“I do,” I admitted, slumping into the chair across from her and filling a cup of my own. “My father taught me, and his father taught him.”
“Are they dead?” she asked. “Your father and your grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“You are like me then—young and alone.” A look of true sorrow covered her face, dampening the power of her eyes.
“I suppose.”
“You have a duty to your queen. Your kingdom.”
I disagreed, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“I need you to teach me the art of magic.”
“The art of magic can’t be learned by just anyone,” I lied. The truth was, anyone willing enough could learn.
I had lived in Fluttering Forest all my years, living the simple life of a sorcerer and learning the skills that had been handed down for generations. I had only ever used my knowledge for medicinal reasons. I knew the delicate practices of magic. When used for good, they can be controlled, but only if they are respected and feared. When used for selfishness or power seeking, they are dangerous beyond reason, unfathomably devastating. I didn’t want the queen to learn.
“How do we know unless we try?” she questioned. All of my previous determination to resist her charms melted when I saw her wide, joyful smile. It weakened me instantly. My knees got hot and before I could help myself, I felt a smile form on my face in response.
Still, I knew there were some things the queen of Mayhem should never know. “I’ll teach you the theory of spells,” I compromised.
“Spells?”
“Yes.” I knew that I had to convince her that spells were adequate. “Spells are useful no matter where you are or what you’re doing. And they’re powerful.”
“That’s a good place to start,” she said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I watched her drive away, trying to think of a way to escape her. But at the same time, I couldn’t wait to see her again.
For the next few weeks she came, every day, and unfortunately she excelled at the craft.
“Amazing, Queen Radiance,” I praised when her first spell caused a purple wildflower to grow right in the middle of my kitchen table.
Her talent caught me by surprise, and I found myself encouraging her. It felt good to have such a successful student. I had never taught anyone before and had never dreamed how satisfying it would be. “Don’t think about the words too much,” I instructed. “Let them flow freely from your tongue.” I circled the table where she practiced, coaching her on. “Think of the spell you’re creating. Ask it to come to life. What’s in your heart and mind is more important than the words you speak.”
I hate to admit it, but she enthralled me, and in only two moons, her skills surpassed mine. I looked forward to her coming every day and defended her name to those who suffered at her hand. Looking back, I’m convinced she put spells on me. I even came to believe I loved her.
Then one day a knock interrupted our spell session.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s Fredrick,” she said.
“Who’s Fredrick?” I asked, intrigued. Nobody had ever come to the door during one of our sessions before.
“You haven’t heard?” she asked. “Fredrick is my cousin. My parents arranged our marriage long ago, giving his family a small farm in the village of Costner in exchange for the match. He’s nothing but a commoner now, but he’s to be the next king of Mayhem.”
“So he can’t rule?”
“Only as my husband. If I were to die, he would lose his title.”
I couldn’t bear the thought of her dying (not back then), or the thought of her marrying Fredrick. She must have seen my despair.
“You’re white as snow,” she remarked. “Is anything wrong?”
I shook my head before answering the door.
Fredrick may have been a commoner, the son of a farmer, but he looked like royalty. He stood a full head above me, with broad shoulders, a straight back, and a confident but kind presence, his eyes the same green as ivy leaves.
“Fredrick, you look stunning,” the queen said.
He looked past me to thank her and return the compliment. “And you must be her teacher,” he said to me, reaching out his hand.
I accepted, and marveled at the warmth and strength of his fingers.
“Are you ready, Tirnosha?” he asked. I thought it strange that he called her by her real name.
The queen ceremoniously gathered her robe and pointed velvet shoes—she always removed these upon entering the cottage—and whispered something in Fredrick’s ear. They looked into each other’s eyes, smiling about her secret. If I had known then what kind of man Fredrick was, I could have avoided hating him.
But perhaps I should have suspected then that Queen Radiance sought to make me jealous in order to use and manipulate me. She didn’t come back for four weeks.
When she finally returned one rainy afternoon, her red puffy eyes gave away her distress. “Jasper,” she said. (How silly that I’m just barely telling you my name; I should have done that long ago.) “I need a spell. A powerful spell.”
“Queen Radiance, you know spells better than I do. Why do you need me to help you with a spell?” I kept calm, masking the reality of my emotions. How I had longed to see her! What joy and excitement it brought me to find her once again at my door! And what angst it caused to see her in despair.
“Fredrick.” She held back the tears.
“What is the matter with Fredrick? Is he sick?” The queen and I had not yet explored spells for medical use, and I stood ready to help if needed.
“He doesn’t love me,” she blurted, sobbing into her black-and-white embroidered handkerchief.
“Come in,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder. She moved into my embrace. I comforted her, held her, and welcomed her need for consolation. I thoroughly enjoyed her company over the next several days as she sent the royal carriage off and stayed with me in my cozy cottage, offering me all of her affections.
“I don’t have to marry Fredrick,” she told me. “It was my parent’s wish, but by law I may choose whomever I please.”
“You please me,” I said. I know now what a stupid line that was, and gag at the thought of ever having said it to her, but remember, I thought I loved her.
She flattered me, stood by me as I cooked poached eggs, laughed with me, and gave me every reason to believe we shared feelings of love and adoration. Then one morning, her plan to learn more about the practice of magic began to surface.
“I’m ready to move past spells,” she said between sips of tea.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“There is more to learn, isn’t there? About sorcery?”
Queen Radiance wanted to learn the darker levels of magic, like fortune telling, mind reading, and looking into the future. I wanted to refuse, knowing she’d already used her talent for spells to adjust the weather, to punish less-than-perfect servants by giving them some plague or disease; she had even experimented on herself, casting spells to preserve her youthful vitality and accentuate her beauty. But at the same time, I longed to give her what she wanted. Becoming the king of Mayhem had little appeal, but the irresistible exquisiteness sitting before me . . . You must realize what a position this put me in.
“Have I ever shown you the magic mirror my father left me?”
“No,” she answered, raising her eyebrows in interest.
I grew nervous; if she fell for the distraction, the ruin of Mayhem could be prolonged. If she didn’t, our romance would certainly be over and possibly my life.
I retrieved the mirror from its hiding place beneath my bed and showed it to the queen.
“Why, it’s just a hand mirror.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “But it’s powerful. I think it could be the next step for you. It may be all you ever need.”
“All you do is step inside. Would you like to see?” I placed the mirror down on the table and held my hand out, beckoning her to come with me.
Her cold hand clasped mine and together we approached the surface of the mirror. As soon as our hands reached out and touched the glass, it sucked us inward until we landed in the small, dark enclosure.
“Now what?” she asked, looking around. “Do we get out the same way we came in?”
“Yes.” The uneasiness in my gut began to take over the silly feelings of lust I had experienced in the days and weeks before. “Unless a spell is used to trap someone inside.”
“But what good is that?” she asked. “Can it be used as a sort of prison?”
“Well, yes,” I said. “But the mirror’s much too valuable for that.”
“What else can it do?” she inquired.
“Think of someone,” I said. “Or something or somewhere.”
The queen closed her eyes, and I knew instantly she had thought of Fredrick because an image of him came up on the small glass surface that acted as both entrance and exit to the mirror.
“What’s he doing?” I wondered aloud.
Queen Radiance opened her eyes to see for herself. She moved closer and squinted at the image. “He’s making a head wreath.”
I laughed. “Is he going to wear it?”
She looked at me, suddenly grave. “Stay here,” she said, before kissing me long on the lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Her hand reached out for escape, and she slipped away from me, leaving the faint scent of her floral perfume—lilacs, I believe.
I watched speechless as she spoke these words, calling to life the spell that would entrap me.
“Mirror, Mirror, in my hand
Lock your door; enslave this man.
Ensure his lips speak only truth;
Keep lies behind tongue and tooth.
Hold him there, no longer free
Until death take him or me.”
Frantic, only realizing what she had done after the spell was completed, I reached out my hand towards the smooth glass.
Nothing. I was trapped.
The queen of Mayhem married her cousin, Fredrick the commoner—son of Fredrick Baer and Alisa Whyte Baer—two days later. Then she wreaked even greater havoc throughout the kingdom, continuing the philosophy to rule with absolute power and tyranny. She brought many to their knees in fearful subservience, and she did it with ease, because, as I said before, there was no beauty inside of her. And I played a part in it all. Whenever the queen needed to locate someone, or whenever she sought to spy on one of her subjects, she came to me. The biggest regret of my life is that her outward appearance ever blinded me to the terror beneath.
Sharing the Mirror
Life inside the mirror was unpleasant at best, and downright depressing at worst. Queen Radiance kept the mirror in her private bedchambers; even during her marriage to King Fredrick I was kept from his view. He resided solely in a different part of the castle and was forbidden to enter the queen’s dwelling. The mirror rested on top of her vanity, so she had easy access to see the things I could see. Lucky for me, her vanity rested in the path of streaming sunlight from her window; I’m sure I would have gone mad without that little bit of brightness every day.
As I’ve said before, to access a vision, I had only to think of a person or place specifically. I could see the queen whenever I wanted, but watching her made me sick. Occasionally, I looked upon my old home—which had since been occupied by a large family—or some old acquaintances, wondering if they had missed me. Much of the time I watched over the villages of Mayhem. I sorrowed for their inhabitants, and I was amazed that even under such a queen they found ways to laugh. By far my greatest interest over all those years had been Princess Katiyana. But these are the things I looked at only in the absence of the queen.
She used me often. It made me feel awful to know I’d been the instrument to so much ill will and destruction. “Show me the village of Ramuse,” she would say, and if anything looked awry she would send a band of soldiers to set it right, either by fire or intimidating abuse. “Show me Tenser Waller,” she would say, and if the man or woman she asked to see looked to be a traitor, well, she would take care of it in one way or another. I’d seen more murders than I care to remember, more pain, more tears, more blood. People talked all over the kingdom of Mayhem, wondering how the queen always knew if someone committed a crime or quarreled or threatened an uprising against her. Every attempt at freedom from her oppression was easily and quickly silenced. And it was all because of me and my foolishness.
She also watched the kingdom of Mischief with vigilance, since its king and queen had tested her patience early in her rule by playing practical jokes on their neighboring kingdom. Their efforts at friendly frivolity were returned with raging war. And even though the king and queen of Mischief had kept a fearful distance for some number of years, Queen Radiance wanted to be confident in their intentions toward her, or rather, in their fear of her. She asked to see them at least once a week.
Let me just explain one more thing. The queen provided me with a servant—several over the years, actually, since the queen often got rid of them for one reason or another—who came into my little mirror several times a day to bring me food and take care of anything else I needed. I watched with care, and listened, always turning off the power of the mirror in time for these predictable visits. None of these servants ever asked me how I felt about being locked inside a mirror, or how it was I came to be there, or how they could get me out. But it didn’t matter. No servant would have risked the wrath of Queen Radiance to set free a strange sorcerer. They all did what they were told.
As I said, the servant visits were expected, but I couldn’t always tell when the queen would be coming for information.
One day she asked me to show her the road to Mischief. I still remember how bright it was with the snow on the ground and the sun burning high. On the road, two men stood, discussing whether to ask the kingdom of Mischief to interfere with the troubles found in Mayhem and the tyranny of Queen Radiance. I thought it strange they met on the road in the dead of winter. Perhaps one man lived in Mischief and the other in Mayhem, and the road served as their meeting place. Both had walked, and both looked frozen despite the shining sun. Fresh snow dappled the surrounding pine trees.
They whispered, and one in particular kept glancing around, paranoid they were being watched. How ironic, for I knew however carefully he watched, he would never be able to find me.
“We’ve got to do something,” one said.
“But the queen will find out,” the other said.
“Yes, she will,” Queen Radiance interjected.
“Be quiet,” I commanded. “You know I can’t concentrate when you start talking on top of everything else.” Lying to Queen Radiance had become a natural habit. To tell the truth, I simply couldn’t stand the sound of her voice and told her it affected my concentration. I would say just about anything to get her to shut up.
After viewing their conversation—which ended in a decision to get more support, and hopefully from someone in the queen’s army—she set off immediately, located her royal executioner, and called for her carriage. I feared for the men; Queen Radiance rarely went to deal with her subjects personally, and when she did . . . I shivered thinking about it. I watched through the mirror as she walked down the front steps of the castle in her stunning black and blue dress—her armored executioner close behind—and stepped into her carriage. “Drive on,” she said as she put on her black, lace gloves. Her latest driver threw the reins up in the air and clapped them back down again, sending the carriage forward with a jolt.
I craved distraction. Feeling safe from her attentive eyes, and knowing my se
rvant would not be in for two hours, I thought of Princess Katiyana and her seven little men. Really, it was the best entertainment to be had with stories and magic tricks and Pokole’s funny remarks.
On this particular day, things in the dwarf house were relatively quiet, as if the bleakness of winter had finally engulfed them in its cloud. Katiyana sat on a low stool, her head resting against the brick wall and a book in her hand; Corto and Arrapato slept in front of the fire—how uncomfortable they looked stuck together while trying to sleep; Jalb sat at the table as if considering what to make for dinner but not wanting to begin yet; Pokole sat on top of the table, halfheartedly playing at a game on his own; the others sat around in silence.
Perhaps each thought about their own troubles and the unfairness life had dealt to them—a typical human behavior on a cold, dreary winter day; something in winter stirred these feelings up even in the most cheery of creatures. I had pity for them all, but could not help mourn for my own poor circumstance—growing old in a trap. If I had had a spell for each poor soul I looked upon that day, I would have set us all free; I would have given Katiyana her rightful position and identity; each dwarf would have received health and a profound stature; and I would have been anywhere but in a prison. But while I had the power to create spells inside the mirror, my strength and will had grown weak over so many years spent in isolation. Setting myself free had proved impossible; I had tried many times to best the spell the queen had used to trap me inside. It boiled down to the fact that her gift exceeded mine.
It would seem the reflective mood was catching; I sat pondering all of these things with the image of the princess before me. Suddenly, I heard a dreadfully familiar voice.
“What is it that holds your attention so well?”
The coolness of Queen Radiance’s tone froze every bone in my body. I quickly cleared my mind so that blankness covered the space between us. She picked up the mirror, which always made me feel dizzy and disoriented. I placed my brow on the inside surface of the glass so that we could talk face to face. “It was nothing,” I said, forcing a feigned calmness.
Snow Whyte and the Queen of Mayhem Page 9