“You’ll have to win favor with the fairy godmother another way!” I shout, sliding through the trolls’ legs and into the door.

Heath and Sasha are right behind me. Heath slams the door shut, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I can hear the trolls pounding on the door, but this baby has a dead bolt. Thank the fairies.

“May I help you?” someone asks, and I jump.

I turn around. We’re in a shoemaker’s shop. Boots hang from the ceiling, glass slippers shine from racks on the wall, and there is a distinct smell of shoe leather. A sign up above the doorway says COBBLER SHOES. A man wearing a very dirty apron walks toward us, looking confused as he shines a boot in his hands.

“Shouldn’t you kids be in school?” He smiles. “I’ve got one about your age. Goes to Fairy Tale Reform School. Any of you go there? You aren’t cutting class, are you?”

A siren begins to whirl outside, and we look at one another.

“I…” Sasha begins to say. “We…”

A figure moves out of the shadows. She’s dressed in a lilac gown with a skirt made of pink and purple rosebuds, and her hair is long and blond, much like Sasha’s. In her hand is a mini magical scroll. She sees us, and her small, round mouth curves into a perfect O.

“Sasha?” The girl rushes toward her. That’s when I notice the crown atop her head. “Are you all right? What in the name of Grimm are you doing here?”

Sasha falls into the older girl’s arms. “Rose!” She is sobbing so hard it’s hard to understand her. “You don’t know what’s happened. Olivina. Misunderstanding! Harpies. Fake news! Can’t trust her! She’s. She’s. Ev—”

“Shhhhh!” Rose hugs her tighter again as Sasha continues to gulp for air. “Don’t worry. Your big sister is here.” She glances over Sasha’s shoulder at the two of us. “Heathcliff! You’re here too? Your sister has been so worried.”

“Princess,” Heath says with a bow. “We’re in a spot of trouble. If you could—”

She cuts him off and looks at me. “And you must be Devinaria, Sasha’s roommate.” She cocks her head and smiles coyly. “Or should I say former?”

My mouth goes dry. She’s Princess Rose of the royal court. “Yes, I—”

There is more pounding on the back door. “Fugitives! Open up! We have you surrounded!”

The shopkeeper looks at Rose. “Princess, if you would like to take your young charges with you, you should leave through the front door at once. I’ll hold the others off.”

She smiles graciously. “Thank you for understanding, Mr. Cobbler. I’ll have my courier pick up my glass slipper order later this week. If anyone asks, you didn’t see me.”

He bows. “Of course, Princess.” He looks at the rest of us. “I know it’s hard, but stay out of trouble, littles. As my eldest could tell you, tussling with the Dwarf Police Squad is no picnic.”