at the bow of the captain’s boat went taut. His boat lurched forward, nearly knocking him over. It began to move through the water, pulled downward by the whale far below. “Hold her steady!” Ahab ordered his shadowy crew. “Steady, now! It’ll surface. And when it does, I’ll tear my spear from its back and stab it through the heart!”

“Briar, stop,” I ordered. “Back us up just a bit. Holy crud, back us up quick!”

I heard the oars splash in the water. I felt us move backward a few feet. Deep down in the dark water just ahead, I could see the faint glowing form of the whale. The glowing shape was growing bigger and bigger. My heart began racing.

“Faster, Briar!”

“I’m trying!” he called out. “These oars aren’t designed for paws, you know!”

The glowing figure swam closer to the surface. I could see its tail moving up and down furiously. I dropped my harpoon, clutching the side of the boat. “Hold on to something, Briar!”

The whale breached the surface directly in front of us, arcing its back. It seemed to hang there in the sky, cresting in slow-motion, the harpoon firmly lodged between two ribs.

Its shadow seemed to loom over the captain’s boat. His crewmen tossed the oars, diving into the water. Ahab stood at the stern, staring up at the massive creature and baring his rotten teeth. The whale’s body choked off the moonlight, casting Ahab in a dark shadow. When it landed, Ahab disappeared. The boat disappeared. The creature’s body sent up massive waves of water littered with the splintered remains of the boat. The two shadowy sailors swam past us, obviously not all that interested in searching for their captain.