The Grimm Legacy

strong legs.

I walked over and inspected him. His legs seemed steady. “How long can you go on sitting that way?” I asked.

“As long as you want, unless we have to run a call slip or something. It’s a comfortable chair,” said Aaron. “Want to try it?” He got up and stepped aside, as if he were offering me his chair.

“Ha! You can’t fool me. You just got up because your legs were tired,” I said.

“My legs, tired? From sitting in this comfortable chair? Don’t be silly. Try it, you’ll see,” he said.

“Okay, I will.” I lowered myself slowly along the wall.

A little past the point where the chair seat should have been I lost my balance and slid to the floor.

Aaron held out his hand, laughing. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth! I tried to stop that elf from pulling the chair out from under you at the last minute, but I didn’t catch him in time. Bad elf!”

“Pig!” I said, laughing myself and letting Aaron pull me to my feet. “I don’t really feel like sitting anyway,” I said. It seemed like such a waste to be sitting still in a room full of magic. I strolled over to the cabinets.

“What are you doing?” asked Aaron.

“Just looking around.”

“Don’t touch anything.”

“I’m not. Don’t touch anything yourself,” I said.

“No, really. All kidding aside, this stuff is dangerous. Don’t touch.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Instead of sitting back down with his book, Aaron strolled beside me.

“What’s the matter, you don’t trust me? You’re the one who tricked me into falling all over the floor,” I said, but I didn’t actually mind having him there. On my last visit down here, I remembered, the very air had seemed to be holding its breath with a threatening buzz. The place felt less threatening with Aaron there.

“You’re saying I made you weak in the knees? Well, I do tend to have that effect on girls,” said Aaron.

“You mean they trip all over their feet trying to get away from you?”

“Ooh, harsh,” he said.

I sniffed as I strolled, enjoying the shifting smells. Faint jasmine. Or was it honeysuckle? No, fresh-caught fish when you fillet it on the dock before putting it in the cooler. No, a wet feather pillow. No, plastic bags. Cough syrup.

We passed the bowls and cauldrons, the bottles, the shoes.

“Hey, Aaron. How come there are so many shoes down here?”

He shrugged. “They show up in a lot of fairy tales. ‘Puss in Boots.’ ‘Cinderella.’ ‘The Elves and the Shoemaker.’ Those stupid dancing princesses.”

“Stupid? That’s my favorite story! What’s stupid about them?”

“They were too busy thinking about dancing to notice a great big soldier in their boat, for one thing.”

“But he was invisible!”

“Like that would stop you from noticing. He was following them the whole time.”

“Well, the youngest princess did notice. She heard him breaking twigs in the forests of silver and gold and diamonds.”

“Okay, so maybe she was less stupid than her sisters. But she still had that dancing obsession like the rest of them. She wore out her shoes dancing every night. You wouldn’t waste all your nights like that, would you?”

“I couldn’t afford to,” I said, thinking of how much I’d enjoyed my dance classes with Nicole and my friends at my old school. But no more dance classes and no more old school, with Dad spending our money putting my stepsisters through college. “Which brings us back to the shoes in this collection. Why so many?”

“I don’t know. There weren’t any cars back when the Brothers Grimm were collecting stuff. Maybe they thought about shoes a whole lot because they had to walk everywhere and their feet hurt.”

“That’s an interesting theory. You think maybe other stuff was just as important, but the Grimm guys only noticed the shoe aspect? Like, they missed whole stories about hats and scarves because their feet hurt?”

Aaron laughed. “Yeah, I bet you’re right. There are a few hats here, but not nearly as many as the shoes.”

“So how did you get this job, anyway?” I asked.

“My science teacher.”

“Why’d he pick you?”

“For my brains and good looks, obviously.”

“Yeah, right. My social studies teacher picked me, but I can’t really figure out why.”

“For your brains and good looks, obviously.”

“Um, thanks.” Had Aaron just complimented me? Wow.

“Seriously, though,” I said. “Why us? I can’t believe my luck to be in a place like this. You know how when you were a little kid reading fairy tales, you always dreamed that the magic was true? Why are we the ones who get to find out it is?”

Aaron nodded slowly. “I know,” he said. “For me it was science fiction, but yeah, that’s exactly how I feel too. How can we be so lucky? Is it really just affinities, like Doc says?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the things you’re drawn to. The things you find compelling. Like the way I’m always trying to figure out how stuff works. Or with you, you always seem to be looking closely at everything. You see how objects relate to each other. It’s as if, for you, the whole world is alive.” He paused, then added with a little smile, “Except maybe invisible chairs.”

Wow, had he noticed that about me? That was pretty observant. “You know, you’re right,” I said. “I think I got that from my mother. She cared about objects, but not in a material way. She was always looking for the souls in things. She had this great antique doll collection—she treated them as if they were alive. Like she knew they had a past.”

We reached the end of the room and turned back toward the door. As we passed the rack of paintings, I felt eyes on my back, as if the figures in the paintings were looking at me.

Even with Aaron there, I felt spooked.

We heard a noise up front. The door was rattling, as if someone—or something—was trying to get in. I froze, then told myself not to be so silly. But I noticed Aaron looked alarmed too. 

“Who’s there?” he asked loudly. 

“It’s just me.” Anjali’s voice came through the door faint and muffled. “For some reason my key’s not working.” 

“Hang on, we’ve got another one. You need two now,” I said. I held my clip to the door, sang the opening chant as softly and quickly and in key as I could, and pushed the door open. 

“Thanks, Elizabeth,” said Anjali. 

“Are you running a slip? What’s the item?” Aaron asked. He had that eager sound in his voice again, the way he always did around Anjali, and I remembered that I hated him. 

“No, I—I think I forgot something last week. My . . . sweater. I think I left it in the back.” 

It sounded like an excuse she’d made up on the spot. “I think I saw it back near the paintings. I’ll show you,” I said. Aaron got up to follow us. “You better stay here and keep an eye on the pneums,” I told him. 

“If one comes, I’ll hear it thump.” 

Boy, was he persistent! He just couldn’t keep away from her. “No, really, I—I need to talk to Anjali about something. Girl stuff again,” I said. 

“Fine.” He sat back down. 

Anjali and I walked back toward the wall of paintings. I stopped in front of the shoe section. “I know you didn’t actually forget your sweater. Is it the boots again?” I whispered. 

Anjali nodded. She took the real boots out of her book bag and swapped them for the fakes, switching the tag. This time I found I could tell them apart easily. They might look exactly the same, but they gave off a different atmosphere. It was obvious—I didn’t even have to sniff. I wondered how I could ever have missed it. 

“Can’t you make Marc stop taking them? He’s going to get in trouble. He’s going to get