Page 34 of Cinder's Adventure: Get Me To the Wedding!

The monster reeled back in surprise, then gave a little cough, emitting a blast of orange smoke from its nostrils.

Its eyes narrowed, staring at Cinder with rage.

A rage that quickly gave way to confusion.

Then bewilderment.

Then—something like wide-eyed joy.

And then, the monster began to change.

As Cinder stared, the Jabberwock’s tail shrank and disappeared. Taloned claws turned to skinny-fingered hands. Scales to pale skin.

In a matter of seconds, the ferocious beast became… a woman. Though not old, she seemed frail and ill, with dark spots beneath her eyes and pale skin stretched over sharp bones.

The huge man dropped the ax. “You—you’re back. You’re—” His voice wobbled. As he and the woman stared at each other, it seemed for a moment like they might embrace.

But then her wonder shifted to disgust. “You locked me up in a pumpkin!” she yelled in a hoarse voice. “And then you were going to start feedingpeopleto me! Actual people! I’m not a cannibal, Peter!”

He opened his palms wide. “I had to! You were rampaging all over the countryside. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t let you starve!”

Flushing pink, the woman gave a furious shake to her head, crossed her arms, then started stomping away toward the little cottage at the edge of the pumpkin patch. The man followed after her, spurting apologies that she seemed disinclined to listen to, at least anytime soon.

“Cath!” cried a female voice.

Cinder turned to see a tall blond girl emerging from behind an enormous pumpkin. Beside her stood a man in an executioner’s hood, carrying his own vicious-looking ax.

“Mary Ann! You’re all right!” cried Cath, the girl in red.

As the two embraced, the executioner transformed into a silky-winged raven and flew over to perch on the jester’s shoulder.

“A tale that long has ended in gore,” the Raven squawked, “shall thus be changed forevermore.”

“What happened?” asked Mary Ann, gaping up at the Rampion. “Whatisthat thing?”

Cress and Thorne waved cheerfully.

“I think,” said the jester, picking up his fallen hat and settling it back onto his head, “that hulking flying machine and the girl with the strange metal appendage might have just saved the day.”

“Jest,” breathed Cath, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “Did we—Do you think—” She swallowed hard, peering from the jester to the man in the top hat. “Did we escape our destiny? Hatta, did we beat the prophecy?”

“Not sure, love,” said the man in the top hat—Hatta. “But I know in all the drawings the sisters have done, I’ve never seen anything likethat.” He nodded toward the Rampion.

Cath let out a shaky sob. With hesitant steps, she and Jest drew near, taking hold of each other’s hands. “You’re alive,” she breathed.

He started to smile, as if he himself could hardly believe it. “And you’re not a queen.”

“And Hatta”—Cath turned toward their friend—“well, he’s still onlysort ofmad.”

Hatta winked.

“I don’t mean to sound petty,” said Mary Ann, crossing her arms, “but am I to understand that Peter Peter locked me up in a pumpkin shell and planned to feed me to the Jabberwock and we’re just going to let that go? Shouldn’t there be some sort of justice? A retaliation?”

Uncomfortable looks were exchanged.

“Well,” started Cath. “I suppose we could mention it to the king, but you know how he is—”

“Or,” said Jest, with a one-shouldered shrug, “perhaps we let bygones be bygones. You can come with us to Chess. You and Cath can start your bakery, and… just maybe, we’ll all get to live happily ever after?”

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