The Fairy-Tale Detectives Page 7

  “Can we please try to keep it down,” Bunny whispered to Sabrina. “I don’t like this idea any better than you do, but we don’t need to whine quite so loudly. There are other things in these woods to be afraid of—like the Scarlet Hand.”

  “Sorry,” Sabrina whispered back. “But I’m completely freaked out. I think this is a really bad idea. We can’t save the world if we’re in Baba Yaga’s belly. Why can’t we use Mordred?”

  “No boys allowed in a coven. It has to be a crone, a temptress, and an innocent. Besides, boys have cooties,” Morgan said with a giggle.

  “Is that what these things are?” Puck asked as he scratched at his armpits.

  “Fine, what about Mallobarb and Buzzflower?” Henry asked. “Briar’s fairy godmothers use a lot of magic and they’re already living in the castle.”

  “They’re fairy godmothers—not witches,” Daphne said. “Duh!”

  “Why not Ozma of Oz?” Sabrina begged. “She could be the innocent, Morgan would be the temptress, and Bunny the—”

  An angry glance from the queen cut off the end of Sabrina’s sentence.

  “So how do you plan on getting her to agree?” Sabrina said, quickly changing the subject. “She’s not exactly the joining type.”

  “We’re still working on that part of the plan,” Daphne said as she scratched behind Elvis’s ear. “Aren’t we, buddy?”

  “Please! Keep your voices down!” Bunny shouted, then closed her eyes and calmly counted to ten. “We don’t have to announce to half of Duchess County that we’re coming.”

  “Are you afraid of Baba Yaga, Bunny?” Henry asked.

  The witch rolled her eyes and laughed. “Hardly. My power nearly rivals hers.”

  “Nearly?” Sabrina asked. “‘Nearly’ is not as good as ‘totally rivals’ or ‘is better than’ or ‘spits in the face of.’”

  The queen scowled and marched to the front of the group. Following her directions, they trudged deeper into the darkest and loneliest part of the Hudson Valley forest. Signs of life became more and more scarce, which meant they were walking in the right direction.

  The trees were black and bare and looked more like shadows than living things. The grass grew in thin, gray clumps. The path was knotted with ugly vines, thick as chains, and covered with thorns that jabbed at ankles. Sabrina started to feel that throbbing, woozy sensation she got when she was around magic. She told herself to be strong and pressed onward.

  Following a bend in the path, they came upon the old witch’s home. It was a ramshackle hut with a sagging roof covered in abandoned birds’ nests. The two small windows and the single black door looked suspiciously like a face scanning for intruders. As if in mockery of a normal home, the hut also had a white fence, but instead of pickets, it was constructed from bones—mostly those of large animals, but more than a few looked human. A walkway of bleached skulls led to the front door.

  With a grimace, Daphne unhooked the fence latch and swung the bone gate aside. The family followed her into the yard.

  “Who’s going to knock?” she asked.

  “It’s your coven. You knock,” Sabrina said.

  Daphne cringed. “I’m scared.”

  Puck rolled his eyes. “I’ll handle this.”

  “No,” Henry said, stepping forward. “I’ve dealt with her a few times. The secret is to be respectful.”

  “Yes, remember to say please and thank you when she’s chewing on your face,” Sabrina muttered.

  Henry raised his hand to knock on the door but quickly pulled his hand away.

  “It burned me,” he said, looking down at his knuckles. Sabrina could see the painful blisters forming on his hand. Henry searched the ground for something to use as a knocker, but the only thing available was a loose skull from the path. He yanked it out of the soil and clunked it against the door. Moments later, it swung open, but there was no one in the doorway.

  Puck chuckled. “I hope everyone brought a change of undies, ’cause I think this is just going to get spookier and spookier.”

  Henry peered into the house and waved the group forward.

  The witch’s home was just as unsettling as it was the last time Sabrina had visited. Rusty cages big enough to imprison a child were stacked in a corner. Pots of strange, bubbling potions and jars filled with animals, some still living, crowded the floor, along with a bent tray scattered with what looked like fingernails. On the far wall a fireplace raged with an angry flame that flickered to reveal the suffering faces of shattered souls begging for release. A thick book with a cover made from what appeared to be human skin rested on a table. Sabrina wasn’t sure if it was all the magic in the room or the fear racing through her veins, but it looked like the book’s cover rose and fell as if it were breathing.

  “Old Mother!” the Wicked Queen shouted. “We respectfully request an audience.”

  The flames in the fireplace roared as if fed by gasoline and Daphne leaped into her father’s arms.

  “Old Mother, this is Bunny Lancaster. I wish to speak with you.”

  “Maybe she’s gone. We should come back,” Morgan said, heading for the door.

  “She’s here,” Bunny said, scanning the room.

  “Perhaps she is shy,” Puck said as he swaggered around the room. “I can be very intimidating to some people.”

  Henry cringed. “Don’t taunt her, Puck.”

  “You guys have got yourselves worked up over nothing. I mean, really—”

  And then, quite suddenly, a figure stepped out of a shadow behind Puck. Baba Yaga had long gray hair that hung on her head like a rotting mop. Her one good eye spun in its socket and her nose was as pointy as a steak knife. Puck screamed like a little girl. Sabrina would have spent months ridiculing him if she hadn’t done the exact same thing.

  Baba Yaga squinted as she examined each member of the group. When she got to Sabrina, she leaned in close. The air temperature dropped at an alarming rate. Sabrina’s teeth chattered and frosty breath escaped her lips.

  “The last time I saw you, I told you I’d make a coat of your skin. You are either insane or have the courage of a lion,” the old crone said to her.

  “Hello, Old Mother. I’m sorry if my girls have been a trouble to you,” Henry said. “My mother had her hands full while—”

  “I know where you were, Henry Grimm!” Baba Yaga replied. “There is little that happens in this town that I am not aware of.”

  Baba Yaga crossed the room to a table. She picked up an apron with the words VERMONT IS FOR LOVERS and slipped it over her filthy smock. Then she snatched a knife from the table with one hand and fished a frog out of a jar with another. Sabrina was grateful that the woman’s back blocked her view of what came next.

  “Then you know why we’re here,” Bunny said, seemingly unfazed.

  Baba Yaga opened a small tin, smelled its contents, then threw it on the floor. She peered into a jewelry box filled with spitting centipedes, fished out a fat one, and then ate it. “I do.”

  “The fate of the world is at hand,” Morgan said.

  “Oh, sweet girl, the world isn’t in any danger. It’s the people who live on it that are going bye-bye.”

  “Not if you help us,” Daphne said.

  Baba Yaga cackled and spittle covered her hairy chin. In her amusement she kicked a can of something into the fireplace and it exploded. “Take yourselves and leave while I’m still feeling inclined to let you.”

  “Old Mother, you must reconsider!” Bunny cried.

  Baba Yaga turned and soared across the room with lightning speed until she was within an inch of the Wicked Queen’s nose. “You should respect your elders, poison maker. What do I care of this world? The Old Mother will live on. Probably with far fewer interruptions.”

  The queen stood her ground. “This isn’t a request.”

  Baba Yaga chuckled.

  “You dare laugh at me?” the queen cried, her voice like thunder. She stretched out her hand. Resting on her palm was a spinning ball of
light and energy.

  Baba Yaga had only a moment to register the light before it blasted her across the room and into one of her tables. She lay sprawled on the floor, seemingly dead, before an ancient and unintelligible chant came from her mouth. When it was complete, hundreds of pointy legs erupted from her body. She flipped over and scurried along the floor like a centipede, eventually scuttling up the wall and onto the ceiling, where she swung from a filthy chandelier.

  From there, she leaped onto Bunny’s back and the two fell to the floor. The attack sent pots of bizarre potions splattering all over the room. Several monkeys locked in a cage in the far corner shrieked and pounded on the bars of their prison. There was a crash and the floor was immediately covered with creepy-crawlies by the thousands.

  “You cannot turn your backs on the rest of us,” Bunny shouted. “Billions will die.”

  “A dog feels no sorrow when his fleas are extinguished!”

  “Stop fighting!” Daphne cried.

  Bunny shouted an incantation and Baba Yaga went flying across the room again. In return, the old crone waved her hands in the air and her body transformed into twenty flying daggers that sped toward the Wicked Queen with deadly accuracy. Bunny cast a spell and a glowing red shield appeared, knocking the daggers to the ground. They melted into a thick pool, from which Baba Yaga rose.

  The old crone reached into the folds of her raggedy dress and brought something out. She held it to her mouth and blew. Hundreds of hairy spiders leaped from the device onto Bunny, burrowing under her skin. She screamed in agony.

  Before anyone could stop her, Daphne pushed between the dueling witches. “Cut it out!”

  Baba Yaga sneered at the girl but took a step back. “I have no appetite for this fight. Gather yourselves and go.”

  “No!” Daphne cried. “Sounds to me like you’re afraid.”

  Baba Yaga’s head turned toward the little girl so quickly Sabrina heard the bones rattle inside the witch’s neck. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. You’re a coward,” Daphne said, standing her ground. “You’re terrified of going up against Mirror, but you’re hiding it under your usual grouchiness. I’m not fooled.”

  “Daphne, shut up,” Morgan pleaded.

  “I will kill you and suck on your bones, little one,” the witch raged. “I’ve made soup from children like you who were far less lippy.”

  Daphne cringed. “Fine. You’re going to eat me. That doesn’t mean you’re not a lousy witch. You like to hide in this creepy house, but how scary could you be if my sister and I keep coming back here? You’ve lost your touch, Old Mama.”

  “Daphne, shut up!” Henry cried.

  “It’s Old Mother,” Baba Yaga seethed.

  “Whatever! Maybe I made a mistake thinking you were the most powerful witch in town. I guess I’ll have to go find Ozma of Oz.”

  Baba Yaga’s anger was so intense her ratty hair stood on end. “Ozma of Oz? That child doesn’t have a fraction of my power!”

  “Maybe, but she’s beating you in bravery,” Daphne shouted back.

  There was a long, awkward pause and then Baba Yaga started a new chant. The floor beneath their feet began to shake and rock. The walls drew inward as if the group were trapped inside a deflating balloon, and a moldy chandelier crashed to the floor mere inches from where Bunny was picking bugs out of her skin. Sabrina clenched her fist, preparing for a fight, when her father yanked her and Daphne by the arm.

  “OK! Everyone outside,” Henry cried. Unfortunately, the door was closed tight, and no matter how hard Sabrina pulled, it wouldn’t budge. Henry took a turn but got the same result.

  “Step aside,” Morgan said. Her eyes glowed red and an invisible force as powerful as a hurricane hit the door. It flew off its hinges and sailed into the woods.

  Once free, the group, led by Elvis, spilled out through the opening, only to be stopped in their tracks. Standing at the gate were two figures. The first was Granny Relda, or rather, something horrible wearing her skin. Sabrina cried out, seeing her beloved grandmother under the control of such evil.

  The second person waiting for them was wearing ancient chain mail armor and heavy boots covered in spikes. His sword was immense, with a golden hilt inset with a ruby that looked like a bloodshot eye. His long hair, the color of blood, hung lifelessly down his back like a waterfall of death.

  “Atticus,” Sabrina gasped. She had first seen the evil prince inside the Book of Everafter, but out here in the real world, he was flesh and blood and, by the look in his eyes, eager to hurt someone.

  Granny was the first to speak. The voice was neither hers nor Mirror’s, but a monstrous combination of the two. “I’ve come to make you an offer.”

  “You let go of my grandmother first!” Sabrina shouted.

  “I wish I could, Starfish, but at the moment I’m sort of stuck,” Mirror said. “It’s an unfortunate consequence of the monkey wrench you threw into my plans. If you had just let me have Basil, I wouldn’t be trapped in this elderly body with all its aches and pains. But here we are. Oh, let me introduce you to my business associate, His Majesty Prince Atticus Charming.”

  The Wicked Queen stepped forward with her hand twisted into an angry claw. “YOU!!!”

  “Well, if it isn’t my mother-in-law,” Atticus said. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Not long enough,” Bunny seethed.

  “Where is my wife? With my brother, no doubt,” he said as he drew his deadly sword. “No mind. He will not keep her. Locking me away for hundreds of years has not stopped me. Nothing will stop me.”

  Both the witch and the warrior looked ready to attack, but they were interrupted by Baba Yaga, who charged through the door of her home like an angry bull. She swiveled her head from the Grimms to Mirror and his companion. “Now, what is this?”

  “Who is this withered old grape?” Atticus said.

  Mirror raised his hand for silence. “Your Majesty, it would serve you well to learn a little respect. This is Baba Yaga, a great and powerful sorceress. You should apologize.”

  Atticus laughed, but Mirror was not kidding.

  “You’re serious? OK, fine, I’m sorry, m’lady,” he said with an exaggerated bow.

  Baba Yaga was having none of it. “So another steps forward to mock the Old Mother. Enough!”

  “No! I’ll take care of this,” the Wicked Queen said. She swung her arm forward as if slashing at Atticus with an invisible sword. A tidal wave of destruction sprung from her hand. The magic leveled trees and threw earth skyward. A cloud of dust and broken stone enveloped everything as far as Sabrina could see. When the debris settled, Atticus and Mirror remained untouched and unharmed.

  The queen was shocked. “How?”

  Mirror winked. “Now, that would be telling.”

  This time Morgan unleashed her power. Blasts of lightning and plasma rained down on the two villains, but like before they remained untouched. When Morgan raised her hands for another attack, a blast of fiery flame erupted from Mirror’s fingertips. The magic slammed into Morgan, and she flew backward several yards into the wall of Baba Yaga’s hut.

  “You insult my home, little mirror. It makes me . . . angry,” Baba Yaga hissed.

  She reached into the folds of her dress and removed three slimy toads. Their slippery legs squirmed in her hands as she held them up to her mouth. “Bright Morning! Dark Night! Red Sun!”

  She dropped the animals onto the ground, and before they had a chance to hop away, they began a disturbing transformation. Their skin bubbled and their bodies stretched, legs growing several feet. With each passing second they twisted and changed unnaturally, until three full-grown men, each with the face and webbed hands of a frog, stood in front of Baba Yaga. They were dressed in tunics and armor each reflecting their names—white, black, and red—and they held flaming swords. With their super-strong legs they sprang into combat, slashing and stabbing at Atticus, whose own sword was raised in preparation.

  Mirror sighe
d as if the battle were a mild inconvenience. “Enough of this unpleasantness,” he said as if what had just occurred was nothing more than a glass of spilled milk. “We’re all friends here, and I’ve come to make you the offer of a lifetime. I will let you all keep your lives and all you have to do is lower the barrier. Old Mother, I know that it is within your power. After all, it was you and Wilhelm who created it in the first place.”

  Baba Yaga chuckled.

  “What if I said pretty please?”

  “You are a curious thing, little mirror,” Baba Yaga said as she lurched toward him. She studied Granny Relda’s face as if she could see the creature hidden beneath. Sabrina stared as well. What was it that Baba Yaga saw—some weakness? “The mirror that refuses to see that he is broken. Ah, I see. The answer is always in the eyes. Yes, I know how to beat you now. I can see your biggest weakness and how silly it is.”

  Her laughter was a combination of unnerving hacking and loud croaks, but the sound only unleashed Mirror’s rage. He let loose a blast of raw energy that swept across Baba Yaga and swallowed her whole. It was magic so strong it ripped the flesh right off of the old witch’s bones like she had stepped into raging hot fire. Within seconds her skeleton was picked clean. It fell to the ground alongside the bones of her fence and pathway.

  “NO!” Bunny cried.

  Mirror clapped his hands as if to remove the dust of hard work. “Tsk, tsk. What a shame. Now I have to spend the rest of my day searching her house for the spell.”

  But to everyone’s surprise Baba Yaga’s skeleton clambered to its feet and stood upright. Sabrina gasped. The muscle, veins, organs, and skin began to grow over the bones, slowly inching across joints and through its rib cage. In no time at all, the old witch was whole again.

  Mirror cocked a curious eyebrow. “Now that is a good trick.”