“I’d really like to Murano with you,” Fable said. “I hope they have Venetian carnivals there where you wear those fantabuluos masks.”
“I’d like that, too. Never have tasted Venetian food. But I’m afraid that going to Murano isn’t easy at all,” Axel said. “I mean to travel back in time to the incidents in Murano in 1291, we’ll need to find Cerené first and enter her dream like Loki did with Shew…”
“And we have no clue where Cerené is in the Waking World,” Fable agreed.
“And even if we do, we’ll need a Dreamhunter to enter her dream,” Axel said, glancing briefly at the comatose Loki.
“Which we also don’t have,” Fable said.
“This brings us to square one again, where there is only one person who could help us,” Axel said.
“Charmwill Glimmer,” Shew and Fable uttered in the same breath. “He must know of a way to get us there, and I bet he could answer a lot of questions,” Shew said.
“Didn’t Cerené tell you there is a way to resurrect him?” Fable asked Shew.
“She said Charmwill told her his True Name when she met him in the cottage, and that it would help resurrect him if he dies,” Shew answered. “Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time to learn it from her.”
“Because Loki chopped off her hands,” Fable said, Loki’s name sounding bitter on her tongue.
“There is really nothing we can do without knowing Charmwill’s True name,” Axel said, glancing at Bitsy arranging the alphabet magnet on the refrigerator. He arranged it after Charmwill’s name this time.
40
The Guardian
Pickwick had been lost without his master for sometime.
Sorrow didn’t seem to be the town for him, and he couldn’t befriend anyone. Not because people were necessarily bad, but Pickwick was worried someone would get close enough to him and gain the secret to unlocking the Book of Beautiful Lies. Pickwick’s main purpose in life was protecting the book after Charmwill had been killed by the Queen of Sorrow.
Even Loki, who should have become Pickwick’s master after Charmwill’s departure, hadn’t been around for some time. Last time Pickwick checked, he saw Loki locked in a coffin in Candy House, looking like a Sleeping Beauty awaiting his resurrecting kiss.
Axel, Fable, and Shew forgot about Pickwick the Parrot. No one fed him or played with him. He knew that it was unlikely they would care for him when they’d only known him for two days, but he was used to his master taking good care of him. Even Nine the cat and Mr. Squirrel ate Pickwick’s food and were mean to him.
Pickwick fluttered his lonely days over Sorrow, picking up the food left in the Belly and the Beast’s garbage, still hoping his master would return. To be precise, he was trying to resurrect Charmwill.
In the old days, Charmwill had told Pickwick how some people were blessed with a second life, but only if a dear friend knew of their True Name, which was essential to the resurrecting process. Pickwick, like Cerené, did know Charmwill’s True Name. Ironically, he was mute and could not utter it.
Bored, Pickwick fluttered his way to the Schloss. It was a scary place, and Pickwick wasn’t brave. His main power as a mute parrot was being secretive, not courageous. He decided to turn around and flew back to Sorrow, passing by the Black Forest, the Swamp of Sorrow, and Buried Moon Cemetery.
Pickwick fluttered over Candy House for a while, wondering what everyone was doing. He stood by the window, watching Fable staring at the alphabet magnets on the refrigerator. She had Bitsy organize them after Charmwill Glimmer’s name. Bitsy was proud of himself, standing on her shoulder as she was wondering what Charmwill’s True Name could be.
Pickwick was about to lose his mind. If he could only speak, he could have told Fable about the name. It was an easy name, right in her face. Why couldn’t she see it?
In his frustration, Pickwick knocked his beak three times on the window.
“Pickwick!” Fable said, happy to see him. “Where have you been?” she opened the window for him and cuddled the parrot. “Bitsy, say ‘hi’ to Pickwick.”
It was obvious that the two didn’t like each other the least. Pickwick clawed himself atop of the refrigerator and pointed at Charmwill Glimmer’s name.
“I know. I know,” Fable said. “We all want to know his True Name so we can bring him back. Bitsy wrote it by the way. Isn’t he adorable?” Fable kissed her tarantula. Pickwick wiped his mouth with his wing on her behalf. “I really wish I could figure out Charmwill’s True Name,” she added.
Frustrated, Pickwick started pecking at the alphabet magnets with his beak, trying to rearrange them. He was going to write Charmwill’s True Name, but Bitsy got angry he messed up his writing and attacked Pickwick on the refrigerator.