by Jen Calonita
“That was beautiful, Snow,” Anne whispered.
“Spoken like a true leader,” Henri agreed.
Grumpy grunted. “Let’s stop sitting around and help her become one. When do we move out?”
“He’s right,” Anne said. “It’s time I take Henri to the castle.”
Snow nodded. “Grumpy, will you gather the rest and hide near the castle? When the clock strikes at noon, it will be time for you all to burst from the shadows and invade the castle. Meanwhile, I’ll travel with Anne and slip inside once the invasion starts.”
Grumpy nodded.
Snow looked at the prince. “Henri . . . that means you’ll be alone in there for hours.”
“I know,” Henri said. “But I had an idea. Anne? Do you think we could get ahold of a guard’s uniform? Then I’ll be cloaked even once I’m inside the castle walls.”
“That could work against the guards, but the mirror could know you’re there,” Snow argued. “You still must stay hidden.”
“I will,” said Henri. “I will find somewhere safe. But the uniform will help.”
“The kitchen,” Snow reminded him. “Look for Mrs. Kindred. She is a kind soul. And no one comes to the kitchen.”
“Then the kitchen is where I will be,” Henri promised. His eyes never left her face.
The sky was already a bright pink and the fog had begun to lift. Clouds were parting and the dark blue of night was giving way to morning. Anne tightened her hood.
“We should hurry. Everyone will be up soon.” She hugged Snow tight. “Be safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You too, friend,” Snow said, and then turned to Henri.
She wasn’t sure what to do. Hug him? Shake his hand? No. What could she say to the boy who had protected her and slowly become her most trusted confidant? Seeing him prepare to leave left an ache in her heart she’d never felt before. “Be careful,” she said.
“You too,” he said with a soft smile. “I want you to have this.” Henri placed something cold in her palm. She opened her hand. It was his pocketknife. Her fingers brushed against the engraving of Henri’s brother’s initials. “To keep you safe while I’m gone.”
“No.” Snow tried to hand it back to him. “I couldn’t. You’d have no weapon!”
Henri shook his head. “I don’t need one. I know you’re coming, and you’ll look out for me.” He touched her hair and she felt her cheeks warm. “You’re kind and clever, Snow. One of the best I’ve ever known. I feel safe in your care.”
Snow placed the knife in a pocket in her skirt. “And I yours. Will you hold on to this for me, then?” She pulled her mother’s necklace out of her pocket and put it in his hand. “We will exchange them later.”
He placed the necklace in his leather vest pocket. “I will guard it with my life. Till I see you again.” He reached out and kissed her hand.
She blushed. “Till I see you again.”
She watched Anne and Henri disappear into the tree line, knowing she’d count the minutes till that moment.
Finally, the tide was turning in her favor.
King Georg was locked in the dungeons next to a skeleton that had fared far worse than he. She couldn’t even remember who the poor soul was, but she knew Georg the moment she saw him. Even after all these years, his blue eyes were still brazen.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Ingrid cackled, her voice sounding so unlike her own. “Who do you think, darling Georg? It is I, your wife.”
“My wife died at your queen’s hands when Snow was merely a girl!” Georg thundered.
Ingrid rattled the bars. “And your new wife stands right here in front of you, masked in the ultimate disguise.”
“Dark magic!” He pointed a wobbly finger in her direction. “You’re a witch!”
“Yes, you should know that by now,” Ingrid said with another laugh. “Have you missed me?”
“You will not win this fight, Ingrid,” Georg said. “She will kill you.”
“I’d like to see her try.” Then Ingrid turned on her heel and left him there to rot.
By the time she reached her chambers, the mirror was alive with news.
“She is still in shadows, but the boy has stepped into the light,” the mirror revealed. “He is here in your castle, in plain sight.” The mirror showed the prince sneaking in through a door with the help of the same girl who had been with Snow the day before. Ingrid watched as the girl lowered her hood. She recognized her immediately. It was the tailor’s daughter. She and her mother would pay for this disloyalty. Later.
So the cowardly girl had sent the boy in first. She looked at the apple still in her possession. Maybe she didn’t need to use it on the girl, after all. The boy wouldn’t even see it coming. She could finally get to him, picking off Snow’s allies one by one. This would only motivate the girl to get to the castle quicker. Her end would then be imminent.
Poison the boy instead, the voice in her head said. Or maybe it was the mirror. She could never be sure anymore.
Katherine’s smoky image appeared again. It stared at Ingrid somberly, making her feel uneasy. There wasn’t a moment of the day that she didn’t see her dead sister now. She was going mad, wasn’t she? Snow had done this to her.
Ingrid watched the boy descend the steps to the kitchen. The tailor’s daughter slipped back up the stairs again and out of view. Perhaps she was going back for Snow—which meant the boy was alone. The situation couldn’t be more perfect.
“The end is near, the sun is high,” the mirror said. “If you don’t choose, we shall surely die.”
Never.
She had a better plan. She laced her fingers together and smiled wickedly. “I think it’s time I met Snow White’s prince.”
Something was wrong.
The sun was now high in the sky and Anne still had not returned. The others were growing anxious and so was Snow.
Had Anne been caught sneaking Henri inside the castle? Was she in danger? Was Henri? Snow couldn’t bear the thought of either of them in the queen’s clutches.
“I think we should begin to make our way to the castle,” Grumpy said.
“But Anne has not returned,” Snow reminded him. The woods were so quiet she could hear passersby talking as they approached. Every time she heard a voice, she thought it was Anne.
She had a sudden urge to rush to the castle to see for herself, but that was foolish. She’d give herself away the minute she stepped onto the grounds. She needed to wait here and trust that Anne would come back for her.
“It is getting too busy in these parts to stay here,” Grumpy told her. “We must start to disband and make our way into the village without rousing suspicion.”
That made sense. But where was Anne? She heard rustling in the bushes, and she and Grumpy turned around. Several men moved in closer with their weapons. Anne burst through the trees, sounding breathless.
“Anne!” Snow ran to her. The two quickly embraced. “I’m so glad you are safe.”
“Yes,” Anne assured her, holding her close. “And so is Henri. He’s in the kitchen.”
Snow exhaled slowly. “Good.”
Anne pulled away. “I tried to get back sooner, but there was a commotion in the castle. Guards were moving quickly and gathering weapons. For a moment, I thought they knew you were coming.” Grumpy and Snow looked at one another. “But then I saw them bring a man in to the dungeons.” Anne licked her lips nervously. “Snow, I think it was King Georg!”
Snow steadied herself. She should have known the queen wouldn’t go without a fight. She’d tried to have her killed, sent weather to destroy her, and put a price on her head. Now she had reclaimed Snow’s father. It worried her to know he was in the queen’s possession, and yet there was a part of her that was a little pleased by this development. If the king had returned to the kingdom, then his curse had been lifted.
Yes, he was in the dungeon, but she was certain Aunt Ingrid wouldn’t kill him. She knew Snow was comin
g, and her father would be used as bait.
“He will be all right,” Snow assured her. “We all will be once this is over.” Anne looked confused. “Let’s just get to the castle.”
The ragged cloak she had on would not do, but that was an easy fix. Moving to the pile of discarded clothing she had from the tailor, she pieced together something more peasantlike. She pulled her dry white hair back under a handkerchief and hoped the brown sack of a dress she had on looked more kitchen appropriate. The thing itched like crazy. How did people wear such things? She had long forgotten.
Slipping through her corridor, she found a guard and spoke to him in the shadows, making like one of those incessant maids who used to always be hovering about till she’d had most of them dismissed. “You! The queen wants you to fetch Mrs. Kindred at once and send her to the market for fresh herbs. Her Majesty would like roast duck for dinner and she won’t like it if I tell her no for an answer.”
“Yes, miss.” The guard hurried off.
If the woman did come back with a roast duck for dinner, it would be a feast worth savoring. By evening, Ingrid would have triumphed, and the mirror would know she had been right to fight for all the things she had worked for.
Ingrid clutched her basket of apples as she rushed through the shadows. She went down the stairs, feeling the air grow cooler as she reached the basement. She smelled a stew bubbling on the hearth when she entered the room. Mrs. Kindred was gone and the room was empty. Or so it seemed. Quietly, she walked around, looking for places large enough for a prince to hide.
Her eyes landed on the large cupboard. They’d had one just like it in her home with Katherine as a child. It was always almost empty, never holding the things she needed to make meals. But this cupboard should be full of flour and sugar and other necessities. Ingrid glanced at the table. All those items were on top of it instead of locked up tight.
She walked to the cabinet and opened the door. There was the prince, crouched down inside, looking sweaty and worried. Perfect. “What do we have here?”
The prince jumped out, wearing a guard’s uniform. Where had he procured that?
“Please don’t say anything,” the prince said. “I’m not here to steal anything. Mrs. Kindred said I could stay here for a spell.”
That woman would be dismissed immediately.
Well, after the roast duck was served.
“Of course!” Ingrid croaked. “But it’s much more comfortable out here than in a cabinet. Come!”
The boy hesitated. “I’m not sure I should be seen.”
“Nonsense!” Ingrid said. “I’m Mrs. Kindred’s assistant and I’m the only one who will be down here while she’s gone. Come. Sit. Eat something! You look dreadful.”
The boy laughed good-naturedly. “It was hot in there. Thank you, kind woman.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and made herself look busy around the kitchen, moving spoons and bowls and not doing much else. Her eyes never left the basket of apples on the table. “So, are you hungry?”
“A little,” he admitted. “But, please, don’t go to any trouble. Just giving me somewhere to stay right now is all I need.”
Ingrid waved her arm in the air. It burned as she made the motion; she was still in pain. “I insist.” Moving to the basket of apples, Ingrid eyed the poison one on top of the pile.
Choose, the mirror called to her.
She ignored it, her hands shaking as she reached for the basket. She held out the poisoned one in her wrinkled hands. “Here. A lovely apple. Do you like apples?”
The prince smiled as he stared at her outstretched hand. He was a handsome boy. Such a pity the princess had dragged him into this mess. “Yes, I do. They look delicious.”
“Wait till you taste one, dearie.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Her heart started to thump and she felt every nerve in her body tingling. “Go on, take it.”
The prince took the apple from her hands. “Thank you for your kindness.”
“Of course! Fairest apples in the land!” They’re to die for.
She held her breath as he brought the apple to his lips. She watched anxiously as he bit down and took his first—and last—bite. The change in his face was instant.
“I think there is something wrong with this,” he said.
He stumbled backward, falling into a pile of pots and sending lids clattering to the floor. He reached for something in his pocket, but pulled out nothing. If it was supposed to be a weapon, he had lost it. She stood there, lacing her fingers with pleasure, and watched him collapse on the floor.
“I feel so strange.” He looked at her. “Help me.”
She watched as the apple fell from his hand and rolled across the floor. It landed with the bite mark visible. It was already beginning to brown.
Ingrid let out a cackle so loud she thought it might wake the dead.
Snow followed Anne through the forest, her mind on her father and Henri and the castle looming in the distance.
They had planned for everything one could plan for, and the rest would be up to fate.
Stay with me, Mother, she thought, watching a flock of birds fly overhead, making their way to the castle and possibly the aviary. Help me save our kingdom.
Her mother didn’t reply, of course. Snow hadn’t seen her in her dreams since the night she’d dreamed of the mirror. Her father was now imprisoned and Henri was hiding somewhere in the castle, his life in danger. All of their lives were. The men had set out in different directions to slip into the village unnoticed and were ready to fight for her. Everyone had put themselves in the line of fire for her. She refused to do anything but succeed.
But what would a successful outcome truly be? She felt Henri’s knife in her skirt pocket and patted it as if to remind herself it was there. Her father wanted the Evil Queen dead. Would it come to that? She couldn’t even imagine holding the knife in her hand, let alone trying to harm someone with it. She wasn’t her aunt. She didn’t kill in cold blood. She hoped for the thousandth time that taking the mirror would be enough to make her aunt leave and never look back. If not, she’d have to reassess.
They made their way down the rural path, through the brambles, for what felt like an eternity, the castle looming above them.
“This way.” Anne beckoned, leading Snow through an entrance to the village that was unusually quiet. The streets that she’d thought would be bustling were empty. She noticed a proclamation nailed to a wrought iron post. There was to be a celebration at noon and all villagers were expected to attend. The timing of this unexpected occasion filled her heart with dread. Did this have to do with her father?
Before she could even really begin to wonder what it was about, they heard shouting, and the sound of someone running. Had Grumpy started the invasion too soon?
A man rushed past them with a wild look in his eyes.
“The queen is a witch!” he shouted, getting in Snow’s face. “Steer clear of the town square—run! Hide! Or Queen Ingrid will curse you, too.”
Curse?
Snow took off running, ignoring the cries of Anne and the wailing in the streets. She pushed her way to the front of the crowd and saw him lying there.
It wasn’t her father. It was Henri.
Her Henri. Lying in a glass coffin.
“No!” she cried, pushing her way inside the gates and up to the platform, where he lay as pale as death. His body was on display in its glass tomb. She choked down a sob as she reached him, knowing full well her magic had dissolved the minute she’d entered the castle gates.
“It’s the princess!” someone cried.
“Snow! Wait!” she heard Anne shout.
But she couldn’t. She had to reach Henri. She opened the glass coffin lid and lay her head on his chest, listening for the most important sound in the world: his beating heart.
She didn’t hear it. Instead, she felt herself being ripped off the platform and dragged toward the castle by a guard, who was laughing in her face. “Welcome home, Sn
ow White.”
From her window, she could see the pandemonium, and she drank it in like the most wondrous elixir. The boy’s body was on display for the entire village to see, and the fear on their faces was palpable. She watched as Snow White was dragged away from the boy’s glass coffin. The princess would be delivered to her chambers at any moment. Snow White’s “army,” if one could even call it that, had been scared away.
Ingrid turned away from the window with a feeling of smug satisfaction. The mirror had been wrong. She could have it all.
Choose, the mirror surprisingly implored her again. Ingrid looked toward the mirror’s room and saw Katherine and her master watching sadly. She ignored them and went straight to her door, where she heard a sudden commotion.
Seconds later, a guard opened the door, tossed Snow White inside, and quickly shut the door behind him, as instructed.
Ingrid watched as Snow fell to the floor, a look of horror written on her face. Her plan had worked. Snow White was broken. Now it was time to finish her off.
“Get up!” Ingrid croaked, and Snow lifted her head in surprise.
“Who are you?” Snow whispered, staring at Ingrid.
Ingrid rolled her eyes. Sometimes she forgot she hadn’t had time to reverse the hag spell yet, despite her wrinkled hands. “I’m the one who cursed your prince,” she cackled, and Snow’s face paled. Ingrid’s voice deepened. “Yes. It is me. I am your queen, child! You’re not the only one who knows how to cloak your appearance with magic. Now rise and show some respect.” Snow White stood. “Come with me!” Ingrid beckoned. Katherine and her master walked silently alongside her, but Ingrid wasn’t worried. The mirror needs to see how this all ends, she thought. Then it will never question me again.
The chamber was dark except for the mirror, which was smoking and glowed green and yellow.
Snow stared at it in horror. “So it’s true. This is the source of your power. A magic mirror.”