“What’s this?” Daphne asked.
Sabrina shrugged and stepped through the arch. There, she saw Pinocchio, surrounded by his evil marionettes, standing in front of a wall with thousands of pieces of broken mirrors glued to it. None of them reflected anything; rather, they acted like windows into places all over town and beyond. A quick glance showed her Nottingham’s office, Mayor Heart’s study, Jack the Giant Killer’s empty apartment, even the Wizard of Oz’s workroom at Macy’s in Manhattan. Mayor Heart was staring through one, as were the Frog Prince and many other members of the Scarlet Hand.
“Have the doors been opened in the Grimm home, Master?” Mayor Heart said from one of the shards.
“You’re the Master?!” Daphne shouted in disbelief at Pinocchio.
Pinocchio turned just as Daphne kicked him in the shin. The little boy howled and fell over. His marionettes leaped to his defense, jumping on Daphne’s back and punching her. It took all of Sabrina and Puck’s effort to free her from the tiny villains.
“Do you know the nightmare you have inflicted on my family? You’re a horrible, evil worm,” Sabrina shouted at the boy.
“I’m not the Master!” Pinocchio groaned as he held his wounded leg.
“Then what’s with the evil lair?” Puck said.
“It’s not his. It’s mine,” a familiar voice said behind them. “I am the Master.”
Sabrina spun around. Mirror was standing in the shadows, holding a little boy in his arms. A horrible mixture of terror, betrayal, shock, and disgust filled Sabrina’s head and heart. One moment she wanted to run—to put as much distance between herself and Mirror as possible. The next, she wanted to snatch him by the collar and shake him in fury until he explained himself.
“No. That can’t be,” Daphne whispered.
“You? You’re the Master? You’re the leader of the Scarlet Hand?” Sabrina said.
Mirror nodded his head slightly. “Yes.”
“But you—” Daphne said, trembling.
“But I was your friend? Is that what you were going to say?”
“Yes! I trusted you. We all trusted you!” Sabrina cried.
“Then I’m afraid you’ve made a terrible mistake,” Mirror said.
Enraged, Sabrina ran at Mirror, but a bolt of lightning stopped her in her tracks. She knew the kind of magic Mirror controlled, but never had it been directed at her.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Sabrina,” he said.
Sabrina studied the boy in Mirror’s arms. He was small, maybe a year and a half old. His curly red hair was the same shade as her grandmother’s locks. He had Sabrina’s father’s face and her mother’s beautiful eyes. “That’s my brother. You took him,” Sabrina spat.
Mirror nodded. “I can explain it all, Sabrina, but right now I have a wish to fulfill. Are you ready, Pinocchio?”
“I am,” the boy said, bowing respectfully.
“Very good,” Mirror said, then turned to the girls. “I’ll be needing your help.”
“Help doing what?” Daphne asked.
“Follow me,” he said. He led them back into the hall until they reached an oak door. Sabrina recognized it immediately. The door had two round stones set in its front, each with a sunken relief of a handprint—no keyhole and no plaque. “I need you to unlock this.”
Sabrina scanned it again. She still couldn’t find a keyhole.
“That’s not possible,” Sabrina said. “There’s no keyhole, and, besides, I don’t have a key.”
“Child, you and your sister are the keys,” Mirror said.
“I think Charming is right about you,” Daphne said. “You’re defective.”
Mirror huffed impatiently.
“This room has a special lock—one that can only be opened by a Grimm,” Mirror explained as he set the baby in Pinocchio’s arms. “I hoped Junior could do it for me, but it seems I need two members of your family.”
“Whatever is in there is staying in there,” Sabrina said. “We won’t open it.”
Mirror roughly snatched the girls and forced their hands onto the handprints. A warm, pleasant sensation came over Sabrina, like stepping out of a snowstorm into a toasty room. A chime rang in her ears, and the stone sank into the door. It triggered an orchestra of moving parts—internal locks and tumblers, a burst of steam that hissed from the cracks around the door, and, finally, a heavy clunk!
The door swung open. Mirror smiled wide and barged into the room, pulling Sabrina behind him. Most of the other rooms in the Hall of Wonders were overflowing with magical items or wild, fantastical creatures. This room, however, was completely empty except for an old, leather-bound book resting on a thin wooden stand.
Mirror caressed the book’s cover lovingly. “After eons of wishing and praying, you are finally mine.”
“Well, I guess we can relax. All Mr. Baldy wanted was a book,” Puck said. “I gotta tell you, Mirror, this is the most boring evil plan in the history of evil plans.”
“This isn’t just any old book. This is the Book of Everafter.”
“Sorry. I haven’t read it. I’m waiting for the movie,” Puck said.
Mirror scowled. “It’s the only one of its kind—a collection of stories about Everafters. Every fairy tale, folk story, and tall tale ever told is in these pages.”
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Sabrina said. Even across the room, she could feel the tickle of magic coming from the book.
“It’s a second chance at a happy ending, Sabrina,” Mirror said. He then turned to Pinocchio. He took the baby boy from him and gestured to the book. “You did well, boy, and I promised you a reward.”
“What do I need to do?” Pinocchio asked.
“Your story is in this book. Find it and change it to whatever you please. When you return to us, the changes will become reality. Your story will be rewritten, and so will you.”
“Wait! You’re saying he can go into his story and rewrite it? To change his own history?” Sabrina said. “That’s impossible.”
Mirror shook his head in disappointment. “Sabrina, with everything you’ve seen in this town, I would think you would know better by now. Nothing is impossible in Ferryport Landing.”
Pinocchio rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Let’s get started. What do I do?”
“I’m told it’s as simple as flipping it open,” Mirror said, handing the boy the huge book.
Pinocchio didn’t hesitate. He snatched the book away and opened it. A bright light shone from the pages as they rapidly flipped back and forth.
“I will never be able to find my story if it doesn’t slow down,” Pinocchio whined.
“You have to find your story, Pinocchio. It won’t put you there automatically, but there are doors that lead you from fable to fable,” Mirror shouted over the wind.
Pinocchio looked uncertain. He slipped his hand into the whirling pages, and—in a flash—he was gone. His marionettes chased after him, diving into the pages as if they were going for a swim.
“And now it’s my turn to change my story,” Mirror said, shifting the baby in his arms.
“Not a chance,” Puck said, and then he stepped between Mirror and the book. Mirror fired an electrical blast from his fingertips, and it hit the ground at Puck’s feet, knocking him aside.
“Don’t take the baby, Mirror. He’s got nothing to do with this,” Sabrina begged.
“Oh, he’s got everything to do with this.”
“You’re a traitor!” Sabrina yelled.
Mirror frowned. He looked genuinely hurt. “I’m not expecting you to understand, but try to imagine what my life has been like—trapped in this hall for eternity, bought and sold to the highest bidder like property, serving the whims of others.”
“We treated you well!” Sabrina shouted. “You were our friend.”
“No amount of kindness is a substitute for freedom. I’m going into the Book of Everafter, and I’m coming out a free man.”
“You can’t go in there,” Sabrina sai
d. “You can’t leave the Hall of Wonders.”
“I’m not leaving the Hall of Wonders,” Mirror said with a sly grin. “The book will be here the whole time.”
“But you’ll still be stuck in Ferryport Landing,” Daphne argued.
Mirror looked down at the child. “Not if I’m in a human body,” he said. He placed his hands into the whipping pages, and he and the baby vanished.
“He’s lost his mind,” Puck said, finally climbing to his feet.
“No he hasn’t,” Sabrina said, fiercely. “He knows exactly what he’s doing. It was his plan all along. He kidnapped our parents the moment he learned Mom was pregnant. Then, he took the baby and kept it safe until he could get us to open this room. Now he’s going to go into the book to change his story—I think so that his mind is in control of our baby brother.”
“But how?” Daphne cried.
“I don’t know, but we have to stop him,” Sabrina said.
“We’re not going in there,” Puck said, eyeing the power still blasting out of the book.
“Yeah, this is one of those times we should definitely wait for an adult’s help,” Daphne said.
“Everyone is at the other end of the hall without the trolley. It will take hours to get them and get back,” Sabrina argued. “Mirror could already be in his story, making the changes. He could be stealing the baby’s body as we speak. We have to do this ourselves.”
Daphne reached out and took Sabrina’s hand, and then she took Puck’s. He scowled but held on anyway.
“Every time I try to get out of the hero business, you pull me back in!”
The trio stepped toward the book.
“Any idea which story we’ll land in first?” Daphne asked.
Sabrina shook her head. “Just pray it’s not something insane. Some of these fairy tales are totally nuts.”
Sabrina put her hand on one of the book’s pages. There was an odd sensation, like being flushed down a toilet, and then everything went black.
When the lights came on, Sabrina looked down and then around. She was lying on the dirt floor of a wooden farmhouse. Her sister was safe and sound on a bed, wearing a yellow dress. Puck was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Puck?”
“Maybe he didn’t make it.” Daphne shrugged. “What story is this?”
Sabrina went to the door and opened it a crack. In the yard was a sea of little people. Right outside the door was a road made entirely of yellow bricks. She groaned.
“Not here,” she grumbled.
“Let me see,” Daphne said, and she pushed past her sister.
Their presence sent a cheer through the crowd, and the Munchkins rushed forward and lifted them both onto their tiny shoulders.
“You killed the Wicked Witch of the East,” one of the Munchkins cried. “You saved us all.”
Sabrina turned and saw a pair of legs jutting out from beneath the tiny farmhouse. They were wearing a pair of shiny silver shoes with a ruby-red tint to them.
“Daphne, I don’t think we’re in Ferryport Landing anymore.”
1
“I don’t think we’re in Ferryport Landing anymore,” Sabrina said to her sister, Daphne.
The sisters Grimm were trapped inside a shabby farmhouse, and they were completely surrounded.
“They’re singing for us,” Daphne said, looking outside.
“Get away from the window,” Sabrina scolded.
Like their surroundings, Daphne had changed. Gone were her overalls and sneakers. Instead, she wore a yellow dress. She smiled brightly, her eyes filled with curiosity as she peered outside. There, the girls found hundreds of little faces staring back at them.
“We're in Oz, aren’t we?” Daphne exclaimed.
Sabrina studied the road leading away from the house. It was paved with yellow bricks.
“This is so awesome!” Daphne squealed.
“No, Daphne, it’s not awesome. Everyone from Oz is crazy!”
“They’re just unusual. I can’t believe it! I didn’t believe Mirror at first, but look! We’re inside a real-live fairy tale!”
At the mention of Mirror, a wave of sadness swept over Sabrina. Her throat tightened, and she fought back tears. She felt betrayed, heartbroken, and confused. She never wanted to hear his name again.
“I wonder when Dorothy will show up,” Daphne mused.
“Try to focus,” Sabrina insisted. “We jumped into this book to save our baby brother. We don’t have time to waste with some idiot from Kansas. We need to come up with a plan.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Maybe we should start with opening the door?” Daphne suggested.
Sabrina sat down on one of the creaky beds. “They can wait. I . . . I really don’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry,” Daphne said, “but did the great Sabrina Grimm just say she didn’t have a plan?”
Sabrina knew her sister was teasing, but she couldn’t crack a smile. She was completely at a loss for ideas.
“Well, we can’t just sit here all day. Maybe the Munchkins have seen Mirror and our brother. They could point us in the right direction,” Daphne said as she opened the door.
Three men and a little old lady were waiting for them. They smiled brightly. “Welcome—” the woman started, but Sabrina jumped up and slammed the door in her face.
“We can’t just barrel into this without thinking,” she snapped. “It could be dangerous. If the Book of Everafter really does have every fairy tale ever told, then it’s filled with some really nasty monsters and murderers.”
“So we’ll kick butt and take names like we always do,” the little girl said matter-of-factly before opening the door again. The old lady and her friends were waiting, looking confused.
“Welcome—” the woman started hopefully, only to have Sabrina slam the door in her face again.
“This isn’t the real world, Daphne. This book has its own rules. Like that dress you’re wearing—you didn’t have that on when we jumped into these pages. Where did it come from?”
Daphne looked down at the yellow dress. “Why did it change my clothes and leave you alone?”
Sabrina was still wearing her jeans and sweater. “It’s weird.”
“Well, big sister, Granny Relda says the only way to solve a mystery is to jump right in.” She reached for the door again.
Sabrina groaned. “Fine! But stay close. And just so you know, I have no problem serving up a plate of knuckle sandwiches to these weirdoes!”
“Be nice,” Daphne insisted, opening the door once more.
“Welcome!” the old lady said quickly, bracing herself for the door.
“Hi!” Daphne said.
The crowd of Munchkins in the square gaped in wonder and let out a collective “Oooohhhhhhhh!”
The woman bowed deeply. “You are welcome, most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins. We are so grateful to you for—”
“No problem,” Sabrina interrupted, rolling her eyes at Daphne. “So, we’re looking for a man traveling with a little boy. Has anyone seen them?”
The Munchkins seemed startled by her response.
“You are welcome, most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins. We are so grateful to you for having killed the Wicked Witch of the East and for setting our people free from bondage,” the old woman recited again.
“I told you, they’re nuts!” Sabrina growled.
“Wait a minute! We killed who?” Daphne shouted. She pushed through the crowd, grabbing Sabrina’s hand and dragging her along. The duo found a pair of feet wearing silver shoes sticking out from under the farmhouse.
“Oh no!” Sabrina cried.
“Someone call nine-one-one!” Daphne shouted. She knelt next to the feet. “Lady? Are you OK? I’m sorry we dropped a house on you.”
One of the tiny men stepped forward. “Child, that’s not the line. Are you attempting to alter the story?”
Sabrina and Daphne shared a confused glance. “Huh??
??
The woman leaned in close and whispered, “That’s not what you are supposed to say. You have to ask me if I’m a Munchkin.”
Sabrina scowled and clenched her fists. “Can we save the stupid games for later? There’s a woman trapped under this house, and—”
“Wait!” Daphne interrupted. “Are you telling us we have to say the lines from the story? Why?”
One of the men stepped forward and whispered, “If you don’t, you’ll attract the Editor.”
“And the Editor is bad?” Daphne whispered back.
The man nodded. “Very bad.”
“OK, we’ll try. Are you a Munchkin?” Daphne asked.
The woman sighed with great relief. “No, but I am their friend. When they saw the Wicked Witch of the East was dead, the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at once. I am the Witch of the North.”
“Wrong! Glinda is the Witch of the North,” Sabrina sneered.
Daphne shook her head. “That’s in the movie. Glinda’s the Witch of the South. Haven’t you read the book?”
“I only skimmed it,” Sabrina admitted.
Another of the little men chimed in quietly. “No, you’re supposed to say, ‘Oh, gracious! Are you a real witch?’”
Sabrina stamped her foot and fumed. “Just let me punch one of them,” she begged her sister. “It will be a lesson for the others.”
“Silence your animal, Dorothy!” another Munchkin snapped at Daphne. “She’s going to get us all into trouble.”
“Did you just call me an animal?” Sabrina growled.
“Dorothy?” Daphne said. “You think I’m Dorothy?”
The Munchkin nodded. “You were assigned the role when you entered the tale, and you must play along. Or, there will be grave consequences for us all!”
Daphne beamed. “I’m Dorothy! That explains the dress.”
“Dorothy’s dress is blue,” Sabrina argued.
“Nope, that’s the movie,” Daphne said.
“Whatever. If you’re Dorothy, then who did the book turn me into?” Sabrina asked, looking down at herself for some clue.
Daphne snickered and pointed to Sabrina’s neck. “You’re not going to like the answer.”