Fable (An Unfortunate Fairy Tale 3)

“Prince before pauper.”

“Oh, fine. Just don’t say chivalry is dead. ’Cause you had your chance.” He went down the steps first, stepping confidently over the plastic bottles and cardboard containers.

“Do you have a flashlight?” she asked, feeling uneasy.

“You’re not scared of the dark, are you?”

“No, it’s not the dark that scares me. It’s the unknown…and you,” she whispered.

He wasn’t supposed to have heard the last two words, but he did. He turned on his heels quickly to face her, making Mina stumble on a glass bottle and skid into him. He deftly caught her against his chest, and when she struggled to remove herself from his grip, he didn’t let go at first.

“Careful,” he said. Pushing her back away from him roughly, Jared reached down, picked up a glass Coca-Cola bottle, and closed his eyes. A few seconds later a bright light emanated from inside the bottle. “Here you go. It will only last for a few minutes, but it should help chase the scary monsters away…including me.”

Mina took the glass Coke bottle from Jared and stared at it in wonder. It was beautiful, a treasure, and it indeed lit up the passageway quite nicely. Walking with it, she could feel soft warmth coming from the bottle, but it never once burned her.

“It’s right up here.” He led them another twenty feet before he came to a dead end.

“There’s nothing there.”

“Aren’t you the observant one,” he replied sarcastically. “I bet you could always find Waldo, too. Now, bring the bottle closer so I can see.”

She complied, and Jared reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small metal box. He selected two odd-shaped objects and inserted them into a miniscule hole in the wall. She could hear a few clicks of metal on metal.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Since I don’t have a key to this fine establishment, I’m picking the lock.”

“But you just used magic on the other lock. Why can’t you do that on this one?”

“Because the other one was a magic lock, and this one isn’t. It’s a regular Schlage five-pin, so stop talking and let me concentrate…or would you rather do the lock picking?” He held the lock picks out to her.

Mina shook her head but asked, “If we are going to these people for help, why don’t we just knock and use the front door?”

Jared’s shoulders hunched in guilt. “Because I never knock. I shouldn’t have to knock.”

“So you just do this for your own enjoyment.”

“Yes, and to see the look on their faces when I get the better of them.” He grinned at Mina, and under the glow of the Coca-Cola-induced light, he looked stunning. So handsome that she almost forgave him for wanting to give up on finding her brother.

“A-ha!” The lock clicked, and he doused the light. Jared reached behind him and grabbed Mina’s hand, and opened the door silently. A soft glow filled the passageway, and they entered a large library. Jared pushed the bookcase door they’d just entered through closed without a click.

There was a fire burning in the fireplace on the far wall, and the lounge chairs looked warm and inviting. One of them was currently occupied.

Mina watched as an arm reached out to take a teacup from a side table and disappeared behind the back of the chair. A few seconds later the cup was replaced, and the shuffle of a newspaper could be heard; the reader had not noticed their intrusion.

Something warned her to not say a word, mostly because Jared had been existentially quiet since they’d entered this room. He got Mina’s attention with a wave of his hand and gestured to the west side of the room with his head. She turned to Jared and poked him in the arm, hard.

He cringed and dropped his shoulders, refusing to look at her. She pinched him harder until he turned around and swatted at her hands.

“We’re breaking into someone’s house?” She mouthed the words dramatically, and then hit him on the top of the head.

He tried to shush her with his hands, and then made a sheepish grin and nodded.

Mina scrunched up her face and raised her hands as if to strangle him, but got herself in check. Why? she motioned with her hands.

“Because you asked for help,” he whispered, while never taking his eyes off the occupant in the chair.