A ROOM HIDDEN BEHIND A MIRROR?” APPLE whispers. “Please let it be nothing at all alarming. Pretty please with an apple on top?”
Raven steps through the jagged hole in the mirror doorway first. It’s more of a closet than a room, the walls lined with books so old they are mostly scrolls and parchments.
“A secret book room!” Apple says.
“Who would hide books?” says Raven.
“Someone who didn’t want them found,” says Apple, hugging her arms around her chest. “Or didn’t want them to escape.”
Raven snorts. It’s almost as if Apple thinks the books in the room could be dangerous. Books aren’t dangerous!29
29 Except when they are!
Apple points to the floor, where recent footprints disrupt the carpet-like layer of dust.
“She was in here?” says Apple.
“It’s like she vanished into thin air,” says Raven.
“Or thick air,” says Apple, waving away the thick dust from her face.
A single table is covered in dust so heavy it’s like moss growing over a fallen log. Two books lie open there, dust-free, as if recently pulled from the shelves. Apple twitches, glancing back at the entrance, then gives up and approaches the books. Raven smiles. There are a few things Apple can’t resist: warm apple cobbler with melty ice cream, a parade (any kind—the girl is simply nuts about parades), and books she hasn’t read yet.30
30 And also—apples.
“She—whoever she is; I’m not convinced she’s your mother—but she was reading these,” says Apple.
Raven picks up a scroll, open to a description of something called Monster High.31
31 It’s sooo weird how we totally know what Monster High is, but they have no idea!
“Why was my mom reading about campfire stories?” says Raven.
“We don’t know it was your—” Apple begins.
“Weird. This talks about an ancient school where mummies and vampires and zombies and other monsters are students, but not as if it’s just a story. As if those creatures actually exist.”
Apple smooths her perpetually smooth curls. “Headmaster Grimm says it’s dangerous to tell made-up stories. He believes we should be focusing on our own stories and achieving our Happily Ever Afters.”
“Maybe that’s why this book is locked up in here,” says Raven. “But why was Mom—”
Apple takes a breath as if about to disagree.
“—or whoever it was,” Raven amends, “interested in these old stories?”
The second book is more like a pamphlet. Raven picks it up with just her fingertips, afraid that even touching the ancient paper will turn it into a pile of dust.
“What’s that noise?” asks Apple.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
“I don’t know. Maybe leaky pipes. Look, Apple.”
Raven holds up the parchment. Most of the words have been erased. Only a few remain, as if whoever erased the other words couldn’t quite scrub out the last few: Shadow High… power… Narrators… the breaking of the world… World of Stories…
“There’s that name again,” says Raven.
“You mean Shadow High?” says Apple. She shivers. “I’ve never heard of a World of Stories before. Sounds like some pretend tale. Narrators… Those are the voices Maddie is always talking about, right?”
“Yeah, she says she can hear them speaking,” says Raven. “She says Narrators are always telling our story, describing what we’re doing and thinking, even.”32
32 So awkward when people talk about you like you’re not even there. Hello, girls! I’m your Narrator, and I’m right here!
“Hextremely strange, even for Maddie. But what is—there’s that plopping sound again! It’s fairy distracting! Don’t you feel like you want to go figure out where it’s coming from?”
“Not really,” says Raven. “The castle I grew up in was always full of strange noises. I’ve learned to ignore them.”
At that, the plopping noises die out, like a sad little balloon giving up its last bit of air.
Raven gingerly turns over the parchment, trying to figure out what in Ever After her mother wanted from these books and to anticipate how she might protect her friends from whatever the Evil Queen has in store. She has made that her personal responsibility, but sometimes it feels like trying to stop a tsunami with a tea towel.
“Raven!”
In surprise, Raven nearly drops the paper.
Through the broken mirror bounds Madeline Hatter. Her curls look fluffier than usual; her teacup hat is tipping over one eye; her dress is a dizzying mix of stripes, dots, and assorted prints.
“Raven, you’re doing that thing again!”
“Hey, Maddie! Why are you… Uh, what thing am I doing?”
“You know, with the oh-my-golly-pops and heigh-ho-the-dairy-woes, but all wrapped up in a present with a big bow! A purple bow? Is purple your favorite color, Raven? I can’t believe I’ve never asked you that before! Oh! I just realized I walked through a mirror to get here! Am I in Wonderland?”33
33 Reader, don’t worry if you don’t understand everything Maddie says. You wouldn’t be the only one.
“Hi, Maddie,” says Apple. “We followed a suspicious woman who might be, but not necessarily is, the Evil Queen in disguise into a secret book room that has a hidden mirror door.”
“Oh,” says Maddie. “So just a typical day, then, huh?”
“Maddie, I’m really glad you’re here,” says Raven. “Strange stuff is happening. There was that earthquake, and Baba Yaga did a spell and said something about Shadow High—”
“Ah! That’s it!” says Maddie. “That’s why I came here to talk to you! I’m tickled blue you said that, because I’d already forgotten that they sent me here to this weird little room to tell you about Meadow Fly. Or was it Shallow Pie? Ooh yes. Pie. I like pie, don’t you?”34
34 Yes! Yes, I do!
“Um, wait,” says Raven. “How did you know we were in a secret mirror-doored room in the library, anyway?”
“The Narrators told me, of course!”
Apple and Raven share a look.
“They are so frizzled and froozled and gonk-bonkers today,” says Maddie, turning in circles, “like a top spinning on the ceiling and not just ’cause it looks fun. The Narrators wanted me to tell you a very important message and made me promise with hooked pinkies and crossed eyes and bendy elbows not to forget.”
Maddie smiles up at them. Raven and Apple lean in closer. Maddie smiles bigger, as pleased as a warthog in a mudhole.
“Well?” says Apple. “What’s the message?”
“Oh! Right!” Maddie clears her throat. “STOP.”
“Stop?”
“Yep. Stop. I’m certain they said to tell you to stop. Or was it hop? It might have been hop. Hopping is more fun than stopping, generally, and the Narrators are soooo nice I think they’d like us to have fun. Don’t you think?”
Maddie starts to hop back through the mirror, then turns as if expecting the two girls to follow. “No hoppity?”
“Maddie,” says Raven. “These voices you hear. How did they know about Shadow High?”
Maddie leans in and whispers, “Because they’re the Narrators. They know almost everything. And they’re not supposed to talk to me or any of us, really. So it must be a big deal for them to break their super-special rules just to tell me about it. A big, big deal. A big pig-in-a-wig deal.”
Raven’s mother-goosebumps are back, from her scalp down to her toenails.
In the distance, a fairybell chimes.
Apple groans a delightful groan, sounding almost as light and sweet as a pixie laugh. Raven wonders how she manages it.
“Oh my fairy godmother! We have to leave now for our next class or we’ll be late.” She takes Raven’s and Maddie’s arms and walks them out of the library.
Raven looks back over her shoulder as they leave, scanning the library one more time for any sign of her mother. Now her stomach feels as if it’s full of peas porridge ninety days old. Something is definitely shadowy. But if Raven gets involved, she worries she’ll only make things worse.