The Everafter War by Buckley, Michael
For my brother, Edwin
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
These books benefit from the amazing editing of Susan Van Metre and Maggie Lehrman, who not only correct my bad grammar but encourage me to navigate down roads I would never have known to take. The books also owe greatly to the tireless efforts of Jason Wells, who sings their praises near and far (even on weekends). Thanks to everyone at Amulet/Abrams who works so hard to make such beautiful books.
I owe a great deal of thanks to my literary agent, Alison Fargis, as well as her team at Stonesong Press, and, as always, my good friend Joe Deasy, who eagerly reads and rereads each manuscript.
Much thanks to Lucie Plaisimon, Caroline Hochberg, Ayshia Levy, and Zakiya Casey for their friendly smiles. But mostly thanks to Alison, who gave me Finn, who gives my aimless life an explanation.
SABRINA STOOD AGHAST, shocked from the discovery she had just made and the wave of emotions that accompanied it. Terror, betrayal, and disgust filled her head, sending mixed signals to every part of her body. One moment she wanted to run—to put as much distance between her and the figure standing before her as possible. The next she wanted to snatch him by the collar and shake him in anger until he explained himself.
“You? You’re the Master? You’re the leader of the Scarlet Hand?”
“Yes,” he said calmly.
“But you—” Daphne said, trembling.
“But I was your friend? Is that what you were going to say?”
“Yes! I trusted you. We all trusted you!” Sabrina cried.
“Then I’m afraid you’ve made a terrible mistake.”
abrina Grimm’s life was a collection of odd events. But sitting in her grandmother’s living room with three massive brown bears might have been the oddest of them all.
The bears had arrived in the company of a curly-haired blond woman with dazzling eyes. Her face was round and tanned, with dimples in her cheeks and a dainty nose sprinkled with golden freckles. Her name was Goldilocks. Yes, the Goldilocks, only twenty years older and overflowing with a nervous energy that kept her rushing around the living room rearranging furniture to her liking. She moved lamps and rugs, switched chairs with tables, and even took down family portraits and rehung them on different walls. When she moved something, she would step back and look at it, mutter something incomprehensible to herself, stick her tongue out, and then move it again. If she liked where it landed she would beam with pride and say, “Just right.”
Sabrina sat uncomfortably in a loveseat across from the group. Her sister, Daphne, sat next to her, chewing on her palm—a quirky habit she had when she was very excited or happy. The only other witness to Sabrina’s strange company was the family’s two-hundred-pound Great Dane, Elvis. He seemed just as nervous as Sabrina; the dog’s head swung back and forth from Goldilocks to the bears and then to Sabrina. He let out a soft, confused whine.
Sabrina shrugged at him. “Welcome to Ferryport Landing, Elvis.” The dog let out a soft bark.
“How long are we going to wait?” Sabrina whispered to her sister.
“Granny said she’d come and get us,” Daphne whispered back. “Maybe we should offer them something to drink, to be polite.”
Sabrina nodded. “Would anyone like anything to drink?”
The bears grunted and huffed and the blond woman responded in a series of short grunts. When they had finished chatting, Goldilocks turned to Sabrina and informed her that the biggest of the bears liked Earl Grey tea, very hot. The second biggest would prefer hers iced. The littlest of the bears would love some chocolate milk if it wasn’t too much trouble. Being from New York City, Sabrina had seen many crazy people talking to animals: She’d once seen a man discuss Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo with a one-eyed mutt and its filthy rubber chew toy. In this case, however, the woman talking to the animals wasn’t crazy. Animals really did talk to her.
The girls excused themselves and went into the kitchen with Elvis in tow. There they found a little girl in red pajamas huddling in the corner. She had a sad face framed by amber curls that fell across her shoulders. Her name was Red Riding Hood. Sabrina immediately wished she had stayed in the living room with the bears. Red had been a homicidal lunatic the day before, but when she was cured Granny had invited the child to live with the Grimms.
“Are they gone yet?” Red asked. She was extremely shy.
“No,” Daphne said. “But they’re friends. You don’t have to hide in the kitchen.”
Red didn’t look convinced.
Daphne went to work preparing the drinks while Sabrina spied on Goldilocks through a crack in the kitchen door. Goldilocks was still rushing around the room reorganizing the Grimms’ possessions.
“She’s giving me a headache,” Sabrina said.