"No, Elvis. We can't go out today," Relda said gently to the Great Dane at her feet, or rather, her waist. The huge dog groaned in an irritated way; he seemed like a great big child who had been denied the opportunity to play on a sunny day.
Sabrina and Daphne sat in their respective places on the couch, immersed in the most illogical books known to man. Or at least a man who didn't live in Ferryport Landing. Their latest case involved tracking magical weapons for Charming's beaten and under-supplied army in the huge war against the devious, despicable Scarlet Hand. They had read of everything from genies' lamps to potions that sounded like something straight out of a Harry Potter book. However, few items of actual use were to be found.
Sabrina wasn't someone who particularly enjoyed Everafter detective work, but in this case she held deep purpose. She had not forgiven that scoundrel Mirror, who was still inside the Book of Everafter, and didn't plan on it anytime soon. The Hand had torn Daphne's and her life apart, taking her parents and even her small brother (still in the hands of Mirror), and she had a tight grudge against the scoundrels the Grimms were fighting. She hadn't stopped researching for a moment since William Charming, aka the Handsome Prince, Prince Charming, and ex-Mayor of Ferryport Landing, had sent his urgent request for the Grimm family to put their skills to work and find some major butt-kicking equipment. Sabrina had jumped at the chance to be of any specific use to the top secret Everafter militia.
Daphne, however, was not of the longest attention span to grace an eight year old, and was tired of research, bored and cooped up inside the house. Granny Relda, Veronica, Henry, Uncle Jake, and even Puck and Sabrina had reminded her time and time again that she was to remain hidden in the house. Not only did the Hand lurk around unknown corners but the weather was bad, too.
As Relda walked upstairs to join the other adults and Puck in afternoon napping, Daphne stood up, stretched, yawned, and trudged to the hall. She considered joining the rest of the family and dozing off, because there seemed to be nothing else to do, but then realized that an opportunity lay in front of her eyes.
The front door was right there.
No one else was interested in her whereabouts for the moment.
Elvis was tense, too, so she decided that a few minutes out there in the yard with Elvis wouldn't kill her.
She silently swung the door ajar.
*
The Sheriff of Nottingham sat, camouflaged by the cover of the dead February trees. The Scarlet Hand had one mission: escape Ferryport Landing. And without the Grimms dead, that wasn't happening. So naturally, his biggest priority was to catch and execute all the Grimms. But the nearly impenetrable spells guarding the family dwelling on that isolated hill were keeping his whole military force back, so while he worked on a solution with evil Mayor Heart and the Master, they were off attempting to hold off that stupid Charming's own forces. He staked out the house day and night, morning and afternoon, breakfast through dinner.
The monotony of the stakeout was interrupted by the bright red door finally opening. Nottingham's senses were at full alert, the angry scar down his face pulsing with anticipation. He let loose a cruel, cartoon-ish smile, not unlike that of an evil circus clown. Well, hello there! The littlest of the Grimm brats, the one with the dark braided hair, was descending the steps into the wintry mud.
It was all falling into place. Retrieve the girl, use her as bait, trap and murder the Grimms. Yes, Nottingham was a man with a plan.
*
Daphne sloshed through the mud as Elvis lifted his leg to relieve himself. Suddenly, though, he lowered his leg slowly and sniffed the wind. Daphne noticed him baring his teeth and heard him let loose a low, deadly growl, which was not a habit of his. She felt a twinge of nervousness, an anxious warning deep in her very skin that seemed to herald the arrival of evil in her vicinity.
She called Elvis frantically, racing toward the porch steps on her short, stocky little legs. Before she had both feet on the first stair, she heard a piercing, bone-chilling bark and the sound of Elvis's collar jingling.
She felt a sharp pain on the back of her head, a horrible, piercing ache for one second, and then she was limp, shrouded in oblivion.