“Fine!” Daphne said. “Where’s what’s-his-name?”
“If it’s the child you speak of, he is there, with the queen,” Lancelot said as he pointed across the courtyard to a slender, pale woman with blond hair that hung to her hips. She wore an eggshell-white silk dress and her hair was embellished with tiny, delicate flowers. In her arms was a small boy with red hair and bright green eyes.
The children shoved and forced their way through the crowd as they hurried to their brother. Most people were too distracted by the fighting to care they had been pushed, but they were also too distracted to move out of the way. Still, Sabrina pressed on and soon she, Daphne, and Puck were standing before the lovely woman and the baby boy.
“Guinevere!” Sabrina said. She had met the woman a few times when her grandmother went on errands and always found her to be sweet and polite. She was a stark contrast from her hot-headed husband, Arthur.
“Do I know you, child?”
“The real you does,” Sabrina said.
“We’re from outside the story,” Daphne said.
Guinevere’s eyes grew wide. “Then word of our efforts has reached far and wide. Have you come to help liberate us?”
“Not exactly. The little boy you’re holding is real too. He’s our brother,” Sabrina said.
Guinevere pointed to Mirror. Lightning bolts were coming out of his hands and eyes. “He told me to guard him with my life,” the queen said. “I fear he means it.”
“He belongs with us,” Sabrina said as she took the boy into her arms. She looked into his face. She had never been so close to him, and only days ago she had no idea he existed, but now, looking into his eyes, smelling his skin, feeling his little fingers wrap around her neck, she could feel he was family. This strange boy was as familiar to her as her own sister. He was as much a part of her as her own hands.
“We have to get out of here while Mirror is distracted,” Daphne said.
“Plus, that kid needs a diaper change,” Puck added.
“I think that’s you,” Sabrina said. “But you’re right.”
“What about Pinocchio?” Daphne said. “We made a deal with the Editor.”
Sabrina scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of the boy. “I know a deal’s a deal, Daphne, but we’re in way over our heads. Let’s take our brother and get out of here while we still can. Tell the ball of yarn to take us home.”
For once, Daphne did not argue. She whispered her instructions into the ball, but it sat in her hand.
“We’re not at the end of this story,” she said. “The last thing that happens is a wounded Arthur is put in a boat with fairies and they drift down a river. With things all messed up like this, I can’t even begin to imagine where we might be in this story right now.”
“Editor! Open the door!” Puck shouted over the noise.
“What are you doing?” Sabrina said.
“The Editor said to call for him when we were ready,” Puck said. “Editor! Where are you?”
“But we don’t have Pinocchio yet,” Sabrina said.
“A tiny detail when you consider we’re about to be killed,” the boy fairy shouted.
Suddenly, the ball of yarn rolled out of Daphne’s hand and darted into the crowd. The children gave chase and struggled against the relentless tide of onlookers. Each step was a challenge as they were jostled and shoved mercilessly. But Sabrina couldn’t have cared less. Her heart was full with joy. The child in her arms completed her family, and the hole inside her could start to mend itself. Daphne ran alongside with happy tears in her eyes. Even Puck, who despised the joy of others, had a tight grin on his face. For once, the Scarlet Hand had not succeeded.
And then there was an explosion that knocked them off their feet. Sabrina checked to see if her brother was hurt, but besides a few startled cries he was in perfect health. Puck helped her to her feet but there was an eerie quiet in the courtyard and then a troubled murmuring.
“He killed Merlin,” a voice said near them. “I can’t believe it. He actually killed him.”
Then a familiar voice bellowed a demand that seemed to hover over the crowd like an angry cloud. “WHERE IS THE BOY?”
“Daddy!” the child cried.
The children looked at the toddler in shock.
“Daddy?” Daphne repeated. “Mirror isn’t your daddy.”