The Sisters Grimm: Book Eight: The Inside Story (15 page)

There was another eardrum-rumbling explosion, and part of the castle’s walls crumbled into dust.

“This sorcerer . . . Can you take us to him?” Sabrina asked.

“Take you back into the castle?” the third knight cried. “Are you daft?”

“If you won’t take us, we’ll go on our own.” Daphne took slow, deliberate steps forward in her armor. It wasn’t long before she tipped over face-first. “Stupid suit of armor! Whose idea was it to wear two hundred pounds of metal into battle? A duckling could kill me right now.”

Sabrina and Puck helped the little girl to her feet. Once she was up, the other knights dismounted and helped them remove some of the heavier pieces of armor. When the first knight, who introduced himself as Sir Port, removed Sabrina’s helmet, he nearly took her nose with it. Soon, the girls were moving about a bit more freely.

“You’re fools,” Sir Port said. “But we’ll take you back to the castle.”

The dodo cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should wait here until all the fighting is over.”

“Remember the deal, bird,” Sabrina chirped. “We won’t come back for you.”

“I must object,” the rabbit interjected as he polished his monocle. “The two of you have taken on roles in this story. We have a freedom you do not. Any number of horrible things could happen to you. Perhaps it would be wise to entrust your yarn to us. Just in case.”

Sabrina eyed the group suspiciously. “The yarn is ours, buster.”

The White Rabbit threw up his paws. “Of course! Of course! Just a suggestion.”

Despite their vocal complaints, Sabrina didn’t turn back to see if the characters were following. She, Puck, Daphne, and the three knights on horseback climbed up the steep hill and crossed a wide wooden drawbridge over a black and foul-smelling moat.

Through a great arch they could see a smoke-filled castle courtyard. As they entered, Sabrina spotted a crowd of panicked knights, ladies-in-waiting, and court jesters rushing about willynilly trying to avoid a terrific battle. The fighting seemed to be coming from the center of the courtyard. Sabrina could feel the familiar tingle of enchantments all around her, though the sonic booms and flashes of white-hot light were all the evidence she needed to determine that someone was wielding some very powerful magic.

They pushed their way through the crowd and eventually found a space with a view of the conflict. The power of the attacks was so intense that Sabrina had to shield her eyes, but inside the fire and light she could make out two figures. They circled each other with hands afire and eyes burning with raw power. The air crackled with energy every time one of them made the slightest movement.

“What’s happening?” Daphne asked a tall, handsome man with flowing black hair.

When Sabrina looked up into his face, she immediately recognized him as Sir Lancelot, one of Ferryport Landing’s dashing volunteer firefighters. Granny Relda had recently purchased a “Firefighters of Ferryport Landing” calendar, and when she took a peek at it when it arrived in the mail, her face turned as red as a stoplight. Sabrina never saw the calendar again and the old woman wouldn’t say where it had gone.

With his familiar face, she could place the story: They had stepped into the tale of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.

“This cursed interloper hath stepped through an enchanted doorway in the midst of our castle,” Lancelot said. “A battalion of noble knights and I naturally came to the defense of Camelot, but we were soon overwhelmed by the villain’s magics. The king’s adviser, Merlin, was called, and due to his experience with the black arts, has unleashed his ungodly powers on the Editor’s lackey.”

“What did he say?” Daphne asked.

Sabrina shrugged. She had trouble understanding his real-life counterpart back home.

“Pinocchio sure has learned the ins and outs of that magic wand,” Daphne said as they watched the fighting. “That’s powerful magic for a little boy.”

“Little boy?” Lancelot said. “The boy is not fighting Merlin. It’s his father who is creating such chaos.”

Sabrina strained to look into the battle once more. She could make out Merlin, old and feeble, fighting off a short, thin, balding man in a black suit.

“It’s Mirror!” she cried.

“If he’s fighting, where is Rodney?” Daphne said.

“Rodney?”

“Fine!” Daphne said. “Where’s what’s-his-name?”

“If it’s the child you speak of, he is there, with the queen,” Lancelot said as he pointed across the courtyard to a slender, pale woman with blond hair that hung to her hips. She wore an eggshell-white silk dress and her hair was embellished with tiny, delicate flowers. In her arms was a small boy with red hair and bright green eyes.

The children shoved and forced their way through the crowd as they hurried to their brother. Most people were too distracted by the fighting to care they had been pushed, but they were also too distracted to move out of the way. Still, Sabrina pressed on and soon she, Daphne, and Puck were standing before the lovely woman and the baby boy.

“Guinevere!” Sabrina said. She had met the woman a few times when her grandmother went on errands and always found her to be sweet and polite. She was a stark contrast from her hot-headed husband, Arthur.

“Do I know you, child?”

“The real you does,” Sabrina said.

“We’re from outside the story,” Daphne said.

Guinevere’s eyes grew wide. “Then word of our efforts has reached far and wide. Have you come to help liberate us?”

“Not exactly. The little boy you’re holding is real too. He’s our brother,” Sabrina said.

Guinevere pointed to Mirror. Lightning bolts were coming out of his hands and eyes. “He told me to guard him with my life,” the queen said. “I fear he means it.”

“He belongs with us,” Sabrina said as she took the boy into her arms. She looked into his face. She had never been so close to him, and only days ago she had no idea he existed, but now, looking into his eyes, smelling his skin, feeling his little fingers wrap around her neck, she could feel he was family. This strange boy was as familiar to her as her own sister. He was as much a part of her as her own hands.

“We have to get out of here while Mirror is distracted,” Daphne said.

“Plus, that kid needs a diaper change,” Puck added.

“I think that’s you,” Sabrina said. “But you’re right.”

“What about Pinocchio?” Daphne said. “We made a deal with the Editor.”

Sabrina scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of the boy. “I know a deal’s a deal, Daphne, but we’re in way over our heads. Let’s take our brother and get out of here while we still can. Tell the ball of yarn to take us home.”

For once, Daphne did not argue. She whispered her instructions into the ball, but it sat in her hand.

“We’re not at the end of this story,” she said. “The last thing that happens is a wounded Arthur is put in a boat with fairies and they drift down a river. With things all messed up like this, I can’t even begin to imagine where we might be in this story right now.”

“Editor! Open the door!” Puck shouted over the noise.

“What are you doing?” Sabrina said.

“The Editor said to call for him when we were ready,” Puck said. “Editor! Where are you?”

“But we don’t have Pinocchio yet,” Sabrina said.

“A tiny detail when you consider we’re about to be killed,” the boy fairy shouted.

Suddenly, the ball of yarn rolled out of Daphne’s hand and darted into the crowd. The children gave chase and struggled against the relentless tide of onlookers. Each step was a challenge as they were jostled and shoved mercilessly. But Sabrina couldn’t have cared less. Her heart was full with joy. The child in her arms completed her family, and the hole inside her could start to mend itself. Daphne ran alongside with happy tears in her eyes. Even Puck, who despised the joy of others, had a tight grin on his face. For once, the Scarlet Hand had not succeeded.

And then there was an explosion that knocked them off their feet. Sabrina checked to see if her brother was hurt, but besides a few startled cries he was in perfect health. Puck helped her to her feet but there was an eerie quiet in the courtyard and then a troubled murmuring.

“He killed Merlin,” a voice said near them. “I can’t believe it. He actually killed him.”

Then a familiar voice bellowed a demand that seemed to hover over the crowd like an angry cloud. “WHERE IS THE BOY?”

“Daddy!” the child cried.

The children looked at the toddler in shock.

“Daddy?” Daphne repeated. “Mirror isn’t your daddy.”

Her argument was cut short as an invisible wave raced through the crowd and forced a path from the center of the battle to the children. As the path cleared, Sabrina could see Merlin lying on his back, his empty eyes focused on the blue skies above. Standing over him was Mirror. Sabrina had seen his face full of rage before, but that was only when he appeared in the magic mirror. She had never seen the kind, soft face that she saw when she stepped inside the Hall of Wonders the slightest bit angry. She quaked with fear.

Daphne seemed just as terrified. Puck, however, stepped forward. For once his bravado and boasting were gone. She had seen him fight giants, dragons, and Jabberwockies with a gleam in his eye and a grin on his face; this time he was deadly serious.

“It’s over, Mirror,” he said.

With a flip of his hand, Mirror tossed aside hundreds of people in the courtyard. Then he strolled forward with a smile on his face.

“So the boy fairy comes to the rescue once more,” Mirror said. “When we first met, I would never have thought you to be the hero. But look at you—your hand is on your sword. Your face is hard. You’re like a smelly James Dean—a rebel without a clue.”

Puck said nothing.

“You’ve thrown your lot in with the Grimms. Not a bad decision. They’re good people,” Mirror continued. “If a little simple. Still, they would have treated you right.”

“ ‘Would have’?” Puck said.

“Oh, yes, but you wouldn’t give me the child, and I was forced to kill you,” Mirror said.

Puck smiled. “You’re welcome to try, you sorry excuse for a reflection, but I think you’ll find the Trickster King more than formidable. If I were you, I’d walk out of this story before I break you into a million tiny pieces of glass.”

“As stubborn as you are pungent,” Mirror said as he raised his hands. Sparks flickered out of his fingers, and his eyes glowed with power. “I’m afraid you are going to make one very smelly corpse.”

6

irror’s hand burst with light. Long tendrils of energy exploded out of his fingertips and crashed into Puck’s chest. The boy’s sword fell from his hand and he was shot backward several yards.

“Stop it!” Sabrina demanded.

Puck slowly stood up and a weak smile came to his face. “Your joy buzzer doesn’t hurt that much.”

Mirror shook his head and shocked Puck again, with similar results. “The three of you are becoming tiresome. I know you are upset with what I did, but as the saying goes, ‘desperate times call for desperate measures.’ I’ve been trapped in the Hall of Wonders for hundreds of years as the slave of others, including your family. I had nearly given up hope of ever having my freedom, but I saw an opportunity and I took it. If you had been locked in a prison with no hope of ever being free, you would do drastic things in order to escape too.”

Sabrina rushed to Puck’s side. “I wouldn’t kidnap someone’s parents and force their children into an orphanage. I wouldn’t steal an innocent child from his family and involve him in a twisted plan to take his body.”

She tried to keep Puck lying down, but he stood again. “Is that all you got?”

Mirror ignored him. “Starfish, my deception gave me no joy. If I could have taken another child, I would have, but your family is the only human family I’ve had contact with in decades. When I heard that your mother was pregnant, I knew I had to act.”

“So we were easy prey?” Daphne asked.

Mirror frowned and lowered his hands. The power in them faded and his anger seemed to go with it. “You can’t understand, and I don’t have time to argue about it. The Editor is probably preparing to revise this story as we speak.”