Granny flashed her an angry look. The old woman still had not said anything directly to her since their spat the day before.
The group went through as many books as the afternoon would allow, but Sabrina’s heart was not in the research. The memory of Canis in the courtroom kept popping into her head. His rage-filled eyes and horrible roar made her shudder. Was there anything human left in her grandmother’s friend, and if so, how long could it hold out against the monster? Even more unsettling was her family’s lack of worry. What if the Wolf were to escape his chains in court, or overpower Nottingham and bust out of jail? Would he come back to Granny’s house? What would the Grimms do if he showed up at their front door? What would they do if he lost his temper with them? It seemed as if she was the only one considering the dark possibilities.
While everyone was searching through the books, she managed to catch Boarman and Swineheart in the kitchen, rummaging in the refrigerator for more sandwiches. She carefully closed the kitchen door behind her, making double sure that no one was listening, and then turned to the men.
“Mr. Hamstead is alive,” she said.
“We know,” Swineheart said. “He wrote us a letter. You know the next time you folks leave town and want to bring along an Everafter, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Sorry,” Sabrina said. “It was a last-minute thing. He also gave us the key.”
The men shared a nervous look.
“He didn’t tell us that,” Boarman said. “Has your grandmother retrieved the weapon yet?”
Sabrina shook her head. “No, he gave the key to Daphne and me. He told us not to go get the weapon until we absolutely have to, but the way Mr. Canis is looking, I’d say it’s high time. Mr. Hamstead said you two could teach us how to use it.”
“What’s to know?” Boarman said. “It’s pretty self-explanatory. Just don’t point it at anything you don’t mean to destroy.”
Swineheart chuckled. “You remember when Ernest aimed it at his new car? I heard they found it in the next county.”
The pigs burst into laughter, both turning bright red before they got themselves under control.
“We shouldn’t laugh,” Boarman said. “His insurance premiums went through the roof. Still, we had to try it out before we used it on ol’ furball’s behind.”
“You three were the only ones to beat the Wolf, right? Mr. Hamstead told us a little and I’ve heard others mention it before, but I’ve never heard exactly what happened,” Sabrina asked.
Swineheart sighed. “Well, back before you were born the Wolf marched through this town terrorizing people, and no one could stop him. Not even your Grandpa Basil could control him, and Basil was one of the smartest and toughest human beings I ever met. Naturally, a furry lunatic running around blowing people’s houses down is the responsibility of the police department, but there was little we could do. We organized a posse from time to time, got people together to search for his den. I even had a witch fly me over the forest, hoping I would spot him from the air. All of it was a major waste of time. He was too smart and fast, and sadly, the savagery continued.”
“This drove Mayor Charming crazy,” Boarman added. “He said we looked foolish, and worse, we wasted taxpayer money. He always thought he was the answer to everyone’s problems so he went out looking himself. When we found him a week later, he was hanging upside down from a tree. The Wolf had tied him up with his own rope. Charming was humiliated.”
“That explains why Charming and Canis never liked each other,” Sabrina said.
Boarman nodded. “When we cut him down, Charming gave us a mandate: Stop the Wolf or stop coming to work. So we put our heads together. We tried to trap him, shoot him with tranquilizer darts, even poison him, but he was always a step ahead of us. Then it dawned on me that the Wolf wasn’t playing fair. Sure, he was a tough hombre on his own but he was using this magic weapon, too. It made him unstoppable. The second you got close to him, he’d turn it on you and bam! Game over! So, it seemed obvious to me that we had to get it away from him first.”
“Obvious to you, huh?” Swineheart said.
“Fine! We all came up with this idea,” Boarman surrendered. “The point is we had to get it away from him, and to do that we had to trick him. We spread the word that Old McDonald was concerned about how big his flock of sheep had gotten. We knew the stories of the Wolf and how much he enjoyed eating sheep, so we sat in the barn and waited for him. It wasn’t long before he showed up.”
“Unfortunately, we were dressed as sheep.”
“I was going to leave out the embarrassing parts of the story,” Boarman groaned.
“Don’t candycoat it,” Swineheart said. “It all turned out OK. Suffice it to say, the Wolf never saw us coming. When he stormed into the barn I hit him with a pickup truck.”