The Grimm Legacy

“If you kiss Marc.” 

“Elizabeth! Are you in love with Merritt too?” said Jaya. 

“Even though he’s dating my sister?” 

“No!” I said. “Anjali’s my friend, and Marc—well, Marc’s a prince. I would never dream . . .” 

“Go ahead, kiss him,” said Aaron. “You know you love him. All girls do.” 

“You first,” I said. 

“Both at once, when I count to three,” said Jaya. “One, two . . .” 

I lifted Marc, hot with embarrassment. In spite of being a little brass weight, he looked so much like himself that it felt like one of those dreams where you’re doing something you would never do in real life with someone . . . well, one of those dreams. 

“Three!” 

I closed my eyes and kissed. The metal was cold on my lips. 

I opened my eyes. The brass figurine of Marc hadn’t changed. 

Aaron was holding the puppet Anjali. “Did you kiss her?” I asked him. 

“You weren’t lying. You really don’t . . . ,” he said. 

“Did you kiss Anjali?” I asked again. 

“No, not yet.” 

“Cheater! What are you waiting for?” 

“I was watching you. I wanted to see if—I wanted to know—” 

“Go on, Aaron! Kiss my sister already! I want her back,” said Jaya impatiently. “Even though she’s really annoying and bossy,” she added. 

Aaron shrugged and lifted the puppet to his lips. 

I found I was holding my breath. 

He kissed Anjali. 

Nothing happened. She stayed a puppet. 

I let out my breath slowly. My heart, I discovered, was pounding. Aaron looked at me. I looked away. 

“Not just any kiss will work,” Doc said, “only the Kiss of True Love.” 

“Great,” I said. Despite myself, I felt my heart soar. Aaron didn’t truly love Anjali after all! “The Kiss of True Love—where are we going to find that?” 

“The Marc Merritt fan club?” suggested Aaron. 

“He said the Kiss of True Love, not the Kiss of Puppy Love,” I said. 

“What if Andre kisses Marc?” I asked. “He really does love him.” 

“That won’t work,” said Aaron. “He already did, and it didn’t. We need the Kiss of True Love, not the Kiss of Brotherly Love.” 

“You know who loves Anjali and Merritt? They love each other!” said Jaya. She picked up the two figurines and smushed their faces together. “Mwah, mwah, MWAH!” she shouted. 

“Oh, like that’s going to work,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“No, wait—look!” Aaron grabbed my arm. 

The air around Anjali and Marc grew thicker, like a fog of diamonds. I felt the rose stir in my hair. A smell of roses filled the air, as if all the roses in the Garden of Seasons had hurried over to watch. Colors swirled in the mist. It intensified, slowly, slowly, until I could hardly stand to look, and just as slowly it dispersed. 

There stood Marc and Anjali, full size, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. They looked perfectly human—or, at least, as human as a couple in love can look. 

Chapter 26: The willpower of a librarian

“Butter!” Andre threw himself at Marc’s legs. Marc looked down. He didn’t say anything, just opened his arms wide and swept Andre up in a huge hug, grinning his head off. What I felt for Marc might not be true love, but I had to admit he was incredibly handsome, especially with that smile on his face. 

Marc turned to Jaya. “Thank you,” he said. 

“Yes, good job, kid,” said Anjali, hugging her sister. “Although I could have done with a lot less of the whole moving-me-around-like-a-puppet thing.” 

“I liked you as a puppet,” said Jaya. “And you have to admit I’m a good puppet master. You would still be a puppet if I weren’t.” 

“Welcome back, both of you,” said Doc. 

“Thank you,” said Marc. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Aaron. I, um, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. You tried to save me from Badwin back there. I owe you.” It’s hard to look dignified and repentant with a crowing three-year-old on your shoulders, but he did it. 

“Yeah, well,” said Aaron. He sounded embarrassed. “It didn’t work, did it?” 

“That’s not the point. She could have killed you. Thank you.” 

“Yes, thank you, Aaron,” said Anjali. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He turned bright red and looked at me. 

I felt a sudden breeze, as if I were fainting. 

“Elizabeth, watch out!” Jaya yelled. 

The enormous bird had opened its eyes and leapt out of the tree straight at me. I ducked and threw my arms over my face. It landed on my shoulder—it was like having a motorcycle land on you—and reached for my head with its vast, hooked beak. 

I was too scared even to scream. I shut my eyes. Why hadn’t I left well enough alone? The bird was dying before I helped it. Was this my reward? 

It was taking the bird an awfully long time to tear me to pieces. I peeked at it. 

“Crawk,” it said. With its vicious beak, it began gently combing my hair. 

“You seem to have made a friend, Elizabeth,” said Doc. 

The bird looked at me with one yellow eye. It was the size of a cereal bowl. 

“I expect she likes being scratched under the chin,” said Doc. 

“But its neck—her neck,” I said. “She’s hurt.” 

I was wrong. The wound was gone. My fingers found nothing but soft feathers. 

“You washed her wound with fountain water, didn’t you? The water here has healing powers.” 

“Creek,” said the bird softly, taking my earlobe in its beak and twirling my earring around with its tongue. It tickled. 

“You’re kind of heavy, bird. And that tickles. Dr. Rust, what is this bird?” 

“I’m not sure, probably a crossbreed. She looks like a roc, only a whole lot smaller.” 

“Smaller!” It was the biggest bird I’d ever seen, or even heard of. 

Doc nodded. “Rocs are the size of a house—a big one. Our friend here would fit nicely in a Manhattan studio apartment. And she has those scallops on her wings and the pink cere. A cross between a roc and a parakeet, maybe.” 

“A parakeet? Those little birds they sell for ten dollars at the pet shop?” 

Doc nodded. 

“You’re a pretty big parakeet,” I told the bird. 

“Crock,” she agreed. 

“That still tickles.” 

“Why is Polly being nice now, when she tried to kill us before?” asked Jaya. “Isn’t this the monster bird that was chasing you?” 

“Wallace Stone must have put her under a spell, and the fountain water must have broken it,” said Doc.