“Bram Stoker’s Icelandic Version Preface for the 1901 version,” Fable read from the internet. “So?”
“So read it,” Axel demanded. “It’s a limited edition, printed by the author himself.”
“The reader of this story will very soon understand how the events outlined in these pages have been gradually drawn together to make a logical whole,” Fable began reading. “Apart from excising minor details which I considered unnecessary, I have let the people involved relate their experiences in their own way; but, for obvious reasons, I have changed the names of the people and places concerned. In all other respects I leave the manuscript unaltered, in deference to the wishes of those who have considered it their duty to present it before the eyes of the public,” Fable looked back at Axel, shrugging.
“I am quite convinced that there is no doubt whatever that the events here described really took place, however unbelievable and incomprehensible they might appear at first sight,” Axel continued reading. “And I am further convinced that they must always remain to some extent incomprehensible, although continuing research in psychology and natural sciences may, in years to come, give logical explanations of such strange happenings which, at present, neither scientists nor the secret police can understand.”
“Is that true?” Fable said with eyes wide open.
“Need I read more?” Axel said. “In this rare version, the author confesses that the novel is almost-true, only altered in certain places to protect the characters somehow. I bet this is the same reason the Brothers Grimm forged their tales. Maybe they were protecting some, the Lost Seven for instance. This is almost typical of Shew’s story. Everything you read in the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves fairy tale is partially true, but in an eluding way so the secrets stay hidden but the real characters can read between the lines.”
“You are talking about novels with imaginary characters being true all over the world,” Fable considered. “Does that mean I cam meet the real Mr.Darcy?”
“Why not?” Axel shook his shoulders. “The novels we read everyday, turned to be fabrications of reality. There is even more. Listen to this: In the Dracula novel, Abraham Van Helsing claims that his wife went insane after their son’s death.”
“Babushka isn’t insane,” Fable said.
“All ghosts are insane to me,” Axel said. “But that’s not the point. Abraham later explained that his wife was dead to him. Remember, the novel must have been forged, so this was a subtle indication of Loki’s ghost mother.”
“But Loki isn’t dead,” Fable said.
“No, he actually was,” Axel said. “He was shadowed by the Council of Heaven, which is how the council executed a Dreamhunter. That’s dead to me. Charmwill brought Loki back from the dead, unshadowing him, to give him a second life, remember?”
“I’m still not so sure about this, Axel,” Fable scratch he head and sighed. “But if Loki is Van Helsing’s son, what does that contribute to the story?”
“I’m not sure either,” Axel shrugged, “but I don’t think I’ll ever look at the world the same again. The next things I know you could be Gretel.”
Fable gazed back at the purple light. Something about the light made her look at it repeatedly. Her desire to pass through it was increasing each moment they spent in the Schloss. The purple light was messing with her head. She had decided not to try to save Loki by using her dangerous spell because she didn’t know his True Name anyways.
Now that she knew his True Name—if Axel’s theory was right—, she wasn’t sure. The purple light was calling her, and she wanted to enter the Dream Temple and save Loki more than anything now.
If only she could figure out what her brother had deleted from Loki’s phone?
Fable let Axel continue on rambling about his theories, but she wasn’t really listening. That purple’s light effect was too imminent to neglect.
What was going on with her?
Suddenly, Fable began feeling dizzy. She rubbed her head and balanced herself, but almost fell past the purple light.
“Fable?” Axel wasn’t sure what was happening. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” she stuttered. “It’s like…”
“Like what? Answer me.”
“It’s like Déjà vu or something,” Fable’s eyes throbbed. “I feel as if I’m seeing something from another world,” she began choking and shivering. “I feel something bad is going to happen.”
“To who?” Axel asked, holding her tight. “To Loki? To Shew?”
Fable tried not to look into her brothers eyes. What she felt was scary and it didn’t make sense to her. She swallowed hard and told him what the feeling told her, “I feel something bad is going to happen to me.”
23
A Grimm Girl
Shew and Cerené watched as the local’s horses escaped the dark Huntsmen in Furry Tell.