Page 4 of A Castle of Broken Memories

Abuela… frail? I couldn’t even begin to fathom such a thing. She was always so strong and fierce. What, eight years ago when you last took the time to visit? Even alphas grow old eventually. Guilt twinged deep inside my chest. I should have gone back, should have paid closer attention. It’s not too late. She’s asking for help. You can still be the woman she needs you to be. Squaring my shoulders, I returned my attention to the missive before me.

How are you supposed to do that, you ask? The answer, my dear Little Red, requires a bit of a story. One that goes all the way back to my childhood, when the werewolves and vampires still lived together in Mondue. I was twelve, and the enchanted storm had come out of nowhere, taking hold of the clouds above the village and cutting off access to the giants’ castle. Fear and confusion spread like wildfire, and an eerie shadow fell over the entire town. When we discovered we could no longer ascend the beanstalk, it was all the more devastating. The giants’ love of Mondue wine was the cornerstone of the village’s economy. Without their patronage, money became scarce. It was a dark time for all who dwelled there.

My family’s savings soon dwindled and without any incoming revenue, we found ourselves on the brink of starvation. Something had to be done. I’d been practicing my potions—nothing complicated, but good, solid work all the same. So I collected what I had and ventured out into the northern forest, planning to try my luck at the night market. On my way there, however, I came across an old man with a beard down to his toes and the brightest twinkle in his blue eyes. He was sitting on a stump by the roadside, rubbing his bare feet, the bottoms of which were riddled with painful blisters. I asked if he wanted to buy one of my healing potions, but he shook his head and said he hadn’t a penny to his name. It was foolish, seeing as I was in pretty much the same boat, but I couldn’t help myself—I gave him one anyway. In return, he gave me a bag of rainbow-colored beans.

“Throw one of these beans into any barrier or portal and the way will be made clear,” he said. “But—it will not last long. A single hour and the way will close once more.”

I was elated. Here was a way to pass through the clouds to the giants’ castle! But when I returned home and showed my mother, she scolded me for believing a stranger’s tall tale and bid me to rid myself of the useless beans at once lest I be tempted to do something dangerous. Instead, I hid them, and when I grew older and more practiced in my craft, experimented on them.

Because of course she did. My clever abuela and her ever-brimming curiosity.

They were, in fact, extremely powerful.

It was the beans that allowed me to craft our rings. I made one for myself and another for your abuelo, Wilhelm, when we bonded. A third was crafted when the werewolves began multiplying and the forest grew too cramped to hold us all. Since then, the majority of our race has relocated outside the forest—all except the younger, more wild ones such as you and your pack. Some of the vampires relocated, as well, but they found the sun outside the forest’s barriers to be intolerable. Most of them returned to live in Mondue, while the handful who remained confined themselves to moving about at night.

When I was elected to the village council, I gifted each of the other members with one of my magic beans. Which, it turned out, wasn’t my wisest decision. Gladys, a vampire, used hers to perform forbidden magic so that she could bring her deceased husband back from the grave. The resulting zombie epidemic was a nightmare to clean up. I get a headache just thinking of it. My point being, be careful. Trust the enclosed beans with no one but yourself and keep them on your person at all times.

I paused, taking a moment to peek inside the envelope again. This time I spied two tiny beans wedged into the corner. I shook them into my palm and held them up to the light, making their pink and green iridescent skin sparkle. Folding my hand over them, I turned back to the letter.

Use one bean to pass through the clouds and enter the Sky Castle. Once you’ve located the poor soul in need of help, you can use the second bean to pass through the barrier again and return home with them. And whatever you do, take care. No one knows what became of the giants after the storm broke out. Proceed with caution and remain alert at all times.

As my nieta and alpha of your own pack, I trust you will make me proud and complete this momentous task I’ve thrust upon you.

With all my love,

Abuela

P.S. Take Tenebris with you. That emo music he listens to is driving me crazy, and he's constantly hogging the TV. Not to mention the inordinate amount of time he spends making kissy faces in the mirror. The boy needs a little adventure in his life.

I set the letter on the table but continued to stare at the scribbled words. Was it true? Could one of these tiny beans actually cut through the storm clouds and allow me to climb the beanstalk? The same beanstalk I’d spent my entire childhood wishing to scale? Adrenaline coursed through my veins in a rush of building excitement—excitement that was only tempered by the knowledge of the stalk’s location.

Fucking Mondue.

“Well?” Tenebris prodded after a protracted moment of silence. “What did it say?”

“It says you're a real pain in the ass to live with,” I hedged, rolling the beans around in my palm. Did I really want to do this? Sure, scaling the beanstalk and seeing the Sky Castle would be epic, but it’s not like we could just show up and do it. The council would need to be addressed, permission to climb obtained. I’d have to face people I’d rather not face. Then again, if I didn’t, Abuela would be pissed.

And there was that whole being a better person thing I’d been attempting. Rescuing strangers in need of help was undoubtedly considered the right thing to do.

“It does not,” Tenebris scoffed.

“See for yourself.” I nodded toward the letter. “By the way, how are you with heights?”

Tenebris gave me a suspicious look as he picked up the letter. “Not great. Why do you ask?”

I stretched my arms overhead. “Seems we've got a beanstalk to climb.”

Tenebris immediately set down his tea and stood. “I'll get out of your hair then and leave you to it.”

“Yeah, sorry.” I grimaced. “You're coming with.”

“What? No way.”

“Abuela's orders. Read the letter.”

“And where exactly is this beanstalk we're supposed to climb?” he whined, dropping his gaze to the missive.

I glanced out the window, stomach tensing as I thought of the meadow Abuela had referred to. The same meadow that hosted the full moon festival every year. Where I'd seen Jack for the first time after moving to the hilltop with Abuela and realized he was no longer an annoying teenage boy but a young man with a smile that could charm the warts off the Elder Witch herself.