"My eyelids are sticking together," Daphne said as she rubbed her eyes.
"Go on, girls," Granny said, pointing to a path that led up a hill bordering a dark wood. "You know how this works. Walk ahead. When you hear my whistle, you'll know you've gone far enough. Then turn around and try to make it back to me. Easy as pie!"
Sabrina knew arguing was pointless, so she took her sister by the hand and started down the path. They hadn't gone more than a few yards when they heard laughter echoing through the woods.
"He knows we're here," Sabrina said.
"This is all your fault," Daphne replied. "My fault?" Sabrina cried. "How is this my fault?"
"You called him an ugly freak baby at dinner last night. Now he's out for revenge."
"It was a term of endearment."
"Well, he's going to make this extra hard on us today."
After a while, the girls heard their grandmother's whistle.
"There it is," Sabrina said. "Time to head back."
They stopped, looked around, and started back down the path. A moment later they heard more laughter and the sound of flapping wings.
"The ugly freak baby is on his way," Daphne said.
The ugly freak baby in question was named Puck. He was a four-thousand-year-old fairy who looked like an eleven-year-old boy but acted much younger. The Trickster King, as he called himself, was a master of obnoxious pranks, vulgar manners, and dirty tricks. He was also the bane of Sabrina's existence. He had taken a particular interest in humiliating her whenever possible, which was most of the time. Unfortunately, Granny Relda felt Puck was the right person to help the girls think on their feet and escape from unpredictable situations. So he had become a sort of teacher to them as they trained for their futures as full-fledged detectives. Unfortunately, his teaching strategy was somewhat disturbing, so now when they heard a loud explosion on the path next to them, they knew that school was in session.
Frightened, they darted behind an enormous snow-covered tree and peered around the trunk. Puck was nowhere in sight, but they could hear the beating of his wings over the chill wind.
"Puck booby-trapped the path," Daphne said, shivering. "We should head for the forest."
Sabrina peered at a bank of fir trees several yards off the path. They were thick and would make good cover, but Sabrina was sick of hiding. Puck always caught them in the woods. He could fly over and see where they were. It wasn't fair.
"He's expecting us to run into the woods. We do it every time."
"Hiding is good," Daphne said. "I'm a big fan of hiding."
"I bet that first explosion is the only one on the path. Why would he booby-trap the rest of it if he assumes we're going to hide in the forest?"
"Then what should we do?"
Sabrina furrowed her brow and thought, searching through her mental filing cabinet from her year and a half in foster care. Puck wasn't the only clever one in the Grimm household. Sabrina could get in and out of a house undetected, pick a few simple locks, and run like the wind before anyone knew she was gone. Puck might have called himself the Trickster King, but Sabrina had a name for herself--the Queen of the Sneaks.
"Let's just stay on the path and run real fast," Sabrina said.
Daphne's face crinkled as if she'd bitten into a sour pickle. "You want to stay in the open?"
"And run real fast," Sabrina repeated.
"What if you're wrong?" Daphne asked.
"Then Granny Relda is going to wake us up early again tomorrow," Sabrina said. "It's worth a shot."
Daphne peeked around the corner, then turned back to her sister. "I don't know about--"
But Sabrina didn't give her sister time to think about the plan. She snatched her by the hand and dragged her back to the path, which led down a slight hill lined with pricker bushes. Each icy thorn sparkled like jagged glass, so they went slowly and paid attention to their steps. Sabrina's plan seemed to be working. They hadn't set off another booby trap. Could they have actually out-tricked the Trickster King?
Soon they came across a chunk of ice as big as a car. They stopped to catch their breaths and hid behind it with their backs pressed against its chilly surface. Sabrina took the opportunity to make sure the little wooden sword was still in her pocket.
"I think we did it," Daphne said, peeking around the boulder. "You're mucho smart-o."
"Mucho smart-o?"
"It's my new word," Daphne said. "It means you're very smart."
"In what language?"
"Daphne-ish," the little girl said matter-of-factly. Sabrina's sister was always coming up with odd little words or sayings. No one had any idea where any of them came from, but Daphne seemed to have a new one each week.
"You're really good at thinking on your feet. I wish I was better at it," the little girl continued.
"Well, you're very good at the magic stuff. I wish I could use a wand," Sabrina said ruefully. "I guess I'll do what I'm good at, and you'll do what you're good at."
"We make a pretty good team," Daphne said, hugging her sister.