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

said.
    Sabrina nodded. Her throat was sore from the water creature’s attack, and speaking hurt.
    After each of them had taken their turns hacking at the beanstalk, the overgrown plant finally tottered over. Sadly, it fell on Jack’s little house, crushing it even further. His poor mother would be distraught—she already had a loser for a son. But felling the beanstalk had its desired effect. A new door materialized right before them.
    Sabrina pulled it open. A blast of wind blew everyone’s hair back. It smelled like wild grass and tea. Daphne whispered for the ball of yarn to follow Pinocchio. It rolled into the void and the trio once again stepped into the unknown.

     
    When the lights came back on, Sabrina found herself sitting at a long table set beneath a tree. A little cottage sat on a hill not far off and wildflowers covered the ground, leaning toward the sunlight. Sabrina looked around the table and nearly fell out of her chair when she saw who was sitting with her. The Mad Hatter was sipping tea from an enormous cup and resting his elbow on poor Daphne’s head. Next to Daphne was a brown hare as big as a child, and he had his elbow on Daphne’s head too. The little girl seemed just as bewildered by their arrival in the strange setting as Sabrina was. She also looked annoyed as she struggled to escape from the Mad Hatter and the hare’s rude behavior.
    Puck was at the other end of the table, shoveling handfuls of cake into his mouth. He looked like a boy who hadn’t eaten in weeks. Not far away, Sabrina spotted the magic ball of yarn zipping into the woods.
    Sabrina looked down at herself and saw she was wearing a soft blue dress with an apron tied around her waist. She also had on white stockings and simple black shoes and she knew exactly which story they had stumbled into.
    “I’m Alice,” Sabrina said through her strained throat.
    “We’re in Wonderland,” Daphne squealed.
    “Shhhhhhhh!” the Mad Hatter whispered. “Stick to the story.”
    “Have some wine,” the hare said.
    “Wine? Where do you think we are, France? I’m twelve years old,” Sabrina said.
    The hare seemed surprised by her outburst.
    “Remember, you’re supposed to be Alice,” Daphne hissed.
    “Well, Alice was only seven years old when this happened. They need to worry about getting arrested. You can’t walk around offering alcohol to children.”
    “Do you know this story?” Daphne whispered.
    Sabrina tried to recall what she knew of the story. For once, her memory didn’t fail her—she knew the creature with the Mad Hatter was known as the March Hare. “I’ve read it a few times. It’s so weird, so I needed to go over it again and again, especially during Mr. Canis’s trial. I wanted to understand Judge Hatter.”
    The real Mad Hatter had been appointed by Mayor Heart so that he could intentionally rule against their friend in his murder trial. Despite the fact that the crime was eight hundred years old, and the girls managed to prove that someone else was responsible, the Hatter still sentenced Canis to death. Afterward, Canis had fled into the woods to hide.
    “Your hair wants cutting,” the Hatter said abruptly. Just like the real-life version, this Hatter had a huge head, and white hair as dry as hay and a tremendous hat. His face was filled with the now familiar nervousness of the characters they had encountered in the Book. He also shared the Book characters’ bizarre, otherworldly appearance. The Mad Hatter looked almost like he was a walking illustration and not a real person. He seemed to have a thick outline around his entire body.
    “Say something,” Daphne whispered.
    “I don’t know what to say,” Sabrina complained.
    The Mad Hatter and the March Hare shared a worried look until the March Hare leaned over and whispered, “You should learn not to make personal remarks. It’s very rude.”
    Sabrina sighed and repeated the phrase to the Mad Hatter.
    “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”