“Please pick up the pace!” the dodo squawked. “The revisers are nipping at our heels.”
Sabrina glanced back and found that the dodo was correct. Her party had gained at least thirty knights, courtiers, and princesses, all of whom were chased by the ravenous monsters. Sabrina watched them—they bounced around like jackals, chomping on everything in their way. What they consumed vanished, only to be replaced with a white nothingness. To call it a hole wouldn’t be accurate—what the monsters were doing was eliminating reality, in essence rubbing it out of existence like an eraser. Watching it was the scariest thing Sabrina had ever seen. No wonder the dodo was panicked.
They soon reached the top of the stairs and raced down a long passageway. At the end they found the ball sputtering and rolling against a huge wooden door. Daphne tried the knob, but it was locked.
“Hey, Arthur, you have a key to this door?” she shouted back to the king.
“I’m afraid not,” the king said. “These are Sir Gawain’s quarters. He has decided to stay in the story.”
“I can get us through the door, but you must take me with you,” a voice said from the back of the crowd. A small figure pushed its way to the front. It was Pinocchio.
“You!” Sabrina cried.
“I really can get that door open. Do we have a deal?”
Daphne nodded. “Do it.”
Pinocchio reached into his pocket and took out a pin. He slid it into the lock and twisted and turned until it clicked. “A little trick I learned while living on the streets of Italy,” he said.
He pushed the door open. In the room beyond was a second door, this one standing upright in the middle of the room. Unfortunately, Mirror was standing in front of it.
“I knew we couldn’t trust you,” Sabrina said to the boy.
“I swear I had no clue he was here,” Pinocchio said.
“Just wait. His nose will grow,” Daphne said. “It happens when he tells a lie.”
“Give me the boy, Sabrina,” Mirror demanded, cutting off the bickering.
Sabrina shook her head and struggled with her squirming brother. “He’s not yours. He belongs with us.”
Mirror’s face turned purple with anger. The veins in his neck popped out and his eyes grew dark. “Those creatures will be here at any moment. Once they arrive, they will devour this room and everyone in it, including the boy.”
“Then get out of the way and we’ll leave.”
“They’re coming!” the dodo shouted. “You can stand and argue all you want. Just open the door and let us through.”
“I agree,” Sir Lancelot shouted. “Your dispute does not involve us. Step aside and let us pass.”
“Then we have a dilemma,” Mirror said. “I want the child. You want to pass. I’ll let everyone through this door if one of you brings me my boy.”
“Hand him over,” the Cheshire Cat cried. “He will still be alive, as will we. What good is there in letting us all die?”
Puck drew his sword, but his arm shook from the earlier blasts. “I will run through the first person who even thinks of trying.” His weakened state sapped the necessary intimidation from the threat.
The first reviser scurried into the room. Its sharp little teeth chomped and gnashed. Then it sprang at Sir Lancelot. The knight fought fiercely, swinging his sword at the monster, but the reviser was fast and agile. It leaped out of the way of Lancelot’s attacks until it sank its teeth into the man’s sword. A second later, the sword was gone. Three more revisers sprang into the room and jumped on Lancelot, the dodo, and King Arthur.
“It’s the only way to save his life, Starfish,” Mirror said with open arms.
“Daddy!” the boy cried.
Sabrina felt faint and flushed. Her head was turning like a top. What should she do? What was the right choice?
“Give him to Mirror,” a voice said. Sabrina turned, ready to throttle whoever had spoken. She was surprised to find it was Daphne.
Reluctantly, Sabrina held out her brother to Mirror. She had no choice.
“We will stop him. We’ll have another chance,” Daphne said.
“I have no doubt you will try,” Mirror said as the toddler hugged him. Mirror paid little mind to his affection. He held him the way one might a sack of groceries. He opened the door and stepped into the angry wind, and then he was gone.
“Clearly that was the responsible choice,” the White Rabbit said.
If Sabrina could kill someone with a look, the rabbit would have died on the spot. “Get through the door,” she shouted. “Every last cowardly one of you!”
The crowd rushed past her and fled into the empty void of the door. Puck snatched Pinocchio by his collar.