The twins had never heard this story before and laughed just as hard as Bob did. They could tell their mom enjoyed telling it as much as they enjoyed hearing it.
“Those were good times,” Charlotte said with a bittersweet smile. “I miss them.”
These were the moments of nice family discussion that Charlotte was so desperate for. The Baileys hadn’t had them since the twins’ father died. There was no talk of death or turmoil like in their usual conversations; they were just a family laughing and sharing stories with one another.
As much as Alex wanted to continue hearing stories about their parents, not addressing the issues at hand was eating her alive. Conner could feel the impatience boiling inside his sister. He knew it was only a matter of time before she ended their mother’s game of pretend.
“Mom, I’m sorry you haven’t had more moments to tell us stories like that,” Alex said. “You’re right, you and Dad raised us to put family first and we haven’t for a long time.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Charlotte said. “That means a lot.”
“But,” Alex said, “I can’t keep pretending everything is okay when we know it’s not.”
Conner covered his face with his hands. “Oh boy, here we go,” he said.
“Alex, I asked you guys not to bring this up—”
“I’m sorry, but I have to,” Alex said. “Right now, a lot of people need our help. I know Conner and I have given up a lot, and you’ve given up a lot by association, but we don’t care what we’ll have to sacrifice if it saves our friends and all the families like ours. We’re doing the right thing because that’s also the kind of son and daughter you and Dad raised. So please—let us.”
Charlotte looked at her children differently than she had all day. She wasn’t glaring at them with frustration or anger, but with pride. She reached across the table and held their hands with her own.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I’ve been a little selfish. All I want is for you to have the same experiences every teenager gets to have before this time in your lives is gone, but I forget there’s nothing normal about you. It doesn’t matter what I want—you should be living the lives you were meant for. Forgive me, it was just so difficult losing your father; I hate feeling like I’ve lost you, too.”
“I’m sorry we’ve made you feel like you lost us,” Conner said.
“You’re my children, but other people’s heroes,” Charlotte said. “Any mother would be lucky to be in my shoes, but that doesn’t mean they’re easy to wear. Sometimes at the end of the day, I just have to pretend you’re both asleep in your beds.”
Charlotte dabbed the corners of her eyes with her napkin. Alex and Conner couldn’t blame their mom for wishing things were different—they did, too. The twins put so much time and effort into ending people’s suffering, they didn’t realize how much their own mother was hurting. But if their mom was willing, she was about to become more involved in their lives than she was prepared for.
“Now tell me what’s going on in the fairy-tale world,” Charlotte said. “And how in the world am I going to help you with it?”
Alex and Conner were relieved they could continue discussing their plan. Both opened their mouths to fill her in, but they were at a loss for words. After all, it was a complicated thing to explain. So much of it involved their uncle Lloyd, and they didn’t want to overwhelm their mom with news of an evil brother-in-law.
“Long story short, a really terrible man has taken over the fairy-tale world,” Conner said. “They call him the Masked Man.”
“How’d he take over?” Charlotte asked.
“He stole a potion from Grandma that turns every written work into a portal to the world it describes,” Alex said. “He traveled into Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, and Peter Pan. Somehow he recruited the Queen of Hearts, the Wicked Witch of the West, Captain Hook, and all their minions and soldiers into a big Literary Army and attacked all the kingdoms.”
“That sounds terrifying,” Bob said. “Those villains used to give me nightmares when I was a kid.”
“They’re much worse in real life,” Conner said. “Imagine how scary you thought they were, now double that image, cover it in butter, and leave it outside for a week—that’s how frightening they really are!”
“Why can’t the Fairy Council do something? Why does it always have to fall on your shoulders?” Charlotte asked.
“The Fairy Council has been turned to stone, and all the soldiers in all the kingdoms are no match for the Literary Army,” Alex said. “If we don’t find a way to stop them, no one will.”
Charlotte hated that so much responsibility had fallen on her children’s young shoulders.
“For the record, I am not okay with you two fighting these guys,” Charlotte said. “But how are you going to stop them?”
Alex nudged Conner. “Tell her your plan,” she said.
Conner didn’t appreciate his sister’s unenthusiastic introduction. “We’re going to recruit our own army,” he said. “We’re going to use the same potion to travel into my short stories and bring back my characters.”
Charlotte and Bob couldn’t believe what they were hearing.
“Oh my gosh!” Charlotte said. “Is that really the only thing you can do?”
“Trust me, I wish I could file a report at the Pentagon,” Conner said. “Sometimes you’ve got to fight fire with fire.”
“I still don’t see how I fit into all of this,” Charlotte said.
The moment had finally come for the twins to tell her. It was such an absurd request, the twins were afraid to ask. If she refused, they weren’t sure who could help them.
“We need you to look after Conner’s characters as we bring them out of his stories,” Alex said.
It was like someone pressed the Pause button on Charlotte and Bob. Without breathing or blinking, they just looked at the twins with open mouths and large eyes. They weren’t taking it well.
Conner waved his hand in front of their faces. “Are you still with us?” he asked.
“Sorry,” Bob said. “It’s just—most parents of fifteen-year-olds only worry about getting asked for money to go to the movies, or driving permits.”
Conner sat up excitedly. “Oh-my-God-Alex-we’re-old-enough-for-driving-permits!” he said in one breath.
“One crisis at time, remember?” Alex said. “So, Mom and Bob, can you help us?”
Bob and Charlotte looked at each other and shrugged.
“If it’ll save the fairy-tale world, I won’t object,” Bob said.
“What kinds of characters are going to be in my house?” Charlotte asked. “We just had the carpets cleaned.”
“Oh, nothing crazy—pirates, cyborgs, superheroes, mummies—the usual fictional suspects,” Conner said under his breath. “So, does that mean you guys are in?”
The twins held their breath. Charlotte was hesitant, but it might have been more concerning if she were completely fine with the idea.
“All right,” she said. “It’ll be an adventure.”
The twins were so relieved, they sank a foot into their seats.
“Awesome!” Conner said.
“Fantastic!” Alex said.
Bob and Charlotte glanced down at the Storybook Grill menus, but it was a very difficult conversation to follow with French fries and hamburgers. They both pushed the menus away.
“You know what, I think I’ve lost my appetite,” Charlotte said. “Maybe we should go home and I’ll cook something later.”
“I agree,” Bob said.
The twins weren’t going to argue. They left the Storybook Grill with Bob and Charlotte and headed back home. All of them were completely unaware that their entire conversation had been heard by the patrons in the next booth.
The Book Huggers leaned so far out of their seats to watch them leave that Cindy and Mindy fell onto the floor. The night had consisted of the most important eavesdropping of their lives.
“G
irls, did you hear everything I just heard?” Cindy said.
“I’m not sure,” Lindy said. “My heart started beating so hard toward the end, I only heard every other word!”
“We’ve been right all along!” Mindy said. “They never went to Vermont—they were living in another dimension! Did any of us ever think of that?”
Wendy raised a hand—reminding the group it had been one of her suspicions from the very beginning.
“Forget Sherlock Holmes,” Cindy said. “We’ve got our own mystery to follow.”
CHAPTER FIVE
CRIES FROM THE CASTLE
Had someone told Bree Campbell two weeks ago that she would soon be flying above another continent on a World War II plane with three distant relatives, she would have laughed. Ironically, that’s exactly where Bree was, and she wanted to cry. She had always considered herself a person of good judgment and respectability, but as she bounced around the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress thirteen thousand feet in the air, somewhere between France and Germany, Bree suddenly felt like the lead character in a cautionary tale.
“Can you believe I haven’t flown one of these since the sixties?” Cornelia called from the captain’s seat. The old woman’s hands clutched the controls, but from the way they jerked her back and forth, it looked like the plane was controlling her more than she was controlling it.
Bree, Wanda, and Frenda were strapped into their seats and holding on for dear life. They had been flying for nine hours straight, and thanks to Cornelia’s questionable piloting skills, it had been the bumpiest flight of Bree’s life. And from the way things were going, it might be her last.
“Aunt Cornelia, are you sure you don’t need a hand up there?” Wanda asked.
“I’m fine, thank you, dear,” Cornelia said. “It’s just like riding a bike!”
“Yeah, off a cliff,” Frenda said.
When Bree first met the Sisters Grimm and heard about their lives’ work monitoring portals between the Otherworld and the fairy-tale world, she thought they were the most capable group of women she had ever known. However, she was learning the hard way that that capability did not include flying a plane.
“Cornelia, remind me again where you went to piloting school?” Bree asked.
“Well, technically I never went to school for it,” Cornelia said. “My father was a pilot during the war—this was his plane. He taught me how to fly when I was about your age, Bree. He flew this baby to Germany many times. Thank goodness we’re going under different circumstances.”
“Your father fought in World War II?” Bree asked. “That must have been difficult with so much family in Germany.”
“Most of our family left long before the war,” Cornelia said. “Would you like a flying lesson, Bree?”
Bree wasn’t convinced Cornelia knew how to fly, let alone give a flying lesson. She looked to Wanda and Frenda, and they motioned for her to go.
“You can’t be any worse than her!” Frenda said.
“Learn everything she knows and save us!” Wanda said.
Bree was scared to unbuckle her seat belt, but she quickly unfastened it and dashed to the co-pilot seat beside Cornelia. There was an overwhelming number of buttons, switches, and levers before her.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Bree said.
“If you can operate that phone of yours so well, this will be a walk in the park,” Cornelia said. “Besides, the co-pilot’s job is the easiest.”
“Wait a second,” Bree said. “There should be two pilots flying this plane?”
“Traditionally,” Cornelia said. “But it always takes two men to do what a woman can do on her own.”
Bree would never have gotten on the plane if she’d thought it would lead to this. She was making the trip to save a friend, but who was going to save her?
As soon as she learned Emmerich had been kidnapped, Bree had a strong feeling it wasn’t a normal Otherworld abduction. She had no evidence to support the suspicion, but she felt it with every fiber of her being and couldn’t shake it no matter how hard she tried. Bree had pestered Frau Himmelsbach for more information about the incident, but Emmerich’s mother grew tired of the questions and eventually ignored her calls. Bree had shared her hunch with the Sisters Grimm, and they agreed the circumstances were fishy.
“It is curious he was kidnapped so soon after being in the fairy-tale world,” Cornelia said.
“If he was taken by someone from the fairy-tale world, we have tools that can prove it,” Wanda told Bree.
“What kind of tools?” Bree asked.
“Cross-dimensional emission-tracking devices,” Frenda said. “Whenever someone or something travels between worlds, the portal leaves a radiation-like scent on them. We have machines that can detect it.”
“Awesome,” Bree said. “All we need now is a way to get to Germany.”
Cornelia had been cooped up in their Connecticut home for so long, she was looking for any excuse to get out of the house. She generously offered Bree a ride to Germany on their family plane. Bree was so desperate to find Emmerich, she didn’t hesitate to take her up on the offer.
There was only one thing standing in her way: Bree had technically run away from home to find the Sisters Grimm. If she was now going to Europe, she needed a really good excuse so her parents wouldn’t call the police. Luckily, Cornelia supplied that as well.
“Is this Little Eddy?” Cornelia had said to Bree’s father over the phone. “It’s your cousin Cornelia.… I know, it has been a very long time.… Darling, I’m calling to sincerely apologize to you and your wife. You see, Bree recently called me with questions about our family heritage. She was so interested, I invited her to come stay with me so I could tell her more.… Well, I just found out she never ran it by you.… My thoughts exactly—inexcusable! I’m sure you were both scared to death.… My intention was to send her home immediately, but I unfortunately had a bad fall this morning and injured my hip.… No, I’m not in any pain.… Yes, there is something you can do.… Would it be terrible if Bree stayed with me until the end of the week? I’m useless on my own.… Just until Wanda gets back into town, then we’ll put her on the train home.… She’s been such help.… You bet, absolutely no privileges whatsoever.… Thank you so much, dear!”
The next thing Bree knew, she and the Sisters Grimm were on their way to a small private airport. However, Bree, Wanda, and Frenda all thought Cornelia had hired a pilot to take them to Germany. They didn’t realize Cornelia was planning to fly the plane herself until she switched on the propellers and launched them into takeoff.
Now, at just fifteen years old, Bree was sitting next to the old woman, being taught to fly the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress. If Bree lived long enough to become an old woman herself, she wasn’t sure her grandchildren would even believe the story she was currently living.
“Taking off is the easy part,” Cornelia instructed. “You simply start the propellers with the blue dial, turn the red gear to Steering Mode to get the plane onto the runway, push down the green lever, and pull up on the controls.”
Bree gulped. “Blue dial, red gear, green lever, controls,” she repeated.
“Perfect,” Cornelia said. “To fly, all you do is pull up on the green lever, turn the red gear to Flight Mode, adjust the altitude with the brown handle, and steer with the controls. Here, give it a go!”
Cornelia flipped a switch and the whole plane turned off. They entered a rapid descent toward the earth! Bree watched in panic as the numbers on the altitude monitor dropped hundreds of feet per second. Wanda and Frenda were screaming so loudly, she could barely focus.
“Green lever, red gear, brown handle, controls!” Bree said, mimicking everything Cornelia had just instructed.
The Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress stopped plunging toward the ground and glided smoothly through the clouds. In fact, it was flying much more easily with Bree at the controls.
“You’re a natural flier!” Cornelia said. “It’s in our DNA.”
&nb
sp; Bree thought there might be some truth to this. Since the magic in their family’s blood came from Mother Goose, she wondered if a few of Mother Goose’s flying genes had been transferred, too. There was actually a lot about Cornelia that reminded Bree of Mother Goose. They both had the same twinkle in their eye when they put others in danger.
“How much longer until we’re on the ground?” Wanda asked. “Safely on the ground!”
“We’ve already begun our descent,” Cornelia said. “We’ll land shortly after we pass over Füssen.”
Bree recalled that the area didn’t have many large cities. “Does Füssen have an airport?” she asked.
“We don’t need an airport to land,” Cornelia said. “To quote Coco Chanel, ‘The world is your runway’!”
“Mother, she was talking about fashion!” Frenda yelled.
“Everyone stop worrying! This baby is built for combat,” Cornelia said.
They didn’t care what it was built for; landing a plane anywhere but at an airport sounded like a crash landing to them! Bree, Wanda, and Frenda tightened their seat belts until there was no slack left. Soon the small Bavarian city of Füssen came into view and Cornelia searched the ground for a smooth surface to land.
“That field should do,” she said.
Cornelia jerked the controls and the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress curved through the air, lowering toward a grassy field below. As the plane turned, Bree caught a glimpse of Neuschwanstein Castle peeking through the hills in the distance. It was as if she were seeing an old friend. The castle was just as majestic as it was the first time she saw it with Conner on Mary’s Bridge.
“All right, time for your landing lesson,” Cornelia said. “You start by turning the red gear to Landing Mode, pull up on the green lever, turn the black knob to put down the wheels, and pull up on the controls so we’re parallel to the ground.”
“Red gear, green lever, black knob, controls—got it,” Bree said.
“Splendid,” Cornelia said. “Now land us.”