Little Red Cinderella and the Three Beanstalks

Ezu and I quickly discovered exactly how much we had depended upon the narrow, winding, overgrown path that we had been following up until now. Once a major road through the kingdom, time and nature had turned it into little more than an animal’s foot path, the narrow and almost impossible to spot trail that deer and foxes carve into their territories. Yet a path it was, and we had been relying on it since we entered the Grimm Woods.

Now, without it under our feet, guiding us to who-knew-where, yet guiding us all the same, we suddenly felt utterly and completely alone. Abandoned, even. The final trace of humanity in the Grimm Woods was now behind us, and only wild wood lay ahead.

Now Ezu and I walked alongside our horses rather than riding them, simply because the undergrowth had become dangerously thick. I felt increasingly bad about dragging our poor horses into this awful place with us, especially as they both became more nervous and unhappy the deeper into the forest we went. It was too late now, though; we couldn’t abandon them here, where there was a very good chance they’d never find their way out of the forest alone. Heck, we had a map and opposable thumbs, and after a half day since leaving the path, I already felt so turned around that I doubted if we’d be able to find our way out of the forest again. We were lucky that we could catch glimpses of the sun through the thick trees overhead, and could use our sense of what time of day it was to be sure that we were headed at least vaguely in the right direction.

Ezu was worried about what nasty surprises might be awaiting us as we went deeper and deeper into the woods. The mermaids and the ghosts had set him on edge, combined with the regular ol’ concerns about things like wolves and bears, who were less mythical, but no less murderous. His head kept darting to one side and then the other every time he heard, or thought he heard, an unexpected sound from the forest around us, and his jumpiness was beginning to rub off on me and make me irritable.

I, on the other hand, was almost positive that we wouldn’t run into anything unpleasant, at least, not until we reached the sorceress’s tower. Three challenges, that was what we had to face. We’d had our first two, and the third awaited us. No wolves or bears or anything else would cross our paths while we still had the final task ahead of us.

Ezu, however, had spent most of his life as a background character rather than a main one, and therefore his daily life was only sporadically governed by the inexplicable rules of dramatic tension. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince him that statistically, we had nothing to worry about so we might as well try to relax while we could.

Eventually his constant jumpiness had me so fed up that I demanded we stop for the night, set up camp, and try to catch up on the sleep we’d missed the previous night. Ezu agreed sulkily, and we didn’t talk much as we set up camp. Even so, when he came to sit beside me on my blankets after he finished stoking the small campfire, I didn’t pull away. I was, for once, able to be mature enough to recognize that my bad mood was brought on by a lack of sleep and stress, and that it was more important now than ever to stick together.

We had stopped well before nightfall, but the cold began to settle on us before the sun had even set. This far north, it was clear that the winds of autumn we’re just on their way, they were here already. I suddenly thought of something I hadn’t worried about much since first coming to this world, where I had spent so much time sleeping outside under the stars and the trees. If it kept getting this cold, or colder, during the nights, hypothermia might be a very real thing that could stop us in our tracks. Bears and wolves and mermaid could theoretically be encouraged to avoid our paths so as not to ruin the pattern of the narrative, but biology was biology. If I stopped eating, I’d eventually starve to death, story or no; and if my body temperature dropped below a certain point for too long…

I scooted a little closer to Ezu, so that my shoulder bumped into his. The warmth from his body was pleasant, and the rest of me felt a little more chilled compared to our touching arms.

We were much better rested by the time the next morning dawned, and after an uneventful night, Ezu’s worries about prowling wildlife seemed to have been somewhat assuaged. We packed up our camp site in record time and set back out on our journey after an uncomfortably light breakfast. Food supplies weren’t yet low enough to be worrying, but we were becoming increasingly aware of the growing lightness of our packs of supplies. We didn’t just have to have enough to get us there, we had to have enough to get us back too.

Despite having an almost uselessly vague map, no path to follow, and living in an indeterminate time period where compasses didn’t seem to exist yet, it was growing increasingly clear that we were heading in the more-or-less right direction. The deeper we went into the woods, the thicker, taller, and more generally ominous the trees seemed to become. These were the kinds of trees that had sparked that scene from the Disney version of Snow White where she is running through the forest in terror; or the scene from the Wizard of Oz where the trees pelt Dorothy and the Scarecrow with apples—a scene that frightened me far more than the infamous flying monkeys ever had.

Sunlight from overhead was being filtered down through dark foliage that grew thicker and more stifling, until eventually no light at all could break through the canopy of leaves above. Even during midday, it was as dark as twilight, as we had to take particular care to mind our steps in the tricky undergrowth. More than once one of us had to climb one of the trees as high as we could into the upper branches, so we could poke our heads out into the light and check the position of the sun to make sure we were going in the right direction.

Of course, what did “right direction” even mean when we didn’t actually know exactly where we were going anyways?

That is, until we found the road.

I say “found”, but “literally tripped over” would be more accurate; and I say “road”, but “pile of broken stone that once used to be a road before a hundred years of tree roots put an end to that” paints a more truthful picture.

“Ow,” I said, picking myself up from the ground and rubbing my bruised shin. “What the heck is that huge freaking rock doing right in the middle of the forest like that? Oh, look, there’s another one. And another, and-”

We looked to the right, and then to the left, and it became clear that the stones in question were roughly aligned in an obviously intentional, vaguely path-like fashion.

I pulled out the map again and we scrutinized it. The map we had been given by Sleeping Beauty’s parents was of the Sorceress’s kingdom as they had known it, before the Grimm Woods had completely taken it over. The forest was twice as large now as it had been in their time, so things that existed on the map had long since been swallowed by forest. But there was indeed a road running through is, some kind of trade route for more northern kingdoms. The beginning of the road, as best as we could judge, would now be a day and a half’s ride from the current outer edge of the forest, meaning that the only real way to find it was once you were already neck deep in the woods.

“What do you think?” I asked Ezu.

“It looks like it cuts near through the center of the forest,” he said.

“And if I were a king of a country, I’d want to build my castle near the main trade route—or the trade route next to my castle, depending on which ever came first, I guess,” I added.

“I don’t think it can hurt to try,” suggested Ezu. “If we find it’s taking us too off course, we can always double back. At least with a path to follow we won’t have to worry about getting lost.”

“Knock on wood,” I muttered, giving a nearby tree trunk a sharp rap with my knuckles.

So we decided to follow the old trading road deeper into the woods, and see where it took us.

It wasn’t easy with the horses. Both the animals, and ourselves, kept tripping over paving stones half-swallowed by undergrowth, pushed up at dangerous angles by the growth of tree roots beneath them, exposing very trippable edges.

That wasn’t the part that really worried us, though. Every so often, either Ezu or I would stop, listening hard, certain we’d heard something, some distant noise far off in the forest, usually from somewhere behind us.

“What the hell is that?” Ezu grumbled the fifth or sixth time this happened.

“It’s too far away,” I replied, straining my ear, but to no avail. “There’s definitely something out there, moving through the trees.”

“If it’s that far off, but we can still hear it, then it has to be big,” Ezu said darkly. “And it’s been a few hours now since we first heard it. It’s definitely following us.”

“It’s possibly following us,” I replied, certain he was right but determined to be the calm and reasonable one, for now at least. “It could just be an animal. We know there are at least some animals in here, remember that deer? And do mermaids count as animals?”

Ezu didn’t seem convinced, but there wasn’t much we could actually do apart from keep moving, and hope that whatever it wasn’t, it wasn’t huge and it wasn’t following us.

You know, because wishing really hard for things is a totally legitimate problem solving technique.

Actually, considering this was a fairy tale land, maybe I shouldn’t be knocking it before trying it.

So my mind was entirely focused on the subject of wishing really hard for the thing behind us to just go away when Ezu suddenly stopped short, and I nearly ran right into him. He grabbed me by the hand, and then abruptly switched hands because I was holding onto Storm Cloud’s reigns with the hand he had first grabbed, and he pointed wordlessly. On the ground before us was a low stone wall, surrounded by rubble and covered in dark moss and crawling ivy working its roots into the cracks in the stones. We left the path briefly to follow it a little ways, and then worked our way back.

“That looks like a wall to me,” I said.

“It was a big wall at one time, too. Look at how much there was of it, before it fell. It must have been fifteen, twenty feet high.”

We continued on, our hopes simultaneously rising and falling with every step. Were we on the right track? Did we really want to be on the right track?

Next we found the crumbled remains of a few stone houses, thatched roofs rotted away decades past, and walls collapsed leaving lurching lumps of foundations being taken over by nature.

Then there was something that must have, at one time, been some kind of market square, with a wide flat expanse of cobbled streets, and a stone fountain, long empty and cracked in two, a five foot sapling sprouting from the split.

Then there was another wall, an even higher one, perhaps the inner wall that would have surrounded the castle grounds. We passed the ruins of long houses, perhaps guard barracks, cold and empty.

Then came an inner courtyard, the flagstones still in place but cracked with weeds spilling out from underneath. In the middle of the empty courtyard lay the rotted remains of a wooden scaffold, broken down to little more than a pile of splintered planks, eaten away by a hundred years of wind and rain.

“A gibbet,” Ezu said with a grim expression.

I realized that this would have been where the enchantress had been hung by order of her step-daughter, and I shivered. “Let’s keep going,” I urged Ezu.

We continued, until we hit the foundation of the castle itself.

The entire thing had been brought down—how, I can’t even imagine, but it looked as if the forest was trying to consume every inch of stone there was. It was just huge piles of collapsed walls and cracked marble floors, and we couldn’t get any further into the borders of the castle itself with our horses. They simply couldn’t climb over the piles of stone, and we had to make a choice.

“Alright,” I said, pulling Storm Cloud’s head down so I could look him in the eye and give him a pat on the nose. “You can’t come with us past this point, so we’re going to have to leave you guys here. We’ll try to come back for you if we can, but if we aren’t back in a day, you’re probably better off leaving without us. Just try to get out of this forest in one piece, okay?”

“Uh, Rikki,” Ezu said, raising an eyebrow at me, “you do realize they probably can’t understand you, don’t you?”

“We met a wolf who wore pants,” I reminded Ezu, stroking the side of Storm Cloud’s face. “I’m sure our horses can understand us just fine.” Storm Cloud gave a snort and a little toss of his head that may have been meant to dislodge an irritating fly, but I decided to take for agreement. Ezu rolled his eyes, but repeated the instruction to his own mare, who seemed much less interested than Storm Cloud had.

Since we had to leave the horses behind, we could only take what we could carry from here on out. That shouldn’t have been such a big deal since we’d traveled on foot with minimal supplies for months now, but we’d become quickly accustomed to the relative luxury of having access to things like tents made out of four sticks and a tarp and itchy wool blankets that smelled like horse sweat. Having to leave those things behind stung a little. But we had to do what we had to do, and it was only food, our swords, the flint box, the bow and arrow Justin had given me for hunting which had come in no use in this barren forest, the impressively long length of rope, and the map that we were able to bring with us.

And, of course, The Book. I didn’t really think I’d be needing it too much from here on out, but it was pretty heavy, and I figured that maybe I could throw it at someone if I needed to create a distraction.

With that done, Ezu and I set out on the final leg of our journey.

We clambered awkwardly over the heaps of stones, moving deeper into the floor plan of the castle. We kept having to take huge detours around near-mountains of rubble, where second and even third floors had piled on top of the first. Occasionally we would stumble across a doorway that was still standing, a gaping entryway that led to only more trees, more climbing ivy, more crumbled brick.

We could almost follow the floor plan of the castle, wandering through where the main hall had once been, into the throne room, through the servant’s quarters and then the kitchens, and back out into what had once been the castle gardens.

Now it was filled with the trees that made up the Grimm Woods, only bushes of overgrown rosemary and thyme growing between the wild ivy and holly giving a hint as to the culinary role this space had once served.

Yet, between the trees that had taken over the castle grounds, we could see something rising from the forest floor, wider around than even the thickest of the trees, looming dark and tall towards the rear outer wall of the castle.

It was a tower—the tower, we knew, because it was the only thing left standing and whole. It was huge and dark, the stones blackened with age and lichen, cast in shadow by the trees, even taller than its own towering spire, that flanked it on all sides. It stood like a lonely sentry, keeping silent watch over the cursed woods for more than a century. Its base was surrounded by a huge mess of thorny brambles that climbed up the side of the tower, bare and wicked looking. Up, up, up the side, a small window was set like a dark, gaping mouth near the steeply sloped roof. Ezu and I watched that window for a long moment, but nothing stirred within its depths.

Warily, trying to remain as quiet as possible and staying somewhat concealed in the shadows of the trees, Ezu and I circled the wide base of the tower until we came to a door, the only part of the tower’s base that wasn’t covered in tough, thorny vines.

We sidled up to it, as if expecting it to burst open at any moment to reveal the Sorceress standing there, pointing at us and cackling “haha, gotcha now!”

That did not happen, and after an almost embarrassingly long time, we finally found ourselves standing before the dark oak door. We both stared at it, but neither of us made a move.

“Do we just… go inside?” I whispered to Ezu. He shrugged.

“How should I know? It’s probably locked anyways, we won’t be able to get in through here. If we could, then why wouldn’t the Sorceress just leave on her own?”

I reached out to jiggle the handle, which was water-stained and badly tarnished.

To my utter astonishment, it turned easily.

“It’s not locked,” I said.

Ezu made an expression that clearly said that in that case, he had no freaking clue what was going on or what to do next.

“I guess we just… go up?”

“And what, introduce ourselves?”

“Well I don’t know, but we can’t just stand here all day, can we? It’s either try going up this way, or try climbing the side of the tower and going in through the window. I think she’ll notice we’re coming if we attempt that.”

“Alright, alright,” Ezu conceded, though he didn’t look too happy about it.

I pushed the door and it swung inwards, revealing the dark foot of a flight of stone stairs. I found Ezu’s hand with my searching fingers, and held it tightly. Together, we began the ascent.

The sorceress’s tower had to have been as tall as Sleeping Beauty’s, and I wished I had kept count of the number of steps in the first so that I could compare the two.

This was my fourth tower, I realized. First we had to scale the side of the tower where the Miller’s Daughter was being kept, and then I had to climb Rapunzel’s, and just a few days ago I’d walked up the stairs to Sleeping Beauty’s with Prince Justin.

For impenetrable castle towers, none of them seemed to be doing a really foolproof job of keeping anyone out.

Up we went, higher and higher, and soon what little light filtered in through the open doorway deserted us. We pulled out the flintbox and got a little light going, but it was only enough to illuminate the next step or two before us. In the dark, with only a small flickering flame to guide us, going round and round up the winding staircase, we grew dizzy and disoriented. When we finally reached the top landing, we almost crashed right into the door that led into the tower room, so abruptly and unexpectedly did we come upon it.We pulled up short, short enough that I took a hasty step back, missed the step I was standing on, and nearly fell backwards right down the stairs. Considering the tower had appeared to be about a hundred feet tall, that would have been a pretty nasty fall. Ezu’s hard darted out of the darkness and grabbed me by the wrist, yanking me back to safety.

“Thanks,” I breathed, shaken by my near accident. Wouldn’t it be just classic if I fell down the stairs and died, literally feet away from confronting the sorceress that had been the central goal of my life for the past who-knew how many months?

Before I could internally berate myself any further, Ezu’s grip upon my wrist suddenly tightened, so hard that I had to stifle a cry of pain.

“What-” I began, but he shushed me and pulled me towards him, spinning me on the spot slightly so that my back was pressed up against his chest. He pointed without a word, and when I saw what he was staring at, my own words died in my throat.

There on the landing, hovering in front of the door, was the figure of a woman.

I saw hovering, but I think I was only given that impression because from the waist down, she sort of gradually faded from view, until everything below the shins had dissipated into a fine mist. We could only see her in the darkness because she seemed to be radiating a faint glow from within, and that little light she gave off made it easy to see that she was transparent. I could see the outline of the door right through her insubstantial form.

It took her a moment longer to realize we were there than it had for us to notice her. But then her head turned, and she seemed to see us for the first time. A flicker of surprise crossed her face, and she tilted her head to one side. I couldn’t help but notice that, even in death, she was very lovely.

Who are you? She asked, her voice little more than an echo carried by the wind.

“We…” I croaked, and I cleared my throat, trying to regain some of my poise after my shock. After all, this wasn’t exactly my first ghost. “I’m Rikki, Rikki Collins, and this is Ezu Erikson. We’ve been sent… we’re here to stop the sorceress from regaining power. Are you… are you the enchantress?”

The woman looked at me for a moment, and I became very aware that we were standing on opposite ends of a great divide. I am a enchantress, yes. At least, a slightly uncertain expression crossed her face, I was, once. A long time ago now, I think.

“It was long ago,” I replied quietly. “Have you been guarding this place the whole time?”

I keep her from leaving, said the spirit. She fears me, even in death. I swore I would not let her leave, would not let her evil continue to spread. But I fear… she spread her arms out, as I saw her fingertips flicker and fade from view the further the moved from her body, my strength is beginning to fade. Or perhaps it has been fading for a long while now. I struggle to recall how much time has passed. But I know that I grow weak, and every day I grow weaker. I can feel her power fighting against mine, and I can feel her fear of me weakening as I fade. I do not think I can hold her for much longer. The ghost’s lovely face was contorted with concern, and I felt a weight of sorrow settle over my heart.

“It’s okay, we’re here now. We’re going to stop her, put an end to her once and for all,” I assured her.

The enchantress looked at me with strangely piercing eyes, the only bit of her that seemed solid in a constantly shifting face.

You have come… to relieve me? she said slowly. I nodded. The enchantress turned her head towards the wall of the tower, and I got the sense that she was seeing past it, to something far away that neither Ezu nor I would be able to see no matter how hard we looked. I am so tired. I have been ready to move on for a long, long time.

“You can go now,” I whispered.

“Rikki,” Ezu hissed. “What if we don’t… if we can’t stop her, and the enchantress is gone, then there will be nothing to-”

“At that point, we’ll already be dead by then anyways, so it won’t really matter to us much more at that point, will it?” I pointed out. “Besides, she won’t be able to keep up this guard for much longer. Look at her, she’s just fading away. Leaving her here would keep the sorceress trapped for how much longer, two, three months? We might as well set her free now. She’s done her duty for long enough, I think. She’s earned her retirement.” I looked back at the spirit, who even now seemed to be growing fainter and fainter with every passing moment. “Your job is done, we’ll take over from here. Go find your peace.”

The spirit turned her gaze back on me, and as she turned into smoke and mist, her eyes were the last things to fade. She is still strong after all these years, whispered a sigh on the wind, and she will fight to the death. You will need strong magic to face her. Good luck.

And the enchantress’s spirit was finally released, after a long and lonely century.