Sabrina could easily read between the lines. Baba Yaga's guardians were dead. Their bones were probably part of the fence outside.
Puck, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to the conversation. He was busy snooping around the room, opening cabinets and peeking into drawers as if he owned the place. "This book looks like it's made out of human skin!" he exclaimed when he picked up a discarded tome off the floor. The cover looked like leather, but had hair growing out of it. "It is!" Baba Yaga cackled.
Puck looked like he wanted to hug the old hag. "This place is like my Disneyland."
"Uh, hello?" Sabrina said. "What happened to the hellfire?"
Puck scowled and put the book back on the floor.
"Old Mother, tell us what you know about your missing wand," Granny said as she took out her notebook and pen.
"It was here one moment and gone the next," the witch said, flashing Sabrina an accusing look.
"Can you show us where you kept it?" Granny said.
The crone hobbled into the next room. The floor was covered in dust and what looked like human teeth. There was an overstuffed reclining chair in the center of the room, across from a television on a rickety stand against the wall. The jawbone of a ferocious-looking animal rested on top of the TV with an old wire hanger wrapped in tinfoil sticking out of it, making a very disturbing antenna.
"I kept the wand in here," the witch said as she gestured around the room.
"OK, girls. Here's where we get to put your training into action," Granny Relda said. "Have a look around, and remember, keep an eye out for things that are out of place."
In the last two months Granny Relda had been teaching Sabrina and Daphne to see--or rather, to observe--things. She believed good detectives had to use all of their senses to get a true picture of a crime scene. Her method included sniffing for odd scents, listening for unusual sounds, and peeking into dark corners. Sabrina had her own method, though. She believed the best way to find a criminal was to think like one. All she had to do was think about what she might have done if she were trying to get away with something. When she combined her approach with her grandmother's, she discovered that she could spot things that others missed.
She scanned the room, wondering what her grandmother might mean by "out of place." Ancient wallpaper was peeling from the walls--nothing odd there. The old woman wasn't exactly Martha Stewart. The floor had an enormous stain Sabrina hoped wasn't blood. In the far corner was a table covered in vials and little glass jars filled with greenish liquid. All manner of disgusting objects floated inside them.
"Sabrina?" Daphne said. "What do you see?"
Sabrina studied the table but saw nothing unusual, if you considered a pile of dead chameleons normal. Still, Granny had taught her to be thorough, so she took a peek under the table. There she spotted a small hole in the baseboard. Daphne joined her and pointed out that there were little greasy paw tracks in the dust around the hole. The witch had mice.
"When did you notice the wand was missing?" Granny asked.
"Late last night," the witch said. "Was anything else taken?"
"No. Do you know who did it yet?"
"We just got here," Granny said.
The witch scowled. "Tomorrow I will take matters into my own hands, Relda Grimm."
"Old Mother, please," Granny pleaded. "You have to give us some time."
"You heard me. Tomorrow!"
Chapter 3
When the family returned home, Granny sent the children to wash up while she prepared one of her signature dishes--corn flakes in avocado sauce. The old woman was under the impression that the odd recipes she had collected on her adventures around the world were enjoyed by her whole family, but the old woman was very, very wrong. Sabrina couldn't stand her grandmother's cooking. Day after day she had suffered through tulip root soup, Chinese beetle bread, crocodile steaks, creamed bacon with butterscotch nuggets, horseradish-flavored oatmeal, and Limburger pancakes. She might have been able to change the menu if she wasn't surrounded by people who would eat anything. Daphne scarfed down whatever was put in front of her, even dishes that Elvis would turn up his huge snout at, and Elvis wasn't exactly a
New York Times food critic.
Puck rarely looked at the food he shoved in his mouth, and that afternoon was no different. He kept Granny rushing back to the kitchen to refill his plate. He even tried to steal a couple of rolls from Daphne, but the little girl used her fork to defend them.
"Puck! What is wrong with you?" Granny asked, exhausted.
"I'm starving!" the boy fairy said as he shoved a celery stalk into his mouth. "I could eat a horse and that's not a joke. I should know. I've eaten a horse!"
Daphne let out a little whimper. She had a fondness for ponies.
"Arthenus the World-Smasher bet me I couldn't do it," Puck said between bites. "That rat still owes me a million dollars. He tried to welch when I wouldn't eat the saddle. The saddle is not technically part of the horse, is it?"
Everyone stared at the boy.