The Everafter War (12 page)

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Authors: Michael Buckley

Tags: #Children's Lit

BOOK: The Everafter War
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The girls left Red Riding Hood in her hiding place and followed Uncle Jake to Prince Charming’s cabin. It was empty except for the two magic mirrors. Once inside, he lit one of the oil lamps. “Briar Rose didn’t come in with any of the refugees. We’re taking the flying carpet to find her. Daphne, you can steer it better than me even when I’m a hundred percent. Sabrina, I need your help, too. My arm feels like a dead limb. You can keep me from falling off the carpet.”

“It’s dangerous out there,” Sabrina said.

“Which is exactly why I need to find Briar. Something’s wrong. She and the fairy godmothers would have come here already, especially if the town is as bad as everyone is saying.”

“Maybe they’re leaving her alone,” Sabrina said.

“The Scarlet Hand? Leaving my girlfriend alone? Not likely, ’Brina. Listen, I know there could be trouble so if you or your sister want to bail I’ll understand. I’ll find a way to manage.”

“I’m in,” Daphne said.

Sabrina weighed the options. On the one hand she knew that letting Daphne go by herself would win her points with her sister. Daphne would see this as a vote of confidence. On the other hand, if she didn’t go, Daphne and her wounded uncle would be flying into a war zone all by themselves. If something happened to them she’d never forgive herself. It was decided. Daphne’s forgiveness would have to wait—again.

“Let’s do it,” Sabrina said.

They crept through the Hall of Wonders and to the back door that led to the Room of Reflections. Once there they asked Mirror to retrieve the magic carpet for them, then they tiptoed back the way they came and into the fort. Guards were milling about but gave them no trouble, though they became alarmed when Uncle Jake unrolled the carpet and climbed aboard.

“Charming has ordered that no one leave the camp,” a guard pleaded.

“Charming isn’t the boss of us,” Daphne said then turned her attention to the rug. “Up!”

The elegant Persian rug rose into the air, its tassels rippling with the evening breeze. Sabrina couldn’t help admiring the intricate weaving of the carpet, and focusing on it prevented her from getting vertigo as they were suddenly propelled skyward. When the rug had cleared the high walls of the fort, Daphne instructed it to take them to Briar’s coffee shop, Sacred Grounds. In their previous experiences with Aladdin’s rug, they had learned that it seemed to know where everything was and the best way to get there. At Daphne’s instruction, the rug jolted forward, nearly knocking Sabrina over the edge. Her uncle grabbed her hand just in time.

“You’re supposed to make sure
I
don’t fall off,” he reminded her.

“Sorry,” she said. “This thing really needs seat belts.”

“It’s easier if you sit down,” Daphne explained over the wind. Jake and Sabrina took her advice and found she was right. The more relaxed they were the better the ride became.

Still, it was hard not to be nervous. The quarter moon did little to illuminate the forest below, so sailing above it was like drifting over a black abyss. Sabrina watched the treetops nervously. The refugees’ stories of the Scarlet Hand’s army had made her paranoid, and she feared what might rocket out of the darkness below. She imagined the hideous roar of a Jabberwocky as its tiny wings lifted it up to devour them in midair. If there was any comfort in the trip, it was that it became clear to Sabrina that Prince Charming’s camp was hidden deep in the woods, and it would be very difficult for the enemy to find.

Uncle Jake seemed to read her mind. “You forget that sometimes under all his arrogance the prince is brilliant. I doubt that those hobgoblins could ever find the place. Still, the refugees should be getting ready just in case.”

“You think they should fight back?” Daphne said.

“Absolutely. Will they win? That’s another question entirely. They’re completely outnumbered, and even if they did manage to raise an army it would consist of elderly witches and princesses who have spent most of their lives being waited on hand and foot. There’s only a few of them that have any wits about them at all.”

Sabrina knew her uncle was referring to his girlfriend, Briar Rose. She was a lovely woman and the basis for the famous story of Sleeping Beauty, but unlike a lot of the royalty Sabrina had met, Briar was a resourceful woman. Sabrina had come to think of her, Snow White, and Granny Relda as role models. She set her hand on her uncle’s good shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

“I hope.”

“We will,” Daphne said, steering the rug westward. “We’re Grimms. This is what we do.”

“So, perhaps we should discuss our cover story for your father,” Jake said.

The girls looked at one another nervously.

“You want us to lie to Dad?” Sabrina asked.

“No! Of course not,” their uncle said, then thought for a moment. “Actually, yes. I want all of us to lie to your father. He’s being a bit of a jerk.”

“You noticed that, too?” Daphne said.

“Hank was always the high-strung one. He can be very stubborn, too, but your dad is only trying to protect you both. He’s not exactly polite about it but it’s the only way he knows to keep everyone alive. He gets that from your grandfather. I’m more like Mom in a lot of ways—impulsive—”

“NO! You?” Sabrina said with a grin.

Uncle Jake laughed. “Guilty as charged.”

“I’ve never seen Dad like this, ever,” Daphne said.

“She’s right. Mom and Dad have always been laid-back. Ever since they woke up it’s been nonstop bickering, with us and each other. If I didn’t know better I would think we woke up the wrong people.” Sabrina sighed.

“Not the happily ever after you were hoping for, huh?” Uncle Jake said. “Girls, I’m sorry. I think in all the excitement I’ve forgotten how important waking them up was to you and then to have them snapping at everyone—I wish it had been different.”

“We’re coming up on the farms,” Daphne said as she pointed directly in front of them.

Sabrina expected to see long plains of corn and wheat, neatly planted in rows—maybe a silo here and there, the occasional cow mooing at the moon, but what they drifted over was unrecognizable. Much of the farmland was in ruins. The little houses that freckled the fields were ablaze.

“The Scarlet Hand has been here,” Uncle Jake said gravely.

“But these are Everafter farms,” Daphne said. “Why burn them when there are human farms not far away?”

“These fires are about sending a message to the rest of the Everafters: Anyone who doesn’t join the Hand will regret it,” Uncle Jake said. His jaw stiffened and it was obvious to Sabrina that he was now doubly worried about his girlfriend. She was an Everafter, and thus difficult to kill, but, as Sabrina had witnessed, it wasn’t impossible—especially if the killer was an Everafter, too. Had the Hand gotten to her?

Once again, Uncle Jake seemed to be listening in on her thoughts. “Can you make this thing go faster?” he said.

Daphne nodded and spoke a few words to the carpet. It accelerated and the ground below whipped by. Uncle Jake nearly fell off the side but Sabrina did her job and kept him upright. In no time the group left the farms of Ferryport Landing and darted into the town proper.

Daphne slowed the carpet and lowered it so that they hovered only a few feet above the ground. They floated down Main Street, absorbing the shocking scene before them. Stores were gutted with fire, their contents coughed onto the street and smoldering into ash. Old King Cole’s Restaurant was not much more than a shell, as was the Blue Plate Special diner. Cars lay on their backs like hunters’ trophies. Bicycles were scattered about the street, bent beyond repair. The town’s one and only traffic light had snapped off its wire. It lay shattered on the road.

“Get this thing to the coffee shop, now!” Uncle Jake blurted out.

The rug seemed to understand and didn’t wait for Daphne’s command. It zipped down the street toward the bank of the river where the little shop was located, but when they arrived all of Sabrina’s worst fears were realized. Sacred Grounds was destroyed. The windows were black with soot. The roof had collapsed. All that remained was the sign that once hung over the door, and it had fallen to the ground. A red handprint covered the name.

Uncle Jake leaped off the rug before it came to a full stop. He rushed to the shop and threw the door open. A blast of still-smoldering fire exploded out and Uncle Jake fell backward. The girls rushed to his side and helped him to his feet. His face was red from the heat, and it was clear the fall had jarred his shoulder. He could barely stand.

“You can’t go in there,” Sabrina said.

“I have to,” he cried.

“Looking for your sweetheart, Jacob?” a voice called out from behind them. The trio spun around to find Sheriff Nottingham glowering beneath a dead streetlight. The flames from the open door illuminated his face, exaggerating his already disgusting scar and causing the red handprint on his chest to cast an eerie glow.

“Where is she, Nottingham?” Jake said, his fists clenched.

“She’s dead … or she soon will be,” the sheriff said, his white teeth flashing in the flames.

Jake charged the sheriff. Before the villain could pull his weapon Jake swung widely, and his fist slammed into Nottingham’s cheek. The sheriff collapsed to the ground. Bewildered, he grasped for his dagger, aiming it upward at the girls’ uncle.

Jake didn’t give Nottingham a chance to strike. His hands were in his coat pockets before Sabrina could clearly see what was happening. In a flash Nottingham was enclosed in a perfect green bubble. When Jake lifted his hand the bubble and its prisoner lifted as well. Nottingham kicked and fought like an angry marionette, but he was completely helpless.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake, Grimm,” the sheriff shrieked.

“The mistake is yours, Nottingham. You think that I am good-natured like my mother, or tough but fair like my father, God rest his soul. But you and the rest of your thugs are wrong.”

“Is that so? Then what are you, Jacob?” Nottingham sneered.

“A man who will kill to protect the people he loves.”

Nottingham’s face grew pale.

“Where is she?” Jake continued.

Nottingham shook his head.

Jake swung his arm around and the bubble followed. He whipped it into an abandoned building. Nottingham slammed into the wall and let out a pained groan. Uncle Jake swung the bubble at a building across the street, with similar results. Then he returned Nottingham to the center of the street. The sheriff’s nose was covered in blood.

“The mayor and several others have surrounded her home,” he groaned. “Her fairy godmothers are fighting them off, but they can’t last forever.”

A long ropelike stream appeared at the top of the bubble. It wrapped itself around a streetlight, where the sheriff hung like an evil Christmas ornament.

“I’m going to her, Nottingham,” Uncle Jake said. “If she is harmed I’ll be back for you. Think about what I’ve said. I’m not like the rest of my family.”

Nottingham sneered and wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve.

Uncle Jake stepped onto the flying carpet. The girls joined him and Daphne commanded the rug into the air. A second later they were gone, but not out of trouble. Once they were in the air, Uncle Jake collapsed. Sweat poured down his forehead and he looked ashen.

“What’s wrong?” Daphne asked, trying to steer the rug and attend to her uncle at the same time.

“It’s nothing. Just remind me to punch people with my good arm,” he said weakly, then passed out.

“What do we do now?” Daphne said.

“The sensible thing to do is to go back to the fort and get Uncle Jake back into his cot, but—”

“But?”

“But if Nottingham was telling the truth then Briar is in serious danger. She needs help. But we’re just a couple of kids, Daphne. Can we stop an entire mob by ourselves?”

Daphne reached into various pockets in Uncle Jake’s jacket and pulled out handfuls of rings, amulets, and wands. “We’re a couple of kids with a whole lot of magic stuff.”

“Do you know how to use any of those?” Sabrina asked.

Daphne shook her head. “How hard could it be?”

The little girl’s eyes were filled with confidence, and perhaps some of her bravery rubbed off on Sabrina, or maybe she just realized her little sister could accomplish anything she put her mind to. While her father had been treating Daphne like a baby, her skills and talents had become clearer to Sabrina. Maybe it was time to trust her.

“It’s your call, then.”

Daphne looked stunned. “Really?”

Sabrina nodded. “I have more faith in you than anyone I know, Daphne.”

Daphne smiled but it was brief. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“Carpet, take us to Briar Rose’s house, and step on it.”

The carpet made a sudden turn and they were off. Daphne gave it instructions while Sabrina attended to her uncle. He looked pale and small in the night sky. His blond hair fluttered about his sallow face. Sneaking out to save Briar had not been a good idea, but the family, as a whole, wasn’t known for its good ideas. They were all impulsive, Sabrina concluded. Odd that she would start to see how they were all connected at such a time. Why had she never noticed it before?

The carpet flew along an old country road, narrowly dodging a speeding pickup truck that was fleeing a vehicle filled with well-armed trolls hanging out of the windows. Sabrina was about to tell Daphne they needed to help the poor pickup driver but the trolls took a turn too fast and drove into a ravine.

They came up over a rise in the road, and Daphne brought the carpet to a slow crawl. Briar’s house was a sturdy Victorian with a round column on each side of the door and a rose window in the center. It was painted sea green and stood out from all the other homes in the neighborhood. Sabrina had been there once with Jake and she had noticed the attention and care Briar had given the numerous rosebushes that surrounded her home. They were still quite a distance from the house but she could see those bushes had been trampled by the horde of Everafters surrounding the house. The mob was made up of goblins, witches, knights, and a near-giant—a man nearly twenty feet tall with an ax to match. He wore a flannel shirt and had a big, bushy red beard that matched the handprint on his enormous chest.

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