“Snow, I—”
Snow giggled. “I’m just teasing, Casanova.”
“Harrumph!” Charming said, though he did flash a hint of a smile. The prince and Snow White had a long, complicated relationship. Hundreds of years ago she left him at the altar. In the centuries since, he married Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, and Rapunzel. None of those marriages had worked out, and Sabrina suspected the reason was Snow. Even after countless centuries, William Charming could not get her out of his system.
“Come to join the army?” Snow asked the Grimms.
“No,” Henry said. “We’re here to see Jacob.”
Snow White’s smile disappeared. “Oh. Henry, maybe you want to leave the girls here with me.”
Henry looked to Veronica. “Maybe—”
Sabrina interrupted. “Sure, Dad. That is, if you can trust us out of your sight.”
“We do have a tendency to get into shenanigans,” Daphne said.
Henry frowned. “No, they’ll stay with me.”
Daphne shared a knowing wink with Sabrina.
As they continued their walk along the perimeter of the fortress, the group came across Gepetto, who, despite his advanced age, was splitting firewood with an ax. Pinocchio watched him for several moments, silently, as if preparing for a big speech. Finally, he sputtered out, “Papa?” like a little boy. Sabrina realized immediately it wasn’t a speech Pinocchio was readying—it was a performance.
“Pinocchio!” Gepetto dropped a handful of wood and rushed to the little boy. He scooped him up in his arms and showered him with kisses. “My son! My son!”
Pinocchio hugged the old man and forced a few tears. “Oh, Papa! I thought . . . Oh, it’s too terrible to say.”
Sabrina and Daphne looked at each other in bewilderment.
“And the Oscar goes to . . . ,” Sabrina said.
“Papa, you have no idea how bad things have been for me,” Pinocchio cried. “These horrible people expect me to sleep on the floor and they are incredibly rude! We’re living on rice and—”
“I know what you did, son,” Gepetto said.
Suddenly, the crocodile tears dried from Pinocchio’s face. “Then—then—you have to hear my side of the story,” he stammered.
“Your side of the story is that you betrayed a family I consider amongst my dearest friends. You helped to loot and destroy their home, leaving them with nothing. You conspired with their mortal enemy—my mortal enemy. You helped a . . . a monster who tried to steal the body of a little boy and when that failed took Relda Grimm for his puppet. You remember what it was like to be controlled by a master, and yet you allowed it to happen to someone else!”
“Mirror promised to turn me into a man.”
“A man! What makes you think you are ready to be a man? Do you think playing chess and reading big books without pictures makes you a man? It takes more than the interests of an adult to make you one. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Blue Fairy’s spell keeps you as a child until you are ready to grow up. Is that something you’ve ever considered? Perhaps you are too immature!”
“Papa, please,” Pinocchio cried. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly. I have failed you as a father, but that is going to change as of this moment. You are going to become a good person. I’m going to make sure of it or I will speak to the Blue Fairy myself and have her turn you back into a puppet!”
“I was a marrion—”
“Your first lesson is to shut your mouth when your father is speaking to you!” Gepetto roared.
“Why, you act like you don’t love me anymore, Father.” Pinocchio whimpered.
“Oh, I love you, son, more than I can ever say. But right now, I don’t like you very much.” He picked up the ax and placed it into his son’s soft hands.
“What’s this for?”
“Chopping wood, of course. You’re the one who wants to be a grown-up. Grown-ups have jobs. Get to work,” Gepetto said.
Pinocchio turned to the Grimms with a look of desperation on his face.
“Don’t look at us,” Sabrina said. She and the others all turned their backs on him and walked away.
As Charming led them around one more corner Sabrina felt something whiz past her head, followed by a loud thunk! The next second she spotted a knife impaled in the chest of a straw dummy propped on a stake not more than a foot away. The dummy was dressed as the Sheriff of Nottingham, complete with a leather jacket and hat. Another dummy dressed as the Queen of Hearts was nearby. It had another knife buried in its forehead.
“Sabrina!” Uncle Jake cried, racing to her side. “I’m sorry. I did not know . . . Henry, Veronica, what are you all doing here?”
“We came to see you,” Henry said. “We’re worried about you.”