Chapter Twenty Three
Daphne
The knights make and discard twelve plans on how to reach the Living Library without being detected as we set a fast pace through Far Far Away and approach the Hallows. I’m not good with plans; I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-panties kind of murderous maiden.
Genie appears before us with his hands over his eyes. “Are you decent?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask.
“I tried checking in earlier, but you were occupied. By various males.”
Theo chuckles from behind me while my cheeks heat and my heart races. I’m not embarrassed, but I can’t think about what we did and not get worked up. “We’re all decent,” I reassure him.
“Sadly,” Theo whispers in my ear. “At least for now.”
Genie drops his hands. “Excellent. We’re going to need a warning system, because no amount of therapy is erasing that visual.”
I shrug. “I’m not apologizing for doing something that comes naturally. Where’s my broom?”
Genie swipes a hand down his face, making his wispy chin beard curl down before snapping back up. “He’s, er, started courting someone.”
What? The knights and I stare at Genie and wait for him to explain.
“There was an incident with a bottle of berry wine. It was spilled.”
“Okay, following you so far.”
“Sir Sweeps-A-Lot tried to clean it, but as you know, he’s not designed for liquids. He’s more of a dust and dirt kind of sidekick.”
Actually, he’s neither. He’s a magical artifact meant to complement the way I shape the narrative. But potato, potahto.
“Still with you,” I urge.
Genie palms the back of his neck. “I have a mop for these situations. Golly Miss Molly. So she swoops in and clears up the mess, and he attached himself to her. They’ve been inseparable since.”
“I have no words,” Hart grumbles.
I grin. My broom is in love. We all need that in our lives—a reminder of what we’re fighting for.
“You’re just bitter that he has a more successful love life than you,” I taunt.
“Truth.” Genie rolls his eyes. “Glad to see you are almost back and almost whole.”
What does he mean? I have my dragon, and my dark knight finally claimed me and showed me threefold. Both last night and again this morning. He definitely claimed another first.
“Can you tell us which Idols are in the library?” Nash asks before this descends into a sausage fest.
Theo huffs a laugh against my neck.
Genie squints and holds up a finger. “Hold on.” He poofs out.
I glance around. Nope, he definitely disappeared. “What are we holding on for?”
Theo shrugs. “Who knows? I’ve learned to roll with it.”
I agree. It’s less complicated and comes with a lack of expectations.
Genie reappears. “I have good news and bad news. What do you want to hear first?”
“Good,” I reply at the same time all the brothers chorus, “Bad.”
Genie waves off the knights in favor of my preference. “The good news is they are no longer moping around the library making a spectacle of themselves and scaring the bunkum poop out of folks insane enough to loiter nearby.”
“That is good news,” I agree. “Makes getting into the Living Library much easier.”
“And now the bad,” Hart demands.
He winces. “The bad news is there are more Idols in the castle than ever, and they have taken up residence in the great hall, various chambers, and the courtyard. You can’t turn a corner without running into an Idol bossing someone around or making a crazy demand.
It’s exhausting. Everyone has been sucked into a game, but nobody knows the rules. ”
“Which Idols?” Nash repeats, as if the news of the Idol invasion is nothing more than an inconvenience.
Genie rises to hover before us as our horses continue their trek.
The steady clip-clop of their hooves would be lulling if I wasn’t fretting about murderous Idols and disastrous intent.
Also, the heat radiating from Theo is increasing in intensity.
I think it’s his dragon pushing back against him wanting to confirm I’m here, breathing, alive.
“Well, we have the Beast,” Genie starts.
“In beast form or prince?” I wonder.
“Beast. There’s lots of snarling and not a lot of sense from that one. He’s declared the armory as his quarters and is vetting the Belles.”
“Who else?” Malachi asks.
Genie scratches his chin as if he’s mentally flipping through a very inconvenient fairy-tale catalogue.
“The Evil Queen from Snow White has claimed the west tower and has decreed all apples will now be sanctioned by her.”
“She’s poisoning them?” I ask.
“No,” Genie sighs. “It’s more that some aren’t while some are, meaning you take your life in your hands if you take a bite. But that’s not the worst part.”
“How much lower can one stoop than terrorizing the fruit?” I wonder. “Wait, if the apples are cooked and smushed, are they still dangerous?”
“I’m failing to see your point,” Hart grumbles.
“Apple pie, apple crumbles, and other apple things. Does the cooking process remove the poison?”
“I’ll get back to you on that,” Genie replies.
“The worst part,” Nash reminds Genie.
“She’s holding mirror interviews. Every reflective surface in the castle must now confirm that she is the fairest in the land. The land of reflection is in uproar.”
Hart snorts. “What does Eron have to say about this?”
“A lot,” Genie mutters. “But not much of it makes sense. He’s more cracked than normal.”
I frown and make a note to check in with Eron the tempo we are safe in the Living Library. I haven’t seen my faithful friend in too many turns.
“Next?” Nash prompts.
Genie raises a finger. “Captain Hook.”
Theo groans. “Of course, there’s a pirate.”
“He’s taken the moat and installed cannons while declaring the swans are enemy vessels. He keeps shouting about a crocodile conspiracy.”
“Mr. Tick is back?” I ask.
“Not currently.”
“Shame. I really like that guy.”
“No more sidekicks,” Theo grumbles. “It’s hard enough keeping on top of the ones you already claimed.”
He and Nash did a fabulous job of keeping on top last night.
“Careful, pretty mouse, I only have so much restraint when your thoughts turn dirty.”
Genie continues, “The Big Bad Wolf is here as well.”
Malachi sighs like a man who has fought too many wolves already. We’ve met variations of the wolf, but none of them have been bad. It’s a misnomer.
“What’s he doing?” I ask.
“Running security checks,” Genie replies.
That feels… ominous. For girls in red cloaks?
“How?”
“He keeps huffing and puffing at the castle doors to test their structural integrity.”
Oh, he’s that wolf.
Theo chuckles into my hair. “At least someone is thinking about fortifications.”
“Unfortunately,” Genie adds, “he’s also eaten two footmen and a decorative goose.”
“That goose had dreams,” I whisper. “If he dares even look at my capons, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“Wasn’t aware of your friendship with a goose,” Malachi says with a smirk.
I shrug. “All creatures have dreams, even if I’ve never met them.”
Genie raises another finger. “Rumpelstiltskin.”
Every knight groans.
“Where is he?” Nash asks.
“Everywhere,” Genie growls. “He’s wandering the corridors, offering deals.”
“What kind of deals?” Hart asks.
“Your firstborn for access to the kitchens.”
Are the kitchens still making sausages? Because in all fairness, you can always have more children.
“Three years of your life for a better mattress.”
Can’t fault him for recognizing the importance of a great sleep.
“Someone traded their shadow for a cinnamon bun this morning.”
I clutch my chest. “A cinnamon bun?”
Genie nods. “Still warm from the oven.”
“That’s a dangerous man,” I whisper.
“Correct.” He lifts another finger. “The Witch from Oz.”
Theo perks up. “Which one?”
“East. She’s a tad dramatic. She’s taken the gardens and declared war on anyone carrying water.”
“That feels like a design flaw,” I say.
“Yes,” Genie agrees. “The gardeners are currently negotiating with buckets hidden under their coats.”
“Who else?” Malachi asks.
Genie counts again. “The Queen of Hearts.”
The horses all shudder, as do we. Not a fan. Do not recommend. Life is bound to get weird when Wonderland spills into The Hallows.
“She’s converted the courtyard into a croquet field and keeps sentencing people to beheading for stepping on the grass. She and the witch have declared themselves archenemies.”
Hart blinks. “Has she actually beheaded anyone?”
“No, but morale is low. And finally… The Pied Piper.”
Everyone goes quiet for a beat.
“Where is he?” Nash asks.
Genie points toward the distant castle. “Roaming the Hallows at night.”
“Doing what?” I ask.
“Recruiting.”
Theo frowns. “Recruiting whom?”
“Rats. Children. Librarians. It’s a mixed bag. Apparently anyone will suffice.”
“That’s unsettling,” I mutter.
Genie claps his hands together. “Those are the current eight Idols occupying the castle.”
“Beast, Evil Queen, Hook, Wolf, Rumpelstiltskin, Witch, Queen of Hearts, and Piper,” Nash summarizes.
“Correct.”
Malachi rubs his temples. “That’s not a castle; that’s a nightmare carnival.”
“Exactly,” Genie exclaims.
The horses keep moving as the Hallows grows closer, its towers rising like jagged teeth against the sky.
I stare at the distant spires. “So how are we supposed to reach the Living Library without being eaten, cursed, beheaded, recruited, drowned, exploded, or forced to compliment someone’s cheekbones?”
Theo presses his chin to my shoulder. “We enter through the old servant tunnels beneath the kitchens.”
Genie nods. “That could work.”
Malachi leans forward in his saddle. “The tunnels lead under the great hall and emerge behind the east staircase.”
Good to know, because I have no idea where any of that is.
Nash continues. “From there, we cross the corridor behind the portrait gallery.”
There’s a gallery? How boring.
“We’ll have to avoid the courtyard, since that’s where the Queen of Hearts is playing murder croquet,” Theo adds.
I agree—murder is best avoided.
“Then we slip into the archive wing,” Hart finishes.
The what? I swear they’re making this up.
Genie claps once. “And voilà. The Living Library.”
I stare at them. “That plan has a lot of ‘slipping’ and ‘sneaking’ in it.”
“Yes,” Nash drawls.
“None of those things are my strengths.”
Theo kisses my temple. “We noticed.”
I brighten. “What if we disguise ourselves?”
“How?” Malachi asks with a tilt of his head.
“Well,” I say, as the plan forms in my mind. “What if we pretend to be… performers?”
Genie squints. “Performers.”
“Yes,” I continue, warming to the idea. “A traveling troupe. Knights can juggle. Theo breathes fire. I do interpretive chaos.”
Hart blinks. “That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”
Malachi grins. “I kind of like it.”
“Absolutely not,” Nash says.
Hart sighs. “Daphne.”
“Yes?”
“We are not staging a medieval talent show in the middle of an Idol occupation.”
“That’s quitter talk.”
Genie suddenly goes still, and his wispy bit stops wisping. “Uh.”
“What?” I ask.
He points ahead.
We crest the hill where the road curves, and there, blocking the path to the castle gates, stands a massive, newly laid croquet field stretching across the courtyard. Flaming torches send flickering shadows across the grass, and card soldiers march along the perimeter.
And in the center of it all stands the Queen of Hearts. Her eyes light up like someone handed her a particularly exciting execution. “You there,” she shouts. I cringe as her voice grates against my mind, and her grin widens. “You’ve arrived just in time for the next match.”
The row of card soldiers turn, and every eye in the courtyard locks onto us.
Hart whispers, “Daphne, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
Good news—I’m not thinking at all. Also, I don’t think she recognizes us. Also good news.
“Hello!” I shout with a wave and a beaming fake smile. “Is this where we sign up for the talent show?”
The guys groan.
The Queen of Hearts gasps. “Oh, I like this one,” she says. Then she points her mallet. “Off with their—” The gate slams shut behind us, and the card soldiers march forward. “Heads.”
I should really learn to think.