Magic at Midnight

by Lyssa Chiavari

  The purple fairy curtsied, then laid various toiletries and makeup items on a large oak dressing table.

  “The prince has asked us to see that you have all you need while you’re here,” said the turquoise fairy, laying down the wooden trunk she was holding.

  “Thank you, ladies,” Clara said, climbing out of bed and crossing the room to the fairies.

  They all curtsied again.

  “It’s our pleasure,” said the pink fairy.

  “The prince said for you to meet him in the dining room when you’re ready,” said the purple fairy.

  “Let us know if you need help getting ready,” said the turquoise fairy.

  “Thank you. I will.”

  Once the fairies had departed, Clara located something to wash with, and a paste which smelled strongly of mint that she thought she might be able to clean her teeth with. She took them to the bathroom and freshened up, and then browsed the selection of dresses the fairies had brought for her. A simple gown in forest green caught her eye, and Clara shed her nightdress and changed into it. After brushing her dark hair and tying it back with a ribbon in the same shade as her dress, she put on some dark slippers and left the room.

  Clara walked down the hallway to the grand staircase and descended, heading in the direction of the dining room, where they’d eaten the day before. But as she reached the end of the corridor, Clara noticed the dark, barred door she’d seen the night before. Too curious to even wait and ask Hans what was down there, Clara crept forward.

  The bars were heavy but not impossible to lift, and after a moment’s work, Clara moved them away so she could push the door open. Walking lightly, she passed over the threshold, and into a dimly-lit corridor.

  The hairs on the back of Clara’s arms and neck prickled, and for one moment, she considered turning back and going to the dining room to find Hans. But then she saw a faint light coming from the other end of the hallway, and if she listened closely, she swore she could hear something moving.

  Her pace quickening, Clara hurried down the corridor, following the source of the light until she came to a single lantern hanging on the wall, and to the right of the lantern, a jail cell.

  Clara gasped and peered inside, her heart hammering as her eyes adjusted to the dim light and made out the shape of a figure sitting at the back of the cell.

  “Hello?” she called.

  “Who’s there?” a wizened voice replied, and then into the light shuffled a gnarled old man. He had pure white hair that stuck up from his head in every direction. He wore filthy and ragged gray robes, and a black eye patch covering his left eye.

  “You’re him, aren’t you? The wizard who cursed the Land of the Dolls?” Clara asked. Her eyes were wide, and her body was a war of emotions. Part of her wanted to flee in revulsion and run back to the safety of the Nutcracker Prince. But a tiny part of her was fascinated by this deformed old man. She wondered if perhaps she could learn anything from him that would help break the curse.

  The old man laughed, a sound Clara didn’t like. It filled her with cold and dread. She was about to run away when his twisted hand grabbed her wrist, and with surprising strength, he pulled her against the bars of his cell.

  “Is that the lie my nephew told you?”

  “Your nephew?” Clara repeated the old man’s words.

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “Hans is my nephew, all right, and he was my apprentice too. I was once the famed court wizard Drosselmeyer. I served the King and Queen of this palace diligently, using my magic to help them fight the invading Mouse King’s army. And at the same time, I taught Hans all I knew, with the hope that one day, when I became too old to carry out my royal duties, he would replace me as the palace wizard.”

  Clara narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying. Hans is the prince of this palace, and you cursed him and his subjects to live as dolls.”

  Drosselmeyer laughed again. “Ha, he is no more a doll than I am. Though it is true, the poor people of this palace, the King and Queen included, are all under a curse that has turned them into toys.”

  “You’re lying. Why are you lying? I’ve met the subjects of this palace, and they’re all lovely people. I’ve promised them I’ll break this curse.”

  “Open your damn eyes, girl. That’s what he wants you to believe. This is all part of his illusion. The people you’ve met and the things you’ve seen aren’t real.”

  “No. You’re just trying to trick me so I don’t break your curse.”

  “The only curse is the one he cast upon this palace. Don’t you see I’m telling you the truth? Open your eyes before it’s too late. Before he claims your soul too.”

  Clara stilled. Out of everything Drosselmeyer had said, the remark about her soul caught her attention.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “For Hans to become the true ruler of the Land of Dolls, he needs magic more powerful than either he or I possess. He needs the magic of pure souls. His plan was to enter the mortal realm and kidnap anyone he sensed had a heart that was pure and true. To slow his progress, I was able to cast a spell to ensure that Hans cannot leave this place, except for the few days between Midwinter’s Eve to Christmas Eve. That’s when his magic is at its strongest, and I, weakened as I am, cannot contain him.”

  Drosselmeyer let go of Clara’s arm and she stumbled backward. Once she’d righted herself, she said, “No. I won’t believe it. You’re the true evil wizard, and I’m going to break the curse you’ve cast.”

  She turned and strode away from the prison cell, but even as she walked, doubts started to set in. What if Drosselmeyer was telling the truth? What if she’d been caught up in Hans’ spell?

  It was all so convenient—meeting Hans in the nightclub, him rescuing her and bringing her to the Land of the Dolls. Even the magical kingdom itself was peculiar in how it was all very similar to stories she’d read as a child or games she’d played when she’d been little. Almost like Hans had plucked the ideas from her thoughts and memories.

  As she stepped out of the dimly-lit corridor and back into the main hallway, it was like a veil lifted from her eyes. Because doubt had been cast on Hans’ claim, the enchantment broke, and she saw the palace for what it really was—a dilapidated ruin.

  The walls were crumbling, and the once-fine crystal chandeliers were tarnished and damaged. The marble floor beneath Clara’s feet was cracked, with grass and weeds growing through the holes.

  Her heart hammering, Clara ran along the corridor to the rooms she’d visited on her first day in the palace, where she’d seen wondrous sights like Hans’ animal garden. But when she pulled back the doors, the horrible truth was revealed. In every room were case upon case of dolls and toys covered in dust and cobwebs.

  Cautiously, Clara approached the case that held a once-magnificent king and queen, whose clothes were now moth-eaten and ruined. Staring into the dolls’ eyes, Clara could see they were alive with fear. It was just like Drosselmeyer had told her; the true rulers had been turned into toys.

  Clara screamed and ran from the room, throwing herself up the staircase—which was no longer grand and sweeping, but decaying, with steps missing—and hurried through the rundown hallways until she reached her room.

  She entered, only to find that the luxurious bed and items the fairies had bought for her had all vanished. All that was in the room was a lumpy mattress and the discarded dress she’d worn when she’d first met Hans.

  Looking down at herself, Clara realized the fine clothes she’d been given were an illusion too. She was dressed in a shapeless gray robe, similar to the one Drosselmeyer had been wearing, though slightly cleaner.

  Clara tore the robe from her body and pulled back on her original ballgown, then searched the room for any other doors, but there were none. Even the doorway to the bathroom was nothing but a mirage. Apart from the door that led back out to the hallway, the only other opening the room contained was a tiny, barred window. Even if the window hadn’t been barred, there was no way C
lara could escape from it—it was too small. She did use it to look through, though, and try to gain some understanding of where she was.

  The land around her was blanketed in snow, but the sky was a dull gray color, so the snow didn’t glimmer magically. In the distance were black, withered, twisted trees surrounding the palace grounds.

  Clara wondered if the magical glass ball that contained them was part of Hans’ illusion too. Maybe it had merely been a trick, and there was a way for her to escape if she left the palace.

  With that thought in mind, she left the bedroom and raced down the stairs, not looking back as she hurried to the main front door. The magnificent oak entranceway was another deception. Instead, a burnt and battered wooden door hung almost off its hinges and was forced closed with pieces of metal.

  Clara pushed at the door, pulling the pieces of metal away until it fell open. She ran down the path of crumbling bricks with black scorch marks and scratches along them. She ran until her legs hurt, not stopping until she reached the wrought-iron fence. There wasn’t a nice gate like there had been when Hans had first shown her around, but instead a hole in the fence, as though some of it had been blasted away by a cannonball. Careful not to catch her dress on the rusted iron, Clara climbed through the gap in the gate and then continued running away from the palace, past the contorted black trees until… oof. She collided with an invisible, solid wall. Looking up to the sky, Clara caught the faint glimmer of glass and knew that the ball the palace was contained in was not an illusion.

  “I see you’ve discovered the truth,” a cold, high voice said from behind her.

  Clara knew it was Hans, but she wasn’t prepared for what she saw when she turned to face him. Gone was the handsome prince, and in his place, was a tall, thin figure with deathly pale skin and long, white fingers. He still had long, dark hair, but instead of being brushed back in a neat tail, it hung around his shoulders like a veil, obscuring his face and casting ghastly shadows upon it.

  Floating around the figure were three female wraiths, their skin too unnaturally pale as they glided in black robes, their hair like raven’s wings. The Sugar Plum Fairies in their true forms.

  “Let me out of this place.” Clara made her demand while maintaining eye contact with Hans, staring into his cold, black eyes.

  The wraiths glided forward and grabbed Clara’s arms. A chill shot through her, like she’d been stabbed by spears of ice. She struggled to free herself, but the wraiths’ grip was too firm. They pulled her along until she was mere inches from Hans.

  Up close, Clara could see he also had pointed ears, like a faerie, and elongated incisors that reminded her of the fangs of a wild animal.

  Hans smiled, revealing the incisors and making her shiver.

  “What are you? What do you want from me?”

  “Didn’t that old fool Drosselmeyer tell you? No?”

  Hans snapped his fingers and the wraiths turned to stone, their hands still gripping Clara so she was unable to move.

  “Once, long ago, my uncle was court wizard to the insufferable king and queen who used to own this palace. They had a daughter, Princess Pirlipat, the fairest maiden in the land. When I met Pirlipat, I fell in love with her instantly and sought her hand in marriage. But a lowly magician’s apprentice wasn’t worthy enough for the king’s only child, and my proposal was rejected.

  “But who were they to stop me? I studied magic more deeply than Drosselmeyer knew, learning a great many spells and incantations that were ‘forbidden.’ Finally, I came across the perfect curse. All I had to do was acquire a Krakatooth Nut, a magical nut a knowledgeable wizard could place a curse upon. Whoever then eats the nut is affected by the spell.

  “I traveled across the land to find a Krakatooth Nut, and then when I did, I ground it down and baked it into the pastry of a huge pie I’d prepared for the king’s birthday.

  “My plan was that everyone would become dolls, and then all I had to do was travel to the mortal realm and steal enough souls to augment my magic. Once I became powerful enough, I could reshape this realm as my own, making myself Prince and Pirlipat my bride.

  “Only my uncle discovered what I was doing. Though unable to stop me from casting the curse, he did find a way to limit the time in which I could enter the mortal realm. If he had had his way, Drosselmeyer would have trapped me in this ruined palace forever. But my magic is stronger than his, and I was able to create a window through which I was able to enter the mortal realm.”

  Clara struggled against the wraiths holding her. She was beginning to see just how demented Hans really was. All this—casting a curse, stealing souls—because he hadn’t been allowed to marry the princess.

  “Since then, every year between Midwinter’s Eve and Christmas Eve, I have been able to come to your world. Using a simple enchantment that allows me to create the cocktail I fed you on the solstice, I have been luring maidens with hearts pure and true here. Once in the Land of Dolls, the maiden falls under my spell, and then by Christmas Eve, her soul is mine.”

  “You monster.” Clara spat the words at Hans’ feet.

  He simply sneered. “The people of this kingdom got what they deserved. No one respected my uncle or his power. To them, wizards and magic were a novelty. A frivolous thing to entertain themselves with.”

  “So, what, you turned them all into toys?”

  “Yes, let them become the oddity. Let them be the throw-away item only brought out to amuse the powerful.”

  “Even Princess Pirlipat, who you loved so much?”

  Hans scoffed. “She didn’t deserve me. She didn’t even deserve to become one of my dolls. As punishment for rejecting me, I turned her into a simple animal, so easy to overlook. You didn’t even notice her in the jungle, did you? So fascinated by my peacock and elephant, you missed the poor princess who is now an ant.”

  Clara shuddered. “That’s horrible. Is that what you’ve done to all the innocent girls you’ve lured here and stolen the souls of?”

  Hans smirked. “They were rewarded for the service they gave to me. The first three became the fairies that hold you now. The others became the characters in my palace of wonders. All the living dolls, dancing flower people, and exotic animals you so loved? They’re the souls of the girls who gave their lives to me. And you can join them, Clara. All you have to do is bow to me. Become my princess. Let me claim your soul, and I will give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of. All the fantasies you’ve had since childhood can become true. Pirlipat’s beauty was nothing compared to yours. Submit to me, and I will make you my bride.”

  The childish part of Clara delighted in Hans calling her more beautiful than Pirlipat, but she shook the thought from her head. He’s lying. If I submit, he’ll just turn me into a doll like the others.

  “Never!” she said.

  “You have less than twenty-four hours until Christmas Eve. One way or another, your soul will be mine.”

  With that, Hans turned, and in a swish of black robes, he vanished. As he departed, so did the wraith fairies, freeing Clara so she plunged down into the frigid snow.

  Even though the wraiths were no longer holding her, Clara could not move. She had sunken into the snow, and it was hardening around her, trapping her from the waist down, on the edge of the forest.

  Realizing she had no means of escape, and that even if she did climb out of the snow somehow, she had less than twenty-four hours to break Hans’ curse, Clara started to weep. The cold tears trickled down her cheeks, freezing almost instantly.

  I’ve been such a fool.

  Clara had been so eager to grow up and act like her sister. She’d so easily believed she could behave like an adult and still cling to the fairy tales she loved. She’d been naive to think a prince would fall in love with her and make her his princess.

  An owl hooted overhead, and then came swooping down to land on the snow in front of Clara. Before she could process what was happening, the owl hooted again and transformed into Drosselmeyer.


  Clara gazed up at him and blinked. “How?”

  “Your presence here. You’re the first person to ever find me and see through Hans’ illusions. Everyone else he brought here from your realm believed his lies and fell under his curse. But you didn’t. Your natural curiosity led you to finding me, and when I told you the truth, the enthrallment Hans cast upon you broke. The pureness of your heart has given me back a little of my magic, and I was able to escape my prison.”

  “Can you help free me?”

  “From the snow, certainly.” Drosselmeyer waved his hands, and Clara was standing on the ground, her lower half now warm and dry. “From this realm, unfortunately, no. Only you can do that, Clara.”

  “But how?”

  “Because you’re a maiden pure and true. Your heart can break the enchantment and free everyone Hans turned into dolls.”

  Clara could feel the tears welling in her eyes again. She wanted to go home, and she wanted to return the king, queen, and their kingdom back to normal. But she was just a simple girl with no magic.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  Drosselmeyer smiled. “Yes, you do, Clara. Search your heart, for the answer is there.”

  He twirled his cloak, turned back into an owl, and flew away, leaving Clara to stare into the sky at his retreating form.

  Clara had thought the original task of breaking the curse was going to be difficult, but breaking this spell seemed impossible. She didn’t have the Nutcracker or his subjects to help her. All she had was herself and less than twenty-four hours before her soul belonged to Hans.

  Not wanting to return to the cursed palace, Clara searched around for somewhere to shelter from the snow and found a small discarded shed. She pushed aside the rotted wooden door, ignoring the cobwebs and spiders that hung down in front of her, and huddled inside.

  Think, Clara, think. Hans said he used enchanted food to bring you here. Perhaps that’s the key to getting home.

  Clara sighed. If food from her realm was the way to get home, she was out of luck. Her dress had no pockets, and there hadn’t been anything to eat at the club. The only thing she’d drunk was Hans’ cocktail.