How do you divide four things among eight things? You cut each thing in half. How about four things among a hundred things? It depends on the thing, of course. If it's four doughnuts, you break them into a hundred tiny pieces (good luck with that). But what if the things to be divided are four people?

The children reluctantly entered the abbey. The crowd parted to let them through, every eye staring, every mouth whispering, every limb tense, wanting to grab yet holding back in the presence of the Snow Queen. She strutted smoothly with her head high, leading the assembly to the black suite. Here she halted, spun on her heels, and addressed them in a formal tone.

"We, the badlings of Mad Tome, intend to hold a council for the purpose of determining your future placement."

Bells stole an uneasy glance at Grand. He shrugged, nodding at Rusty who was gawking at Peacock.

Peacock had somewhat acquainted himself with the idea of his change and was determined to appear as if it didn't bother him in the slightest. "No need to decide anything about me," he said smugly, "I'm going back to Dracula's page, hunting." He wet his lips.

"You don't get to go anywhere until we vote," stated the Queen. "It's our vote that will determine your future."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"Do you absolutely have to vote?" asked Bells, alarmed. "Wouldn't it be better to let us choose the characters we get to replace? I mean, scientifically speaking, if you let us do that, the success rate—"

"That's enough!" shouted the Queen and waved a hand.

It acted a signal.

A throng of burbling, jostling bodies unceremoniously shoved the children through the door and pushed them into four black chairs that were set up in the middle of the equally black room with glowing red windows. People and creatures alike bedecked every sitting surface: sofas, ottomans, settees, divans, windowsills, dressers, wardrobes, commodes. When no more spots were left, fights broke out. Some tried sitting on each other's shoulders, others settled on the floor. At last, they quieted, all eyes on the children.

Bells recognized a few of them, like the caterpillar and Alice and the Red Death and, according to Grand's description, the scary-looking Headless Horseman; but most were unfamiliar, their faces hostile and grim, their voices murmuring in subdued displeasure—

"She broke the rules!"

"Did you hear that? One already has been claimed!"

"Keep it quiet!"

"They know, someone told them."

"But who would?"

"Does it matter?"

"They're ours!"

"I want that one."

"You don't get to pick!"

"Get your hands off me!"

"You stepped on my foot!" 

—and so on, like a packed classroom before the start of a lesson.

"They're treating us like prisoners," said Bells.

"Looks like it," agreed Grand.

Rusty made no comment. He kept staring at Peacock, who finally snapped his jaws right in his face and made him jump.

"Whoa, dude, cut it out!"

Peacock sneered, revealing a pair of fangs. "What happened, Rusty? What's wrong? Don't you want to beat me up? Go ahead, I'm not stopping you."

Rusty edged away.

"Are you scared?"

"Nope."

"Come on then, do it."

"I would've," said Rusty fiercely, "but I don't raise my hands at girls."

Peacock drew back as if punched.

Rusty sniggered.

"Stop it." Bells stomped on his foot, but her face lit up with a smile of immense satisfaction.

The murmur in the room abruptly ceased. All eyes shifted from the children to the sofa directly across them. The Snow Queen looked down on the badlings who occupied it, waiting for them to scramble out of the way. That done, she lowered herself in the middle, to her right Prince Prospero, to her left the ghost of Bluebeard, the ghost of Blackey perched on his shoulder, the ghosts of dead wives shimmering behind.

"I ask everyone to be quiet," began the Queen.

There was no need—the silence was absolute.

"We have gathered here—"

"I've suffered the most damage!" twanged a voice.

"Who dares to interrupt me?"

No one replied.

"Show yourself!"

Prodded by his neighbors, the Headless Horseman rose, holding out his head. It grimaced, moving its lips and tongue in an exaggerated fashion. "I've been traumatized. The consequences are dire. I cannot perform my story without being terrified of a new badling stalking me across the page. It is my right to demand compensation! I claim the fat one." He pointed at Grand. "He terrorized me by following me around. He deserves to suffer in my place."

Grand couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I terrorized you?"

"That's entirely unfair," said the caterpillar languidly, taking the hookah out of his mouth and breathing out a ring of smoke. "If anyone can claim him, that'd be me. I've been first in line for years, according to our last assembly. Bluebeard, you decreed it. Have you no record—"

"Bluebeard is a ghost," interrupted the Queen. "Whatever he decreed is no longer valid."

"Besides," continued the caterpillar, in an unhurried manner, "he managed to escape my pupa. It is a blow to my self-esteem. I've been working hard to morph into a genuine caterpillar, and I must tell you, it's not easy. You get to walk across your pages, but not me. These pitiful stumps you call legs provide me little locomotion aside from crawling and creeping and on a rare occasion—"

"Silence!" screamed the Queen. "Anyone else who speaks out of order will be dismissed, therefore forfeiting their right to claim a new badling. Need I repeat it?" She glared at them, fearsome in her fury.

There was a surge of whispers and a few angry glances, but no one openly challenged her. Not yet.

"Our time is short," intoned the Queen. "We must proceed to vote."

Applause erupted. Someone stomped. Someone whistled.

She raised her hand for calm. "But before we do, may I present to you a gift, a gift we've been waiting for, for years." She paused, letting her words sink in, then continued in a tone of one disclosing an important secret. "A way for all of us to go home, every...single...badling."

The room grew still.

Stunned faces watched her with breathless anticipation.

"The badling by the name of Grand, stand up and tell us what you had in mind," commanded the Queen. "Tell us about your method."

Everyone's attention shifted to Grand. He blinked. "Method?"

"Your method to destroy Mad Tome," snapped the Queen. "We want to hear it."

"It's not a method, it's just an idea. But...how do you know about it? I haven't told anyone except my friends..."

The ghost of the little black hen quickly flew up and hid behind the sofa.

"I have my ways," said the Queen. "Go on. Don't keep us waiting."

"I bet it was Blackey," muttered Bells. "I bet he spied on us, the little snitch."

Grand shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Um," he began, "I thought if we could somehow get the ducks at the pond to find Mad Tome and rip it—" His expression brightened with a sudden idea. "Or we could just walk along the dirt wall and get out by the pond and then we'd be able to destroy it for sure."

Bells stared at him.

Grand turned pink. "I mean, it'd be better if we did it because ducks are not really interested in books, they're more interested in worms, or doughnuts." He sighed.

"Wait a minute!" someone shouted. "What do you mean, go back to the pond? You want us to let you go? Just like that?"

This was picked up by another cry. "Look at the vampire! Look! That's supposed to be a boy! One of Dracula's sisters claimed him without our vote!"

A roar of outrage erupted from all sides—

"He said back to the pond!"

"They're planning an escape!"

"She bit him, I heard it from Don Quixote, he saw it with his very eyes."

"Seize them! Seize them at once!"

"Have we waited for nothing? Who says we need to vote?"

"Grab them while you can! Get the fat one!"

"No, that one, the girl, get the girl—" 

They leapt from their seats.

"Sit down!" screamed the Queen.

No one paid her any attention. They hustled and elbowed and pushed, hemming the children in a rapidly shrinking circle. Faces snarled at them. Wings spread. Tails twitched. Teeth clicked.

"Quiet!" thundered the Snow Queen and unleashed a wind of such force it froze everyone solid.

In the sudden silence someone banged on the glass. One of the windows shattered, and in poked the beak of Hinbad.

"You forgot about us, huh?" he said, regarding the scene with one curious orange eye.

The window next to him imploded. "Congratulations," said Haroun, trying to squeeze in his whole head. "Mad Tome is waking, in case you didn't know."

The third window broke. It was Hossain. "Dude. You people are too loud." He stared at the frost-covered badlings, then at the Snow Queen. "Awesome trick! That's a cool way to make them shut up."

The Queen heaved, worn out by her effort.

"Anyway," continued Hinbad. "Did you vote yet?" He passed his eyes over the figures until he spotted Bells. "I claim that one. She's clever."

"You?" Haroun screeched in shock. "No way! I'm getting her."

Hossain pecked him. "Didn't you say Mad Tome is waking? We better get out of here before it gets really angry."

As if to confirm the accuracy of his prediction, the ground shuddered, shaking the whole abbey, which had a thawing effect on all within. There was a pause, an intake of air, and then a crunch and a crackle of splintering ice and stretching limbs and flexing joints, and in the next minute the mayhem erupted anew.

"So, like, we can give you a lift," screeched Haroun.

"But not to everyone at once!" clarified Hossain. "First come, first served. That cool?"

They were met with a squall of terror. Sofas were overturned; ottomans were tipped; settees, divans, commodes were pushed aside to make way for the frenzied mob. Some badlings dashed for the doors, others for the windows, yet others went for the children, reaching for them with anything that was sharp: talons, teeth, daggers, claws, even a hairpin in Alice's trembling hand.

Before any of them inflicted damage, a low rumble rolled through the sky, an amplified sound of yawning and stretching, and then from below a rattle of chains, a slam of a door, and an ominous beating of wings.

The light dimmed. Darkness oozed into the room, and with it, freed from the dungeon prison by the faithful ghost of Blackey, Dracula flew in and alighted next to the children, sweeping his competitors off their feet.

"You're mine," he told them, "mine. I claim you all." His batlike face twisted in a snarl of triumph.

"You don't need to claim us. We can destroy Mad Tome together!" cried Bells. "You said you're tired of being here. Don't you want to get home?"

"Let that not concern you, Belladonna Monterey." Dracula's eyes flashed red. "You'll learn to love your new life, just like I learned to love it before you." He bared his fangs.

"Bells!" screamed Rusty. "Behind you!"

She ducked.

Dracula's jaws closed on nothing. He reached for Bells just as the Snow Queen smote him with a powerful blow. She grabbed Bells by the arm. "You're mine! I found you first! You landed on my page!"

But Dracula was not to be outdone. He grasped the Queen from behind and lifted her clear off the floor. A surprised expression spread over her pallid features. She released her hold on Bells, and next she was hurtling out of the room through one of the broken windows.

Dracula watched her fly, enjoying a moment of gratification.

It was this moment that saved our friends. They looked at one another, took big gulps of air, and bolted for the doors, running full pelt until they were out of the abbey.

Fierce wind slapped their faces. Dirt rained on their heads. The hills swarmed with panicked figures, and the sky was roiling and flashing yellow.

"Who dares to wake me?" thundered Mad Tome, its lips dark clouds, its eyes streaks of lightning.

"What do we do now?" squealed Bells.

"Where is Dracula?" wailed Peacock. "I want to go with him! Why did you drag me away?"

Grand wheezed, speaking in bursts. "This is it...we will die...this crazy book...will rip us...to pieces..."

"Over there!" Rusty pointed. "The Roc chicks! They're taking people on!"

At the end of the page lay Haroun, Hussein, and Hinbad, their wings flat on the ground, serving as ramps. The badlings climbed on top of them like a tide of insects. The first to get fully loaded, Haroun took off, flying up then parallel to the dirt wall.

Mad Tome stretched its claws with the unmistakable intent to crush the bird and everyone it carried. "You think you can escape me, you wretched badlings? Think again!" The tips of its claws snapped, missing them by inches. Haroun screeched and swooped down, zigzagging, until at last he reached the bottom of the next page. He dove under it and was gone, successfully escaping the danger.

Mad Tome roared, caught the edge of the page, and ripped it, howling in pain.

"It's mad," muttered Grand.

"It's destroying itself," echoed Bells.

Peacock didn't share their sentiments, nor was he watching the commotion. He studied his friends with a peculiar air, as if he wanted to bite them and was deciding on who would taste better. And just as he set his eyes on Grand, Rusty interrupted him.

"Come on, guys," he shouted. "We can still make it!"

Bewildered, they sprinted forth and reached Hinbad just in time, joining a huddle of badlings already seated on his back. Hinbad screeched, flapped his wings, and soared up.

Then several unpleasant things happened in a rapid succession.

Upset at the badlings for defying its orders and hurting from a wound it brought upon itself, Mad Tome began fluttering pages, generating a windstorm and sending Hinbad into a plummeting spin.

As if that wasn't enough, Dracula came out of nowhere, snatched Peacock, and vanished out of sight.

Next, from the mass of the badlings desperately clinging to Hinbad's back, the Headless Horseman emerged and caught Grand in a headlock. "Hinbad! Let me off! It's my page!"

Hinbad screeched agreement and instead of passing under the prairie veered over it and quickly slowed down. The Horseman jumped, taking Grand with him.

While Bells and Rusty stared at this, unable to help, the remaining badlings started giggling.

"We got you! We got you! We tricked the Snow Queen! We got two new badlings, the boy and the girl!" They ripped off their masks, and Bells saw with horror that what she perceived as hair was fur, and who she thought were either kids or short people were not human at all.

"Monkeys," she gasped. "Where did they come from?"

Rusty grinned. "Hey, monkeys! How are you doing?"

The monkeys didn't appear to be in the mood to return his greeting. They curled their lips, showing sharp yellow teeth.

"Stop! I command you to stop! You're carrying my badling!" came a shout from behind. It was the Snow Queen flying in her sleigh. She was about to overtake them.

Startled, Hinbad rocked off balance and instead of skimming under the page ahead of them flew directly at it. Bells and Rusty glimpsed lots of green, and in the next second they were smashing into a carpet of leaves, flowers, and lianas.