Cinderella Dressed in Ashes (The Grimm Diaries #2)

“Looks like breadcrumbs,” Axel assumed. “See, the witch looks like you, not me.”


“She’s cloaked. Why do you think it is a she? You can’t tell,” Fable said.

“Whether a she or a he, I think I know who it is,” Axel said. “Remember Hansel and Gretel?”

“Of course,” Fable giggled. “I love that tale. It’s my favorite. I love Gretel, but despise Hansel.”

Axel shrugged, lost in the page in front of him.

“You and I really make a good Hansel and Gretel,” he said absently.

“Nice one,” Fable said. “And we have a Candy House…” suddenly, she stopped. The resemblance was too weird. She gazed at Axel, both sharing an intense moment with appalled eyes. Could it be they were Hansel and Gretel? The thought lingered in the air for a while. Both of them were speechless.

Finally, they broke the tension with a big laugh, “you and me, Hansel and Gretel,” Fable said, “that’s impossible.”

“You’re right about that,” Axel said. “I guess I was hoping my sis was one of the Lost Seven so I’d eat for free at the Belly and the Beast.”

“So what’s the next card,” Fable demanded, wanting to skip this uncomfortable moment.

The third tarot showed a thief. It was a boy, wearing a green hat, and a smirk on his face. It had Thief written on top of the page.

“He looks funny,” Fable raised an eyebrow. “I’m curious about him. Are those beans in his hand? If that’s Jack, I changed my mind. I like him.”

Axel flipped the page, not wanting Fable staring too long at the cute boy. “And here we have…” Axel raised an eyebrow now.

“A moon?” Fable laughed. “How could the moon be one of the Lost Seven?”

“Maybe J.G. didn’t know much about this Pilgrimm,” Axel said. “This could just be a clue.”

“OK. Flip to the next page, maybe we’ll find something that really makes sense,” Fable said.

The next page showed a beast so ugly Axel twitched his lips, preferring not to look at it.

“The Beast,” Fable mused. “I can’t even tell if it’s a boy or girl. Why would Shew share her heart with such an ugly creature?”

“The next one is a Star,” Axel flipped to an almost empty page that only had the word star handwritten in the middle. “How convenient, one of the Lost Seven is the moon, and the other is a star. This J.G. lost his mind.”

“And who’s the seventh of the Lost Seven?” Fable flipped the page herself. “What is this?” she looked as if someone had just burst her balloon.

“The Phoenix,” Axel stared at the picture of a bird with purple wings, the bird looked as if it was burning. “You know what a phoenix is, right Fable?”

“Of course, I know. I do your homework, Axel,” Fable said absently.

“You do my homework but you don’t know that beans are vegetables,” he mumbled.

“A phoenix is a bird that burns at the end of its life then rises again from its own ashes,” Fable explained.

“Like Zombies,” Axel giggled. Fable was too entranced by the picture of the Phoenix to comment. “Why do I think this is a big clue?” Axel said.

“It is,” Fable said. “But I don’t know what it means.”

“I’m not following,” Axel replied.

“When we were chasing Loki, I heard him mutter something to himself repeatedly, as if he was trying not to forget it,” Fable raised her eyes, meeting Axel’s. “He kept saying, ‘The Phoenix.’”

“So?”

“I have no idea,” Fable said. “All I know is that according to this J.G., she is one of the Lost Seven,” Fable turned back to the Dream Temple protected by the purple light. “Loki isn’t there to kill Snow White. He’s there for the Phoenix,” she uttered her discovery.

“So the Queen sent him to kill the Phoenix?” Axel said.

“Why kill her?” Fable said. “She probably wants to find her to collect Shew’s first piece of heart. Are you sure there isn’t anything else about the Phoenix in this diary.”

“Um,” Axel flipped through the pages. “The only other mention of the Phoenix is an article here where J.G. explains his frustration about the Phoenixes.”

“I don’t follow,” Fable said.

“He says that the Phoenix is the only one of the Lost Seven that he knew the real name of—he is very big on the power of what he calls ‘true names’,” Axel said. “He writes that whenever he has his hands on manuscripts with the Phoenix’s real name, he is confused by other manuscripts that call her something different.”

“So the Phoenix is a girl,” Fable said. “Do you have those names?”

“Wait a second,” Axel flipped. “I have come across them but the writing was too small and almost wiped out—here it is,” he handed Fable the diary.

“I have dyslexia, and you’re handing it to me?” Fable said, already reading it.