The Lost Seven were still staring at Fable. She was so close to exposing herself and telling them that she came through a dream. But that would mess with the purpose of her mission, which had already gone askew since she had gotten too involved with the Lost Seven's quest. How would she ever get Loki's Fleece? Would she ever see how Shew and Loki fell in love?
"I—" She hesitated, looking at Cerené, pleading for her support. Cerené was unaware that she was the only one who knew what had happened to Fable in the forest. "I don't remember the forest quite clearly now," she finally said. "I mean, it's a blurry memory."
"But you told me about it," Cerené said. "You told me about the Spell of Hearts."
Fable wanted to choke herself now. The Spell of Hearts. That was it. The spell that had been roaming in her head for the last hour. Was she supposed to just blurt it out, not really knowing how she'd learned it, or if it had dire consequences?
"Fable," the Beast said. "We don't have time. Do you know of a way to save us and Shew?"
"Do you know of a way to save Shew's heart from the evil Queen?" Cerené went straight to the point.
"I can save Shew's heart." Fable nodded, succumbing to the spell in her head. Why did she have to hold such great responsibility in her hands?
"How?" Cerené said. Everyone else was listening carefully.
"I have to warn you of the heaviness of this kind of magic first." Fable was talking with her heart. Most of what she was going to say wasn't coming from a thought-processing mind. It was like someone else was talking for her, the someone she had been two centuries ago. My name is Gretel, and I will kick your ass.
***
"Spell it out," Marmalade said. "Whatever incantation it is."
"It's not like that," Fable said, fidgeting. "All of you have to participate."
"I don't like the sound of that," Jack murmured.
"I know how to split Shew's heart among us so the Queen can't get it." These were the hardest words Fable had ever said.
Is this it? Is this the moment when Shew splits her heart among the Lost Seven? Really? Fable's head was boiling inside. So Shew didn't do it herself. She wasn't even aware it was done, as she was unconscious. Is that why she doesn't remember it? And oh my, I am the one who suggested it?
"What?" Jack grimaced. "Split her heart?"
"Shew's heart is now twenty-one grams," Fable explained. "I know of a way to cut it out and split it among us. If we do that, the Queen has to catch the seven of us to get it."
There was a long silence. A really long silence. And Fable sympathized with them. One had to think such a thing over and over again. Fable had witnessed the moments that changed the course of fairy tales. The reason for the Queen's hunting of them all.
"I like it," Ladle said.
Fable smiled. Of course, Ladle was quirkily fearless. Why wouldn't Death carry someone else's heart?
"If I cut Shew's heart out and split it among the seven of us," Fable said, "each one of us will have to live with a heart three grams heavier."
"Three grams heavier?" Marmalade said, as everyone remembered they had talked about the consequences of a heavier heart in Jack's house earlier. "But we said we're not sure what happens to those with a heavier heart."
"I am utterly confused," the Star said. "Are we going to cut the poor girl open?"
"It's not like that," Fable said, although she wasn't sure. She tried to express the inner thoughts she had as spontaneously as possible. "No cutting is involved. It's a dark spell, one the universe will not approve of. A spell against the norms of life. But if we want to help Shew, this is all I know." And I don't know how I know it.
"What does that mean, 'a spell against the norms of life'?" Marmalade squinted in the faint light.
Loki's threatening voice outside urged them to decide.
"I have no idea." Fable truly didn't know. "I never tried the spell before. I just know you're not supposed to do it."
"Who taught it to you?" Jack asked.
Fable looked at Cerené.
"I don't think we have time to delve into that," Cerené said. "Either we spilt Shew's heart or we fight outside."
It seemed that none of them had anything to contribute.
"How is this done?" Cerené seemed to be the only one who understood. Maybe it was her unconditional love for Shew, or her prior experience with the Art. Magic was a consequential art. It came with a certain baggage that only practitioners understood.
"We prick Shew's finger," Fable said. "Then we must prick ours. Each one has to mesh his or her blood with Shew's. Just a little bit will do. Then we hold hands and circle her, while I say my incantation."
"Just like that?" Ladle asked.
"It's not going to be easy," Fable warned them. "The transformation will be the greatest pain any one of us has ever endured."
"Why are we doing this, again?" Jack scoffed. "She is a ruthless vampire girl."
"She is the Chosen One," Cerené said. It was the first time Fable had learned this. "It is mentioned in a prophecy that she will end the reign of vampires."
"So each one of us will have a chunk of the Chosen One's heart in us?" Ladle chirped.
"As I said, I don't know how the spell works." Fable had to go through the burden of repeating what she wasn't sure of.