Rules of a Fairytale

I was the last one to wake up as we rolled into the town. Ryder steered the carriage to what looked to be a blacksmith’s shop on the village’s main street and hopped out. He turned toward the back of our wagon but my brother was already helping Brooke down and the prince got a slight frown from being rendered useless. I jumped down after everyone else and stretched my achy muscles. My back and shoulders popped audibly when I reached my hands above my head as far as they would go. The last remnants of the freaky dream dissipated in the warm afternoon.

“So will we be able to get weapons here?” I asked lazily. My voice was a croak.

“That’s the idea.”

“So what are we waiting for?” I took a step toward the wooden barn-looking building where the sound of a banging hammer echoed out. Prince Ryder stopped me with a hand on my bare wrist that sent a jolt along the surface of my skin.

“Not you,” he said quickly. “Tate and I will go while you two wait out here.”

“Excuse me?” Brooke snapped, drawing the first word out into three long parts. “Why would we do that? That’s stupid.”

Ryder put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t blame me. It’s just that these guys don’t deal with girls.”

I growled. Sexism was a hot issue back home and this sort of thing wouldn’t have been quite so obvious back in Miami. My brother quickly stepped between the prince and me and put his hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from Ryder’s soft grip still at my hand. “Okay, that’s enough. No need to go postal, Tasha. Just wait, ’kay?”

“I am not going postal. And I’m not waiting, either.”

“You will if you want to get Gramps back from the trolls and maybe find out about Mom and Dad. There are different rules here, Tasha, and for once you have to stop with being in control. You know we can’t go up against the trolls without weapons and this is the only way we’ll get what we need. So are you in or out?”

I stifled my growl by biting my lower lip. It really sucked when my brother actually made sense. “You’d better hurry ’cause I’m not waiting around here all day. And I still think it’s messed up and incredibly wrong.”

Tate shot me an apologetic grin as he followed Ryder into the blacksmith’s. I stooped against the rickety wagon in the chilly wind with my arms crossed over my chest. Brooke stomped her foot and spun around to me. “How can you stand there so calmly? I’m mad as a hornet and this doesn’t even concern me. Don’t you care that we’re being left behind?”

My chocolate brown eyes narrowed at her. “Of course I do. I’m a control freak and I hate being idol. But there are more important things to worry about and pouting isn’t going to help anything. So I’m not going to waste any energy doing it.”

Her big blue eyes blinked up at me. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. So are we just going to sit here and wait?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“I hope that you girls aren’t waiting for the blacksmith,” a new voice said so suddenly that I jumped. I twisted around quickly and stopped in a defensive crouch to get a glimpse of the newcomer. It was an old lady, shorter than me but made minuscule by stooping over her cane. Her mane of white hair was wild and partially obscured her knowing green eyes set in an intense web of wrinkles. She kind of creped me out after the run-in with Mother Gretchen. I pointedly ignored her. Brooke bit her bottom lip and her eyes darted between me and the woman for just a moment before she followed my lead. “S-so what do we do next?” she stuttered out trying to keep from looking at the woman.

“The blacksmith is a male chauvinistic idiot. And he won’t be able to help you on your quest, little wolf.”

I froze. Humans usually couldn’t tell the difference between a half wolf and normal person so she shouldn’t have known what I was. She especially shouldn’t have known about our quest. “Wh-what?”

“You won’t get much help from that jerk. Come with me. I know the best blacksmith in town.”

“If your guy is the best, why wouldn’t Ryder have taken us there to start with?” It was an obvious question but I was glad that Brooke asked it. I didn’t trust a random old woman who wanted us to go with her. Stranger danger and all that.

“My weapons-maker doesn’t get nearly enough credit. Come and I’ll show you.”

I shared a doubtful glance with Brooke. She looked nervous but shrugged, leaving the decision up to me. I tugged at the ends of my black hair as I mulled it over. She seemed pretty normal and I simply couldn’t just sit around doing nothing. I swallowed back my apprehension and nodded. “Okay. Lead the way.”

After about four minutes of walking, I was regretting blindly following the old woman. We left the town square and the neighborhood she led us to was completely run down. One house was half burnt while another was in desperate need of a roof. If this was a horror movie, this was the part where Brooke and I got attacked. She probably got the same sense of foreboding because she grabbed my arm and I could feel her hand shaking.

“Okay, lady, where are you taking us?” I finally demanded.

She leaned against a sketchy looking barn door and raised one snowy eyebrow at me. “Patience, puppy. Just trust me and you’ll be glad you did.”

I snorted. “Sorry, I’ve got trust issues.”

The old woman’s laugh was genuinely pleased by the snappy response. The wrinkles around her mouth were still a mass of webs as she pushed open the barn door. The sound of metal on metal was the first thing to reach me, followed by the smell of smoke and musty steam. An ash-covered figure stood near the fire with a hammer in hand as they beat at a piece of metal. The person was tall with their sleeves rolled up over strong forearms and the dark hair barely visible under their black cap.

“Iz, I brought you some customers.”

“Now Grandma, why would you go and do a thing like that?” My eyes widened in surprise at the bubbling girl’s voice, and by the soft, gorgeous facial features of the blacksmith when she turned. From the back, I would not have pictured this pretty girl who sounded like a fairy to be hard at work in a forge. She was covered in grime, but beneath that I could see the same sharp eyes as her grandmother and a nice olive complexion.

“Because,” Grandma snapped, “they need your expertise.”

“No one wants any of my work. Those morons in town blackballed me.”

“Izabel, show them your weapons.”

Izabel rolled her eyes and seemed to size up me and Brooke. Her blue eyes rested on me for a long time before she finally nodded. She turned her attention back to a large storage cabinet near her forges and emerged few seconds later with a bow and full quiver of metallic arrows, which she presented to Brooke. “For you.”

Brooke stared wide-eyed at the gift. “Really?”

Izabel simply nodded as Brooke took the bow and quiver. She watched as Brooke examined them reverently and tested the tension in the bowstring. “What a perfect pair you make.”

“How did you know?” Brooke muttered.

I finally came out of my shock and couldn’t keep mouth shut. “Know what?”

“I’m an archer. I actually know how to work a bow and I’d be pathetic with any other weapons in this place.”

“You are?” I simply couldn’t imagine a princess like Brooke even touching anything in Izabel’s shop.

“Yeah. I got into it after I read the Hunger Games.”

"Read the book? I would have figured you watched it just for the hot guys.”

She shrugged and took out an arrow to touch the point to her finger. She flipped it to grab the feathered end and notched it in on smooth motion. She aimed at a stack of hay for a second before letting the string go slack. “I never saw the movie; I didn’t want it to ruin the book.”

“Huh,” I said again. It was weird seeing Brooke as... human. She wasn’t that popular devil that wandered the school halls without a soul or a brain.

Izabel turned back to me. Her head cocked to the side as she studied me for one long minute. Her lips pursed like she was trying to figure out a hard math equation. She finally took my hand and pulled me over to her weapon cabinet. I gazed at all of the knives, swords, and axes she had stored and even ran my fingers along some of the edges. She was skilled, that was for sure, with blades sharp enough that my fingertips were a little cut up from barely touching them. Any one of her masterpieces would have been handy against the trolls. But I kept looking until a dagger caught my eye.

It was ten inches long with a wicked point. The handle was simple with a larger grip that perfectly fit into my hand. The dagger was light and sturdy and I could tell it could do some serious damage. “This one.”

Izabel blinked. Her head cocked to the side, loose black curls falling to her shoulder. “That one? Really?”

I cocked my head to the side, mimicking her curious look and wondering what I’d said wrong. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

She shot me a smile. The tough blacksmith exterior melted away and she looked almost proud of my choice. “Oh, it’s nothing bad. It’s just that the blade was melted down from that of an ax. The ax belonged to Red Riding Hood’s woodsman. That was the ax that killed the Alpha wolf two centuries ago.”

As a wolf, the woodsman was highly considered a murderer to my people. I felt like I should’ve thrown the knife away because of the horrendous deed it’d performed in its past form, but I didn’t want to get rid of it. Already it felt like part of me, like Izabel had been holding onto it just for me. “So why am I do drawn to this knife?”

The old woman shrugged easily. “That is the question. But these things do happen for a reason, even if we don’t know what that is. You are special, Tasha.”

Her words comforted me and for the first time in a while, I had complete faith in myself. I was descended from Queen Aurora, Maleficent, and the original Alpha. Who had more magic in their blood than me (besides my twin)? Those stupid trolls didn’t stand a chance against me and my dagger.

Izabel and her grandmother gave us everything we would need to face the trolls. All of Izabel’s creations were surprisingly light and super sharp. She leaned next to the older woman against the barn door with a smug grin as Brooke and I started back toward the town center. I froze at the end of the block and turned around. “Wait. You never told me how you know about me, or even who you are.”

The grizzled old lady smiled. “My name is Janos but you girls can just call me Grandma. I was at Aurora’s christening. I still have enough magic to sense her children and you, little one, project your own magic so it’s pretty easy to pick up on what you’re up to:”

“You were the fairy that found a loophole around Maleficent’s curse.”

Brooke’s jaw fell open and Janos smiled. She linked her arm through Izabel’s and they went back into the workshop. I stared for another second before Brooke pulled me back to meet up with the boys.

“Where have you two been? I couldn’t track you. How did you guys cover your scent?” Tate demanded when we got back to the wagon. I didn’t think we’d been gone long, but the sun was at a lower position and Ryder’s sunburnt nose said they’d been waiting a while.

“We had some things to take care of,” Brooke answered easily with a flip of her golden hair. A secretive smile played on her lips and she gave me a smug wink that said I was part of her little inside joke. “So how did it go?”

The boys exchanged embarrassed glances before Ryder spoke. “Well. Good news, we got a couple of swords. Bad news…”

He pulled three swords from the wagon. I winced when I saw them because they weren’t impressive at all. All three were bronze with rust and had dull, useless blades. The hilt of one was half broke off and I swear one of them was being held together by duct tape. They wouldn’t last against a harmless, tiny fairy, let alone two ruthless trolls three times my size.

“And these were the best the blacksmith had,” Tate added miserably. His head drooped in defeat and I knew he was feeling like a failure to save Mom and Dad. I almost felt sorry for his poor results at their stupid, sexist blacksmith. Almost, but not quite. ”We haggled down from the original price, but these are still terrible.”

“Dang, Grandma was right,” Brooke mumbled.

Tate’s head snapped up to peer at me worriedly. “Grandma?” he asked incredulously.

I could see the flash of nerves that flickered across my brother’s face. Our grandmother was now dead, but she’d been cunning and evil during her life, a true granddaughter of Maleficent, and it was probably magically possible for her to return to wreak havoc. “Don’t worry. It was a lady we met here in town. She said that the blacksmith’s not that good and he wouldn’t really be able to help much. So she took Brooke and me to meet her granddaughter, Izabel. Izabel is amazing, but doesn’t get nearly enough recognition because of the pigheaded men in this town.”

“That girl’s got some serious skills,” Brooke added with a blinding smile. She showed off her new bow and handed the guys the long broadswords Izabel had donated for them. Tate was quick to pull it from the leather sheath with a zink and tested its weight. He took a few practice swings and nodded to himself.

Ryder didn’t look nearly as impressed. He moved the sword so it angled the light back and forth with a little frown. He finally looked up at me without putting it away and narrowed his sky blue eyes. “Seriously, Tasha? You’re that naïve to go off with some stranger? Remember the last old woman we met? The one that tried to cook you? How stupid do you have to be to put Brooke and yourself in that kind of danger?”

I glowered at him. “Are you kidding me? At least Brooke and I got weapons we can actually use. And unless you’ve forgotten, I’m the only one that didn’t fall under that witch’s food spell.”

“You’re not getting my point!” he snapped. He and I had been fighting this whole trip, but this was the first time he yelled at me. My jaw locked before I could scream back at him. How did this annoying boy have the power to rile me up so much?

I rolled my eyes, which were most likely glowing a wolf’s golden color, at him and crawled up to the seat of the wagon. I gathered up the reins and glared down at the others. “If you’re coming then let’s go. But I’m leaving now.” My words growled out from between clenched teeth.

Tate watched me warily for a second as he helped Brooke into the back of the wagon. Ryder’s jaw stayed tight as he climbed in after them leaving me to have the driver’s bench to myself. I gave the reins a slight flick and the old horse started off. Brooke was brave because despite the thick tension, she started making conversation with Tate and even went so far as to tell him about Izabel and Grandma. Ryder stayed silent in the back and soon I started to drown out the buzz the two made. I felt a little bad that they were caught in the middle of our fight. Maybe when I wasn’t so angry I’d try to make it up to them. For now I stared straight ahead as I drove so I wouldn’t go into attack mode on Prince Riding Hood.