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other Christmas decorations, the ones who had been on the tree or scattered about the ballroom. With the number of mice present, I was wondering if Uncle Yvo had some sort of rodent issue and if he knew about it. That could be why he had transformed into an owl. I shook my head to get rid of those whimsical thoughts. I had to deal with what was happening now, even if it was a hallucination. It had to be a hallucination, because one or two of those mouse heads sort of looked like Rik when he was in a bad mood.
    I slid off the sofa, feeling useless since I was the only one not fighting. Even the lady dolls were fighting, fencing with the mice. From what I could tell while I dodged the fighting groups, I was the only one unarmed and the only one who didn’t know what was happening. And nothing like this had happened when I had snuck down here before, or I wouldn’t have done it this time. I was stunned by the violence. I looked for a safe place to hide, because I knew I was outclassed. I’d never been in a physical fight before. A lot of verbal ones, and being beaten up by Rik on occasion, but nothing like this. It was a war, and I had a feeling this fight had been going on for years, from the passion I saw in the fighters. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
    If I moved the wrong way, I could be killed. I wasn’t armed, not that I knew anything about swords, but I had to avoid being taken out by either side. I was kind of sure the dolls and the nutcracker were the good guys, but I had no proof of it. The mice might be the good guys.
    I decided the mice were the enemy when one of them attacked me, even if all I was doing was standing there. The mouse was about my size, and swinging a heavy sword, the kind found in all those sword and sorcery movies. He charged, pointing the sword in front of him as if he was going to skewer me like a shish kebab.
    I was saved by one of the dolls, a pretty thing in an empire dress with a katana. Her dress was tucked up so her legs were free, and I didn’t want to know where she had gotten her weapon. The doll neatly beheaded the mouse and kicked the body to one side without a hair moving in her elaborate braids or a speck of blood splashing on her dress.
    “Thanks,” I gasped, wondering if my heart was going to pound out of my chest.
    The doll curtsied, bowing her head, and then flicked the blood off her weapon.
    “My pleasure,” she said with a trace of a French accent. “To save the heart of the casse-noisette is an honor.”
    “The heart?” I asked her, because I had no idea what she was talking about. I had no idea what or who a “cass nwazet” was.
    She just smiled and dashed off to take care of someone else in trouble. I knew I should have been insulted that I was saved by a “girl,” but I wasn’t armed and she was pretty good with her katana. I just had to find someplace to hide, and then I would be fine. Unless the mice won, and then I didn’t know what I would do. Maybe hope Uncle Yvo ate them all in his owl form? Or just run like hell and hope none of them caught me?
    I looked over and realized the nutcracker was in trouble. He had been beaten back into a corner—he was trapped and had lost his sword. I looked around frantically, cursing the fact that I didn’t even have slippers to throw at the king. When I spied a small, heavy-looking crystal statue shaped like some sort of fruit, I drew back my arm and threw it at the Mouse King.
    “Asshole!” I screamed as I threw.
    I was amazed that I actually hit the mouse. I wasn’t good at throwing things, never having played baseball or anything like that. But my strike was true, hitting the Mouse King on his sword arm. The creature looked stunned and shifted his position to see who had been foolish enough to attack him.
    “You!” the Mouse King hissed, lumbering menacingly toward me. “I should have known you were back. Only you have this power!”
    I didn’t have any idea what he was talking about.