A Grimm Warning (The Land of Stories, #3)(28)

“I can’t believe this is it,” Conner said. “You’d think the most important storytellers who ever lived would have flashier graves. I expected a big crypt with statues of fairy-tale characters and stained-glass windows of castles and gingerbread houses. But this is pretty dull.”

“I kind of like it,” Bree said, and snapped a picture of the graves with her phone. “Very simple and refined, that’s how I’d like to be remembered, I think. Besides, I have a suspicion they don’t care very much anymore.”

“I guess,” Conner said. He was disheartened by the whole thing. He felt the Brothers Grimm deserved much more.

Bree seemed to find his disappointment charming. “I don’t think anyone gets remembered exactly the way they want to,” she said. “You just have to do the best you can with what you have and hope you’re recognized for it. But I doubt there’s anyone else in this cemetery that can draw a crowd this size.”

A horn sounded through the graveyard. Everyone turned to the chapel and saw a man dressed in ceremonial lederhosen blowing a trumpet on the porch. Noon had arrived and the readings were about to begin. The crowds of people scattered across the cemetery grounds migrated toward the front steps of the chapel, eager to hear the untold stories of the Brothers Grimm. Conner and Bree walked over together and regrouped with Mrs. Peters and the Book Huggers.

“I’m so excited,” Cindy said, and clapped her hands.

“I hope one of the stories is about an awful curse like in ‘Sleeping Beauty,’ ” Mindy said. “I’ve always loved a good curse!”

“I hope one of them is a sequel or a prequel to one of their other stories,” Lindy said. “It would be amazing to hear what happened to our favorite characters before or after the stories that we know.”

Conner chuckled—he knew, but he wasn’t going to share it with them.

“Is something funny, Conner?” Mindy asked.

“Oh no, I’m just excited, too,” he said with a shrug.

A woman emerged from the chapel and the crowd greeted her with warm applause. Conner figured she must be a local celebrity. She was tall and plump with a round, rosy face. She wore a bright orange dress with large buttons that matched her short, curly orange hair perfectly. She stood at a microphone that had been placed next to the time capsule, and waved to the crowd.

She greeted the onlookers first in German, then in French, and then in English.

“Good afternoon, everyone, and welcome to St. Matth?us-Kirchhof cemetery,” she cheerfully greeted in a German accent. “My name is Sofia Amsel and the University of Berlin has given me the pleasure of reading to you three brand-new fairy tales written by the Brothers Grimm. They have never been heard before today.”

The English speakers in the crowd cheered. Sofia removed the wooden chest from the glass case and held it delicately in her hands.

“This chest was recently found in the archives of the University of Berlin from 1811. It was the will of the Brothers Grimm themselves that the stories inside be opened and read to the public two hundred years later,” Sofia announced. “I will read each story in German first, then in French, and finally in English. The stories will be translated into other languages and made available on the University of Berlin’s website. Now, it is my honor to read the first story.”

The crowd happily cheered. She gently opened the wooden chest and removed an aged scroll of parchment wrapped in a white ribbon. The man in the lederhosen carefully took the chest from Sofia and held it while she read the first story into the microphone.

As she had promised, Sofia read it first in German and second in French. Conner and the girls heard the German-and French-speaking people in the crowd squeal and laugh in delight as the story was read, clapping at the parts that tickled them the most.

Conner’s anxiety bubbled up more and more the closer she got to telling the story in English. He couldn’t wait to hear who or what the Brothers Grimm had written about, and wondered if it would be anyone he or his sister knew.

Sofia cleared her throat before beginning to read in English. “The first story is called ‘The Curvy Tree,’ ” she announced.

Conner’s face instantly went red. He gasped so quickly and so hard that he started coughing. He could feel Bree’s suspicious glare on the side of his face.

“How funny,” Conner said to her when he caught his breath. “That’s the name of my story. What a coincidence.”

“Yeah, a coincidence…,” Bree said. Her suspicion was short-lived, though, and soon faded away. After all, what else could it have been but a coincidence? She looked back at Sofia as she began reading from the scroll.


Once upon a time, in a faraway forest, there lived a tree that was different from all the other trees in the woods. While the other trees grew perfectly straight toward the sky, this particular tree grew in loops, twists, and turns. It was known as the Curvy Tree by all who saw it, and many humans and animals came from far and wide to see its splendor.

When the humans and animals were away, in a language that only could be heard by the plants of the forest, the other trees would taunt the poor Curvy Tree. ‘We hate your bark and your branches and your leaves that twist and turn! One day they will chop you into firewood and you will forever burn!’ It made the Curvy Tree very sad, and if you spoke Plant you would hear it cry itself to sleep every night.