The Unusual Suspects (The Sisters Grimm, Book 2)

She stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Daphne to respond, but the little girl remained quiet. Sabrina told herself she didn't care. Daphne wasn't going to make her feel guilty. She'd worry about being tolerant and accepting when their mother and father came home.

"Good night," she whispered, but her sister said nothing. Sabrina snatched a copy of The Blue Fairy Book off the nightstand and opened it to page one. Maybe there was something in the book, some kind of magic she could use to find their parents.

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Once the house was quiet, Sabrina grabbed her set of keys up from under the bed, snatched a book off her nightstand, and headed to Mirror's room. When she walked through the portal, she found him with a reflective silver card under his chin and a tanning lamp shining in his face. On a nearby table he had a pitcher of margaritas and a bottle of suntan lotion. When he saw Sabrina, he smiled and flicked off the lamp.

"Just in time, kiddo," the little man said. "I'm roasting over here. How was your first day of school?"

"Oh, the usual. The kids made fun of me, I punched a bully, and a teacher was murdered by a monster," Sabrina replied.

"Sixth grade isn't how I remember it," Mirror said, reaching over to a table and pouring himself a fresh drink. "Sorry, I'd offer you one but you're a bit young. How about a Shirley Temple?"

"No thanks," Sabrina said.

"I remember my school days. It wasn't easy for a shy talking mirror, but I managed. Trust me, starfish, it gets better the day after."

"The day after what?"

"The day after you graduate," Mirror said. "Are you feeling OK? You look flushed."

"I think I'm getting sick," the girl said, holding her hand to her forehead to check for a fever. "I've been getting headaches all day and I've been a cranky jerk to almost everybody."

"Sounds like puberty to me. If you think school is tough now, wait until you start getting zits."

"So, you're sure I'm not sick?"

"Completely, kiddo. I remember when your dad went through it. He was in a fistfight every day for two weeks. I remember one time he got your grandfather so angry the old man chased him up a tree." Mirror laughed.

"So, this is normal," Sabrina said. "I thought I was going crazy."

"I didn't say you weren't going crazy," the little man responded. "I just said you were growing up. The two are not mutually exclusive. So, did you just come to chat or are we going on a magic hunt again tonight?"

Sabrina sheepishly held out a book about King Arthur's powerful wizard, Merlin.

"Come on, kiddo," Mirror said, sounding resigned, and Sabrina followed him down the hall.

************************************

Early the next morning, Sabrina awoke to a thundering racket, followed by a series of thuds and crashes that knocked a picture off her bedroom wall. Something was going on at the end of the hallway that sounded like a fistfight and Sabrina knew there could be only one source of the chaos—Puck. She eyed the clock and saw that it was only five a.m. and her blood began to boil. Five a.m. was too early for his nonsense.

Of course, Daphne slept through the noise, snoring away as if nothing was happening. The little girl could sleep through World War Three. The only thing she wouldn't sleep through was breakfast.

Sabrina leaped out of bed and marched down the hallway. The day before had taught her not to just barge into his room, so she banged on the door angrily instead. After several moments, she realized that the tremendous noise she heard wasn't coming from inside Puck's bedroom, but from the bathroom down the hall. Fearing her grandmother had fallen in the tub, Sabrina rushed to the bathroom door, grabbed the knob, and flung the door open just as a nearly naked eleven-year-old boy ran past her.

"Puck!" Granny Relda cried. "Come back here!"

Mr. Canis leaped to his feet and rushed past Sabrina, chasing the boy, who had fled downstairs.

"What's going on?" the girl asked, as she peered into the bathroom. It was a complete disaster. The bathtub was surrounded by a dozen empty bottles of shampoo and what looked like the wrappings of at least twenty bars of soap. The inside of the tub was filled with an oily black sludge that slowly spiraled down the drain. On the toilet basin was a plate where four fat worms, several dead beetles, a hand grenade, and thirty-six cents in change had been collected.

"Puck is having his bath . . . his eighth bath," Granny Relda said, partly exhausted and partly annoyed. "You've let him out and now he's probably in the woods rolling in who knows what . . . again\"

"He's taking a bath?" Sabrina said. Puck hadn't taken a bath since he'd moved into the house and his unbearable stink had ruined many a meal for the girl. One whiff of his nauseating aroma was all anyone needed to realize that the Trickster King and soap were bitter enemies.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why is he taking a bath?" she asked suspiciously.

"We felt it was necessary, under the circumstances," said Granny Relda. Sabrina noticed the old woman was wearing plastic gloves to protect her hands.

"Circumstances? What circumstances?"