The Sisters Grimm: Book Eight: The Inside Story (20 page)

Puck laughed at the little traitor. “You can suffer, ugly. Besides, I’m not sure I can even get you out of your bindings. The marshmallow told me I was using too much tape, but it was so funny I couldn’t stop. We’re probably going to have to leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” the boy seethed.

“You don’t know him at all,” Sabrina said to Pinocchio.

“So,” Puck said, turning to Sabrina. “You dropped like a rock back in Pinocchio’s story. I thought you had died.”

“You wish.”

Puck shook his head. “No way! You can’t die. I’ve already sent out ‘save the date’ cards for the wedding, and I’ve registered for gifts. If you croak, I’ll never get that mayonnaise cannon.”

“What store sells a mayonnaise cannon?” Sabrina said, and then shook her head. She didn’t really want to know.

“You’re not lost,” he said suddenly.

“Huh?”

“I know you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing. All your decisions seem to be wrong. You feel like you’re lost, but you’re not.”

“My decisions seem to be wrong because they
are
wrong,” Sabrina said. “I gambled with my baby brother’s life. I trusted the White Rabbit and his stupid army. I turned the Editor against us. I lost the magic yarn. I got us hopelessly lost. Worst of all, I wasted all our time and energy on this idiot—”

“You don’t have to be rude,” Pinocchio said.

“You’re right. You make lousy decisions,” Puck said. “But you’re supposed to. You’re the hero.”

“Huh?”

“Listen, I’ve been told tons of stories and there’s one thing that they all have in common—the hero has a terrible time. It’s what that Lampwick kid said when we were in Pinocchio’s story. The hero has to go through all kind of obstacles so that he or she can overcome them. Like me: I have to overcome your smell!”

“My life is not a fairy tale,” Sabrina said.

“But you’ll have a happy ever after when we get married,” Puck said.

“Don’t tease me. A person can only take so much bad news.”

Puck jumped to his feet. “I’m not happy about a lot of things either, you know. Look at me—I’m one of the good guys now. Worse, I’m thinking about your feelings and not about what kind of gunk I can pour over your head,” he complained. “Do you realize how low I’ve sunk? I’m the Trickster King. I’m the shaman of stupidity, the Dalai Lama of dumb jokes, the holy man of horrible pranks.” He sighed forlornly. “Now all of a sudden I’m Mr. Sensitive.”

“Sabrina!” Daphne cried as she raced into the clearing.

Sabrina and Puck rushed to her. “What? Were you attacked?”

“What? No, of course not,” Daphne said. “I think I know how to get one of those doors to open for us. We have to put together a new ending. The horseman’s up on the hill looking for his head. I heard him fumbling around up there.”

“You aren’t suggesting we confront that devil,” Pinocchio said.

“Yes, you have to if we want out of here.”

“Me?” Pinocchio looked at the children. “What does this have to do with me?”

8

fter unwrapping Pinocchio from his prison of duct tape, the children walked back to the shadow-filled road. The air had turned crisp and chilly and Sabrina could see a puff of water vapor whenever she breathed out.

“What do you want me to do?” Pinocchio said. His tone made it clear that he felt very put out by the request.

“Stand here in the road and taunt the Horseman,” Sabrina said.

“And how do I do that?”

“Do what comes naturally,” Daphne said. “Be very annoying.”

“How dare you!”

“Just stand there and call him names,” Sabrina said, ignoring his indignation.

“I hardly think a few insults are going to bother an undead soldier from the depths of the underworld,” Pinocchio whined.

“You’re right,” Puck said. From underneath his hoodie he removed an object wrapped in old rags and handed it to the boy. It was shaped like a small watermelon and smelled foul. “Wave this around.”

“What’s this?”

“The Horseman’s head.”

Pinocchio let out a girlish scream and dropped the head.

Puck scooped it off the ground. “Hey! This is valuable.”

“You had his head the whole time?” Sabrina asked.

Puck nodded.

“Why?” Daphne said, her eyes as big as saucers.

“It’s a souvenir,” Puck said. “I was thinking I’d put it on the mantel above the fireplace.”

“It’s someone’s head!” Sabrina cried.

“It’s a conversation piece,” Puck corrected her, and then shoved it back into Pinocchio’s hands. “And I will want it back!”

Pinocchio held the object as far from his body as he could.

“Just shout that you have it,” Daphne said to the boy. “According to the story, this guy is obsessed with it. He’ll be along pretty fast.”

“Great,” Pinocchio said through a thick layer of sarcasm.

The children scuttled off to hide in the brush and wait. Sabrina watched Pinocchio kicking at pebbles and looking around aimlessly. After several moments, she lost her patience with the boy.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“My job!” he shouted. “I’m the bait!”

“Make some noise. Be obnoxious. Tease him!”

“At least wave the head around,” Puck added.

Pinocchio rolled his eyes and lifted the head over his own. “Hey! Horseman! I got your head. Nah-nah-na-na-nah!” He turned to the children. “Happy?”

“You are worthless,” Sabrina said, marching out into the road. She snatched the head from the boy. “Like this! Hey Horseman! You want your head? Too bad! It’s mine now. I might use it like a soccer ball or sell it on the Internet. But you can have it back if you want it. All you have to do is take it from me!”

Pinocchio growled. “Sorry if I don’t have a lot of experience taunting people with their own body parts.”

“You don’t have a lot of experience doing anything for anyone else,” Sabrina said. “For someone who claims to be an adult trapped in a little boy’s body, you act like a baby.”

“You insolent brat!” Pinocchio said. “If I was big enough, I’d put you over my knee.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Sabrina said.

“Hey! Can’t you hear that?” Daphne said.

“Hear what?!” Pinocchio and Sabrina shouted.

“The horse hooves! He’s coming.”

Sabrina stood for a moment. She could hear the beating of a horse on the road.

“You’re supposed to hold this!” she cried, forcing the head back into his hands.

“It’s too great an honor,” Pinocchio said, slamming it back into her hands. “I insist.”

Just then, the dark, terrifying figure appeared on the road. His silver sword flashed in the moonlight and fire flickered in his horse’s eyes.

“Where’s the door?”

“It should appear any second,” Daphne replied.

“You better be right,” Sabrina said.

Sabrina watched as Pinocchio sprinted away. She tucked the head under her arm and started to chase after him, but only after a few steps she heard Puck’s voice shout “No!”

Sabrina turned to find the boy fairy had leaped onto the road with his sword in hand. His sudden appearance caused the horse to reel back. The Headless Horseman lost his balance and flew off, slamming to the ground with a thud.

“Should I give him the head?” Sabrina asked.

“Yes!”

Sabrina tossed the head to the demon, then watched as a door in the road materialized next to her. When Daphne opened it, a fierce gale exploded from the doorway—but a tornado couldn’t have held them back. Sabrina, Daphne, Puck, and Pinocchio darted through, the smell of jasmine tea and spices enveloping their senses.

When Sabrina’s vision cleared, she stood in an arid desert and blinked into the brutal sun. Even taking a breath seemed to burn her throat.

“At least it’s not a forest,” Pinocchio said. “All these woodland stories are doing a number on my allergies.”

“Where do you think we are?” Daphne asked.

“Not a clue,” Sabrina said as she rolled up her sleeves.

“I think we’ll find out in there,” Puck said, pointing behind the group. Sabrina turned and saw a slab of marble rising up from the sand. The slab had a golden ring on it and was leaning open, revealing a flight of stairs descending underground. She sighed.

“All right, then,” Sabrina said. “Let’s get this over with.”

The children climbed down the stairs and found themselves inside a huge subterranean garden. Sabrina had never seen anything like it. Despite the lack of sunlight, fruit trees and lush flowers grew. A stream fed the green lawn and little birds fluttered from one branch to the next. Four glass vases overflowing with golden coins sat on top of four earthen mounds.

At the end of the garden they found a flight of stairs that led even farther down into the earth. Since there was little light, the group clung to one another until they came to a set of double doors that seemed to be made from pure gold. Puck pushed them open to reveal a room overflowing with jewels and precious metals. Several torches illuminated the room and the light bounced off every sparking treasure, nearly blinding Sabrina. In the center of all the treasure she could make out two figures. The first was a short, balding man. The second was a toddler.

“So you found me,” Mirror said. The youngest member of the Grimm family sat at his feet, burbling happily.

Daphne moved to rush to the boy, but Mirror’s eyes ignited with magic and Sabrina pulled her back.

“And you’ve come to stop me?”

“Mirror, we could have found another way to get you what you want,” Sabrina said.

Mirror shook his head. “I’ve waited long enough.” He leaned down and snatched a golden lamp from a pile of treasure. It was nothing special compared to the treasures that surrounded it, but Mirror eyed it greedily. It was then that Sabrina realized they must be in the story of Aladdin—one of the many magical tales from
A Thousand and One Nights
. She knew what Mirror’s lamp could do.

“Don’t do this,” she begged.

Mirror eyed the lamp. “It’s my only chance. The place I need to go can’t be reached any other way but by magic, and this little lamp, if it is anything like the real McCoy, has even more power than the Blue Fairy, Baba Yaga, and the Wicked Queen combined. This thing can change the future, the past—it could make me a god. Sadly, all that won’t stick once I’m outside of this book and the Editor revises it away. What I need is in my story, which the Editor can’t touch once I’ve changed it.”