Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Humorous stories,
Family,
Juvenile Fiction,
Magic,
Fantasy & Magic,
Detective and Mystery Stories,
Brothers and sisters,
Children's stories,
Siblings,
Mysteries & Detective Stories,
Mystery and detective stories,
Children's Lit,
Sisters,
Legends; Myths; Fables,
Books & Libraries,
Books and reading,
Characters in Literature,
Characters and Characteristics in Literature
foolproof. Certain deleted elements struggle to make it back into her story. The slightest change could cause the whole tale to fall apart. Who knows what could happen in the real world.”
“We’re not interested in your offer,” Sabrina said. “While we’re hunting down that little traitor, Mirror might get to his story—and if what you’re saying is true, he can make whatever changes he likes in his story and there’s nothing the revisers can do. We can’t risk missing our chance to stop him.”
“Don’t be so hasty, sugar bear,” Puck said with a devilish grin. “He wants to hire us. We could use that money for the wedding. Ice sculptures of minotaurs and cyclopes are not cheap! Plus, don’t forget about the poison ivy for your bouquet.”
Sabrina scowled.
“I can assure you Mirror will never reach his story,” the Editor said. “His particular story is off-limits, bound by powerful magics few could break. He will never attain whatever goal he has, thus you three have all the time in the world to find the puppet for me. Afterward, I will take you to Mirror and help retrieve your brother.”
Daphne said. “Is Mirror’s story the one that’s falling apart? Is that the story the Everafter altered to change her history?”
“That is none of your concern. Do we have a deal?”
Sabrina looked to her sister. “What do you think?”
“If what he says is true and Mirror can’t change his story, I think we can help. It would be nice to not have to worry about those things anymore,” Daphne said, pointing to one of the pink monsters hovering by the Editor’s leg.
“Children, my revisers are beautiful creatures, but they are not immensely intelligent,” the Editor said. “They will eat everything they can get their teeth into. If you see one, it would be advisable to run in the opposite direction.”
“So you can’t stop them?”
The Editor shook his head. “When an intruder makes a change, I open a door and send them through. When they get to their destination, they do things their way.”
Daphne and Puck looked to Sabrina for guidance, but she felt too paralyzed to make a decision. Having the Editor’s help with Mirror could be just what they needed to stop him, but could they trust the Editor? She used to think she could read people, but now she wasn’t so sure. What if he was leading them on a wild-goose chase?
“I’m in,” Puck said, interrupting her thoughts. “If it gives me a chance to punch Pinocchio in his stupid, pointy nose, then I’m all for it.”
Daphne nodded. “He should be easy to find, too. We know he’s eager to change his past. He wants to convince the Blue Fairy to let him grow up. We snatch the little toad before he changes the story and bring him back here. Sounds like a piece of cake.”
“And you swear you will help us stop Mirror?” Sabrina said. She eyed the strange man closely. She wanted him to see her gaze. She wanted him to feel as if she could see through him.
“You have my word,” the Editor said. “Stop Pinocchio and I will do everything in my power to help you with the magic mirror and the boy.”
The Editor waved his hand and a door appeared. With another wave, the door opened and a gust of wind blasted Sabrina’s hair into her face. The air was sweaty and pungent, like a landmark case of bad personal hygiene.
“Use the ball of yarn to move quickly through the stories,” the Editor said, handing it back to the little girl. “When you find our enemy, shout for me. I can hear you and open a door. Don’t forget his annoying marionettes, either. They are just as damaging to the Book as their master.”
“We’ll do our best,” Daphne said.
“I’m confident. One last thing. The Munchkin told you to stay inside the margins of the story, and he was correct. Don’t run about in the parts that aren’t in the tale. The margins are filled with loose memories and things that have been forgotten by history. Something lives there that
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