The Inside Story

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The Inside Story Page 11

by Michael Buckley


  “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.”

  Just then, there was a horrible scream from behind Sabrina. She turned to find a mob of people rushing in her direction.

  “They’re coming!” someone cried. “Run for your lives!”

  The crowd stampeded through the courtyard while a few desperate knights struggled to raise the drawbridge. King Arthur passed by Sabrina in the crowd, his magical sword Excalibur raised and ready.

  “What’s going on?” Sabrina said, keeping one eye on Mirror.

  “The Editor hath sent his filthy creatures upon us,” he said.

  “Revisers!” Mirror said. For the first time in her life, Sabrina could see fear in the little man’s face.

  There was a terrible crunch, and when Sabrina turned around she saw that the drawbridge had come crashing down. A wave of pink revisers scurried on tiny limbs into the courtyard. Arthur and his knights raced to fight them back, slashing despera
tely with their swords. Mirror disappeared in the bustle.

  “If any of you want out of this story, follow us,” Sabrina shouted. With her brother in her arms, along with Daphne and Duck and their companions from Wonderland, she followed the yarn as it weaved a haphazard path through the courtyard, circling columns and doubling back around fountains, until it led them into the castle itself and up to a long flight of stairs.

  “Please pick up the pace!” the dodo squawked. “The revisers are nipping at our heels.”

  Sabrina glanced back and found that the dodo was correct. Her party had gained at least thirty knights, courtiers, and princesses, all of whom were chased by the ravenous monsters. Sabrina watched them—they bounced around like jackals, chomping on everything in their way. What they consumed vanished, only to be replaced with a white nothingness. To call it a hole wouldn’t be accurate—what the monsters were doing was eliminating reality, in essence rubbing it out of existence like an eraser. Watching it was the scariest thing Sabrina had ever seen. No wonder the dodo was panicked.

  They soon reached the top of the stairs and raced down a long passageway. At the end they found the ball sputtering and rolling against a huge wooden door. Daphne tried the knob, but it was locked.

  “Hey, Arthur, you have a key to this door?” she shouted back to the king.

  “I’m afraid not,” the king said. “These are Sir Gawain’s quarters. He has decided to stay in the story.”

  “I can get us through the door, but you must take me with you,” a voice said from the back of the crowd. A small figure pushed its way to the front. It was Pinocchio.

  “You!” Sabrina cried.

  “I really can get that door open. Do we have a deal?”

  Daphne nodded. “Do it.”

  Pinocchio reached into his pocket and took out a pin. He slid it into the lock and twisted and turned until it clicked. “A little trick I learned while living on the streets of Italy,” he said.

  He pushed the door open. In the room beyond was a second door, this one standing upright in the middle of the room. Unfortunately, Mirror was standing in front of it.

  “I knew we couldn’t trust you,” Sabrina said to the boy.

  “I swear I had no clue he was here,” Pinocchio said.

  “Just wait. His nose will grow,” Daphne said. “It happens when he tells a lie.”

  “Give me the boy, Sabrina,” Mirror demanded, cutting off the bickering.

  Sabrina shook her head and struggled with her squirming brother. “He’s not yours. He belongs with us.”

  Mirror’s face turned purple with anger. The veins in his neck popped out and his eyes grew dark. “Those creatures will be here at any moment. Once they arrive, they will devour this room and everyone in it, including the boy.”

  “Then get out of the way and we’ll leave.”

  “They’re coming!” the dodo shouted. “You can stand and argue all you want. Just open the door and let us through.”

  “I agree,” Sir Lancelot shouted. “Your dispute does not involve us. Step aside and let us pass.”

  “Then we have a dilemma,” Mirror said. “I want the child. You want to pass. I’ll let everyone through this door if one of you brings me my boy.”

  “Hand him over,” the Cheshire Cat cried. “He will still be alive, as will we. What good is there in letting us all die?”

  Puck drew his sword, but his arm shook from the earlier blasts. “I will run through the first person who even thinks of trying.” His weakened state sapped the necessary intimidation from the threat.

  The first reviser scurried into the room. Its sharp little teeth chomped and gnashed. Then it sprang at Sir Lancelot. The knight fought fiercely, swinging his sword at the monster, but the reviser was fast and agile. It leaped out of the way of Lancelot’s attacks until it sank its teeth into the man’s sword. A second later, the sword was gone. Three more revisers sprang into the room and jumped on Lancelot, the dodo, and King Arthur.

  “It’s the only way to save his life, Starfish,” Mirror said with open arms.

  “Daddy!” the boy cried.

  Sabrina felt faint and flushed. Her head was turning like a top. What should she do? What was the right choice?

  “Give him to Mirror,” a voice said. Sabrina turned, ready to throttle whoever had spoken. She was surprised to find it was Daphne.

  Reluctantly, Sabrina held out her brother to Mirror. She had no choice.

  “We will stop him. We’ll have another chance,” Daphne said.

  “I have no doubt you will try,” Mirror said as the toddler hugged him. Mirror paid little mind to his affection. He held him the way one might a sack of groceries. He opened the door and stepped into the angry wind, and then he was gone.

  “Clearly that was the responsible choice,” the White Rabbit said.

  If Sabrina could kill someone with a look, the rabbit would have died on the spot. “Get through the door,” she shouted. “Every last cowardly one of you!”

  The crowd rushed past her and fled into the empty void of the door. Puck snatched Pinocchio by his collar.

  “You’re sticking with me, toothpick,” he said as the little boy fought to escape his grip. Pinocchio’s hand shot into his pocket and the fairy godmother wand came out. He flicked it and it lit up like a firecracker. A blast came out that narrowly missed Puck’s foot. Unfortunately, it hit the ball of magic yarn instead. The ball let out a little yelp and smoke came out of it.

  Daphne reached down and snatched the ball. “If you busted this, you’re in deep trouble.” She tried to take the magic wand from Pinocchio but he squirmed free and jumped through the portal before anyone could stop him.

  At that moment, Sabrina couldn’t have cared less about him. “Just go!” she said as a tear dropped from her cheek. She followed the others through the door. The last thing Sabrina saw was the gnashing teeth of the revisers.

  Sabrina found herself inside a tiny horse-drawn coach packed to its roof with children. Her group’s sudden appearance triggered a massive groan from the already crowded kids as they were shoved violently into smaller and tighter corners of the coach. Sabrina had never had claustrophobia before, but at that moment she felt trapped and unable to breathe.

  “Sabrina!” Daphne’s voice cried out from somewhere in the mob.

  “I’m here,” Sabrina said, choking. She tried to turn, but dozens of bodies were pressing against her. It felt like being locked inside a coffin or buried alive. She could feel panic coming on like a typhoon and her stomach was swirling uncomfortably. “Stay calm,” she told herself.

  “Where are we?” the Cheshire Cat said, shoving the crowd for a little space. His efforts tumbled the children back and forth.

  “And where’s Pinocchio?” Daphne asked.

  “I see him,” Puck said from somewhere behind Sabrina. “He’s outside the coach, near the driver.”

  Sabrina pushed against the mob of children and peered between the bars separating the coach from the front of the vehicle. She spotted a short, fat tub of a man who was wider than he was tall sitting with his back to her. His appearance was almost inhuman—more like a drawing of how a person might look than an actual person. The strange driver rode atop a buckboard and steered a team of skinny donkeys. Sitting next to him was Pinocchio.

  “What story are we in?” Sabrina called out to him.

  “Mine,” Pinocchio said. The smile on his face was not reassuring.

  “Uh-oh,” Daphne said.

  “I have to get out of here,” Sabrina said as she pulled on the bars that lined the coach. She fought desperately, letting out a terrified scream, and then everything turned a milky gray and flashed black . . .

  When she woke, she saw her sister above her and a crowd of concerned faces gathered around. She was no longer in the coach. She was lying on a cold, cobblestone street.

  “What happened?” she said, trying to sit up. Her eyes felt like they were rolling in their sockets, so she lay back down for a moment.
r />   “You fainted,” Daphne said.

  “Where’s Pinocchio?” she asked.

  Daphne pointed down the street toward a little town. She saw a banner that read WELCOME TO TOYLAND.

  Sabrina craned her neck for a better view and saw a bizarre little town lined with multicolored houses and streets littered with discarded toys. Everywhere she looked there were children running and playing without a care in the world. The biggest house on the street was under attack by an army of children dressed in tinfoil armor. A boy dressed in a king’s robes and a cardboard crown stood on the roof waving a paper sword and laughing at the approaching army. His soldiers below him were pelting them with water balloons and eggs.

  “Just rest,” Daphne said.

  Sabrina forced herself to her feet. “We can’t. We have to turn him over to the Editor.”

  Daphne looked concerned as she took out the ball of yarn. She said Pinocchio’s name into it and set it on the ground. It popped and fizzled, but would not roll forward.

  “That magic-wand blast must have fried it,” Daphne said. “I think we should leave it alone for a while—give it time to cool off.”

  Sabrina frowned and took a few deep breaths. “Then we’ll do this the old-fashioned way. We should split up. Arthur, Lancelot, Guinevere—take a few of the other knights. You’re in one group. Puppy, rabbit, cat, dodo—take some knights with you, too. My sister and Puck and I will stick together.” She didn’t want anyone slowing them down.

  “I must protest your plan,” the White Rabbit said. “What if we do not find one another again? Any number of things could happen while we are here. One of us could become injured—or we could get lost. We would be trapped here.”

  “I couldn’t care less,” Sabrina said. “We’re not babysitting you.”

  Daphne raised her hands to calm the group. “Rabbit, you’re the one with the pocket watch. Meet us back here in an hour. And everyone else, do yourself a favor and don’t play with any of the kids in the town. Playing is a bad thing.”

  “The words you say are insane,” Puck said. “They come out of your mouth like regular words but make no sense.”

 

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