Mingling with the huntsmen wasn't a big deal. They usually rode near the forest and never spoke a word unless necessary, or if Loki ordered them. The Lost Seven used the fact they couldn't uncover each other's cloaks to their advantage. They also smeared their faces with black mud to ensure nothing showed through their cloaks. And, of course, they pulled their cloaks down to hide their eyes, just like all other huntsmen did.
Entering the castle's garden among the other huntsmen, they were shocked by the vastness of the event. The Queen had every artist and performer gathered outside, entertaining everyone. Of course, the elite crowd had been invited inside.
The Lost Seven rode along, not talking, commenting, or nodding. A few feet shy of the castle walls, they got off their horses and lined up among the other huntsmen. Loki, the head of the huntsmen, rode across his crew and said the Queen wanted them to witness an event of a lifetime. Like Fable had been told, he seemed even crueler than before. She wondered if she would see his snarky and silly side when he played bad boy. But this time, Loki didn't smile one bit. He looked almost…heartless.
"Tonight, the Queen of Sorrow, She Who Must Be Obeyed, will consume her daughter's heart," Loki roared, riding his three-eyed unicorn. "Unlike last time, she will succeed today, and I shall kill the daughter myself if her heart weighs as desired."
The huntsmen raised their swords and roared back.
Fable was reluctant to share in such an insulting moment. Although she had previously known about Carmilla's brutality, she was shocked at her bluntness, announcing her intentions publicly with no holding back.
Jack nudged Fable, waking her up from her inner monologue. Fable realized she had been the only one who refrained from hailing. She caught up, but a little too late.
Regrettably, she caught Loki's green eyes.
Fable had no idea Loki could exude this kind of evil when he looked at her. She thought she'd never forget his eyes years later when she had hopefully succeeded in resurrecting him in the real world. A flicker of a memory flashed before her eyes as he rode down and approached her. She remembered her town, Furry Tell, so vividly now. She remembered how she had been born there, and peeked briefly into her real past as a poor girl in the Kingdom of Sorrow. She remembered when he'd tried to kill her when looking for boys and girls with "splinters in their eyes."
Loki approached her, suspicion sparkling in those threatening eyes. Fable couldn't break her gaze. She wanted to, but staring evil in the eyes froze the muscles on her face. How was this the Loki she'd had fun with in the Waking World? He was surely going to kill her. There was no escape. It looked like she was going to get killed by Loki in this dream—or have her identity exposed, at least.
As Loki treaded with ruthless intuition, Fable swallowed a gasp. She saw he had his red Fleece wrapped around his hand.
This is it. This is what I came here for. Could it be that easy?
But how? The moment she saw his Fleece was the same moment he was going to punish her, or expose her, for not hailing at the Princess's demise.
I don't care. Fable finally swallowed. Once he is near enough, I will snatch the Fleece and run away, maybe hide in the forest. Then Alice Grimm should show up there again and help me, right?
"Damn the Queen's daughter!" Jack hailed next to Fable, and raised his sword as a distraction. "Damn the Snow White Princess!" He seemed to partially enjoy it, too. It began to show that he certainly didn't like Snow White. Maybe he just thought of her as a spoiled vampire girl.
The huntsmen, noting Jack's proximity to Loki, thought Jack's rant was based on Loki's orders. So they hailed back. Loud enough to distract him from Fable, who hailed as loudly as she could, "Damn the Snow White Princess!"
Loki, not wanting to criticize his huntsmen's enthusiasm, walked away from Fable and shared their moment.
"Thank you," she whispered to Jack.
"I really wanted him to get close," Jack whispered. "My hands were itching to steal his Fleece."
Fable emitted a laugh.
"I would have been known as the thief who stole the Huntsman's Fleece," Jack said. "Can you imagine that?"
Fable discreetly reached for Jack's hand and squeezed it. "Thank you, again," she said, wondering if she'd ever get that close to Loki to get the Fleece. She wondered if she could use Jack as a thief in that matter, but it didn't seem right. She came here to get it herself. It was her responsibility. No one else's.
Some time later, all huntsmen were invited inside the Schloss. It was the same castle Fable had seen in the Waking World, only grander and impossible to describe with words. This was a dream, after all. Everything was much brighter than Fable's wildest fantasies.
Then they were ushered to the Queen of Sorrow's private chamber…
***
The Lost Seven stood last in line inside, their backs to the arched double door from which they'd entered. In front of them stood Sorrow's monks and religious idols. Scientists stood honorably before them, closer to the Queen's throne. The closest row was reserved for the Kingdom of Sorrow's advisors and magicians. All meant to witness the Weighing of the Heart ceremony.