Only the sound of Fable's nibbling broke the silence, which was rather embarrassing. But she couldn't stop her nibbling. If she hadn't left Pickwick up in the kitchen, he would be mocking her indecency now. Was she turning into a gorging monster like her brother Axel? Come to think of it, Axel would have made a perfect Hansel, she thought. "I don't get it," Fable said. "Loki tried to kill me and all those children in Furry Tell, then tried to kill you, then chopped off Cerené's hands. All those atrocities he'd done, and then he asked you to save him? Save him from what?"
"From her, of course." Shew seemed slightly offended. "My mother." She lowered her head, looking ashamed of her own family. Fable sympathized. Sometimes she'd been ashamed of her mother, although she'd never seen her, being a lousy witch. "Loki was just a puppet to her. She played him through the strings of his Fleece." She seemed annoyed that she had to repeat herself to Fable. "I'm sure he would have done the best to save me if he'd been free of her power." Shew seemed so sure about her statement. Fable wondered about True Love for a moment. Did it really make people so sure of each other's love for one another?
"But if he was controlled by her, how could he possibly send you a message?" Fable said. Normally, she'd be rooting for True Love, like so many times when Loki was about to give up on Shew in the castle, and she pushed him to believe in his love. Today, she wasn't that sure about it.
"His subconscious sent me the message. He was able to do it through the World Between Dreams, one of the few realms in the Dreamworld uncontrolled by Carmilla."
"Then why didn't he escape to that realm?"
"He told me he couldn't stay long enough there. Carmilla would've noticed his absence, and tortured him through the Fleece in return. She was watching the Dreamory through a crystal ball, empowered by Loki's Fleece. That was the whole point of her sending him after me. I thought she wanted him to kill me. Instead, she had bigger plans. She wanted to know about my relationship with Cerené, so she could learn how to put the Andersen Mirror back together."
"I still don't get this Andersen Mirror thing, but anyways." Fable sighed and collected fallen breadcrumbs from the floor. "So you asked him to save you two days ago in the castle, and then the tables turned and he asked you the same, only a day later?" It wasn't a question, really. She was reminding herself of how the beauty suddenly became the beast, and the beast became the beauty all of a sudden.
"I am sorry, Loki." Shew gently rubbed his closed eyes. "I'm really sorry. I'd rather kill myself with a dagger right now."
Fable was speechless. If True Love made lovers kill themselves, then it certainly sucked. Still, she stepped forward and patted Shew, playing the part everyone expected her to. The part she usually expected from herself. Have I awoken without my heart today? 'Cause I surely can't sympathize much.
"I don't understand how I'm supposed to be the Chosen One," Shew continued, talking to Loki's corpse. "I couldn't save Cerené, and I couldn't help you when you needed me." She stopped then turned and faced Fable. "Oh my God. I even let down Cerené." She stood and clapped her hands on her cheeks. Fable thought Loki's death had turned Shew into some whiny damsel. She had liked her more in the Dreamory, killing and fighting for her rights. Or was this all just Cerené's doing from when she had breathed life into the pale Princess with her blowpipe? Maybe the effect didn't last beyond the Dreamworld. "This girl breathed life into me when I was left for dead on the table in my mother's chamber. And I let her down." Shew threw herself into Fable's arms, forcing her to drop the bowl of breadcrumbs. Fable wondered why everyone needed to hug her today. She hugged Shew back tightly, though. In fact, the more they hugged, the more Fable began sympathizing again. Was it the proximity of Shew's heart that made her feel that? Fable wondered if she'd need to go to an asylum soon.
"I love Cerené so much!" Shew sobbed violently, as if an invisible demon shook her. "And I loved Loki. I loved them, Fable! And I let them down."
Fable pushed Shew away, only to gently wipe the tears from her eyes and readjust her hair. It felt good to feel sympathy. It was good to feel like Fable again. She hoped she wouldn't lose that feeling again in a few moments. "Tell me, Shew," Fable said. "Tell me about how much you love Loki. Tell me about True Love. What does it feel like?" It was a sincere question from a girl who had never dated a boy, although she wanted Axel to think she did.