The Sisters Grimm: Book Eight: The Inside Story (11 page)

“Your hair wants cutting,” the Hatter said abruptly. Just like the real-life version, this Hatter had a huge head, and white hair as dry as hay and a tremendous hat. His face was filled with the now familiar nervousness of the characters they had encountered in the Book. He also shared the Book characters’ bizarre, otherworldly appearance. The Mad Hatter looked almost like he was a walking illustration and not a real person. He seemed to have a thick outline around his entire body.

“Say something,” Daphne whispered.

“I don’t know what to say,” Sabrina complained.

The Mad Hatter and the March Hare shared a worried look until the March Hare leaned over and whispered, “You should learn not to make personal remarks. It’s very rude.”

Sabrina sighed and repeated the phrase to the Mad Hatter.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” he said.

“Nuh-uh-uh,” Sabrina said as she tried to get to her feet once more. “I’m not going to do the riddle part. I hate the riddle part. This goes on and on. Let’s skip it.”

“Skip it?” the Mad Hatter said as he forced her back into her chair. In the process he dropped his teacup. It shattered on the table.

“You fool!” the March Hare said, pointing his paw at the Mad Hatter. “That didn’t happen. The Editor will be on us now.”

“It was an accident. She made me do it!”

“The Editor won’t care,” the March Hare said. “What were you thinking? Going off the story! Well, I won’t suffer for your lack of respect for the Editor. When his beasties arrive, I will tell them what you all have done. Why should I be revised? I’m innocent!”

“Throw me under the bus, will you!” the Mad Hatter shouted. He jumped to his feet and grabbed the March Hare by the neck. He shook him so angrily that the March Hare’s bow tie unraveled. Enraged, the March Hare swung wildly and hit the Mad Hatter in the eye. The force from the blow caused him to fall backward over his chair. There he lay very still.

“Get up, you fool,” the March Hare said. “When the Editor comes, it will do you well to show a little respect.”

But the Mad Hatter didn’t stir.

“Is he OK?” Daphne asked.

Sabrina circled the table and kneeled beside the Mad Hatter’s body. She shook him gently. He was still breathing, but he was unconscious.

“You cold-cocked him,” Puck said as he licked icing off his fingers. “Nice punch, too. For a rabbit.”

The March Hare screamed in terror. “This is all your fault.”

“Our fault? You’re the one serving knuckle sandwiches,” Daphne said.

“The Mad Hatter does not get beat up in the story!” the March Hare cried. He was panicking and pacing back and forth.

“Get control over yourself. We need to figure out what to do,” Daphne said.

“Figure out what to do? This isn’t spilled milk, child.”

The March Hare fled into the woods, knocking many of the teacups off the table as he went.

Watching him flee, Sabrina had an unsettling feeling that she, Daphne, and Puck should do the same. She grabbed them by the hands and they raced off into the woods, following the string that the ball of yarn had left.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the Mad Hatter to wake up?” Daphne said.

“You remember what the Editor said,” Sabrina responded. “His hungry little monsters show up and they eat. If we’re in their way—we’re lunch. We should go.”

The little ball was fast and relentless. It was difficult for the kids to keep up. Everywhere they went they encountered bizarre people and talking animals, but the trio ran past them without a word. Sabrina would rather be accused of being rude than accidentally change
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
any more than they already had. Eventually they found a small stream, and since they were too tired to go on, they stopped to take a break. The ball of yarn sat not far away, agitated and eager, like a soft, round bloodhound.

Puck lay down in the grass with his hands behind his head. “Ah, isn’t this the life?”

Sabrina could hardly believe her ears. “What? You’re enjoying this?”

“Aren’t you? Jumping from one story to the next, playing around with history, changing people’s destinies—this is first-rate mischief-making,” Puck said.

“I will never understand you,” she mumbled.

Puck laughed. “Really, don’t you feel your heart beating! Don’t you feel so alive? We’ve nearly died a dozen times already. It’s exhilarating!”

Daphne laughed. “I’d lost count. Who can remember them all?”

“The last year of my life has been awesome. I hate to admit it, but you two have helped my street credibility in the prankster community. We’ve busted a guy out of jail, broken into someone’s house, killed dragons and giants, destroyed a bank and an elementary school, changed the future, and started a civil war. You should be proud of yourselves.”

Puck and Daphne laughed until they could hardly breathe. Sabrina, however, was horrified. She had been involved in all of those disasters and her choices had made them possible—sometimes even caused them directly. She jumped up and ran into the woods before anyone could see her tears.

She threw herself under a giant toadstool and wept until her body shook. She had never cried so hard or felt so lost.

“Let’s get something clear,” Puck said. His presence startled Sabrina, and she jumped to her feet. She felt awkward and exposed as she wiped the tears from her face, but Puck ignored her embarrassment. “I’m not going to hug you or let you cry on me. Don’t get any funny ideas about that stuff. But, if you want to open your gob and spill your guts about your boo-boo face, feel free.”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“You are smelly, annoying, infuriating, and I’m sure your parents dropped you on your head when you were a baby, but you are not fine. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I would suspect a Levorian Ear Toad had burrowed into your brain. You haven’t been yourself since we stepped into this book.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sabrina said as she stared off into the forest.

“Oh, boy!” Puck said. “Listen, I gave you a chance, but if you don’t—”

“I’m scared,” she said, hardly believing she had said it.

Puck grinned.

“Go ahead and laugh, dirtball, and I’ll break your face,” Sabrina said. She took a deep breath. She had a million fears: She was afraid of making bad decisions, getting her sister hurt, not finding her brother, failing. There was only one way to explain all of them. “I’m afraid of myself.”

Puck arched an eyebrow. “Let’s pretend I don’t completely understand.”

“I keep screwing up,” Sabrina said. “In the last few weeks I’ve helped our greatest enemy destroy our house and kidnap our brother, and I raced into this crazy book without a second thought. Now we’re working for this Editor, who might be evil, and his little pink erasers who might decide to eat us.”

Puck rolled his eyes. “I suppose you want a pity party.”

Sabrina’s face flushed with anger. “So I open up to you and you make fun of me for it? You know what you are, Puck? You’re a jerk.”

Puck laughed as if Sabrina had just told him the funniest joke ever, which sent her into an even nastier rage. After all the time she had spent with this filthy boy she suddenly realized that he was exactly the same selfish, arrogant, and weird punk who had tried to push her into a pool not so long ago. How she could have ever considered him a friend, or even have feelings for him, was just more proof that she couldn’t trust her own choices. She realized at that moment that if there was a decision she could be sure about, it was that she would never give this boy her heart. She didn’t care what was supposed to happen in the future. “I’m going to find Daphne,” she snapped, and stormed off, only to have Puck snatch her by the hand and roughly pull her to the ground.

“Are you crazy?” Sabrina said.

“Be quiet,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around her mouth. “There are men coming. Lots of them.”

Sabrina peered through the bushes and saw dozens of figures rushing through the forest. Each one had the body of a different playing card but with a head and arms and legs like a human.

Sabrina gasped. “Card soldiers!” She had encountered a few in the real world. Most worked for Mayor Heart and Sheriff Nottingham. They cared little for the rule of law unless it allowed them to cut someone in half with their swords.

“Where’s Daphne?” Sabrina whispered.

Puck shrugged. “I left her by the brook.”

Sabrina wanted to run to her sister, but all she could do was wait patiently for the strange army to pass.

Once they were gone, she and Puck crept out from behind their hiding spots and rushed to the stream. Daphne was nowhere to be found.

“Do you think they took her?” Sabrina asked. She felt as if she might faint.

“Hey,” a voice said from above. Sabrina and Puck looked up and saw Daphne clinging to a tree limb high above their heads. “The card soldiers are everywhere. I can see hundreds of them. We should keep moving.”

The children left as quickly as they could, but it soon became clear that something was following them. Something was jumping from one branch to the next, causing a shower of strange nuts to fall down on their heads. Puck, who had better eyesight than a non-Everafter, could not spot their stalker no matter how much he studied the trees. Even when he took to the air to search the branches, he couldn’t see anything.

“Just keep moving,” Sabrina said, doing her best to reassure Daphne. “It’s probably a curious animal. When it gets bored, it will go find something else to do.”

Unfortunately, all her attention on the strange stalker had distracted Sabrina from where they were going and who they were running from. They made a turn in the path only to stumble upon a crowd of card soldiers as menacing and vicious as any she had seen. Their leader, a very angry Nine of Diamonds, picked up the ball of yarn and then stepped forward with a sword aimed at Sabrina’s heart.

“The Queen would like to make your acquaintance,” the Nine of Diamonds said. Sabrina thought his invitation sounded a lot like a threat.

“Tell the Queen we’re a little busy,” Sabrina said.

The Nine of Diamonds scowled and stepped closer. “The Mad Hatter claims you told him you were from the real world. Her Majesty demands your presence.”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daphne lied.

“So, you aren’t responsible for changing the story?”

The children looked at one another sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“You are creating mayhem, and it is going to stop!” he shouted. The rest of his soldiers circled the trio and leveled their swords at their heads.

“I guess we can spare a few minutes for the Queen,” Puck said.

The children were marched through the forest until they came to a dirt road. There they saw several horse-drawn coaches racing along it—all of which were driven by frantic horsemen who looked as if their lives depended upon getting to their destinations as quickly as possible. “Out of the way!” They shouted at one another. “Royal business!”

The guards marched the girls into the heavy traffic, where they had to jump to avoid the speeding coaches and stay alive. The group pressed on until they came to a castle.

At the gate stood a guard with the head of a frog. He wore white leggings, a red coat with tails, and a white powdered wig like something out of an old romance novel, but his face was a muddy green and slick with slime. His big, bulbous eyes spun in their sockets yet he had a dignified, almost smug expression on his face.

“Are these the troublemakers?” the frogman croaked.

“Of course,” the Nine of Diamonds said. “Let us pass.”

The frog eyed them all carefully. “I don’t know. You could be an impostor.”

“Impostor? You know me! I was at your wedding,” the soldier cried.

“One can never be too careful,” the frog croaked.

“Well, I would think that the fact that I have a playing card for a body would be evidence enough of my identity.”

“This conversation is too freaky,” Daphne whispered to Sabrina.

The frog eyed the card soldier up and down and then let out a
harrumph
. “Keep a close eye on your prisoners,” he warned.

The Nine of Diamonds scowled and pushed past the amphibious guard. He demanded the children follow closely and complained that they were pokey, as he led them into a damp and chilly tunnel beneath the castle. They emerged on the other side of the castle into a beautiful garden filled with exotic flowers in bright, vibrant colors and aromas. Several stone fountains sprayed crystalline water into the sky, creating shimmering rainbows. Everything was landscaped and manicured. The grass looked as if it had been trimmed by hand. Some of the details, however, were pure nonsense. As they stood beside the garden gate, Sabrina noticed a handful of card soldiers busily painting a bush’s white rose bulbs bright red. When one of the soldiers splashed paint on another, they all broke into an argument that nearly turned into a fistfight.

“The Queen! The Queen!” someone shouted, and then a large procession of people entered the garden. There were trumpeters, court jesters, jugglers, mimes, and balladeers followed by ten card soldiers, followed by princes and courtiers decorated in diamonds, then ten children dressed in silk outfits decorated in hearts, then a group of very royal-looking men and women who appeared to be kings and queens, and finally a white rabbit in a little red smoking jacket who shooed everyone aside to allow for a soldier to enter carrying a velvet cushion with a crown on it.

“All eyes!” the rabbit chirped as he scanned the crowd with disdain. “The King and Queen of Hearts.”

The Queen of Hearts and a rather sheepish-looking man with long hair and a beard entered to shrill trumpeting. Sabrina knew the Queen quite well. As the recently elected mayor of Ferryport Landing, she had nearly destroyed the town and taken an active interest in making the Grimm family’s lives miserable. The King, however, Sabrina had never met. He looked just like the King of Hearts she had seen on packs of playing cards—complete with the strange beard that curled at the bottom. She had heard several conflicting stories about the King of Hearts. Some suggested he had decided to stay in Wonderland when Wilhelm Grimm offered to take everyone to America. Others claimed the Queen had murdered him in his sleep. Knowing the Queen of Hearts the way she did, Sabrina suspected that last rumor was true.