“I am sure he’s as hungry as you,” Fable teased him. “So why is Jack connected to beans, again?”
Axel shot her a disbelieving look. “Jack owned beans that when planted grew a very tall
“Oh, sorry,” Fable said. “I told you I hated the tale. But wait!”
“What is it now?” Axel sighed impatiently.
“There were no beans on the dwarves table in the Snow White fairy tale,” Fable said.
“There were vegetables,” Axel said. “Beans are vegetables.”
“They are? Did we learn that in school?” Fable wondered.
“You don’t learn that beans are vegetables in school, Fable,” Axel said. “You might learn that Shakespeare is a poet—but even that you got wrong; you think he is a wizard.”
“He is a wizard,” Fable insisted. “He just didn’t want the likes of you to know it. Anyway, did you notice the breadcrumbs being one of the items?”
“I did, so what?”
“Sounds very much like you, Axel,” Fable said. “Maybe you’re a fairy tale character and you don’t know it,” she laughed.
“Of course, I am,” Axel said proudly. “I am Axelus the Great. Besides, I eat a lot of food. I don’t leave breadcrumb trails all over the place. That would be you, actually.”
“How dare you? I clean up after you all the time,” Fable drew a finger in the air as if it were a sword.
“OK. OK.,” Axel raised his hands like a white flag. “We’ve got more important things to discuss now. Since you like this part of J.G.’s diary, let me show you something really crazy here,” Axel said, pointing at certain pages in the middle of the diary. “I keep seeing these seven pages, and I’m unable to understand its content.” Axel showed her seven consecutive pages in the diary resembling tarot cards.
“What is that?”
“It seems to me that J.G. failed to connect the Lost Seven to the items so he continued his research until he came upon an incomplete drawing of seven tarot cards,” Axel said “He’d probably seen them somewhere and copied them. He says they are clues to the Lost Seven.”
“Is that the Grimm Reaper?” Fable adjusted her glasses, pointing at a drawing of a red-cloaked girl with a scythe. “How could the Grimm Reaper be one of the Lost Seven?”
“It says ‘Reaper’ on top, and it’s not just any reaper,” Axel commented. “This looks like a girl reaper. Ever heard of anything like that?”
“No,” Fable said. “Did you ever hear about a fairy tale with a Grimm Reaper in it?”
Axel shook his head no.
“What’s on the next card?” Fable wondered.
Axel flipped the page, showing a tarot of a witch.
“A witch,” Fable chewed the words. “And what’s that at her feet?”
“Looks like breadcrumbs,” Axel assumed. “See, the witch looks like you, not me.”
“She’s cloaked. Why do you think it is a she? You can’t tell,” Fable said.
“Whether a she or a he, I think I know who it is,” Axel said. “Remember Hansel and Gretel?”
“Of course,” Fable giggled. “I love that tale. It’s my favorite. I love Gretel, but despise Hansel.”
Axel shrugged, lost in the page in front of him.
“You and I really make a good Hansel and Gretel,” he said absently.
“Nice one,” Fable said. “And we have a Candy House…” suddenly, she stopped. The resemblance was too weird. She gazed at Axel, both sharing an intense moment with appalled eyes. Could it be they were Hansel and Gretel? The thought lingered in the air for a while. Both of them were speechless.
Finally, they broke the tension with a big laugh, “you and me, Hansel and Gretel,” Fable said, “that’s impossible.”
“You’re right about that,” Axel said. “I guess I was hoping my sis was one of the Lost Seven so I’d eat for free at the Belly and the Beast.”
“So what’s the next card,” Fable demanded, wanting to skip this uncomfortable moment.
The third tarot showed a thief. It was a boy, wearing a green hat, and a smirk on his face. It had Thief written on top of the page.
“He looks funny,” Fable raised an eyebrow. “I’m curious about him. Are those beans in his hand? If that’s Jack, I changed my mind. I like him.”
Axel flipped the page, not wanting Fable staring too long at the cute boy. “And here we have…” Axel raised an eyebrow now.
“A moon?” Fable laughed. “How could the moon be one of the Lost Seven?”
“Maybe J.G. didn’t know much about this Pilgrimm,” Axel said. “This could just be a clue.”
“OK. Flip to the next page, maybe we’ll find something that really makes sense,” Fable said.
The next page showed a beast so ugly Axel twitched his lips, preferring not to look at it.
“The Beast,” Fable mused. “I can’t even tell if it’s a boy or girl. Why would Shew share her heart with such an ugly creature?”
“The next one is a Star,” Axel flipped to an almost empty page that only had the word star handwritten in the middle. “How convenient, one of the Lost Seven is the moon, and the other is a star. This J.G. lost his mind.”
“And who’s the seventh of the Lost Seven?” Fable flipped the page herself. “What is this?” she looked as if someone had just burst her balloon.
“The Phoenix,” Axel stared at the picture of a bird with purple wings, the bird looked as if it was burning. “You know what a phoenix is, right Fable?”
“Of course, I know. I do your homework, Axel,” Fable said absently.
“You do my homework but you don’t know that beans are vegetables,” he mumbled.
“A phoenix is a bird that burns at the end of its life then rises again from its own ashes,” Fable explained.
“Like Zombies,” Axel giggled. Fable was too entranced by the picture of the Phoenix to comment. “Why do I think this is a big clue?” Axel said.
“It is,” Fable said. “But I don’t know what it means.”
“I’m not following,” Axel replied.
“When we were chasing Loki, I heard him mutter something to himself repeatedly, as if he was trying not to forget it,” Fable raised her eyes, meeting Axel’s. “He kept saying, ‘The Phoenix.’”
“So?”
“I have no idea,” Fable said. “All I know is that according to this J.G., she is one of the Lost Seven,” Fable turned back to the Dream Temple protected by the purple light. “Loki isn’t there to kill Snow White. He’s there for the Phoenix,” she uttered her discovery.
“So the Queen sent him to kill the Phoenix?” Axel said.
“Why kill her?” Fable said. “She probably wants to find her to collect Shew’s first piece of heart. Are you sure there isn’t anything else about the Phoenix in this diary.”
“Um,” Axel flipped through the pages. “The only other mention of the Phoenix is an article here where J.G. explains his frustration about the Phoenixes.”
“I don’t follow,” Fable said.
“He says that the Phoenix is the only one of the Lost Seven that he knew the real name of—he is very big on the power of what he calls ‘true names’,” Axel said. “He writes that whenever he has his hands on manuscripts with the Phoenix’s real name, he is confused by other manuscripts that call her something different.”
“So the Phoenix is a girl,” Fable said. “Do you have those names?”
“Wait a second,” Axel flipped. “I have come across them but the writing was too small and almost wiped out—here it is,” he handed Fable the diary.
“I have dyslexia, and you’re handing it to me?” Fable said, already reading it.
“You read smaller fonts better than me,” Axel argued.
“OK,” Fable drew her glasses closer. “One of the names is Cerene—I am not sure how to spell it. And at some point he thought her name was Ember. And then at some other point he thought her name was…” Fable raised her eyes to meet Axel. She looked like she’d seen her dead mother.
