The Grimm Conclusion by Adam Gidwitz Read Free Book Online Page B

that.”
    Again, Joringel shrugged. “I don’t think I know how anymore.”
    The first raven gave the second raven a knowing glance. So the second raven said, “Well, let him try it.”
    â€œCan I build a fire?” Joringel inquired. “It is a bit cold.”
    â€œSure,” the first raven replied.
    â€œDo
we
have to stay here?” asked the third raven.
    â€œThe whole point,” said the first raven, “is that we leave the boy alone.”
    â€œOh! Good!”
    The first raven said, “We’ll be back in the morning.” And with that, he flew away. The second raven followed him. The third raven, sitting on a stump in the middle of the eerie clearing, stared wonderingly at the little boy. Suddenly, he shook himself and looked around. His brothers were gone.
    â€œWAIT!” he cried. “WAIT FOR ME!” And he went flying out of the clearing after them.
    ----
    The clearing in which Joringel stood was dominated by one enormous tree. Its bark was black and rotted, and worms seethed over its soft surface.
    The air was cold, and getting colder, so Joringel set out among the trees to collect wood and kindling. And while any other child—no, any person at all—would have jumped as branches popped under his feet, as wolves cried in the distance, and as bats screeched overhead, little Joringel was not afraid. He did not, it appeared, remember how to be.
    He brought the wood and kindling back to the clearing and began to make a flame with a little flint box he kept in his pocket. When the fire had sparked into life, its yellow light danced against the trunk of the great tree under which he stood.
    At which point, Joringel noticed three shadows. Shadows that seemed to sway back and forth upon the branches of the trees. His eyes followed the shadows up, and up, and up.
    And there he saw, hanging from a branch, three men. Ropes were tied around their broken necks, and their feet dangled lifelessly.
    â€œNo!”
whispered the third raven, who was hiding, with his brothers, in a tree not very far away.
    â€œShh!” hissed the first. “Just watch.”
    Joringel put his hands on his hips and stared at the three hanging men.
    â€œWhat are you doing up there?” he called.
    They didn’t answer. Being dead and all.
    The third raven looked inquiringly at the second. The second shrugged his black shoulders.
    Joringel sat down by the fire. But he kept glancing up at the three dead men. They swung slowly this way and that, their ropes creaking in the darkness.
    And then Joringel said, “I bet they’re cold. I should let them come sit by my fire.”
    â€œWHAT?” cried the third raven.
    â€œSHHH!” hissed the first.
    The little boy called up to the three hanging men. “Hey! Do you want to come down and sit by the fire.”
    â€œWhat is going on?” the third raven demanded.
    The first smiled. “‘Side effects can include sudden idiocy.’”
    â€œThey must not be able to hear me up there,” Joringel announced. So he got to his feet, walked to the base of the tree, and began to climb it.
    â€œNo . . .” murmured the third raven.
    Insects crawled over the little boy’s hands and his face. He tossed them off carelessly. Pieces of rotting wood crumbled in his grip, sending him sliding back down the trunk. He just climbed up again. His fingers dug into seething swarms of worms. The little boy didn’t mind.
    He clambered up to the branch with the dead men and said, “Hey! Do you want to come sit by the fire?” The men’s heads lay at unnatural angles on their shoulders, and their thick blue tongues stuck out of their mouths.
    â€œMaybe they’re too cold to answer me,” Joringel said. So he took a little knife out of his pocket and cut through the three ropes.
    Thunk!
    Thunk!
    Thunk!
    The three men dropped to the ground. Joringel shimmied back down the tree, ignoring