A Grimm Warning by Chris Colfer
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
To J. K. Rowling, C. S. Lewis, Roald Dahl, Eva Ibbotson, L. Frank Baum, James M. Barrie, Lewis Carroll, and all the other extraordinary authors who taught the world to believe in magic. When I think of all the time I spent inspecting wardrobes, spotting second stars to the right, and waiting for my Hogwarts acceptance letter—it’s no wonder I didn’t get good grades.
Also, to all the teachers and librarians who have expressed their support for this series and incorporated it into their classrooms. It means more to me than words can describe.
“YOU HAVE ENEMIES? GOOD. THAT MEANS YOU’VE STOOD UP FOR SOMETHING, SOMETIME IN YOUR LIFE.”
—WINSTON CHURCHILL
PROLOGUE
GUESTS OF THE GRANDE ARMéE
1811, Black Forest, Confederation of the Rhine
It was no mystery why this part of the countryside had been christened the Black Forest. The abnormally dark leaves and tree bark were nearly impossible to see in the night. Even though a bright moon peeked out from the clouds like a shy child, no one could be certain what was lurking in the thick woods.
A chill lingered in the air like a veil spread across the trees. It was a remote and mature forest; roots sank as deep into the ground as branches reached high into the sky. Had it not been for a modest path winding through the terrain the forest would have seemed completely untouched and unseen by human eyes.
A dark carriage pulled by four strong horses shot through the forest like a cannonball. A pair of swinging lanterns illuminated the path ahead and made the carriage resemble an enormous creature with glowing eyes. Two French soldiers of Napoleon’s Grande Armée rode beside the carriage. Black cloaks covered the soldiers’ colorful uniforms so they could travel in secrecy—the world was never to know what their agenda was tonight.
Soon the carriage arrived at the edge of the Rhine River, dangerously close to the border of the ever-growing French Empire. A large camp was being set up, with dozens of pointed beige tents pitched every moment by hundreds of French soldiers.
The two soldiers following the carriage dismounted their horses and opened the carriage doors. They yanked two men out from inside. The men’s hands were tied behind their backs and they had black sacks over their heads. They grunted and yelled muffled messages—both men had been gagged as well.
The soldiers pushed the men to the center of camp and into the largest tent. Even with their faces covered, the bound men could tell it was very bright inside the tent and they felt a soft rug beneath their feet. The soldiers forced the men into two wooden chairs farther inside.
“J’ai amené les frères,” they heard one of the soldiers say behind them.
“Merci, Capitaine,” another voice said in front of them. “Le général sera bient?t là.”
The sacks were pulled off the men’s faces and the cloths around their mouths were removed. Once their eyes adjusted to the light they could see a tall and muscular man standing behind a large wooden desk. His posture was authoritative and his scowl was anything but friendly.
“Hello, Brothers Grimm,” the tall man said with a thick accent. “I am Colonel Philippe Baton. Thank you for joining us this evening.”
Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm stared up at the colonel. They were cut up and bruised, and their clothing was disheveled—clearly it had been a struggle getting them here.
“Did we have a choice?” Jacob asked, spitting a mouthful of blood on the rug.
“I trust you’re already acquainted with Capitaine De Lange and Lieutenant Rembert,” Colonel Baton said, referring to the soldiers who had brought them.
“Acquainted is not the word I would use,” Wilhelm said.
“We tried to be polite, Colonel, but they would not cooperate,” Capitaine De Lange informed his colonel.
“We had to be aggressive with our invitation,” Lieutenant Rembert explained.
The brothers looked around the tent—it was impeccably decorated for having been so recently assembled. A grandfather clock ticked the night away in the far corner, shiny twin candelabras burned on either side of the tent’s back entrance, and a large map of Europe was spread across the wooden desk with miniature French flags pinning the conquered territories.
“What do you want with us?” Jacob demanded, struggling against the ropes tying his hands.
“Surely if you wanted us dead you would have killed us by now,” Wilhelm said, struggling against his own restraints.
Their discourteousness made the colonel scowl even harder. “General Marquis has requested your presence tonight not to harm you, but to ask for your assistance,” Colonel Baton said. “But if I were you, I would change my tone so he does not change his mind.”
The Brothers Grimm looked at each other nervously. General Jacques du Marquis was one of the most feared generals in the French Empire’s Grande Armée. Just hearing his name sent shivers down their spines—but what on earth did he want with them?
An undeniable musk suddenly filled the tent. The Brothers Grimm could tell the soldiers smelled it, too, and grew tense from it, although no one mentioned it.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Colonel,” said a wispy voice from outside the tent. “That is no way to treat our guests.” Whoever it was had obviously been listening the entire time.
General Marquis stepped into the tent from between the candelabras, causing the flames to flicker from the sudden burst of air. The tent immediately filled with the strong musky smell of his cologne.
“General Jacques du Marquis?” Jacob asked.
For a man with such an intimidating reputation, his physicality was a bit disappointing. He was a short man with large gray eyes and big hands. He wore a large rounded hat that was broader than his shoulders and several badges of honor were displayed on his tiny uniform. He removed his hat and placed it on top of the desk, revealing a perfectly bald head. He took a casual seat in the large cushioned chair behind the desk, neatly folding his hands over his stomach.
“Capitaine De Lange, Lieutenant Rembert, please untie our visitors,” General Marquis instructed. “Just because we are living in hostile times does not mean we have to be inhospitable.”
The captain and lieutenant did as they were instructed. A pleasant smile appeared on the general’s face but it didn’t fool the Brothers Grimm—his eyes were empty of compassion.
“Why have you forced us to come here tonight?” Wilhelm said. “We pose no threat to you or the French Empire.”
“We’re academics and authors! There’s nothing to gain from us,” Jacob said.
The general gave a little laugh and then placed an apologetic hand over his mouth.
“That is a nice story, but I know better than that,” Marquis said. “You see, I’ve been watching you, Brothers Grimm, and I know that, like all your stories, there is more to you than meets the eye. Donnez-moi le livre!”
The general snapped his fingers and Colonel Baton retrieved a large book from inside the desk. He dropped it with a thud in front of the general, who began flipping through its pages. The Brothers Grimm instantly recognized the book—it was theirs.
“Does this look familiar?” General Marquis asked.
“That’s a copy of our book of children’s stories,” Wilhelm said.
“Oui.” The general didn’t look up from its pages. “I am a major admirer of yours, Brothers Grimm. Your stories are so imaginative, so merveilleuses—where did you come up with all these stories?”
The Brothers Grimm looked at each other cautiously, still unsure what he was getting at.
“They’re just fairy tales,” Jacob said. “Some are original but most are just folktales that have been passed down from generation to generation.”
General Marquis slowly nodded as he listened. “But passed down by whom?” he asked, and slammed shut the book of stories. His pleasant smile faded, and his gray eyes darted back and forth between the brothers.
Neither Wilhelm nor Jacob knew what answer the general was looking for. “By families, by cultures, by children, by their parents, by—”
“Fairies?” the general said in total seriousness, not moving a single muscle in his face.
The room went dead silent. Once the silence reached an uncomfortably long amount of time Wilhelm looked at Jacob and they both forced a laugh, making light of the assertion.
“Fairies?” Wilhelm asked. “You think fairies gave us these stories?”
“Fairies aren’t real, General,” Jacob said.
General Marquis’s left eye began to twitch violently, which took the brothers by surprise. The general closed his eyes and slowly massaged his face until the spasms stopped.
“Forgive me, Brothers Grimm,” the general apologized with another fake smile. “My eye always begins to twitch when I am being lied to.”
“We aren’t lying to you, General,” Jacob said. “But if our stories have convinced you otherwise then you have given us the greatest of compliments—”
“SILENCE!” General Marquis ordered, and his eye began pulsing again. “You insult my intelligence, Brothers Grimm! We have been following you for quite some time. We know about the sparkling woman who brings you the stories!”
The Brothers Grimm went completely still. Their hearts were racing, and beads of sweat appeared on their foreheads. They had both been faithful to a vow of secrecy for years, but still the greatest secret of their lives had been uncovered.
“A sparkling woman?” Wilhelm asked. “General, do you hear what you are saying? This is ludicrous.”
“My men saw it with their own eyes,” General Marquis said. “She wears robes that sparkle like the night sky, has white flowers in her hair, and carries a long crystal wand—bringing you a new story for your books every time she returns. But from where does she appear? That’s what I’ve been asking myself. After countless days of looking over every map I own, I must assume she’s from a place that can’t be seen on any map of mine.”
Wilhelm and Jacob shook their heads, desperately trying to deny all that he said. But how could they deny the truth?
“You military men are all alike,” Jacob said. “You’ve already conquered half of the known world and yet you still want more—so you make up things to believe in! You’re King Arthur obsessing over the Holy Grail—”
“Apportez-moi l’oeuf!” General Marquis ordered.
Capitaine De Lange and Lieutenant Rembert stepped out of the tent and returned a moment later carrying a heavy box wrapped in chains. They placed the box on the desk directly in front of General Marquis.
The general reached into his uniform and removed a key he wore safely around his neck. He unlocked the chains and opened the box. First he pulled out a pair of white silk gloves and placed them on his hands. He reached farther into the box and retrieved a giant egg made of the purest gold the brothers had ever seen. The golden egg clearly wasn’t of this world.
“Is this not the most beautiful thing you have ever laid eyes on?” General Marquis said. He was almost in a trance as he stared at the golden egg. “And I believe this is only the beginning—I believe this is just a small sample of the wonders waiting in the world your stories come from, Brothers Grimm. And you’re going to take us there.”