The Sisters Grimm: Book Eight: The Inside Story by Michael Buckley, Peter Ferguson

said. “I’ll take the first watch.”
    Puck and Daphne didn’t argue. They lay down and soon both were snoring. Sabrina looked down at them. When the revisers came, she wouldn’t wake them. Better to die in their sleep, she thought.
    To occupy herself, she found some smooth, flat stones by the pond and practiced skipping them along the surface of the water. She had seen people skipping stones on TV, but there was little opportunity to learn such a skill in Manhattan. Sure, she lived on an island bordered by a river and the ocean, but almost every square inch of land was paved.
    Still, after some effort, she managed to get one to skip three times before it sank into oblivion. She searched the shore for more stones, collecting them in her pockets and in the belly of her shirt. When she’d had enough, she turned back to the pond only to see something unexpected rising from it. There was a creature in the water—no, better to say it was a creature made from the water. Though it was the shape of a man, it was made entirely of liquid. Leaves and pebbles swirled around in its body as it raced across the pond’s surface toward her.
    Sabrina was dumbfounded. Before she knew what was happening, its cold, wet hands were around her throat, squeezing tight. She fell back, spilling her stones at her feet and landing hard on the muddy ground. She tried to call out, but the creature’s watery hands were so strong they cut off her ability to speak and breathe.
    “Free me!” it bellowed. “Release me from this prison!”
    Suddenly there was a blast of heat and the creature cried out. Momentarily stunned, its hands lost their shape and Sabrina took the opportunity to crawl out of its reach. When she turned to run, she saw Puck breathing fire at the water monster, causing it to boil and evaporate into steam. What was left of it sank back into the pond and disappeared.

     
    “What was that thing, Grimm?” Puck asked as he helped her to her feet.
    “I don’t know for sure, but I have a theory that it was what everyone’s been warning us about,” Sabrina croaked. “The character from Snow White’s story that was too horrible to keep. We’re outside of Jack’s story, in the woods. That’s where this thing lives—in the parts of stories that aren’t written. When it had me, it demanded that I set it free.”
    “What’s going on?” Daphne asked as she rushed to the pond.
    Puck shook his head. “Nothing.”
    Sabrina looked at him, silently thanking him for not causing the little girl any more worry.
    “Well, come on. I have an idea on how to get out of this story,” Daphne said.
    Sabrina pulled herself together, and she and Puck followed Daphne back across the field in the direction they had come from.
    “So, the Munchkins told us that the door appears when the story is over,” Daphne said. “Well, the story is over, pretty much, and we’re still here. Why hasn’t it started over?”
    “’Cause Jack didn’t kill the giant,” Sabrina reminded her.
    “True!” Daphne said. “And now we have no Jack and no giant, but there is a big part of this story that is still around.”
    Daphne pointed at the enormous beanstalk rising into the clouds and continued her march to the little house beneath it.
    Without knocking, Daphne opened what was left of the front door and went inside, returning after a second with a large ax. “It’s just a theory, and I could be totally wrong, but maybe if we chop it down, the story will give us a break. Maybe if we can finish part of the story it will be enough of a finale to open a door.”
    Puck looked at the ax, then at the beanstalk. It was as thick and round as a house. “This smells suspiciously of work. You know I’m allergic.”
    “We have to try. Besides, there’s nothing to eat in that house and so soon—”
    “Give me that ax,” Puck shouted, and snatched it from her hands. Soon he was chopping wildly at the enormous plant.
    “It’s worth a shot,” Daphne