I didn’t.
“Dear little soldier,” the sweet voice within the light said. “This story has not been kind to you. You did me a service once, so I have saved you. I offer you a choice: let it end here and dream peacefully in these waters for eternity. You will feel no more pain and none may harm you.”
I still couldn’t see the woman, could barely move, but I could breathe. Water. And I’m sure the Lady of the Lake was responsible for it. Her offer didn’t sound half-bad actually. It wasn’t exactly happily ever after, but it wasn’t an unhappy ending or rotting in the underworld as a Forgotten either.
“No one would blame you for choosing the easy way.”
That was a lie. A pretty one but a lie nonetheless. The faces of Verte, Morte, Dad, Kato, Dorthea, and everyone I’d ever met flashed in my mind. They all expected me to screw up, give up, shut up, and go down without a fight, so I’d be a gnome nut if I chose to prove them right.
Besides, sleeping forever sounded an awful lot like being dead. I still had way too much stubborn survival sense to meekly opt to count Bo Peep’s sheep for eternity.
Even without knowing the second option, I shook my head.
Little bubbles that felt like laughter rose up around me. The warm glow intensified. “I knew I chose well. All of Story is flawed and broken. A dangerous evil is loose. Fight for me against the one who seeks to drain my waters. Be my champion, Rexi.”
Amid the soft glow and lulling music and warm water, I needed even less time to consider the second choice.
“No way.”
“Take up my—wait.” The glow dimmed, the background melody stopped, and the water chilled. “What?!”
Breathing underwater was a foreign feeling, the water slipping in and out of my lungs. But talking was about the same—just bubblier. “No offense. But I did the servant thing. I was even a henchman for bit.” I tried to shrug, but my right side, where the barb had hit, was as good as stone. “You seem great and stuff, but I’m done being a pawn. For anyone.”
“But…but…” Her voice went higher in pitch, less siren’s song and more siren’s shriek. “I’m offering you the opportunity to be my champion. Don’t you want to live as a hero?”
“No.” I snorted, and the water went up my nose. “Why does everyone assume that? Do I look like the sort of megalomaniac who thinks they are solely responsible for saving the world?”
I was still figuring out how to save myself. If the world was depending on me, it was pixed. Of course, waiting for the likes of Dorthea to figure things out might be just as bad. But not my problem.
“Don’t get smart with me, brat.” Kelp shot out from the depths and wrapped around my wrist. It pulled me through the light, closer to the voice. “I gave you my mark, saved you from the Nome King.”
At first, I was speechless. For one, her tone had changed very abruptly. But even more startling than that was the lady herself. I was used to ugly; I’d lived with moldy oldie Verte. But if the Littlest Mermaid had an ugly stepsister, she’d look like the belle of the ball next to this Loch Ness Lady.
Her skin was mostly see-through, understandable, since it was made of bioluminescent jellyfish. The sickly gray freshwater eels trying to squirm away from her head looked like hair. Her pearl eyes lacked pupils, which gave new meaning to “a blank stare.”
It’s a good thing I’m not as superficial as Dorthea. The most helpful people by far have been hideous, like Hydra. But just because the Lady of the Lake stopped me from drowning, that didn’t mean I owed her anything. Plus, she mentioned I had served her once. I didn’t remember ever meeting her, though I’d lived by this lake for years. I guess memories didn’t mean much with Morte around.
“Whatever you did that lets me breathe is great and all, but you did that on your own because…” I may not remember, but I didn’t want her to know that and think she didn’t owe me since that was working in my favor. “…of that thing…that happened…that one time.” I rushed through the lack of details and kept going. “The way I see it, if you wanted something more in return, you should have made the offer first.” I rotated my left wrist to get free of the kelp, since the venom kept me from using my other hand.
The slugs that seemed to serve as the lady’s lips turned up. Or tried to slime off her face. The effect made her seem amused. Her voice matched as she said, “You remind me a bit of myself, so I assumed you would not hesitate at my offer. I have obviously erred, yet what was done cannot be undone. Know this though: water is both life and death. All debts come due in the end. While it’s true that now water cannot harm you, the poison in your veins will. Be my champion and help me protect the grail, or I won’t stop the Nome King a second time.”
“I didn’t ask you to help the first time. This is my story, and no one writes what happens but me. And I pick the third option.”
The Lady of the Lake let go with her kelp hand and scratched her head. “I don’t recall offering a third choice.”
“You didn’t.” With my hand free, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the glass-encased capsule I’d picked up off the shelf at the pawn shop.
Please work. Please work, I begged the universe and smashed the glass on the rocks under my back with a burst strength.
Just like before, when the capsule hit water, it split open, expanding out into a humanoid figure, this time without the princely head. As it propelled me up, I thought of DumBeau and felt a pang of guilt at leaving him behind. But thoughts were getting harder to hang on to. The poison must have finally worked its way through my system.
My eyes were starting to have trouble focusing, meaning unlucky death number seven was near.
Something disturbed the lake’s surface. A hand, I think, dragged me up until air filled my lungs rather than water.
“Sprout. Sprout. Hang on.”
Though my senses were fading, I could never forget this voice. Or the way he smelled like moss after rain.
I blinked and forced my eyes to focus the best they could. My lips were heavy and it hurt to smile, but I’d never been so happy in my life.
“Dad! You actually came.”
I felt his hand squeezing mine.
Then nothing.
“Dear Stranger in Strange Land: When exploring a new place, it really is quite rude to roam around uninvited. Nowadays, most stories come standard equipped with some manner of talking-animal tour guide.”
—Dear Alice manners column
12
Don’t Fear the Reaper
Within a few grains of sand passing through the hourglass, my soul returned to the underworld office, the stack of paper on the desk higher than ever. I took great joy in swiping at it and sending the pages whirling around the room.
“Mother of Grimm! You get me for eternity, you son of a basilisk. You couldn’t have given me one more curse-rotted minute?” I kicked the Forgotten-made chair, sending the left half flying into the wall in chunks. “It’s not fair.”