Under the Same Stars by Libba Bray(26)
Miles laughs. Gatorade dribbles onto his shirt, leaving a pinkish streak. He blots the mess with some used tissues. “Toxic masculinity, medieval edition,” he says, hoping it makes him sound smart and feminist enough. “What happened to the hare and the deer?”
“Oh, they were always, like, outsmarting everybody. I mean, they had magic on their side. The tree kept them and their secrets safe as long as they promised to keep it company. Basically, it was like the same story each time with some minor variations—Mormor wasn’t big on changing it up. She had her limits.”
“Me with essays. Sorta coincidental, though.”
“What?”
“Two sisters who go into a forest? Sophie and Hanna disappeared into a forest…,” he says.
“Yeah. I see your point, but it’s kind of a reach. First of all, there are three missing people in that article, not two, and I promise you Saga and Freya did not have a brother weaver.”
“I feel attacked.”
Chloe grins. “And there was never anything in the story about the sisters disappearing. In fact, they were total sheroes. They defeated the mad king and kicked some serious hunter butt. Evil went down hard every time.”
“Well, there’s that at least.” Miles’s computer pings with a new Google alert. “I might’ve gotten another hit on our mystery.”
“Was it Colonel Mustard in the Drawing Room with the Lead Pipe?”
“It’s always Colonel Mustard in the Drawing Room. Also, let’s bring back drawing rooms.” This feels like the old days. Mormor’s mystery is its own magic spell, pulling them together again. “Huh.”
“What?”
“Nacht und Nebel?”
“What’s that? Sounds like a show in Vegas.”
“Apparently, it means ‘Night and Fog.’ Says it was a Nazi terror tactic, a way of disappearing people—making them vanish without a trace: ‘Under cover of night and shrouded in fog.’”
“Our missing teens?”
“Maybe? Or just a case of drunk algorithm. Man, I’ve got newfound respect for Mystery Mavens. This stuff is hard.”
“Yeah, but, like, they’ve got whole research teams to help.”
“Well. We’re a team.” He does the Hulk pose to keep it jokey, just in case.
Chloe smiles. He imagines her on campus in sunny California with a new boyfriend—some über-smart vegan guitar god who is not a sarcastic fuckup with a chronic case of I-don’t-know- what-to-do-with-my-future.
“You okay? Your face got weird,” Chloe says.
“That’s just my face.” He puts on his TV announcer voice: “Friend, do you suffer from weird face? Ask your doctor if OhShitIGotWeirdFace might be right for you.”
Chloe giggles. It’s all the encouragement Miles needs.
“Side effects might include emptying your colon spontaneously, loose teeth, touching yourself in public, calling fruits and vegetables by the wrong names, and nipple spasms.”
Chloe laughs harder. He feels his shoulders relax. Dodger whines and paces at the door.
“Buddy…” Miles sighs. But Dodger is insistent. “Hey. Sorry. I gotta go empty a dog.”
“Aww, Dodger!” Chloe coos. The pitbull swishes his tail. “Okay. I’m gonna listen to Mormor’s tapes. Maybe there will be spy secrets on there!”
“We are gonna have the best podcast that jock itch money can buy!”
“I’m seriously gonna murder you.”
He doesn’t want the call to end so soon. Just before he hangs up, she asks, “Hey. Um. I could use some comfort TV. Wanna do a rewatch of Steven Universe together tonight?”
And just like that, Miles feels as if he’s boarded the F train out to Coney on the sunniest day of summer.
THE TALE OF THE HARE AND THE DEER
Once upon a time there was a peaceable kingdom that fell into treachery and evil. This was a long time ago, before you were born. The kingdom was called Almany. It was a verdant land.
You remember you asked me what verdant means?
Yes, green and lush. From the Latin—virēre.
There was a lake that held the people’s sighs and secrets and a sweet-smelling forest where deer and rabbits played. The crowning glory of this forest was a magnificent old oak. It was said that whoever wished upon the tree would have their wishes granted if they truly believed. For there was also magic in this land.
Almany was ruled by a king and queen who were known to be good and kind and fair. Their castle sat on a hill above the kingdom. It had stone walls covered with ivy, and in spring, fat pink roses poked their heads up between the vines. There was a fine stone bridge across the lake, and in front of the castle was a bronze statue of a nobleman atop his grand horse. It was said that he was so handsome people fell in love. Yes. With a statue. For many years it was this way in Almany—peaceful and soft and happy—until the day that the good queen took ill. For kindness, even very deep kindness, is no guarantee of safety. Soon, the good queen died. The king was inconsolable. In his grief, he became a recluse and sent in his stead his eldest son, Prince Alexander, to perform his duties in other lands.
Now, there was also a courtier by the name of Aldred who coveted the throne. His heart was scarred by a hunger for power and vengeance that could never find peace. But though Aldred had a wicked heart, he possessed a silver tongue, and with it, he spun lies that ensorcelled the citizens of Almany.