"Your dress is beautiful. Did you have it made for you?" Her question surprises me.
"Yes, I did. The dressmaker in town, Hazel."
She frowns. "The dressmaker is called Dianne."
"The one next to the bakery?" I ask. It doesn't make any sense to me.
"There isn't a dressmaker next to the bakery," she replies. "Just an old abandoned shop."
"Oh." I'm not sure how to respond to any of that. Is Hazel real? Or just a trick. Maybe she's the one who is supposed to make my prophecy come to pass. But that doesn't make sense. She's helped me, not tried to harm me.
And yet...the dress in the shop. And she gave me the tea to make me less nervous, less wary. Then there's the mirror. She encouraged me to remove the blanket, to let the black smoke in the mirror to take hold. I can't forget about that.
"Snow, are you alright?" Briar asks.
Her words barely register, even though she hasn't used my proper title.
"I'm fine." I turn away and grab hold of Edward's hand. "We need to go." I have a bad feeling brewing inside me.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
I shake my head and pull him from the great hall and in the direction of my room. Technically, he's not supposed to go there, but he came to pick me up earlier, and we're both over eighteen, so I'm not sure what anyone is going to do to stop us.
My heart pounds in my chest. I don't know what I'm going to find in my room, but I have a sinking feeling that I'm not going to like it.
"Snow? I need you to start explaining," Edward insists.
"I can't. Not yet."
We get to my door, and I start fumbling around in my pocket for the key. I try and put it in the lock, but end up dropping it instead.
I bend down to pick it up, but Edward is quicker. "Let me," he whispers, taking the key and slotting it into the lock with ease.
The door swings open.
I'm frozen in place, even as Edward looks around, confusion on his face. He doesn't understand why we're here.
But I don't have words to explain.
All of my focus rests on the rosy red apple sat in front of the exposed mirror.
Chapter Fifteen
It only takes Edward a couple of moments more to catch on to what's happening.
"What do you want me to do?" he asks.
"Cover the mirror." The words are strained. I don't say anything else, I just stand and stare. The black swirls have started at the corners, a sight I'm used to by now.
How did this happen?
Edward shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over the mirror. I feel like I can breathe again, despite the fact nothing has actually changed.
He reaches for the apple, his fingers grazing the surface of it.
"No!" I shout. "Don't touch it. That's for me."
"I was going to get rid of it." He gestures towards the fire.
I shake my head. That isn't what's supposed to happen. I step inside the room, still in a daze, but aware enough to close the door behind me. I don't want anyone else coming in and seeing what's going to happen. Or find Edward here. I don't know if we'll be punished for it, but I don't want to find out.
"I need to eat it," I whisper. "That's what my prophecy says."
He rushes forward and cups my hands in his. "You don't have to listen to your prophecy, Snow."
"Maybe I do. What if the only way to ever truly leave it behind is to live it out?" I tear my gaze away from the ruby red skin of the apple and look into his eyes. "This could be the only way."
"And what happens when you eat it?"
"I'm supposed to die." And maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. Why else would I have this prophecy on me? There must be a reason. We can't just be picked at random.
"I don't want you to die," he counters.
"I don't particularly want to either, but what if it's the only way? You can try and bring me back, after I've eaten it," I suggest.
I pull away from him, unable to keep looking at him when I have to do what comes next. I pick up the apple from the dresser and turn it over in my hands. I've never eaten one, that I know of. I may have when I was a child, before I knew about the prophecy, but I don't remember what it tastes like.
Tears stream down my cheeks. I believe Edward will go to the ends of the earth to save me, but that doesn't mean he'll manage. This could be the last time I ever see him. My only chance to say goodbye.
I turn back to him, pushing away the grief building inside.
"I don't want to say goodbye," I whisper.
"Then don't. We'll destroy the apple, and that'll be it. We won't have to worry about it again."
I shake my head. "It doesn't work that way. I haven't had a poisoned hair comb happen to me yet, and there's plenty of chances to slip me another apple." As I say the words, I realise there may have been a hair comb waiting for me among Hazel's things, I just rejected it before she could use it. "I'll never be free if I don't do this."
Edward wipes my tears away and kisses me gently. But he pulls back before I can return his kiss.
"Tears!" he exclaims.
"What?" I cock my head to the side.
"You have the unicorn tears, right?"
I frown, then nod.
"The book said that if you consume part of the unicorn, then you'll be immune to poison, right?"
My eyes widen. "And Holly said the tears could heal too," I add, digging into my pocket for the vial.
"Drink half now, then bite the apple. If you fall down, I'll use the rest on you."
I nod eagerly, my own tears drying up as I realise we have a plan. That I can fulfil my prophecy and avoid it at the same time.
I hand Edward the apple so I can take the stopper off the vial and drink down half the tears. They're sweet, like a rosebud syrup and spun sugar. I can't explain how they feel on my tongue.
"Do you feel any different?" he asks.
I shake my head. I'm the same as before, though I doubt being immune to poison feels like anything until there's poison inside.
"Can I have the apple, please?" I ask.
Edward holds it out with a shaking hand.
"Snow, I..."
I press my fingers against his lips. "No saying goodbye."
"But we don't know if this is going to work."
"It is," I respond. "And we're not going to treat it as if there's any doubt." If we do, then I won't go through with it. I know enough about myself to be sure of it.
Edward hands over the apple, though I can see how much he hates it on his face.
"It'll be alright," I promise.
I don't see how he responds, all my attention has turned back to the apple in my hand. The smooth skin and the perfect shape enough to make it truly inviting to anyone who isn't terrified of the fruit.
I take a deep breath. I need to do this. The longer I put it off, the worse this is going to get. I raise the apple to my mouth, and bite down into the crisp skin. The crunch is deafening, even as the sweet tang of its juice hits my tongue along with the cloying taste of ashes. Even if I hadn't known already, I'd be able to tell this apple is poisoned.
I swallow and take another bite, not letting my attention sway until the whole thing is gone, down to the core.
The world around me begins to sway. I'm dimly aware of Edward's hands on my shoulders, directing me to the bed.
"I'm alright," I whisper.
It's a lie. My veins are on fire, and my stomach has twisted into the biggest knot I've ever experienced.
But I'm not dead. Far from it. And that counts for more than anything. The prophecy states I should be dead already. The fact I'm not means the plan worked. I'm going to survive this.
"You're pale, Snow."
"Throw this in the fire," I insist, pressing the core into his hand.
He takes it and leaves my side. The hiss of the flames consuming the flesh of the apple is enough to set my heart at ease. The thing is gone. It can't hurt me anymore than it is now.
Edward comes back, his prese
nce comforting. He takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.
"Do you need more tears?" he asks softly.
I shake my head, but it barely moves. I don't know what about the poison is trapping me. Maybe it's just my body fighting against after effects.
"I don't need them." Even without more. I'm not going to die here.
Elation fills me. I still have things I need to do to set this to rest, but only one thought stays at the front of my mind.
My prophecy is over. I escaped it. No one can ever force me back under the yoke of its oppression.
A weight I didn't know I carried lifts from me as I drift into a restless sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
I rub my eyes, still groggy from the depth of my sleep. Edward looks worse for wear too, with shadows under his eyes from where he's been up all night watching me. I slip my hand into my pocket and fiddle with the tiny vial of unicorn tears. It's only half full now, but I want it with me in case there's another way it can help us against the prophecy.
It may be passed now, but I need to check on Hazel's shop. I need to be certain of a few things, otherwise I'll never find the peace I want.
Edward slips an arm around me and pulls my body against his.
"How are you feeling?"
"The same as when you asked five minutes ago," I tease. He's been asking me the same question since I woke up this morning.
"I was scared," he reasons. "You ate a poisoned apple."
"And lived to tell the tale," I counter. Even if I don't want to admit it, a small part of me is proud of that. Of all the ways I envisaged defeating my prophecy, eating the apple myself wasn't one of them.
"That you did."
I glance over my shoulder to check the academy guard following us. I feel lighter than I did, but that doesn't mean my nerves have gone completely.
The smell of baking bread fills the air and only increases my nerves. And my hunger. I didn't want to stop for breakfast before we came into town.
"We should get some iced buns after," I suggest.
Edward shoots me a look that could mean he thinks I'm crazy, but could just be caused by hunger. It's always hard to tell with boys.
"They're my favourites." I shrug like it's not important. The more I think about it, the more I want an iced bun though. Maybe it's just a way for me to offset the nerves building within me.
We turn a corner, and there it is. Hazel's shop. Or rather, the place where Hazel's shop should be. Just like Briar said, it's nothing but a ruin. The place where an old shop used to be but no longer is.
A lump forms in my throat. This is what I get for not having come to town more often.
"That's the dressmaker's," I say to Edward, pointing it out.
"Oh." He understands as well as I can.
"I think we need to go inside." I've known that from the moment I woke up, but the truth of it becomes clear now.
He nods. "But only if you're ready. We can come back another day..."
"We're not avoiding this," I cut him off. I don't want to draw this out any longer. If I don't deal with it today, then there's a chance I never will, and that's not good enough. I want the prophecy dead and gone.
Edward takes my hand in his and pushes open the front door. Sunlight streams through a broken patch of roof, illuminating the dust swirling in the air. It's both beautiful and sort of sad. Everything has a fine layer of dirt and dust over it, even the piles of abandoned fabric on the floor.
I want to ask the room why Hazel did what she did, but I know I won't get an answer. There's a chance she's nothing more than a magical manifestation of the prophecy.
The only thing not covered in dust is the grand mirror standing off to the side. It's just as beautiful and ornate as it was before, which doesn't fill me with confidence. I may have changed my prophecy, but I don't think that's going to change how I feel about mirrors. I want to cover it up, or hide in a place it can't find me.
Edward drops my hand and starts shuffling around, no doubt trying to find some clue to what happened.
He isn't going to find any. There's only one object in this room that holds any power.
I walk across the room to the mirror and reach out my hand. My fingers brush against the cold glass. Nothing happens. I'm not sure why that surprises me.
Until it does.
Black smoke swirls through the mirror, and a cackle of laughter echoes around the room. It's eerie and full of a threat.
The smoke forms a sneering face, one I recognise as belonging to Hazel.
I gulp down my nerves and set my face into a strong and stern expression. I don't want her to see how much she affects me.
"Why?" I ask.
"It's what I was created to do," she responds.
Huh, I didn't think she would.
"So you're magical?"
"Yes."
I pause for a moment, not knowing what to ask or say. She isn't going to tell me why she did it, not when she doesn't know herself. No one knows where the prophecies come from, or even if they're from the same place. It's just something those of us that are born with them have to deal with. But we have somewhere like Grimm Academy now. A place where we're protected from them.
Though I'm coming to see that may not be possible, especially with how much of my own played out in its entirety.
The Hazel-smoke laughs again. "Watch you back, Princess Snow. Maybe there'll be another apple with your name on it."
"The prophecy said one," I insist. Though I plan on avoiding apples just to be sure. That's nothing to do with her threat, just over caution on my part.
"It can change."
I close my eyes, but not before noticing the smoke getting thicker in the surface of the mirror.
"There's only one way," Edward whispers, and presses a length of wood into my hand.
For a moment, I'm confused, until it dawns on me that he wants me to destroy the mirror. I'm not sure if it'll work, but a part of me wants to try.
"Isn't that supposed to be seven years bad luck?" I half-joke.
He laughs. "I think you've had your bad luck already."
Hazel cackles. "She won't do it. She's too scared that it'll come back to haunt her. That's all Princess Snow is. Scared. Worried. Anxious. I'm not sure what you see in her."
Anger grows within me. She's not wrong, all of those words can describe me. But they're not the only things that make me the person I am.
I lift my arm and smash the wood into the mirror.
A sickening crack fills the room, but Hazel still cackles. That wasn't enough. I need to hit it harder.
I swing again.
And again.
Once more for luck.
Shards of the mirror rain down around me, covering the floor and making it a minefield of glass. We need to be careful not to cut ourselves when we leave.
I drop the wood to the floor and stare at the mirror in horror. The glass is gone, save for one shard at the very top, revealing the scarred wood beneath.
"It seems you're not the first one to try and destroy this mirror," Edward says as he studies the gashes. "It's been done several times before."
"Then we need to burn the frame," I answer instantly. "That's the only way to stop it from hurting anyone else." I'm not certain why I know this, but I feel that it's true.
"How are we going to do that?"
"The bakery," I say. "We can take the wood there and pay the baker to get rid of it." And get some iced buns. It's an added bonus.
"We could just try and give it to him?" Edward suggests instead.
I shake my head. "If we pay him, he's more likely to burn it." The wood is fine, and carved intricately. He may decide to sell it anyway, though I hope not.
Edward disappears for a moment and comes back with a rusty axe from behind the counter. "Someone must have left it." He shrugs as if it isn't important.
"Why didn't you give me that," I mutter.
"Because I didn't want the metal to shatter the glass," he
points out.
I watch as he takes a swing at the wood, his shoulders flexing with the strain. I enjoy the sight of it, but don't say anything to distract him. I'm only going to be able to relax once the mirror is burned.
I fashion a sling out of the abandoned fabric and start putting the smaller bits of mirror into it.
Once we're done, we leave the abandoned shop and make our deal with the baker.
I only start to relax once I'm licking the icing off my fingers on the walk back to the academy.
Chapter Seventeen
It's odd to be alone, but it's better for Edward if he doesn't return to my room with me now. He needs to get some sleep or he'll drop on the spot. No doubt he'll be down in the stables before I am.
I unlock the door with ease, though I'm a little worried about what I may find inside. Hopefully, there isn't another apple, though Hazel's words still echo around my head.
"Stop it, she was just trying to scare you," I remind myself as I push open the heavy door and step into my room.
Everything is how we left it this morning. My dress from the night before over the chair, and the fire crackling in the hearth. The apple core is no doubt charred ash now, so I don't need to worry about that.
My eyes catch on Edward's jacket, still draped over the mirror.
I walk up to it and tug gently, letting it fall away.
I gasp.
If I had any doubts about my mirror being used to spy on me, they're gone now. A huge black crack lies down the centre of it. That must have happened when we broke the other mirror.
I reach out to touch it, but nothing happens. I don't know why I'm expecting it to. With the other mirror destroyed, the power should be gone.
At least, that's the only theory I can come up with that makes any sense.
I let my hand drop back to my side. I want to cover the mirror again, but I can't move. I'm overwhelmed by the enormity of what's happened.
I just need to keep reminding myself that it's going to be alright. I don't have to worry anymore, even if I still avoid corsets, combs and apples. It'll be hard not to when those are now my habits. I'll have Edward to help.
Regret flashes through me. I should have let him come back with me. But I have no time for those thoughts as exhaustion overcomes me. I guess that makes sense. My sleep was spent fighting off the poison in my system.
Academy of Magic Collection Page 25