Page 4 of The Broken Mirror
“What is that place?” Filomena asks while Alistair and Gretel take deep breaths, hands on knees, beside them.
“Sherwood Forest,” says Jack grimly.
Gretel’s and Alistair’s heads snap up.
“Are you sure?” Alistair says.
“I’m certain,” Jack responds.
“I thought no one ever goes into Sherwood Forest?” says Gretel.
“Why? What is it?” Filomena asks. “I don’t think it’s covered in any of the Never After books I’ve read so far. But it sounds familiar.”
“It’s enchanted. No one knows much about it, but Gretel’s right that no one ever goes there. At least, that’s whatthey say. But it seems our little gang of thieves begs to differ.” Jack kicks some pebbles on the path.
There’s a chill in the twilit evening air; stars are just starting to glint above them. It’s growing late, and Filomena can’t tell if the cold is because they’re getting close to Snow Country or because of this mysterious forest and its creepy energy.
Jack looks out over the vast landscape ahead of them. To the left is Sherwood Forest; to the right a small village. Beyond is Snow Country and all that comes with it. “It looks like we’ll finally have some of that downtime Alistair was talking about. Let’s follow the path to the village for now.”
And with that they scramble down the hill, hoping to reach the village before the sun fully sets. An unspoken agreement lies among them: They aren’t sticking around to see whatever might come crawling out of Sherwood Forest.
CHAPTERTHREETHEPRINCESS AND THEPLEA
The village is so pretty, it should be on a postcard or a billboard advertising trips to Never After. (COME FOR THE MAGIC! STAY FOR THE GREEN VISTAS!) Filomena can’t believe her eyes as they walk around; it’s like a town right out of a medieval British folktale! (Shedoesread books outside the Never After series, you know.)
Gretel feels the same and claps her hands with glee asthey walk the charming village streets. “Oh, this town is so darling! Don’t you think, Filomena?”
“It’s very cute. It reminds me of a story, though I can’t think which one.”
“When you read so many, it must be hard to keep them all straight,” Jack teases.
“Don’t worry, the Never After books are still my favorites. Turns out the characters in them are pretty fun to hang out with,” Filomena says, bumping Alistair’s arm. Her eyes catch Jack’s. He smiles back, and she feels that delicious tingly feeling once more.
The buildings in the town are lovely low houses and storefronts on cobblestone roads. From the windows, golden candles cast a warm glow onto the streets.
“Yeah, sure, it’s cute all right, but you know what would bereallycute? A huge plate of steaming hot food and a big comfy bed with a hundred pillows,” says Alistair.
It’s true that they haven’t eaten in a long time now, and if they’ve learned anything from their travels together, it’s that finding yourself on the road and without shelter at night is a recipe for a sticky situation. (We’re looking at you, Rory Hexson, witch’s son!)
“It looks like there’s a pub right up there. Do you think we can get in?” Filomena says.
“Why wouldn’t we be able to go in?” Jack responds.
“Aren’t pubs like bars? Don’t they ID at the door?”
“What is thiseye deeyou speak of?” Alistair asks. “They check our eyes for something?”
“Oh right. Sometimes I forget that the rules of the mortal world don’t apply here,” Filomena says, slapping her palm to her forehead. “I guess being underage doesn’t really matter when you’re immortal.”
“I suppose that’s true,” says Jack. “It’ll be a useful place to rest, anyhow, and there are probably rooms for rent upstairs. Good idea, Filomena.”
The four friends take seats at a long wooden table inside the Merry Greenwood Tavern. Jack sits next to Filomena, and Gretel and Alistair sit across from them. The tavern is spilling with life: Rowdy locals are laughing and toasting with bubbling jugs of drink, and a band plays a fiddle and a lute in the corner. A group of well-dressed foxes and bears dance to the beat, and a bunch of pretty maidens with flowing jewel-tone dresses sit together at a table, chatting.
“I need to ask where those girls got such fabulous frocks,” Gretel says, looking over at the maidens. “Maybe we can stop tomorrow for some shopping?”
She looks hopefully at Jack, but a white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and a timepiece and holding a pen and paper hops up onto their table before Jack can respond. Filomena stifles a gasp. She supposes a rabbit waiter is not the strangest thingshe’s seen since stepping foot in Never After—not by far. Foxes and bears are dancing over by the band, after all. But isn’t thisthefamous White Rabbit of Wonderland?
“Welcome, weary travelers!” the White Rabbit says in a thick Cockney accent. “What nosh can I get for you this evening?”
