The Unfairest of Them All by Shannon Hale
It was like watching a silent play or an eerily real three-dimensional movie. The smoky memories of the other students entered the Treasury, shouting silently to one another, romping around.
Kitty appeared suddenly in front of Ashlynn, who was startled and bumped into Hunter. Hunter backed up, the sword in his hand cracking the glass in a display case. Sparrow nocked an arrow, aiming at King Arthur’s shield on the wall. Dexter flying on a broomstick wobbled to avoid the arrow and bumped into the helmet of a giant’s suit of armor. Sparrow’s arrow grazed against the falling helmet, knocking the arrow off course and into the cracked display case, breaking the glass further.
At the same moment, Blondie tripped over the cape she was wearing, knocking into Lizzie, who stumbled into Duchess, who was puppeting Humphrey Dumpty on Pinocchio’s strings. Duchess glided out of the way, letting Lizzie bang into the display case. The tiny unicorn inside fell off its pedestal.
The Merry Men had found the instruments, and one played a horn so loudly the sound lengthened the glass break even more, just as Briar and Cedar skipped by. Helga tossed a jug to Gus. It nearly hit Cedar, but Dexter caught it in time. His elbow grazed the case, and the unicorn fell all the way out. Daring moved to heroically help his sister Darling over the broken glass and nudged the unicorn with his foot, sending it across the floor.
Almost every person’s foot touched the unicorn as he or she ran around the Treasury, unknowingly knocking it this way and that until it came to rest before the giant helmet just as Maddie entered.
She never even touched the unicorn as she picked a few things off the floor, stuffed them in her pockets, and climbed atop the helmet. She lifted her arms happily. The image froze and disappeared.
For a few moments, everyone was quiet.
“Baba Yaga—?” the headmaster began.
“It was the real deal,” Baba Yaga said, tasting the air. She turned her stony gaze on Raven and raised one gray eyebrow. “An Irrefutable Evidence spell. Impossible to fake.”
The headmaster stared at Raven, too, eyes blazing, as if he didn’t know whether to be angry or afraid.
“It seems to me,” Mr. Badwolf growled, “that if you were to banish those responsible for the broken Uni Cairn, you would need to banish nearly every student in this room except Madeline Hatter.”
“And all those destinies would be banished with them,” said Apple.
The headmaster’s frown was so severe his mustache tilted down with it so that he seemed to have two frowns.
“But… she was clearly stealing items from the Treasury,” he said, “and that alone—”
“Um, pardon me, Headmaster Grimm,” said Apple, “but perhaps you could ask her why she took those things?”
He blew out his cheeks but nodded and turned to Maddie. “Why?” he said.
“I thought it was the Swappersnatch Gyre, of course!” said Maddie. “Everyone stealing for fun, and all the hiding and hunting and finding that follows. In Wonderland we do it every spring.”
Lizzie Hearts nodded. “I declare Madeline Hatter is correct!”
“It’s how we play,” Kitty said with a smile just as large as the headmaster’s frown.
“In that case—” Headmaster Grimm said.
“Finally!” Baba Yaga interrupted. She pointed a crooked finger at Maddie, and the chains sizzled and fell from her wrists. “I’ve got better things to do than banish a little girl to that pirate-infested island. My office has been exceedingly grumpy for some reason. Excuse me, I have to go soothe a walking cottage.”
Baba Yaga stormed out.
The cottage…
Raven began to think something important, but the thought was chased from her head by a furious-faced Headmaster Grimm.
“Just how did you manage to cast a level thirty-eight spell?” he asked, his shoulders tense and rising to his ears.
“My mom taught me,” she said truthfully. “After all, she wants me to grow up to be just like her.”
The headmaster’s eyes narrowed, but he’d have to assume her mother taught her the spell years ago. After all, Raven had no access to a mother locked away in a spell-repellent cell.
“Hmph,” he said and stalked off.
And suddenly Raven was jounced by a quick and hard hug.
“I knew it!” said Maddie. “I just knew you were still my best friend till The End.”
“There were a few times this week I did think it was actually The End,” said Raven. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I thought silence was a condition of the spell. I know you must have felt like a pile of giant toenail clippings when I ignored you.”
For some reason, Apple shuddered.
“Think no more gloomy fussy gussy thoughts about it.” Maddie hugged her again. “Thank you.”
Everyone began congratulating Maddie, Sparrow loudly taking all the credit for her miraculous rescue.
Raven received another surprise hug, this time from Apple.
“I was confident, Raven!” she said. “So many times the last couple of days, I worried that I didn’t know how to be a leader anymore. But I smiled, and I looked, and I had ideas, and I led them! And you were so amazing—the spell, and—Wow! We did it! Maddie is safe!”
“The Treasury looks amazing,” said Raven. “You seriously rock for pulling it off.”
“We both seriously, enchantingly, perfectly rock,” said Apple. Her voice dropped lower. “You know, there were moments I was so afraid she was just trying to trick us. I had a plan B prepared for when the spell backfired and caused some horrible havoc. But it worked!”
“What was your plan B?”
“Hmm?” said Apple. “Oh, subvert the banishment route through the wishing well. I thought maybe I could hack into the travel app and change her route from Neverland to my home castle. Watching Humphrey on the Mirror Network gave me some ideas. It wasn’t a certain thing, but no worries! Now I don’t have to even try!”
“And it worked, even though we did get a lot of help,” said Raven.
“Yeah, no offense, but your mom’s advice about not depending on anyone but yourself was kind of evil.”
Raven laughed.
“We would have completely failed without all our friends!” said Apple. “The Mad Hatter, Ashlynn, Gala, the pixies—”
“Cedar and Nevermore—”
“—Briar—”
“—and Cerise,” said Raven. “And Cupid, too.”
“Ooh, and Humphrey and Dexter—”
“Her…”
“And then practically everyone helped me with the Treasury,” said Apple.
“I know she’s evil, but she seemed like she really did want me to succeed,” Raven whispered. “She’s waiting to hear about the victory.”
Apple froze. “You didn’t leave the mirror on, did you? Surely, you at least put it in standby mode.”
“Should I have? I mean, she can’t escape. Oh, I was thinking earlier. Baba Yaga’s cottage? We didn’t need to use all the ingredients for the spell after all. The egg, nor the tea, either, now that I think of it. It’s funny that—”
Raven stopped. Apple seized her hand. Her own was ice cold.
“The tea and the egg,” Apple whispered. “They’re still in our room? With the mirror?”
Raven suddenly wanted a weapon in hand. She grabbed something long, skinny, and gold from a nearby pedestal. Apple was still gripping her other hand, and she pulled. Together, they ran.
They ran through the middle of the crowd of students and muddle of faculty. They ran down the hall, their heels clacking against stones.
“Will o’ the wisps!” Apple said. “How did I not realize? Will o’ the wisps move between worlds, see? So drinking will o’ the wisp tea imbues someone with the ability to cross over borders!”
“Borders like the one between our world and mirror prison,” said Raven. “And the cottage! It’s bigger on the inside than on the out. Even big enough for a woman to climb inside. Besides, it’s an enchanted cottage, born with chicken l
“So if the hutling hatched and drank the will o’ the wisps tea…”
“It might be empowered to cross over through our viewing mirror and into actual mirror prison,” said Raven as they raced up some stairs. “And once inside…”
“Your mother would be able to climb inside the hutling, and its natural freedom would carry them out of the prison!”
“And back into our world.”
“We’d be banished for meddling with one of the Great Glass Prisons!” said Apple.
“Forget that,” said Raven. “Think what my mother would do to Ever After!”
Apple sped up.
They slammed open their dorm door.
From inside the mirror, the Evil Queen was chanting. The words came out as nonsense, and with each one spoken she winced as if feeling the stings of the spell repellent. When she saw Raven and Apple, she began chanting faster.
A long, thin line like steam trailed from the mirror through the room and into the cup of tea. The heat from the tea was warming the egg, steamy tendrils rising, wrapping around its bright spotted shell. Already there were cracks.
“Get the egg!” Raven said.
Raven and Apple ran forward. Raven leaped to tackle it, but while she was still in midleap, the egg burst. A cottage the size of a large dog wobbled forward on its thin chicken legs, leaving Raven to land on a pile of shell shards. The hutling shook itself, made a raspy screech, and started to run.
“Get it!” Raven said. “Stop it!”
The cottage sniffed, inhaling with an open door. It trotted over to the cup of tea and with a peck from its front door took a sip from the cup.
“No!” said Apple. She’d pulled the satin bedspread from her bed and ran at the hutling, leaping onto it.
“Ha-ha!” said Apple, trapping the little cottage beneath the bedspread.
A rip. The hutling’s door gnawed a hole through the cloth and leaped through.
The queen’s chanting had stopped. Now she was calling.
“Here, boy! Come here, boy! That’s a good hutling. Look at what a good hutling! I have some yummy treats for you! Just come through the mirror.”
The hutling paused as if to listen. It started toward the mirror.
“No, you don’t,” said Raven, intercepting it. She was still holding whatever she’d grabbed from the Treasury, and she swung it, missing the hutling.
“Raven!” said the Evil Queen. “Stop it at once!”
“Sorry, Mom,” said Raven.
The queen took a breath and her voice softened. “Raven, darling, why can’t you help your own mother?”
Like its parent, the hutling did not like to be chased. It squawked and ran faster and faster, dodging Apple and Raven. They leaped at it, landing in a dog pile on its roof, but the little hut kept running, leaving the girls clinging to its rain gutters. And still the hutling ran. It was small, but it was as solid as a full-grown house, and in its speed, it left destruction in its wake. Apple’s bed was demolished. Her dresser reduced to firewood. Wardrobe knocked over with a crash. Clothing ripped and flying in the air like confetti.
“No,” Apple said with a sob.
Next the cottage dragged them through Raven’s part of the room, destroying everything it touched. Raven winced at the loss of her bed and wardrobe, but ahead was her vanity and its hidden keyboard.
“No! Stop!”
Raven dug her heels into the floor, trying desperately to slow the hutling, but it barreled ahead. A crash and a musical twang, and Raven’s beautiful keyboard was nothing more than scrap wood and metal.
Raven let go, rolling into the keyboard debris. A single sob escaped her lips. Then she turned her gaze to her mother, still calling from the mirror.
“Come here, boy! Come on!”
“No!” Raven yelled.
Her mother startled, the words drying in her mouth.
Raven didn’t dare touch the glass but felt around the back of the mirror, trying to find an off switch.
“Don’t let go, Apple!” Raven yelled.
“Ack, ow, uhhh…” Apple said, dragging behind the hutling.
Raven was about to drop the tool to better feel for the off switch, but then she recognized what she was really holding in her hand: her mother’s own scepter that had been on display in the Treasury. It had no magic and yet was a symbol of queenly power—heavy, golden, magnificent.
Raven walked to the front mirror and raised the scepter up.
“No!” Her mother’s beautiful face twisted with rage. “I thought you were finally evil, Raven!”
“You took away Maddie’s Wonderland,” said Raven. “I’m sorry, Mom. I respect your right to make your own path, but when your choices hurt people, you have to face the consequences. You need to stay where you are.”
“I love you!” her mother shouted.
Part of Raven’s heart cracked, but she gripped the heavy gold stick even tighter.
The mirror was the only unbroken thing left in the room. Raven smashed it with her mother’s scepter.
“Me too,” she whispered.
Narrator! Do you know where Raven went? And Apple? They were here a minute ago, but I can’t hear you telling their story anymore, so they must be gone.
Yes, they left, Maddie.
Just a sec, Cedar, I’m talking to the Narrator. Um, what was that?
I said they left, but I’m sure they’ll be back.
They’ve been so… so… just so wonderlandiful! I wish I could give them a splendiferous thank-you gift. I know what Raven might like—a girls’ day: tea party, shopping, and going to listen to that new band that’s playing at Looking Glass Beach tonight. But I don’t know what Apple would like.
Well…
You know, don’t you? Oh, please, tell me, please please please please please…
I can’t, Maddie! I took a Narrator’s oath not to interfere!
That’s okay. I understand. I guess I’ll just stand here and sing all three hundred and sixty-four verses of the Wonderlandian song “If I Snoodled on a Poodle” while I try to think of the perfect gift for Apple. Oh, if I snoodled, snoodled, snoodled on a poodle with a noodle, would you groodle, groodle, groodle with an oodle of hot strudel—
You really are a clever thing, you know that. Look, if you go to their dorm room, you might get a good idea on your own. But you didn’t hear that from me, okay?
Narrator, I’m going to give you a legible kiss. Smooch!!!
APPLE KEPT CLINGING TO THE HUTLING. The roof was made of thatch, or fur, really. She could feel the warm skin beneath. Its windows opened and shut like eyelids, its hard, round body straining to keep running while pulling Apple along for the ride. Even so, it hadn’t slowed at all and showed no intention of stopping. Apple imagined herself dragging behind the tiny cottage all day, and the next, and years from now, still holding on, bumping along behind. It had already destroyed her room. Perhaps it would tear apart all of Ever After, too.
Apple whimpered. But Raven had said, “Don’t let go,” and she didn’t want to let Raven down. Or Maddie. Or anyone, ever.
So she clung on.
She heard a crash as Raven broke the mirror. A moment later the small cottage in Apple’s arms began to rise into the air. Apple swallowed a scream and let go, dropping to the floor.
“The levitation spell worked!” Raven said, her hands held up, glowing purple, her brow tight with concentration. “I can’t believe it didn’t backfire, but I wouldn’t trust it to last long.”
The cottage hung from nothing, its little chicken legs fighting the air, its door and window blinds wide open.
“We need a leash,” Apple said. “Oh wait, I’ve got it!”
Apple ran to her dresser, but in its place was a pile of wood and heaps of clothes torn and full of splinters. Apple whimpered again. S
It’s just stuff, Apple told herself. It doesn’t matter really. You don’t have to be perfect, and neither does… neither does your… your perfect, beautiful room!
Apple wiped her eyes, trolled through the mess, and pulled out a woven yellow scarf. “It was made from Holly’s hair! Super-strong, magical, the perfect leash.”
Apple tied it around the middle of the cottage, and at once the hutling calmed. Kept from running, it seemed to relax. Its blinds lowered in its front windows, its legs buckled, and it began to snooze, its front door clacking gently against its threshold.
Apple plucked the hutling from the air, and Raven released the levitation spell.
“This little fella needs to go home,” said Apple.
“Yeah, wherever that home might be running around at the moment,” said Raven.
Through the castle, Apple carried the hutling under a torn piece of her bedspread, petting its thatch head. It was just a newborn cottage, after all.
Outside, Raven tracked Baba Yaga’s office to the sports fields. Apple set the hutling down. The girls ran behind a tree and watched as the parent cottage discovered the baby. There was much squawking and slamming of front doors. Soon the big cottage was running around the field as if in pure joy, the hutling nuzzling down on its parent’s roof, cozy beside the chimney.
“You know, when I took that egg,” said Raven, “I didn’t think it through, how there was a baby inside who would miss its parent. I guess there are a lot of things I don’t think through.”
Apple nodded. Her queenly instinct perked up, and she opened her mouth to offer a poetic speech about a homecoming, the bond between parent and child abodes, the beauty of a baby domicile, or some such. But an image of their wrecked dorm room flashed in her mind. Her chin quivered, warning her that if she spoke, she would cry. It was a silly thing to be so upset. After all, Maddie was free! And the Evil Queen wasn’t! Still… her grandmother’s antique chair… the cuckoo clock the village children had given her… the red dress her mother had stitched without any bird help at all… all her precious things…