The Unusual Suspects

"Was she ugly?" he asked. "Why is it that I miss all the fun?"

"I guess you just don't have our luck," Sabrina grumbled.

"I hope the two of you washed," he said to the girls. "Frogs give you warts and it sounds like the one you fought off was mighty big. I wouldn't be surprised if you wake up in the morning and find you are one giant brown wart."

Daphne's eyes grew as big as saucers. "Nuh-uh," she said.

"Sorry, kiddo, but if you hurry and take a bath it might not be too late!" Puck advised.

The little girl rushed out of the kitchen and could be heard ru

"You shouldn't tease her like that," Sabrina said, vigorously washing her hands at the kitchen sink.

"Puck, do you know the Widow?" Gra

"Of course," Puck replied. "Queen of the crows."

"Go get her," Gra

"Why?" he asked. "Are we going to cook her?"

"Of course not," Gra

"Since when does the Trickster King act as your messenger, old lady?" the boy asked.

"Since he started living under her roof," Mr. Canis growled. He slammed his fist down hard on the kitchen counter, causing the sugar bowl to lose its lid. "This is serious business, boy. Now go!"

Puck eyed Canis stubbornly. "Villains do not run errands!"

The old man's eyes turned ice blue and a bit of his Wolf voice came out. "I'll show you a villain, Trickster."

Glistening wings sprang from Puck's back and flapped loudly. He flew quickly through the house and slammed the front door as he left.

Mr. Canis leaned against the kitchen doorway and tried to catch his breath. This was the first day he had been out of his room in three weeks and it hadn't been an easy one. If the old man was struggling with keeping his emotions in check, the last four hours had been an incredible test.

"Mr. Canis," Gra

"There may be more danger," Canis insisted.

"Old friend, I already have three children arguing all the time," Gra

The old man nodded and shuffled out of the kitchen.

"Who's the Widow?" Sabrina asked.

"Hans Christian Andersen wrote about her in 'The Nightingale.' She's an old friend," Gra

"So you don't think the frog-girl killed Mr. Grumpner?" Sabrina said.

"No, liebling, frogs don't make webs," the old woman said.

"Neither do birds."

"True. But the birds may have seen something."

When di

Between slurps of soup, the old woman jotted some notes in her notebook.

"Well, then, it looks like we've got two monsters on our hands, now," Gra

"An a ian ida," Daphne mumbled between bites of bread.

"What?'

Daphne swallowed. "And a giant spider," she repeated and then immediately stuffed another oversized bite into her mouth.

"I agree," Gra

"Don't forget the broken window," Sabrina said. "That's how it got inside."

"Maybe," Gra

"You don't think so?" the girl asked.

"The glass was all over the floor, so something came through that window, and by how spread out the shards of glass were, I'd say it came in fast."

"Urds, " Daphne mumbled, with a mouthful of soup.

"Right, the birds," Sabrina said. "The black feathers were underneath the window. But that's where I get confused. Why would birds have come into the room?"

"Birds eat spiders," Gra

"This book is just about everything ever written on giant monster spiders," Gra

Sabrina eyed the book, entitled Magical Mutations of Insects, Reptiles, and Kitties. She opened the cover and saw a crude drawing of a giant kitten chewing on several screaming farmers. She flipped to another page and a thin pamphlet fell out. She picked it up and examined it. The cover read Rumpelstiltskin's Secret Nature.

"What's this?" she said, leafing through it. The pages were filled with tiny, neat writing.

"I've been looking for that for ages," Gra

Daphne took the pamphlet. "Rumpel… rumpel… what's this say?"

"It's called Rumpelstiltskin's Secret Nature," her grandmother said, taking the booklet from the little girl. "Matilda wrote a lot about Rumpelstiltskin. You could say she was one of the few fairy-tale specialists in this family. She had dozens of theories on why Rumpelstiltskin kept trying to trick people out of their firstborn children. You should read it when you get a chance."

"I'll check this out later," Sabrina said, setting the mutations book aside.

"Anyone for more camel hump soup?" Gra

"This is made from a camel's hump?" Sabrina cried, dropping her spoon as images of a sweaty, flea-covered camel danced around in her mind. She'd seen one at the Bronx Zoo with her father and could still smell its rank breath years later. She felt sick.

"Actually, it's two-hump camel soup but I only use the second hump," Gra

The girls stared at the old woman as if she were playing an elaborate joke on them, but Sabrina could see from her expression that she was serious. Of course, Daphne clapped her hands happily, and cried, "I'll have more! And this time make sure there's some extra hump in there!"

Sabrina slowly pushed her nearly empty bowl away just as there was a knock on the front door. Gra

"Good afternoon, Widow," Gra

"Good afternoon to you, Relda Grimm," the crow croaked in a scratchy yet feminine voice. Daphne squealed in glee, but Sabrina's stomach did a flip-flop.

More talking animals, ugh.

"Do you know that little brat you sent plucked a feather out of my behind and laughed?" the crow continued.

"I am very sorry," Gra

"Well, the boy said it was important, so I did the bird thing. Normally, I'd take the seven down to the forty and get off at Miller Road, but you know that disaster with all the orange cones, and right now the eighteen is backed up for miles. At this time of night flying is really the quickest way," the bird croaked.