“You’ve sent this letter to every human in town? What if the people can’t pay?” Granny Relda asked.
“Then we’ll repossess their property.”
“What does ‘repossess’ mean?” Daphne whispered in Sabrina’s ear.
“It means they can take our house and kick us out into the street,” Sabrina replied, quickly realizing why the bike shop, florist, and antiques store had closed their doors.
Daphne turned to Nottingham. “Where will we go?”
“That’s not the town’s concern,” Nottingham said, cracking his knuckles. “But don’t worry. You have until Friday to pay your bill.”
That’s only two days away, Sabrina thought.
Sabrina watched out the window as the car cruised through the little town. She felt as if she were seeing it for the first time. It hadn’t been long ago when she had thought Ferryport Landing was boring and old-fashioned, but she had learned to love it. Now it was disappearing right before her eyes. Moving trucks were parked outside of homes as burly men loaded beds, wardrobes, record players, and clothes onto them. Everyone, it appeared, was having a yard sale, hawking their most prized possessions in hopes of paying the tax or having something to start a new life somewhere else. She imagined Nottingham and Mayor Heart driving through the town and rubbing their greedy hands together, cackling at the troubles they had heaped on the human population.
“This is nothing to worry about,” Granny Relda said, though her expression didn’t match her confident words. She kept reading and rereading the tax letter. “Nothing to worry about at all.”
“Granny, do we have a hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” Daphne asked.
The old woman shook herself out of a daze. “I’m sorry, liebling. What did you say?”
“Do we have the money to pay the taxes?”
Granny flinched at the question, like she had been stung by a bee. “We’ll be fine, girls,” she said to them, but Sabrina was already nervous. During her time in the orphanage, and later in dozens of foster homes, she had acquired the ability to recognize a lying adult.
Later that evening, the girls dressed in their white martial arts robes, called Gis. The uniform consisted of white pants and a robe shirt with a sash of colored cloth used as a belt. Sabrina helped Daphne wrap her brown belt around her waist and then tied her own yellow one. The colors represented levels of expertise; brown was for beginners, yellow was more advanced. Once the girls were ready, they met Puck in the hallway. Dressed in his usual jeans and green hooded sweatshirt, he had a big black scarf wrapped around his waist.
“I think you have to earn your black belt,” Daphne said.
Puck rolled his eyes. “I’m already the best butt-kicker in this town. They don’t even have a color for how good I am.”
Sabrina shrugged and unlocked the spare-room door that led to her sleeping parents and Mirror. After kissing her parents on the cheek, Sabrina led the others through the reflection, where they found Mirror sitting in a chair enjoying a glass of brandy and some expensive chocolates.
“Snow’s down the hall,” he said, pointing. “Have fun!”
The children walked the way Mirror had pointed and soon found the gorgeous teacher waiting for them near the rooms that held magical hats and “Tooth Fairy Teeth.” Snow wore a white robe like the girls’, but with a black belt wrapped around her waist. She had her long dark hair tied up in a bun and was barefoot.
“Hello, children,” she said, bowing.
“Hello, sensei,” Sabrina and Daphne said together as they bowed back to her. Puck, however, was picking his nose.
“Tonight we are going to continue to work on our blocking,” Ms. White said.
Puck let out an exasperated groan. “Again! When are we going to learn to punch someone in the face?”
Snow White sighed. “Puck, I told you when you asked to join the girls’ training sessions that martial arts are not about attack. They’re about defense.”
“Well, I’m starting my own martial art then,” he said. “It’s called Puck-fu and there’s only one move you need to learn—the knuckle sandwich.”
“Well, I wish you luck with that, but Mrs. Grimm and I feel that the girls should learn to defend themselves against attackers,” Ms. White said. “Now, everyone, let’s get into our defensive stance.”
Ms. White moved among the group, throwing training punches that allowed the children to block her attacks with ease. As the night rolled on, the attacks became more forceful. They worked on closehanded and openhanded blocks, how to step aside to avoid a punch, and how to use their own wrists to stop an assault. Ms. White was a patient teacher, though Sabrina could tell she was a bit preoccupied. She knew that Charming’s disappearance was weighing heavy on Ms. White’s heart. Sabrina wanted to reach out to her, but what could she say? She certainly felt sympathy for Snow’s worries and broken heart, but Charming was a jerk. He had never done anything that wasn’t in his own interest. He’d only ever helped the Grimms to impress Ms. White or to advance his own career. Sabrina wondered what the teacher even saw in the pompous blowhard. Sure, he was breathtakingly handsome, but once he opened his mouth he turned into a first-class lout. Still, she felt she should say something.
“He’ll turn up,” she said softly.
Ms. White looked as if she were fighting back tears. “I hope so,” she whispered, then told the children she would see them in a couple of days for their next class. The girls walked with her out of the Hall of Wonders, downstairs, and then outside, waving when her car pulled out of the driveway.
Sabrina closed the door and went to the dining room where Puck was wolfing down some kind of soup. There was a note on the table from Granny explaining that she had gone to bed early, that Mr. Canis was in his room, and that Uncle Jake had gone out for the night. She advised the children to have as much soup as they wanted and then to get to work researching tiny people and any small animals that might be capable of stealing magical items. Sabrina was dumbfounded. After their run-in with Nottingham and the news of the tax assessment she had completely forgotten they were even involved in a mystery.
“She must be worried,” Daphne said as she peered into the pot. “There’s nothing purple in the food.”
Sabrina poured some soup into a bowl for her sister and then did the same for herself. Then they sat with Puck, who, after several threats, surrendered a few of the rolls he had been hoarding.
“You better be nice to me, piggy,” Puck said with a mouthful of soup. “When you two are homeless, you’re going to want to live with me in the forest and I’m not going to let just anyone live in my forest!”
“Are we really going to be homeless?” Daphne asked.
“No!” Sabrina said.
“Don’t lie to her,” Puck chimed in. “Things are bleak, marshmallow. If I were you, I’d eat as much of this soup as you can. It might be the last meal you get for a long time. Hoboes have to eat out of garbage cans and beg for crusts of bread in the street.”
“I don’t want to be a hobo,” Daphne said, then turned to her sister. “What’s a hobo?”
Sabrina ignored the question and got up from the table.
“Give me that roll, and I’ll find you a nice warm refrigerator box to sleep in,” Puck said.
“Daphne, don’t listen to him,” Sabrina said.
Daphne glanced at her sister but surrendered her roll to the boy.
“We need to get to work,” Sabrina said with a sigh.
“Well, that’s my cue,” Puck said as he pushed back from the table. He had once claimed he was allergic to books and that people who tried to improve their minds were just admitting stupidity. He flew off to his room and left the girls alone.
Sabrina went to the bookshelves to begin her search for anything on little thieves. She found some books by Tiny Tim, Thumbelina, and one titled Life Is Futile, by Itsy Bitsy Spider. She scooped them all up, set them on the table, then went back to scan the collection of family journals. Every Grimm since Wilhe
lm, the man who brought the Everafters to Ferryport Landing, had documented his or her experiences in the town. Each journal was packed with eyewitness accounts, and they frequently proved very helpful in solving cases.
For hours, Sabrina and Daphne pored over the old books. They read about the Mouse King of Oz, who ruled a million mice; sorted through the various campaigns of an army of tin soldiers; and learned about the history of Lilliput. But they found nothing concrete and soon they came to a dead end. It was very late and they were very tired. Even Elvis was asleep under the table.
“I thought detective work was supposed to be exciting,” Sabrina said, closing the book that lay before her.
“I’m excited,” Daphne said.
“You’re always excited,” Sabrina replied, resting her head on the giant oak dining room table they used as a desk. “Granny has probably solved this case already and won’t tell us what she knows.”
“We’re training,” Daphne reminded her. “She wants us to figure this out for ourselves.”
“She wants to drive us crazy. This town is filled to the brim with talking animals and tiny people, not to mention witches who might be able to shrink themselves. How can we narrow it down?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Daphne said. “Remember, we’re a great team.”
Sabrina was tired but she had to smile. “C’mon, Elvis, you’ve probably got to go out,” Sabrina said as she got up from the table.
The big dog nearly knocked Sabrina over as he charged for the front door. Sabrina opened it and Elvis barreled out. “Don’t go far,” she shouted at the dog, then crossed back through the dining room on her way to the kitchen.
“I’m getting some water,” she said to her sister. “Want anything?”
Daphne shook her head. She was half asleep with her head resting on a big book about a village in Oz whose citizens were made of jigsaw-puzzle pieces.
Sabrina went into the kitchen, took a glass from the cupboard, and opened the refrigerator. Inside, there were several containers of leftovers, a package of bologna, and a bowl with a little sign on it that read DANGER! SAUSAGES! KEEP AWAY FROM ELVIS AT ALL COSTS! Sabrina knew the explosive effect they had on the dog. She reached past them for the jug of water her uncle kept in the fridge. She poured some into her glass. Tilting her head back, she took a long refreshing drink and let the cool liquid cascade down her throat. Then she heard Elvis’s angry bark.
She peered out of the kitchen window and saw the big dog growling and barking at the edge of the woods. Puck was probably in the backyard preparing another humiliating trap for her, or maybe Elvis was spooked by the odd swirling clouds hovering over the house. Elvis hated thunder and lightning and often hid under the girls’ bed during particularly loud storms.
She turned to put the jug back in the refrigerator but spun back around when she heard a loud cry. Sabrina bolted to the window. There in the moonlight she saw her uncle Jake running through the yard. He looked panicked. Suddenly there was a whipping sound, and he crashed to the ground. An arrow was stuck in his back.
abrina dropped her glass, and it shattered on the kitchen floor. The crash snapped her out of her shock and she sprang into action. She raced into the dining room, pulled her sister from her chair, and shoved her under the table.
“Stay here!” she ordered, then ran for the front door, shouting for Granny and Mr. Canis. In her bare feet, she raced outside and around the corner into the backyard. She found her uncle lying facedown. Sabrina gently turned him over and he let out a groan.
“Uncle Jake!” she cried, though looking at him closely, she wasn’t positive that he was her uncle. There was something wrong with his face. He had a goatee and a large scar on his neck that looked as if a rope had been tied around it. His hair was gray on the sides and his eyes seemed dull. He was clearly in a great deal of pain.
“’Brina?”
“Granny and Mr. Canis are going to help you. They’re on their way,” Sabrina said through sobs.
“’Brina, you look so young,” he said. “You look just like you did when you were twelve.”
He’s raving from the pain, Sabrina thought to herself. He needs a doctor right away. “Someone help us!” she yelled. The storm above was incredibly loud, so she shouted again. She climbed to her feet and turned to the house. “Help!”
Elvis joined her cries with baleful barking, and in no time, Granny and Mr. Canis were rushing out of the house.
“Liebling, what is the matter?” Granny begged. She was in her nightgown and slippers and had a green mud mask on her face.
“It’s Uncle Jake. He’s been hurt,” Sabrina cried, turning to the fallen man. But there was no sign of him. Bewildered, Sabrina scanned the edge of the woods. How could he have crawled away so quickly, and without her noticing? She studied the lawn, searching for a trail of blood, but there was nothing.
“But . . . he was lying right here on the ground. I saw him. I saw the arrow! He was dying.”
Elvis rushed to the place where Uncle Jake had been lying. He sniffed the ground and whined.
“Child, you are mistaken,” Canis said. “I can smell such things. No one has been injured.”
“Sabrina, it’s late. You must have been having a bad dream,” Granny said. “Your Opa Basil used to walk in his sleep too.”
“No! I saw him. He was right here. We have to look for him!” she cried.
Uncle Jake walked around from the front of the house. He was his normal self. No scar on his neck and no goatee. “What’s all the commotion?”
Sabrina suddenly felt woozy. Her eyes filled with little flashes of light and her face grew hot. “You were hurt . . . ,” she tried to say, but then everything went black.
When Sabrina awoke the next morning she felt as if she had been asleep for a hundred years. She was groggy and awkward, and her legs felt like cooked spaghetti as she descended the steps to join her family for breakfast. When she saw that Uncle Jake was working his way through a box of donuts, she began to wonder if her grandmother was right. Maybe the entire incident had just been a vivid nightmare.
“Feeling better?” Granny said, entering the dining room with a tray of what looked like magenta-colored hash browns. The old woman scooped a spoonful on everyone’s plate and a second helping onto Puck’s. Elvis hovered under the table, licking Sabrina’s feet as if to remind her that he had seen the odd incident as well.
“I’m fine,” Sabrina said, though her head felt full of sludge.
“We were worried when you fainted. I fear you may have accidentally touched something at Baba Yaga’s house that made you hallucinate,” Granny said.
“What does ‘hallucinate’ mean?” Daphne asked.
“It’s when you think you see something that isn’t really there,” Sabrina said.
“It usually means you’ve lost your marbles,” Puck added.
“We’re going to have to be more careful when we go back,” their grandmother said as she sat down to eat.
“Go back?” Sabrina exclaimed. “There’s no way we’re setting foot in that loony-bin again!”
“I can’t wait to go back,” Puck said. “Baba Yaga is very punk rock.”
“Sabrina, of course we have to go back when we find her wand,” Granny said, kissing her on the forehead. “Now, hurry up and eat and then get dressed. We’ve got a another busy day ahead of us.”
“Are we back on the case?” Daphne asked in between bites.
Granny nodded. “But first we have to pay our taxes.”
The courthouse was a grand building with a dome and marble columns. It sat just a few doors down from the police station. Outside, a huge crowd of people milled around carrying signs and shouting angrily.
“Looks like a protest,” Sabrina said, noticing a sign that had the word TAX painted on it with a big red slash through it.
Mr. Canis pulled the car over to the side of the road to park. “Relda, I don’t believe it would be wise for me to walk through that crowd in my current condition.?
??
Granny agreed. “Yes, a seven-foot man with a tail might attract some attention. Stay here. We’ll be back in a jiffy.”
The Grimms eased their way through the angry mob and up the steps of the building. The people they passed looked desperate. An elderly man grabbed Sabrina by the arm and pleaded, “They can’t do this to us. We’ve got nowhere to go.”
Frightened, Sabrina pulled away and caught up with her grandmother and sister. They entered the double doors of the courthouse and immediately spotted an armed guard who gave them directions to the tax assessor’s office.
“Is there much of a line?” Granny asked the man.
The guard shook his head. “You’re the first people I know of who have the money to pay.”
Following his directions, they soon came to a door at the end of a long narrow hallway. TAX ASSESSOR’S OFFICE was stenciled on the door and a little red tag hanging from the doorknob read BE BACK IN 15 MINUTES.
“I guess we have to wait,” Granny said.
Fifteen minutes turned into two and a half hours. Eventually they spotted a short, stocky person approaching from the other end of the hallway. As she came closer Sabrina recognized Mayor Heart, the former “Queen of Hearts” from the famous Alice adventures documented by Lewis Carroll. Sabrina thought she looked like a demented beauty pageant contestant. Her face was painted in bold, harsh colors—bloodred lips, dark purple eye shadow, mahogany brown eyebrows, and a black hole of a beauty mark on her left cheek. She was wearing an elaborate crimson gown of silk and lace that had little red hearts sewn into it. She also held an electronic megaphone in one bloated pink hand. The angry mob followed behind her, waving their tax assessment letters in the air furiously. Mayor Heart seemed to be enjoying their frustration and hopelessness, or perhaps she had applied a permanent smile with her obnoxious makeup. Sabrina couldn’t be sure.
“People, what’s done is done,” Mayor Heart said through the entirely too-loud megaphone. Her words blasted the people and echoed off the walls, causing a high-pitched feedback that rang in everyone’s ears. “The city needs the funds, and you’re going to pay them or you’re going to move.”