Author's Note: This is an idea I had for a fairy-tale AU. I've incorporated the Young Justice characters into various fairy-tales; Black Canary is the Swan princess, M'gann is Riding Hood, Green Arrow is Robin hood, the Tower of Fate is Rapunzel's Tower etc. I'm not sure if I'll continue this, but if anyone has any feedback based on the first chapter, I'd be happy to hear it.

The words felt heavy on his tongue as he chanted, each breath accentuated with precise enunciation. A sheen of sweat glossed over his blue-tinted skin, and his throat felt raw from repeating the incantations for hours on end. The words sounded strange to his own ears, as any word does when you repeat it too often. Yet despite his intense focus, the task of invoking higher powers was starting to feel almost monotonous, at best.

He sighed in between breaths, just a soft expel of air. Patience did not become the witch boy. He continued chanting, when a second voice broke through the air. The voice was low and rough, and cut through the crackling sparks of energy like a knife.

"It's gone," a voice laced with anger shattered his thoughts. "They've let the book fall into the hands of a common thief."

The witch boy raised his head, and had anyone else interrupted his spell, he would've set their blood to a simmering boil with the flick of his wrist. "You made me lose concentration," he spoke instead, his voice high and child-like as he pouted.

But the towering man merely scowled, his scarred face contorting into a look of refined hatred. "Our partner has proved inadequate at guarding the book."

Klarion curled his lip in disgust. Yet instead of losing his head, he floated past Vandal Savage to scoop up his familiar from the carpeted floor. He stroked the tabby cat absentmindedly as he responded, "then get it back."

Savage grimaced as if he'd tasted something sour. "It would seem that the low-life has already used the book to cross into another dimension."

"Which dimension? Is it the purple one?"

"No. It's the one built around the Tower of Fate."

Klarion gave him a deadpan stare and said in almost lethargic voice, "That Realm only has baby magic." Still, the Tower of Fate was a locus of power, ideal for casting banishing spells and, more importantly, ruination curses. Klarion narrowed his eyes as a thought struck him. "They're going to destroy the book."

"So it would seem," Savage answered darkly.

Klarion's familiar meowed, and Klarion cast him a grin. "That's right, Teekl," he cackled, "I don't need the book to control the weak-minded pawns. If I can't cast the spell, I'll get someone else to." His eyes gleamed red, the color of red-hot embers, as a dark sort of satisfaction settled on his chest.

Savage nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. "Then let us begin."

The earth trembled and shuddered beneath them, pulsating with warmth and thrumming with life, as an ancient power seeped through its soil. Klarion gave the window a half-glance, drinking in the whorls of ink black clouds that were now undulating across the blood-red horizon. The calm in the storm had ended.

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M'gann's feet fought for purchase as she stumbled down the rocky terrain. Gravel bit into her side as she hit the ground with an audible oomph! Her bag slipped from her fingertips, sliding further down the rocky slope. Groaning inwardly, M'gann folded herself into a sitting position and quickly assessed her wounds. Smears of crimson percolated through the fabric of her cloaked outfit, but none of her cuts and injuries were anything bordering serious, despite her breath having been knocked out of her.

M'gann righted her hood, which had fallen slightly askew at her fall. She brushed at her gravel embedded cheek, pausing to examine herself. Her skin was a pale shade of green, a feature that had earned scathing remarks from the inhabitants of her realm; including being called "the wicked witch". M'gann could change her appearance at will; a rare type of metamorphosis, though her powers always left her drained, and more powerful sorcerers could see through the glamor.

Inhaling sharply, she made to grab her bag, but someone else had already lifted it from the ground.

"What's this?"

'That's mine, give it back,' she tried to say, but the words were garbled, caught somewhere between English and her native tongue. "Mine," she finally choked out, but her voice was too rough, too scratchy to be hers.

"What's in it?" the boy asked. M'gann met his eyes with a scowl. She had no time for simple-minded children. Though there was nothing about him that appeared "simple". His green eyes sparkled with knowledge, and there was something else, something hidden beneath his impish grin and innocent face. M'gann's jaw clenched as she tried to determine what it was about the boy that was so unsettling.

Without waiting for an answer, he opened her burlap bag and pulled out an embellished book with gold-leafed pages. Along the spine of the leather-bound book ran a column of runes, and the words themselves were written in blood red ink. He licked his lips. "This looks like it's worth a lot of money."

And just like that it dawned on M'gann what was so starkly different about this boy. Hidden in the hollows of his face, the shadows of his eyes, was pain. And the raw sort of wisdom that went hand-in-hand with losing someone you love or living your entire life in the shadow of a goodbye.

M'gann's expression softened, and she said in a honeyed voice, "it's worth the world to me. Could you please hand to to me? I'm injured," she added with a wince, "and it hurts to move."

The boy nodded, strands of red hair, almost the exact shade of M'gann's, falling into his eyes. He returned M'gann's smile, before turning and running down the slope, leaving with her book.

"Hey!" She let out an indignant cry, before stumbling to her feet. "Get back here!"

She was dizzy. The thought hit her as she swayed. This wasn't the sort of dizziness where your vision blurred slightly and you felt unbalanced, as if you were standing on one foot. No, this was the type of dizziness where the whole world was spinning. M'gann lurched forwards, dimly aware of the fact that the sky was bending to kiss the earth as the two overlapped.

She saw a smudge of green and red at the base of the craggy slope, just barely distinguishing the boy's evergreen colored clothes and reddish wave of hair.

Cradling her head with her hands she slowly inched forwards, blinking the world into focus. The book was open in the boy's hands, and his fingers were dangerously close to a page.

"No!" the desperation oozed through her normally level tone.

A thick cloud of dust fluttered from the pages, and the heady scent of old paper was palpable. Abandoning her concern for her own well-being, M'gann careened forwards just as the book enveloped the two of them. Her body screamed from the added exertion, and the sting of her cuts and gashes transcended into an entirely different form of agony.

With a shuddering sigh, the rocky soil, approaching forests, and even the cloudy sky blinked out of existence. The brief sensation that her organs were trying to escape her body in different directions overwhelmed M'gann, before she and the boy landed in a new realm.

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Using a pillow of dry leaves, Artemis settled onto the dank earth, dropping her bow and quiver unceremoniously. Clumps of dirt streaked through her long, blonde hair and beads of sweat slipped down her face, mingling with dried blood and tear tracks. She laid down as if preparing for sleep, but couldn't bring herself to close her eyes, despite that they were as leaden as her muscles.

She kept seeing that ghostly grin; a flash of brilliant white teeth that was more chilling than a frown or a glare would've been. But Jade Nguyen always smiled. Her face was her mask, and she never let any of her emotions show through. Artemis had trouble wrapping her mind around that. Even when she'd told her sister that she was leaving Wonderland, Jade had only grinned. But Jade was the one who had left Artemis; not the other way around. Despite their upbringing, it was Jade who had decided to desert her to make a name for herself. It was Jade who had decided to become an assassin for hire. It was Jade who had worked for the contemptuous Red Queen, and earned herself the title "Cheshire".

Artemis had simply watched as her sister, and only friend, traveled deeper down that narrow path. And perhaps the fact that she'd stood by and watched it happen, was why she was riddled with guilt.

Now, though, she was too tired to cry. And what good was crying, anyways? Tears were such useless things. Pretty, she supposed, on the right face. But when Artemis cried, it was usually paired with puffy eyes and gross sobbing. Pretty, but useless. Kind of like her.

"Excuse me," an amicable voice called, "but is this part of the forest already claimed?"

Artemis jerked upright. "Uh, no?"

He chuckled lightly, and it was then that she realized the man was joking. "I'm Robinhood," he greeted her with a tip of his green hat. "Otherwise known as Oliver Queen."

"I'm A-" Artemis choked on her own words. It was no secret that Artemis Crock and Jade Nguyen were related, but she had no idea whether or not this was a common fact in other realms. "I'm... Alice," she decided finally.

"Alice, huh?" The man, Oliver, Artemis reminded herself, stroked his goatee. "So tell me, Alice, what exactly are you doing out here in the woods alone?"

The portal she'd used to escape Wonderland had dropped her off in the middle of the woods. Not that she could exactly say that. Still, it was better to be on the offensive, rather than the defensive. "Why do you care?" she snapped, mentally face-palming herself.

Oliver shook his head. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

Artemis held her breath.

"You've come to the woods to find me! You want to join me and my merry men on our escapades."

"I do?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "But before I give you my consent, I have to ask if you know how to use that bow?"

Artemis's hand instinctively wrapped around it. "Yeah. My dad taught me."

"Great!"

Yeah, she thought darkly. Great.