The Editor scowled. “Don’t you understand? It’s off-limits for a reason! It is unstable.”
“Don’t you understand? I don’t care,” the old woman said. “My name is Relda Grimm. I am the wife of Basil Grimm. The mother of Henry and Jacob Grimm and mother-in-law of Veronica Grimm. I’m the grandmother of Sabrina and Daphne, and adopted grandma to Puck. I am also the grandmother of the little boy Mirror has kidnapped. Now that we have been properly introduced, you should know one more thing about me—I will do anything to protect my family. I don’t care what falls apart. I don’t care if the whole world falls apart.”
“Mirror is already there,” Sabrina said. “It will have to be revised anyway. What difference does it make now if we go there too?”
“All the difference in the world.” The Editor’s voice dropped to a murmur. “He is there too.”
“He who?” Henry asked.
“I’ve told you of the great calamity that struck this book when a member of the Everafter community manipulated the magic that fuels it. I’ve also told you that a character was completely deleted—wiped from existence like he had never existed, not only in the Book but also in the real world. But what I have discovered since then is you can’t completely delete anything. You can only hide it. So I put him in the margins of the story where he couldn’t escape. He’s hidden between the lines and he’s still there and if you and Mirror and whoever walk in and start making big changes, you might tear history apart and let him out. And trust me—you do not want to let him out.”
“We have to take the chance,” Veronica said. “We won’t stop until we find our boy.”
If the Editor did not believe the family’s commitment up to that point, he seemed to understand it now. His resolve collapsed, like a boxer who has finally run out of gas in the ring. He looked toward the ceiling.
“Might I have your attention?” he called. A moment later, hundreds, if not thousands, of fat, hungry revisers climbed down the walls. They gathered at his feet, turning their blank faces up to him.
“There is a man invading Snow White’s tale,” he said, which caused the little creatures to erupt into nervous chatter. “He may cause a great deal of problems for the real world. I wish to remove him from our book and to do whatever we need to do to undo some of the barriers that prevent others from entering.”
The creatures let out some excited twittering that sent a chill up Sabrina’s back.
“No, you cannot revise him. You won’t recognize him because he is walking through events he experienced himself. Normally, I would send you to completely revise the tale, but there is another visitor from the real world—a small child—an innocent. This child must not be revised.”
There were more squeaks. These seemed to Sabrina like arguments.
“No, the child must be spared. You are not to revise him. We are attempting to rescue him.”
There was more chatter, and the Editor frowned. He turned to the family.
“They understand, but whether they will obey me is another story. They have their roles as I have mine. The best I can do is give you a head start.”
“What about me?” Pinocchio called. “You’re not sending me back into that book, are you?”
The Editor shot him an angry look. “You’re staying here. I think you’ve caused enough trouble, little boy.”
The thin man stepped over to a door that materialized by the fireplace. He opened it and gestured into the emptiness beyond. The family rushed through.
“Find him,” the Editor begged. “Find Mirror and the boy and leave my book as quickly as you can.”
When the raging wind in their ears died away and the flickering lights stopped blinding Sabrina, she looked around. She and her family were standing in the middle of a crude cabin. A group of seven very short men were standing around watching a beautiful woman sweep the rough, wooden floor.
“Well, who’s hungry?” the woman said, setting down her broom. She turned and flashed everyone a smile as bright as a spotlight. She was a collection of perfect features—a delicate button nose, bright red lips, skin like cream, hair as black as night, and bright blue eyes that sparkled like jewels.
“Ms. White!” Sabrina said.
Snow White looked confused. “Have we met?”
“She’s not our Ms. White,” Granny Relda said. “She’s just walking history.”