“Please don’t talk me out of it, Axel,” Fable said. “I want to help Loki, and the thought of doing the spell already scares me, so I need your encouragement.”
“You said it yourself,” Axel said. “This is a dangerous spell. It means your soul, or whatever that is, will be inside the Dream Temple. Didn’t I tell you being inside leads to insanity while the dream is locked?”
Fable lowered her head, unable to utter a word. She really wanted Loki’s and Shew’s love to prevail. This crazy fairy tale world wouldn’t mean much to her if she lost any of them.
“Listen to me, Fable,” Axel walked toward his sister and hugged her. “I might be harsh on you sometimes, and I know I am not the best brother in the world, but I can’t bear the thought of living without you. I love Loki and Shew, but think of it, Fable. This is not our fight. We’re not one of those fairy tale characters. We are simply two nerdy orphans and we only got each other. Do you understand?”
“I do, bro,” Fable hugged him tighter. “I just wanted to help. I can’t stand it being here, not knowing what’s happening in the Dreamworld.”
“That’s my sis,” Axel said. “Besides, what would Itsy and Bitsy do without you?” he hated his sister’s spiders, but if it made her laugh he didn’t mind pretending to love them.
“You hate my spiders, Axel,” Fable said.
“Who said that? Just wait until we get back, and I promise you I will feed them both myself.”
“And you need to let Itsy sleep next to you in bed,” Fable had to take advantage of the moment.
“But of course,” Axel gritted his teeth behind her back, imagining all the possible ways to choke both spiders, “as long as I don’t have any girls sleeping over.”
Fable hit him lightly in his stomach, “I just remembered it wasn’t going to work anyway.”
“How so?”
“I need Loki’s full name to posses his body, We call it true name in magic. Each person has a true name that without the spell doesn’t work,” Fable explained. “I remember he told us that Blackstar wasn’t his real name. It was given to him by Charmwill, which makes me curious to know if you really discovered who his father was.”
“OK,” Axel said and went back to grab his phone. “I will tell you now about my genius discovery, but first you have to tell me more about true names.”
“It’s easy,” Fable said. “Remember the old Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale every one heard as a kid?”
“Of course,” Axel said. “I always suspect it has to do something with Professor Rumpelstein. The names are similar.”
“Maybe, but that’s not the point,” Fables said. “In the fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin, which I assume you know well, the imp who has stolen a firstborn promised his mom he will return her child only is she could guess his true name. And then later she does, and has control over him and is able to kill him.”
“So?”
“So we all though this was just a story when this is a part of true magic,” Fable said. “To make a spell work on someone, especially very powerful spells, the witch or the performer needs to know someone true name, which usually their real name. But in the a world like a Kingdom of Sorrow, I assumed a true name is something even deeper than that. I am just assuming.”
“And I learned something new from my sister today,” Axel said proudly, scrolling his phone. “Now, in order to tell you my new discover about Loki’s father, I need to send one last message to Genius Goblin. I need to ask him something. The man is a guru.”
21
A Massacre in Furry Tell
Shew and Cerené watched the horde of Huntsmen invade the small town of Furry Tell. Their black cloaks fluttered in the wind hardly resisting their unicorns’ intensity.
The unicorns were hornless with a third eye where their horns had been cut off, all but Loki’s, the leader of all Huntsmen. His unicorn was black, and instead of a third eye, it had a horn. Shew recognized it immediately because it was Loki's famous Alicorn.
Wherever Loki rode his unicorn, the laughing wind spiraled around him. It was like a second conscious, a ghostly black wind that waved like a guardian curtain, showing face and hands. It talked like a human, and it applauded Loki each time he chopped off one of the villager’s heads.
"I can’t believe my eyes," Shew looked away from the blood and gore Loki was spreading in the town. At least, she’d seen him from far away. She didn’t think she could take it if she had been closer.
“That’s horrible,” Cerené muttered, changing her mind about her fascination with the Huntsman whose blonde hair fluttered from under his hood as he rode and killed through town.
“Furry Tell is such a small community. Hundred people or more, maybe,” Shew said. “Why would he kill them so heartlessly?”
“He wouldn’t do it unless the Queen of Sorrow demanded it,” Cerené said. “I heard he tends to kill ninety nine people whenever he raises his sword. He calls it his lucky number," she said.