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“You said it yourself,” Axel said. “This is a dangerous spell. It means your soul, or whatever that is, will be inside  the Dream Temple. Didn’t I tell you being inside leads to insanity while the dream is locked?”

Fable lowered her head, unable to utter a word. She really wanted Loki’s and Shew’s love to prevail. This crazy fairy tale world wouldn’t mean much to her if she lost any of them.

“Listen to me, Fable,” Axel walked toward his sister and hugged her. “I might be harsh on you sometimes, and I know I am not the best brother in the world, but I can’t bear the thought of living without you. I love Loki and Shew, but think of it, Fable. This is not our fight. We’re not one of those fairy tale characters. We are simply two nerdy orphans and we only got each other. Do you understand?”

“I do, bro,” Fable hugged him tighter. “I just wanted to help. I can’t stand it being here, not knowing what’s happening in the Dreamworld.”

“That’s my sis,” Axel said. “Besides, what would Itsy and Bitsy do without you?” he hated his sister’s spiders, but if it made her laugh he didn’t mind pretending to love them.

“You hate my spiders, Axel,” Fable said.

“Who said that? Just wait until we get back, and I promise you I will feed them both myself.”

“And you need to let Itsy sleep next to you in bed,” Fable had to take advantage of the moment.

“But of course,” Axel gritted his teeth behind her back, imagining all the possible ways to choke both spiders, “as long as I don’t have any girls sleeping over.”

Fable hit him lightly in his stomach, “I just remembered it wasn’t going to work anyway.”

“How so?”

“I need Loki’s full name to posses his body, We call it true name in magic. Each person has a true name that without the spell doesn’t work,” Fable explained. “I remember he told us that Blackstar wasn’t his real name. It was given to him by Charmwill, which makes me curious to know if you really discovered who his father was.”

“OK,” Axel said and went back to grab his phone. “I will tell you now about my genius discovery, but first you have to tell me more about true names.”

“It’s easy,” Fable said. “Remember the old Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale every one heard as a kid?”

“Of course,” Axel said. “I always suspect it has to do something with Professor Rumpelstein. The names are similar.”

“Maybe, but that’s not the point,” Fables said. “In the fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin, which I assume you know well, the imp who has stolen a firstborn promised his mom he will return her child only is she could guess his true name. And then later she does, and has control over him and is able to kill him.”

“So?”

“So we all though this was just a story when this is a part of true magic,” Fable said. “To make a spell work on someone, especially very powerful spells, the witch or the performer needs to know someone true name, which usually their real name. But in the a world like a Kingdom of Sorrow, I assumed a true name is something even deeper than that. I am just assuming.”

“And I learned something new from my sister today,” Axel said proudly, scrolling his phone. “Now, in order to tell you my new discover about Loki’s father, I need to send one last message to Genius Goblin. I need to ask him something. The man is a guru.”

21

A Massacre in Furry Tell

Shew and Cerené watched the horde of Huntsmen invade the small town of Furry Tell. Their black cloaks fluttered in the wind hardly resisting their unicorns’ intensity.

The unicorns were hornless with a third eye where their horns had been cut off, all but Loki’s, the leader of all Huntsmen. His unicorn was black, and instead of a third eye, it had a horn. Shew recognized it immediately because it was Loki's famous Alicorn.

Wherever Loki rode his unicorn, the laughing wind spiraled around him. It was like a second conscious, a ghostly black wind that waved like a guardian curtain, showing face and hands. It talked like a human, and it applauded Loki each time he chopped off one of the villager’s heads.

"I can’t believe my eyes," Shew looked away from the blood and gore Loki was spreading in the town. At least, she’d seen him from far away. She didn’t think she could take it if she had been closer.

“That’s horrible,” Cerené muttered, changing her mind about her fascination with the Huntsman whose blonde hair fluttered from under his hood as he rode and killed through town.

“Furry Tell is such a small community. Hundred people or more, maybe,” Shew said. “Why would he kill them so heartlessly?”

“He wouldn’t do it unless the Queen of Sorrow demanded it,” Cerené said. “I heard he tends to kill ninety nine people whenever he raises his sword. He calls it his lucky number," she said.

“Why ninety nine?” Shew wondered.

"I heard the Queen of Sorrow made him the master Huntsman after he'd killed ninety nine vampires on his own in a battle on the borders. But that was some time ago when he was still that cute boy in the king’s army," Cerené said.

Shew wondered where Angel was in all of this. She remembered Angel had been away for long periods while fighting the Intruders, sometimes for a whole year. He’d always been proud of Loki. That’s why Loki had been so close to the royal family, and why Angel had assigned him to protect her personally later. She thought it was an unwise move by Angel to assign Loki as her guardian. Loki was one of the youngest and bravest fighters in his army. Demoting him to a position where he protected the princess didn’t make sense. Maybe he’d been worried about Carmilla hurting Shew, and he thought that Loki would be the perfect protector for the princess. How could Angel forget about Loki’s past, being a son of an angel and demon?

Ironically, it was exactly what Carmilla needed.

Shew turned back to look at the Furry Tell massacre. Loki was killing unapologetically. She wondered if he’d known why he was doing it. Had he just become a marionette played by Carmilla, the puppeteer?

He never missed someone’s head, not once. His chops were swift and he never looked back at the heads that rolled on the ground. Some of the other huntsmen picked up a head and started kicking it with their feet while the laughing wind clapped among them. Shew was too shattered to notice that she was witnessing one of the earliest soccer games in history.

Loki’s face wasn’t visible underneath the hood, and Shew still wished it wasn’t him. What if she pulled the hood down and discovered that it wasn’t him, wouldn’t that be the best thing that ever happened to her?

You know it’s him, Shew. Don't try to change it. You can feel it in your heart. Even if you can’t remember everything, you never forgot him. He tried to kill you in the Queen's name when you were sixteen. Only you don't remember how he fell in love with you after that.

"Listen," Shew said. "Stay here, Cerené. I’m going down to Furry Tell."

"No! You stay here."

"I have to go. Maybe he remembers me," Shew said.

"Of course, he remembers you. He is in the Queen's service. Why wouldn't he remember the princess?"

"I don't mean it like that. I mean remember—" Shew held her tongue. She was going to mention that Loki should remember she was the one he loved. Maybe if she managed to kiss him, she'd save him like he’d saved her in the Schloss.

"There is nothing we can do, Shew," Cerené pressed her hand. "I don't think I like him anymore after what I just saw. I mean hearing about someone killing and being powerful is one thing and seeing him do that is something else. How could he kill so many people? There are women with their children down there. He is just like the Queen, and my stepfamily."