Part 17 (2/2)
At her words, the closing of the tear did slow down, but it did not stop completely.
The Jabberwock's eyes pulsed white. ”The Nothing in you echoes. I will claim your leftover Wonder. The Hat Girl is an empty sh.e.l.l.”
Maddie sagged. She did feel empty and tired.
The Jabberwock towered over Maddie, the stink of its breath ruffling her hair.
”Whatever telling-story spark you have stolen is not enough. My will is strongest. My power law. You serve me now.”
”That's it,” Maddie whispered, smiling. ”I made an oath to serve the story and the reader and no other, be it king or queen or baker or candlestick maker. Or Jabberwock.”
”m.u.f.flewords.” The Jabberwock rumbled above her, saliva dripping from its lips. ”Clearspeak now. Loudly.”
Maddie straightened. ”You're right. My power is not enough. But their power is.”
The Jabberwock snaked its head around, scanning the destruction it had wrought in the Grimmnasium, and found nothing it considered a threat. ”Whose power?”
”Theirs,” Maddie said, pointing at you. Yes, you. The ones reading this book. ”I'm only half the storyteller. The Readers are the other half. After all, they take the words and make the pictures in their minds-make the story real. Isn't that right, Readers?”
Feel free to nod, say yes or darn tootin' or absotively, or whatever feels just right.
The Jabberwock took a step back. ”Brainfraught babbletalk! You are mad!”
Maddie smiled. ”Why, yes, I believe I am! And you want to know a secret, little Wocking Jay?” Her voice dropped to a hush, and she leaned closer to the monster. ”Madness is life.”
Okay, Readers, help me. Think the words aloud. Or say them aloud. Narrate it to be true.
”Go home, Jabberwock,” said Maddie.
Go home, Jabberwock. A chorus of unseen voices repeated her words from across time, s.p.a.ce, and the wiggly bits in between.
Three times more, Readers!
Go home.
Go home!
GO HOME!.
The great fiend that is the Jabberwock, terror of two worlds and bane of banders.n.a.t.c.hes, stumbled backward, pushed by voices it heard suddenly, powerfully, shouting in its own mind.
”NO!” it roared.
The tear widened, a monstrous mouth tall and wide, s.h.i.+mmering around the edges, brilliant with the light of Wonderland. The Jabberwock thrashed, but its head dipped into the hole.
”Yes,” Maddie said.
”Impossible!” it screeched, its body tumbling through.
Maddie laughed. ”Nothing is impossible, silly beastie!”
The Jabberwock, now completely in Wonderland, twitched and struggled, its muscles bunching and contracting as it fought against the inevitable.
Maddie's smile dropped and her eyes narrowed. ”No one hurts my dad,” she said, and the tear between worlds closed.
PUDDING MAKES A TERRIBLE HAT! SNOOF PIDDLE DEE-h.e.l.lo? h.e.l.lo, testing, testing. Am I speaking reasonable words? No nonsense, no ”crunchy lunches” and ”utmost roast beef”? Yes! I am making sense again! The Narrator is back and doing a victory dance! Look out! Check my moves-I found them and I'm going to keep them. Oh yeah, doot doot doot- ”Narrator, you're back!” Maddie squeaked. ”Yippee-potomus!”
Yes! I'm back, Maddie! That was horrible. I could think, but my words were nonsense and I was helpless to do anything but watch the chaos and... wait, I'm the Narrator. And I'm a professional. So no more victory dancing. Back to work.
Ahem. Yes, it was a glorious day in Ever After. Even the Narrator felt glorious! The Jabberwock had returned to Wonderland, and all over the Grimmnasium, things changed by its magic were un-magicking, untangling, and unbecoming into what they used to be.
A rosebush scrunched into a tight ball like a piece of paper crumpled up in your palm. The ma.s.s of pink blooms and brown th.o.r.n.y branches shaped into a tall, brown-skinned, and pink-dressed girl of distinguished height and fas.h.i.+on sense. She immediately ran, her high heels clacking on the Grimmnasium's hardwood floor, and barreled toward Lizzie.
”Whoa, girl, you Rockabye-Baby rock!” Briar lifted her fist.
Lizzie was still lying against the wall, but she straightened and lifted her fist. She'd watched Briar performing her signature fist b.u.mps with her friends and so knew what to do-she knocked her knuckles against Briar's, opened her hand, and then rained wiggling fingers down in a representation of a glitter bomb. She couldn't quite suppress a pleased giggle.
”That thing was going to eat me,” said Briar. ”Actually going to gobble up my roses, but you wielded some seriously hextreme moves with that sword. I never knew you were so royally fablelous!”
”And I never knew that I'd bother to save your life.” Lizzie cleared her throat. ”I do not regret it.”
”This is so wicked cool,” said Briar. ”Friends?”
Lizzie blinked. She looked at Briar, then at Cedar, Maddie, and Kitty.
Friends are one R away from fiends.
Avoid friends at all costs!
Also anyone to whom the R does not come naturally (pirates are okay).
Sometimes her mother's advice just didn't make sense in context.
”Friends would be aces,” Lizzie said.
A gold padlock lying loose clicked open, lengthened, and widened into a girl of abundant golden curls. Her wide-set curious eyes looked around, and Blondie Lockes made a noise like the snuffle of a bear.
”This is going to make the best MirrorCast show I've ever done!” she said.
A pair of crystalline shoes flashed brightly in a ray of sunlight, a swirl of sparkling light slowly resolving into Ashlynn Ella. She blinked her large doe-like eyes twice before swooning into a graceful faint. Beside her, a st.u.r.dy tree melted into Hunter Huntsman, and he caught her fainting body in one hand and his ax in the other. From somewhere unseen, trumpets played a heroic fanfare.
In midflight, a raven sprouted a head full of long purplish-black hair. She squawked and dived to the ground, alighting atop a red apple before her wings lengthened and narrowed into arms. She was fully back to being Raven when the apple sprouted back into Apple. Raven Queen was sitting on Apple White's head.
”You're sitting on my head,” said Apple.
”Um... how-” Raven started before wobbling and falling off, catching herself on a bright blue bicycle just as it changed back into Dexter Charming. No heroic trumpets played, but Dexter didn't seem to mind.
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