Sabrina stood on a large, flat rock beneath an inky night sky. The air was hot and humid and heavy with the musk of wild creatures. Jungle trees dipped down overheard and the full moon’s light lit up the ground. In her hand was a torch, which she held above her head. Its light revealed savage beasts surrounding her—a pack of wolves. Each held its haunches high, but their eyes were on the ground and many were trembling in fear. The torch also illuminated the dirty loincloth that barely covered her.
“Thou art the master,” a voice said from the trees above her head. It was smooth and serious, and when she looked up at it she realized its owner was a black panther nestled in the branches. “Save Akela from the death. He was ever your friend.”
Terrified, Sabrina screamed and stumbled backward. When the panther did not pounce, she tried to calm herself. She told herself over and over again that she was in a story and story animals were not the same as their man-eating real-life versions. At least, she hoped they weren’t. The fact that the panther was talking boded well too. Most of the talking animals in Ferryport Landing weren’t savage—annoying for sure, but not bloodthirsty. Still, there was no sign of Daphne or Puck. Perhaps they had been the appetizers and she was about to become the main course. “Daphne? Puck? I could really use some help here.”
An old gray wolf stood nearby, its head bowed in obedience. When she spoke, he looked up in confusion. “What did the man-cub say?”
“I have no idea,” another said.
“Could the man-cub repeat what he just said?”
“Man-cub?” Sabrina said, confused.
Then a figure on hands and knees crawled toward her. It was Daphne and she was giggling. “We’re in The Jungle Book!”
Sabrina had not read The Jungle Book. Granny Relda had told her that its main character, Mowgli, was a good kid, so she had flipped through the book quickly and moved on to the next. Looking back, that hadn’t been the best strategy.
“I’m a wolf,” Daphne said, letting out a goofy howl at the silver moon. It sounded less like a wolf and more like a wounded house cat. “Guess who you are! You’re Mowgli!”
Sabrina searched her memory for facts about Mowgli. He was a boy from India who was raised by wolves—he had a friend that was a sloth bear and another that was a panther. She seemed to recall there was something else about a tiger, but she couldn’t remember anything specific. Was the tiger really annoying and bouncing around a lot? Maybe that was another story.
“Where’s Puck?” Sabrina asked.
Daphne shrugged as she got to her feet. “He’s around here somewhere.”
Sabrina frowned as she studied the wolf pack nervously. “Any idea what we’re supposed to do before we’re turned into dog food?”
“Pardon me?” one of the wolves cried. “We are not dogs. We are wolves!”
“Proud ones at that!” another shouted.
Just then, a huge animal lumbered onto the rock. It was orange and white and all muscle. Sabrina nearly dropped her torch in fright when she realized it was a Bengal tiger. This particular animal hobbled on a lame foot, but that did nothing to detract from its menacing presence.
“Enough!” it roared. “This is not how things went. You are supposed to grant Akela a pardon from the death and then accept your banishment from the pack and the Council. Then you are supposed to attack some of the wolves with your torch and then attack me. You must stick to what happened, or the revisers will come. Follow the original events or I will kill you where you stand, man-cub.”
“First, I’m not a ‘man-cub.’ If anything I’m a woman-cub,” Sabrina said. “Secondly, I don’t know this story well enough to follow it, so you’re going to have cut me a break.”
“Perhaps I should just cut you,” Shere Khan said, flashing the claws on his good paw.
A figure dropped out of the sky and landed between the girls and the tiger. “Keep your paws off my fiancée, you flea-ridden stray,” Puck shouted.
“By the lock that freed me,” the panther cried as he craned his neck to eye the boy fairy. “Who are you?”
Puck put his hands on his hips and puffed up his chest. “I am the Trickster King. Leader of the Lazy, Master of Mayhem, Savior of the—surely you’ve heard of me.”
The wolves looked at one another and then shook their heads. “Are you one of the monkey people?”
Puck frowned and turned back toward Shere Khan. “No, I am not one of the monkey people. I am the sworn protector of the Grimms and you will not touch them, or I will turn the hose on you.”
Shere Khan roared so powerfully that Puck’s hair was blown into an even bigger mess than usual.
“We’re in The Jungle Book,” Daphne said to Puck. “They think Sabrina is Mowgli and I’m one of the wolves.”
“Whoever you are, you are messing with the story!” Shere Khan bellowed. A strand of saliva leaked out of the creature’s mouth and dribbled to the ground. “The Editor will not tolerate it, and I have no intention of being revised.”