Once Upon a Time: New Fairy Tales Paperback

? Warrior Dreams ?

Like a lake freighter, the sturgeon made a wide turn to follow, its wake slopping over the shoreline like water sloshing out of a bathtub.

It put on speed, blood staining the water from the wounds in its sides. It reached the breakwall at ramming speed just as the last of their quarry slipped through the hole. The sturgeon slammed into the opening, ramming halfway through, and then stuck there, its tail flailing, sending tidal waves onto the shore.

Outside the breakwall, the nixies cheered.

But Jenny Greenteeth wasn’t done yet. Howling in fury, she stood astride the breakwall like a colossus at the gate. Truth be told, Russell thought she might indeed be a little bigger than she started out.

“Russell,” Laurel said. “I think it might be time to draw your sword.”

“Not yet,” he said, leaning forward to whisper into Laurel’s ear.“I’m going to need both hands. Bring me in close to the fish,” he said.

“He’ll smash you against the rocks,” Laurel protested, swimming closer just the same. They followed the breakwall in, avoiding the lashing tail, until they were all but bumping up against the sturgeon’s side. The eel reins were dangling in arm’s reach. Russell gripped the reins and ran up the slippery side of the fish, coming up underneath Jenny’s position on the wall.

Russell reached over his shoulder, gripped the dragon hilt of the sword, and pulled it, hissing, from its baldric. It was all he could do to hold the blade steady with his trembling arms. Balancing lightly atop the sturgeon, he slashed into the storm hag’s ankle with a two-handed swing. Then slid down, flattening himself against the sturgeon’s side, pressing his face into its leathery skin, clinging to the eel harness as if his life depended on it. Which it did.

Jenny screamed, a scream that could have been heard in Canada.

Crouching, she scanned the area around her feet for the culprit.

“Hey! Greenteeth!” Laurel shouted. “Over here!”


Turning, she spotted Laurel, hovering between the sturgeon’s tail and the wall. Flopping down on the sturgeon’s back, she reached for Laurel while the kelpie swam furiously for open water. Seizing hold ? 112 ?

? Cinda Williams Chima ?

of the water horse, Jenny lifted her, dripping, while Laurel struggled in the hag’s massive hand, shifting from horse to girl to slippery fish.

“What’s this?” Jenny snarled. “Did you sting me?”

Russell ran lightly up the hag’s spine, using the braids in her hair to climb to the top of her head.

He stood there, sword in hand, and his eyes met Laurel’s. She nodded, once, then sank her razor teeth into Jenny’s fleshy palm.

Enraged, the storm hag flung Laurel away. The kelpie landed, broken, on the rocks of the shoreline and lay there without moving.

Russell rappelled down the front of the hag’s face. Bracing his feet on either side of her nose, a hair’s breadth above her gaping mouth, he plunged his sword into one of her sulfur pool eyes.

The storm hag exploded, covering Russell head to toe with yellow goo and launching him far out into the lake. He hit the water hard and sank, a helpless bag of broken bones in the churning waves.

Drowning’s not a bad way to go, he said to himself as he spiraled down.

Then multiple hands were supporting him, lifting him back toward the surface. He saw it coming toward him, so brilliant it hurt his eyes, and then his face broke through, into the sunlight.

Incredibly, the storm was over, the waters lapping calmly against the breakwall, the sky that brilliant blue that sometimes happens on rare days in autumn.

“Laurel,” Russell gasped. “Where’s Laurel?”

“Don’t worry,” the nixies said. “You go together.”

“Good,” Russell said. And closed his eyes.