Read The Sisters Grimm: Book Eight: The Inside Story for Free Online

“It’s not right.”
    Puck snatched the bucket from Daphne. “I would love to see her melt,” he said.
    Daphne snatched the bucket back. “No one is melting!”
    “Give me back the bucket or you’re not invited to the wedding,” Puck cried.
    “OK, everyone calm down,” Sabrina said.
    “Should I go back out and try this again?” the Witch asked.
    “I won’t do it,” Daphne said.
    “Daphne, we can’t get to the door unless we do this,” Sabrina said. “And we can’t stay in this story. Mirror is in this book with our brother.”
    “I know that!” the little girl cried.
    “Here, I’ll make this easy on everyone. Give me the bucket,” the Witch said and tried to snatch it from Daphne. “I’ll pour it on myself.”
    “No!”
    “Kid, let go of the bucket,” the Witch demanded. “I want to melt! Really! I do!”
    “You don’t know what you want.”
    “I’m not kidding. Dump that water on me now.”
    “Forget it! You’re staying dry!”
    Just then, the Witch gave a mighty tug and the bucket fell onto her. Water splashed across her body and a hissing sound filled the room. The children could do nothing but watch as the woman’s body began to dribble onto the floor like butter in a saucepan. A green puddle collected at their feet.
    “Thank you sooooo much!” the Witch cried just before the smile on her face leaked down her dress.
    Daphne was breathing deeply, and her face had taken on a queasy green hue that rivaled the Witch’s complexion. “I am never going to get over that.”
    “I said it before and I’ll say it again, Oz rules!” Puck cried.
    Suddenly a door materialized out of thin air. Sabrina stepped over and circled around it. It was painted red and had a little brass knocker on it. It could have been the front door of a million different homes, only there was no physical reason the door should be standing in midair. But it was there, right in front of them, defying reason. Sabrina clasped the knob, turned it, and swung the door open. A blast of wind blew her hair, and all around her was a smell of a burning fireplace.
    “So this takes us to the next story?” Puck shouted over the wind.
    Sabrina nodded. “That’s what we were told.”
    “Where do you think it leads to?” Daphne asked.
    “I don’t know, but I hope it isn’t as annoying as Oz,” Sabrina said.
    “I hope it’s a place where people don’t melt,” Daphne grumbled.
    Sabrina took Daphne’s and Puck’s hands, and together they stepped through the door. There was a whooshing sound and Sabrina’s stomach dropped, and then they suddenly found themselves in a somber library. All the furniture was a dark cherrywood. Tightly packed books, some that looked as old as time, were displayed neatly on bookshelves soaring hundreds of feet into the air. A yellowing globe sat on a stone podium, and the head of some horrible, alien animal was mounted above a crackling fireplace. In the center of the room was a high-backed leather chair, and resting in the chair was a thin, elderly man with hair as white as freshly fallen snow. A pair of antique spectacles sat precariously on the tip of his long, pointy nose. He leafed through a book with one hand and patted the bulbous head of a strange, pink creature with the other. Sabrina recognized it as one of the scurrying creatures that attacked them on the road in Oz—the one the Tin Man had called a “reviser.” Its gnashing teeth and lack of eyes unnerved Sabrina.
    “I know the fairy: Puck, Trickster, Imp, the Pooka,” the old man said as he gestured to Puck. Then he turned his tiny eyes toward the girls. “You two I do not know.”
    “We’re Sabrina and Daphne Grimm,” Sabrina said.
    “Did you say ‘Grimm’?”
    “Yes, sir. What story is this?” Daphne asked.
    Sabrina looked down at her own clothes to see if she and her sister had new outfits, but both she and Daphne were wearing their own clothing again. Even the silver slippers were gone. She looked up and saw