The Fairy-Tale Detectives

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The Fairy-Tale Detectives Page 8

by Michael Buckley

“Get into the house!” Baba Yaga shouted, running for the door, and without hesitation everyone scrambled back through the doorway. Henry helped Morgan to her feet, and once inside, the old crone commanded her house to rise.

  Sabrina felt the floor heave beneath her. One side of the room tilted steeply and the group slid across the floor, crashing in a pile against the wall. Then the other side of the room was hoisted high and everyone slid the other way.

  “I love this house!” Puck crowed.

  “I hate this house,” Sabrina said. She had seen it move from the outside: it had legs—big, claw-footed things like those from a monstrous chicken.

  “House, run!” Baba Yaga cried, and the house took off at a clip. Everyone inside bounced around like they were inside a popcorn machine.

  Baba Yaga darted to her window and shouted a few screeching threats out at Mirror and Atticus. Then she reached over her head and a spear made from magic and smoke appeared in her hand. She hurled it out the window, followed by another, and yet another. Bunny took the other window, letting fly long tendrils of lightning from her fingertips. Despite their efforts, a massive explosion rocked the house, knocking everyone off their feet.

  “Now do you see what we’re up against?” Bunny demanded

  “You have my power at a price, poison maker,” Baba Yaga said.

  “A price?” Morgan cried.

  “What is in it for the Old Mother?” Baba Yaga croaked.

  Sabrina was incensed. “You get to live in a world that isn’t ruled by a maniac.”

  Baba Yaga laughed. “The world is always ruled by a maniac.”

  “Fine, Old Mother. You want payment for your services. Name your price,” the Wicked Queen said.

  “Your eyes.”

  No one in the house spoke, and for a moment all they could hear were the explosions outside. Had Sabrina heard the old witch correctly? Had Baba Yaga just asked Bunny Lancaster for her eyes? She glanced around the room. On a table nearby was a jar of what she had previously hoped were hard-boiled eggs. Now she realized that had been wishful thinking.

  “Her eyes?” Henry repeated.

  “A witch’s magic is in her eyes,” Morgan explained. She looked distressed.

  “Every spell I’ve read, every experience I’ve lived through, every vision that has ever come to me are held in them. In essence, giving her my eyes is giving her my power,” Bunny said.

  “That’s my deal, Your Majesty. This coven requires a crone—unless you want to dig up Frau Pfefferkuchenhaus’s worm-eaten corpse.” Baba Yaga cackled.

  Another blast slammed into the house, and this time the structure could not stand its ground. It stumbled forward and crashed face-first into the forest floor. Sabrina grabbed her sister’s hand just as everyone slid with an orchestra of groans into the windows in a mess of legs and arms. Elvis got the worst of the weight and whimpered at the bottom of the pile.

  “Get up, house!” Baba Yaga screeched, and the house obeyed. Unfortunately, its efforts to regain its footing sent the people inside bouncing and tumbling again. It was a miracle that no one was killed, especially when the house rocked back and forth like a prizefighter shaking off an uppercut. It lumbered onward, only to be blasted and fall yet again.

  From outside, Mirror called to them. “Is there really any point to the running? What I’m asking for is such a small thing! You’ll only suffer by refusing.”

  “Don’t listen,” Atticus shouted. “The suffering is my favorite part.”

  “We have to fight them,” Puck said, pulling his sword from his belt.

  “That thing out there has access to all arcana. We don’t have the magic. We need the power of three if we stand a chance,” Bunny Lancaster said.

  The house was rocked by a third massive assault. When Sabrina righted herself, she saw Baba Yaga extending her hand to the Wicked Queen.

  Morgan gasped. “Bunny, don’t do it.”

  “I have made bigger sacrifices,” the queen said as she reached out and took the crone’s hand. “Very well, Old Mother. We have a deal.”

  Baba Yaga smiled a ghastly smile. There was a flash and a rumble and to Sabrina’s shock and disbelief it looked as if their hands turned to stone—like the hands of a statue in a sculpture garden. Then the rocky flesh cracked as if filled with red-hot magma. Both witches then extended their hands to Morgan, who joined them. Her hands went through the same eerie change until they all looked toward the ceiling and said, “We are bound by coven.”

  The electricity in the air made everyone’s hair stand on end. The trio faced the open windows and chanted an incantation in an ancient language. A wave of tremendous magic exploded out of their chests and flowed out the window. Sabrina raced to the window just in time to see the magic transform into a massive giant, a hundred feet tall, made of mist and wind. The mist giant attacked Mirror and Atticus, snatching them in its unearthly fists. Atticus fought with his sword and Mirror launched into a barrage of spells, but their efforts could not stop the creature.

  “Crone, you’ve got them occupied for the time being, but we need to get this house out of here,” Henry shouted.

  Baba Yaga ordered her house to run, and it got back up on its legs and dashed away, leaving the villains far behind them. As they left Mirror and Atticus in the distance, Sabrina watched the two villains—one with a face of evil and one with a face of love. She quietly prayed that the next time they met she would know how to stop them both.

  ctober 15 (part 2)

  So, our attempt to boost the morale around the castle has sort of backfired. Well, not sort of—totally. Mainly because our latest recruit has freaking terrified everyone. Baba Yaga has been walking around eyeing everyone and licking her lips like they were all pieces of fried chicken. The Pied Piper and Wendell barricaded themselves in one of the cabins. Puss in Boots darted underneath a shed and refused to come out. The Scarecrow burst into tears, ruining his face. He had to paint on brand-new eyes and a mouth, which in my opinion makes him no less creepy than Baba Yaga. Bunny is trying to assure everyone that they are safe and that the old witch is a big part of the plan. I’m wondering what this plan is, ’cause I feel like we’re wandering in the dark.

  Anyway, now that the coven has been built I guess it’s my turn to do my part—leading everyone to their deaths. I did a head count of my “troops” to see what I’m working with, and our grand total is 24 people. We’ve got two old men, a beauty queen, a little boy with a harmonica, some circus bears, a man made out of hay, a bird, a cat wearing work boots, a feng shui consultant, and now a flesh-hungry witch and her walking house. And these people have the nerve to look at me like I’m going to let them down.

  Bunny says she’s going to get me help, but she’s asked for something in return. She wants us to keep our mouths shut about Atticus. She says she doesn’t want to make things any more complicated, especially with Snow, who already keeps her mother at arm’s length. We agreed, but in my opinion Snow has a right to know about the man and more importantly she has a right to know what her mother did to protect him from her. I suppose Bunny is trying to find the right way to explain it all.

  Oh, and on a side note, Puck told my dad he was going to marry me.

  Worst. Day. Ever.

  That night, Sabrina and her sister slept in one of the fortress’s cabins with Elvis. They pushed together two cots so they could sleep as they had been doing for years—side by side—and snuggled close to each other to fight off the room’s many drafts. Elvis lay at the foot of the bed, eventually making his way between them and then entirely on the pillows. It was a fitful night for Sabrina, filled with terrible nightmares. In each dream, Mirror was strangling her and laughing. She woke several times, breathing hard and grasping at her throat. Daphne lay next to her, her little arms wrapped around the Book of Everafter. Elvis, who was usually as heavy of a sleeper as Daphne, snuggled up with Sabrina and licked her chin, but his attempts at comfort didn’t help.

  “I heard your shouts,” a voice said from the
shadows and Mr. Canis stepped forward. “I came to investigate.”

  Sabrina nodded. “Bad dreams.”

  “You have my sympathy,” the old man said. “I’ve suffered all my life. I find meditation before bed to be the most effective.”

  “What are you doing up so late?”

  “Trying to be useful,” the old man said, then pointed at the Book of Everafter. “This camp is filled with people who are untrustworthy. Perhaps I should take the book for safekeeping.”

  “I’ll talk to Daphne about it in the morning,” Sabrina said. “She’s convinced she’s going to find something in it that will help.”

  “Very well,” Mr. Canis said, and was soon gone.

  Sabrina lay still listening to the wind and the forest and the world. Meditation might help, but right now what she needed was some air.

  She snatched an extra blanket from under the cots and wrapped it around her like a cloak, then stepped out into the frosty air. The moon hid behind storm clouds that turned its light dull and milky, and a wind brushed through leaves and branches.

  She wandered around the grounds wirhout a destination, just content in her aloneness. Eventually, she came across Briar’s grave. There, she spotted Uncle Jake sitting in his chair. She was happy he was back and wanted to rush to him and tell him that she loved him and that he wasn’t alone in his grief, but she suddenly understood that, like herself, he probably wanted to be alone. She was about to creep away when she heard his voice. At first she thought he was talking to himself, but then she realized he was talking to Briar. Sabrina listened as he talked about what he had seen in the forest that day: the colors of trees, the crunch of his feet under leaves, the signs of animals preparing for winter, and the beauty of the long, red sunset. But mostly he talked about how hard it was not to share those things with her firsthand.

  Before Sabrina knew it, she was wiping tears off her cheeks.

  “You got something to say, Sabrina?” Jake asked.

  Sabrina stepped into the light. “I didn’t mean to spy. I couldn’t sleep.”

  Jake smiled. “I like to talk to her,” he said as he gestured to the grave. “I like to think she can hear me, wherever she is. I tell her how much I miss her and how I’m going to avenge her.”

  “Please don’t do it,” Sabrina said quietly.

  “I don’t expect any of you to understand. If what I do makes me the bad guy, well, I’ll have to live with it, but I can’t live with letting it go.” He scooped up his bow and arrows. “I only stopped by to say hello to her. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  She followed him to the gate and watched as the drawbridge, recently repaired, lowered. Before he crossed the bridge he turned to her. “I heard the news about the prophecy. I’d wish you luck, but these days I’m not sure the world is worth saving.”

  Sabrina wasn’t sure how to respond. Her instinct was to argue and give the man a pep talk, but at the same time she had to admit she often felt the same way. Life seemed to be mostly loss and pain and heartache.

  “It’s a stupid prophecy,” she said. “Two kids are really going to save the world?”

  “Save the people you love,” Uncle Jake said. “Who cares about the rest of the world?”

  And then he was gone, leaving her alone with the murky moon.

  • • •

  In the morning, Sabrina woke to a knock on her cabin door. When she opened it, she found Charming, Mr. Seven, and Mr. Canis standing in the doorway.

  “We need to talk,” Charming said. “We’ve had a deserter.”

  “Who?”

  “Puss in Boots,” Mr. Canis said. “He slipped out early this morning.”

  Daphne sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. “Why? Is it because of Baba Yaga?”

  “We hope,” Mr. Seven said, “though there’s a chance he could have been a spy.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “The cat wasn’t a spy and it wasn’t Baba Yaga. He was afraid Daphne and I were going to screw everything up.”

  Charming sighed. “He may just be the first. The mood around here is definitely dark. We can’t afford to lose more, so you and your sister need to get out of your jammies and get to work.”

  “And what do you suggest we do?” Sabrina grumbled. “There’s only twenty-four people in this army.”

  “Twenty-three, now,” Daphne said.

  “We’re not talking about the army,” Canis said. “Mr. Seven has another idea.”

  “Our people have been suffering for a long time. It’s hard to be afraid all the time, especially when it looks like things just get worse and worse every day. We’re going to throw a party,” the little man said.

  “What do you want us to do—rent a bouncy castle and a cotton candy machine?” Sabrina asked.

  “Actually, I was thinking we should have a wedding,” Mr. Seven said.

  “A wedding?” Sabrina repeated.

  “How romantic!” Daphne cried. She jumped up in bed and clapped happily.

  Seven smiled. “A surprise wedding. One where the bride doesn’t know she’s getting married until she walks down the aisle. We need your help.”

  When Sabrina looked over, Daphne was already biting hard on her palm.

  • • •

  Sabrina couldn’t be sure if the wedding would boost morale, but she was happy with the effect it was having on her. Keeping it a secret tapped into an old familiar feeling: being sneaky. Not so long ago, Sabrina was known as the Queen of the Sneaks. She had earned the title from her year in foster care. She knew how to open a creaky window without making a sound. She knew how to slink across a room without stepping on a loose floorboard. She knew how to crawl out onto a roof, shimmy down a trellis, and tiptoe past a watchdog without making a peep. Keeping the wedding plans from the eyes and ears of Morgan le Fay reminded her that she wasn’t a complete loser. She had skills—occasionally illegal skills, but skills nonetheless—and she was determined to make the most of them.

  In the shadows and in whispered conversations she gave everyone a job. Flowers, music, food, and the most important job of all, keeping the bride busy until everything was ready. Since the castle was nearly finished, its rooms also needed to be decorated. Morgan had a simple spell for creating furniture from thin air, and Sabrina knew exactly who to team her up with: Goldilocks. Goldi had an eye for interior design. She also had an obsession with things being just right. Under her direction, Morgan would be busy all day.

  And it worked. All the pressure and frustration of the prophecy was pushed aside and the tiny community leaped headfirst into planning and preparation. It was the first time Sabrina had seen everyone smiling since her arrival. She even caught Pinocchio humming the wedding march as he and Gepetto built a platform for the couple to stand upon when they exchanged their vows.

  “A wedding under the stars is a lovely idea, Sabrina,” Snow said as the two stood back and admired the yard.

  “Your boyfriend gave me a lot of the ideas,” Sabrina said. “He’s quite the romantic.”

  “I’ve always thought so,” Snow said as she gazed lovingly at Charming, who was working with Nurse Sprat to create some sort of seating chart. “I just hope he saves some for our wedding.”

  “Has he asked?” Sabrina said.

  Snow smiled. “He will. Or I will, if I get tired of waiting. I hope it’s half as nice as this one.”

  Wildflowers lined the path to two beautiful wooden arches interwoven with roses and white lilies. Several rows of chairs, each wrapped in more of the flowers, awaited guests. Mallobarb and Buzzflower hovered overhead on their wide insect wings. They showered the space with magical glitter, making the scene appear otherworldly. It was enough to take Sabrina’s breath away. She hoped Morgan would feel the same.

  “Well, I better get ready. I didn’t exactly pack for a formal engagement,” Mr. Seven said, nervously. “I hope my bride doesn’t hate my sneakers and blue jeans.”

  Sabrina looked down at herself and gasped. She was a mess. She couldn’t wear her ra
tty hooded sweatshirt and grungy shoes to a wedding. She rushed into the cabin that housed the magic mirror and darted into the Hall of Wonders. On the floor of her room was a stack of dirty clothes. She sorted through it, desperate to find anything that could be described as an “outfit.” All that she had managed to save from Granny’s demolished house were three pairs of pants, an oven mitt, a moth-eaten sweater, and eight shoes—none of which matched another. Desperate, she reached for her father’s Red Hot Chili Peppers concert shirt from 1990. She slipped it on, then ran into the mirror room to see how she looked. There was a huge green stain on it from one of Puck’s pranks. It was ruined.

  Sabrina was a card-carrying member of the tomboys club, but this particular injustice stung. It wasn’t like she needed a pretty dress or fancy shoes. She just wanted a declaration to the world that things weren’t that bad. If she could have her hair done and wash her face and put on a necklace and show up to a wedding during a war, then the battle hadn’t beaten them. A simple ribbon in her hair would have done it—evidence that there were still very normal things in this abnormal world, and someday, those normal things would return. But she couldn’t win this fight. She couldn’t even find a clean T-shirt.

  Sabrina wandered over to the Council of Mirrors for some company. “No one has anything nice to wear, honey,” Fanny said as she and the other guardians appeared in their mirrors.

  “I know. I still want to try,” she said.

  “For Puck?” Donovan asked, then mimed some exaggerated kissing.

  Sabrina frowned. “No! Not for Puck. Who cares what he thinks?”

  “Don’t tease the girl, Donovan,” Arden chided.

  Sabrina buried her face in her hands while the mirrors tried to console her. “Everything is a mess.”

  As she sobbed, she felt a hand in hers and sniffed. “I’m OK, Daphne.”

  “No you’re not,” a voice replied, but it wasn’t Daphne. It was Red. “None of us are OK.”

  Red’s attempt to comfort her took Sabrina off guard. Of all the people in the Grimm family, Sabrina had been the most indifferent to the little girl. It was hard to forget that Red had tried to hurt her family, even if she had been under the control of an evil force. Sabrina knew it wasn’t fair to hold a grudge, but there was a wall around her heart nonetheless.

 

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