Mirror, Mirror

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Mirror, Mirror Page 22

by Jen Calonita


  “I am the source of my power,” Ingrid declared. “I have spent decades working for this crown! Do you think I’d really be so foolish as to let a child take it all away?”

  “Is Henri dead?” Snow whispered. She held her breath as she waited for the answer.

  Ingrid pressed her lips together. “He’s as good as dead. He had no right to enter this castle and aid you in taking away my throne.” Her eyes blazed. “How dare you challenge me?”

  “That throne belongs to my family,” Snow said shakily, but she stood straighter. Katherine moved to stand right beside her. “I know what you did to my father. I know, now, that he didn’t abandon me.”

  “That fool was in no position to run a kingdom! He was weak!” She hobbled closer, the whites of her eyes blazing.

  Snow inhaled sharply. “If you harm him . . . if you hurt him like you did my mother . . .”

  Ingrid laughed the threat away. “I don’t need to harm him. He will harm himself, without anyone to live for! He couldn’t survive without your mother!”

  “Who you had killed!” Snow cried.

  Ingrid felt a sharp pain in her right side and grew silent. She looked from Snow to Katherine, who stood so close she could’ve touched the girl if such a thing were possible. If it had been possible for Ingrid to regret one thing, it would’ve been her sister’s death. But Katherine, like her daughter, hadn’t been able to leave well enough alone. “It’s not as simple as you make it out to be,” Ingrid said quietly.

  “She was your sister,” Snow argued. “She’d brought you to the castle to have a good life, and you betrayed her. You left me motherless as a small child. You broke my father’s heart, then put a love spell on him and banished him!”

  Ingrid refused to look at Snow or Katherine when she spoke. “You were a child and couldn’t understand the ways of the world. Your mother threatened my future and gave me no choice.”

  There was a pounding at the door and both Snow and Ingrid jumped. No one had ever dared enter her chambers before, let alone make their way to her secret room and try to enter.

  “My queen!” Ingrid heard a muffled voice shout. “They’ve broken through the castle gates! We can’t hold them off; there’s too many of them! We must get you out of here.”

  Ingrid looked at Snow, who suddenly looked wiser than her years.

  “We all have choices,” Snow said, her voice stronger. “You chose to put Queen Katherine in the ground to protect your precious mirror.”

  Ingrid flew at Snow. “Do not say my sister’s name to me!”

  “My queen! You must hurry!” the voice said again.

  “Choose,” the mirror uttered for all to hear.

  “The mirror can speak?” Snow said, mesmerized by the masklike face that began to appear in the glass.

  “Soon it will be too late. Act now. Remedy your mistake!” the mirror told Ingrid.

  Ingrid covered her ears, unable to think clearly in the commotion. Snow moved in on her.

  “I know the truth now, and the rest of our people soon will, too,” Snow declared. “About all of us—King Georg, Queen Katherine—”

  Ingrid ripped at her coarse white hair, her face scrunched up with anger. “I said, do not mention my sister’s name to me!”

  “My queen! You must hurry!” the guard outside the door said again.

  “Katherine!” Snow said again, her voice louder and clearer than it had been moments before. “Katherine! Katherine! Katherine!”

  Ingrid couldn’t take it anymore. She began to scream, the sound so loud it vibrated off the walls. The cracks in the mirror began to grow.

  Her aunt’s scream was so shrill it forced Snow to cover her ears. Her aunt was doing the same thing, the sound of her own voice seemingly tearing her frail body apart.

  The once mighty Evil Queen had transformed into a hag, and Snow could not fathom why she had not turned back. The spell, Snow realized now, must be draining her.

  Now, Snow. Now! a voice inside her commanded. Now what? she wanted to ask. The voice felt like her mother’s. Perhaps it was her own. For some reason, in this cold dark room where so much evil reigned, she could feel her mother’s presence guiding her. And she could also feel a strong, building self-assurance that she had never experienced before. Despite the danger. Despite the loss, she did not feel afraid.

  The guard had said her army was invading the castle. Someone would find her father in the dungeons and set him free. Aunt Ingrid would be stripped of her crown. But what of the mirror? From the moment Snow had entered the chamber, she could feel it pulling at her, beckoning her to come closer. This mirror with the masklife face had darkened her aunt’s soul. It had convinced her to kill her sister, trick Snow’s father, and sentence Snow to death. Yes, those were Aunt Ingrid’s actions, but the mirror obviously had an influence over her. Something so heinous should not be allowed to exist. Now, Snow! Now! she heard the voice in her head say again.

  When she looked up, she could see the mirror’s glass cracking. The fissure was spreading in various directions, like a spider’s web. As it cracked, Ingrid’s wails grew louder. It was almost as if the mirror was tearing her apart, and despite all that had happened, Snow felt pity for the woman before her.

  If she destroyed the mirror before it destroyed Aunt Ingrid, would that be enough?

  Snow’s heart began to pound in her chest. She reached for Henri’s knife to see if it was still in her pocket. The cold steel was there. Her fingers grasped the handle.

  Now, Snow! Now!

  She might not have been able to strike a knife through her aunt’s heart, but she had no qualms about breaking a mirror. Snow stepped forward, the knife raised above her head.

  Her aunt slowly turned around. “What are you doing?” she cried.

  “Snow White, the fairest in the land,” the mirror spoke, and Snow faltered. “You could be so much more if you put your fate in my hands.”

  For a moment, Snow hesitated.

  “Don’t talk to her!” Aunt Ingrid screamed, but her legs seemed to fail her. She fell to the ground on her hands and knees.

  “Touch the glass and let me show you the way,” the mirror said. “You are stronger than your queen. With my help you could rule this day.”

  “NO!” Aunt Ingrid cried, and she lunged forward on her knees. “Don’t touch it!”

  Snow did not need her aunt’s guidance. She would not be fooled by the mirror’s lies.

  Snow plunged the knife deep into the fractured glass, cracking the mirror’s surface even further. The glow from the mirror began to brighten and the green soon turned to red as Snow struck the mirror again and again. Her aunt screamed, but Snow kept striking until the mirror finally shattered into a million pieces. The glass exploded, a strong wind and a sound like a roar accompanying it. It blew the Evil Queen backward and sent Snow to the ground. She covered her face as fiery red glass flew through the room, shattering the windows and plunging the entire castle into darkness.

  When she opened her eyes, all she felt was sharp pain. She held up her hands and saw blood trickling down her scaly arms. She wasn’t sure where she was.

  Ingrid looked up, startled to see the woman standing over her.

  “Katherine?” she croaked, not recognizing her own voice.

  “It’s Snow White,” the woman replied. “You will be tried for your crimes. Guards, take her away.”

  “What?” she cried as two men raised her to standing and pulled on her arms. The guards were not in uniform. In fact, they looked like peasants! She tried to pull her arms away, but they held firm. It hurt to be touched.

  The windows in the chamber were blown out, letting in the light of day. Her eyes adjusted and she noticed the glass littering the floor. She looked at her precious mirror’s frame. It was empty. The glass had been completely destroyed.

  After all the sacrifices she had made to get here—leaving her master and watching him die, having Katherine poisoned, banishing Georg, ordering the huntsman to kill Snow White, p
oisoning the prince—she was left with nothing. Her mirror, her most trusted companion and faithful servant, was gone and her life was in ruins. She stared down at her old hands, which were shaking. She couldn’t stay a hag a moment longer. Her eyes darted to her potion table, where several bottles were overturned and the liquid was dripping onto the floor. “Just give me a moment.” She needed to reverse this spell. The men wouldn’t let go of her arms. “I’m the queen! I deserve respect.”

  The men scoffed. “Doesn’t look like the queen to me. Have you seen her, Princess?”

  “No, I have not.” Snow stared at her. “This woman did away with the queen. Please take her to the dungeons, where she will think about her crimes in solitary confinement.”

  She wasn’t being sentenced to death?

  Solitary confinement didn’t scare her. She’d spent her entire life on her own.

  But then the mirror had always been by her side.

  Snow was watching silently. Outside Ingrid’s chambers, some of her faithful guards were being taken away and the halls were filled with villagers, congratulating one another and cheering. She wanted to shout that they didn’t belong in her castle, but she knew no one would listen. No one even bothered to look at the old hag that passed by them on the way to the dungeons. The men said nothing to her as she was placed in the darkened cell she’d had Georg sent to only hours before. She was alone.

  For a moment, at least.

  As Ingrid’s eyes adjusted to the light, she saw her master and Katherine appear beside her. Their ghosts—or the figments of her imagination, or her deranged mind, or whatever they truly were—were there to keep her company. Her master’s ghost quickly disappeared, but Katherine’s remained.

  How poetic that, in the end, Katherine was there for her. Her heart gave a sudden lurch as she realized all that could not be undone. And yet, it was Katherine who was at her side now. Ingrid reached out her hand to touch her sister’s specter. She watched her image slowly give a sad smile, then disappear like smoke, never to be seen again.

  Snow emerged from her aunt’s dim chambers shaky but alive, and found everyone celebrating in the darkened halls. Someone was reigniting the torches and lanterns in the hallway, flooding them with light, but Snow didn’t want to stay. She couldn’t wait to get as far away from her aunt’s quarters as she could. She suddenly felt so tired.

  “Snow! Snow!” Anne came rushing toward her and Snow collapsed into her arms, the two girls in tears. “You’re all right. When we saw the windows shatter, we feared the worst.”

  “I’m all right,” Snow assured her, and pulled back to look at her friend. “But Henri . . .”

  Anne clasped her shoulders. “I know.” Snow’s eyes welled with tears.

  “You’re hurt,” Anne said, lifting Snow’s arms, which were nicked and dripping with blood from the broken glass. “I’ll clean you up. Stay right here.”

  “No,” Snow said. “My wounds can wait. I want to see him.”

  “Your father?” Anne asked. “He’s already here.”

  Snow had meant Henri, but then she caught sight of him—her father, back at the castle. He rushed toward her with Grumpy and Doc and the other little men. Anne let go, and Snow raced toward him, falling into his arms.

  “You’re safe!” her father said, stroking her hair like he had when she was a little girl. “I have been so worried.”

  “As I have been about you,” Snow said, choking back tears. “When I heard she had you, I wasn’t sure what to think.”

  “I’m fine, but Snow . . .” Her father’s eyes searched hers hesitantly. “Henrich is . . .”

  Dead. “I know.” She couldn’t bear to say the word.

  “Is that the former king?” she heard someone say, and they both turned around.

  “King Georg? Have you come back for us?” another shouted as a crowd gathered around them.

  “Yes! The Evil Queen banished me long ago, and I am finally free of her curse, thanks to my daughter,” her father told the people assembled.

  “Get the king fresh clothes,” someone shouted, and they pulled him away.

  People all around started to cry, hugging one another and cheering, and Snow, for all her happiness for them, felt numb.

  “Snow?”

  Snow turned around and saw Happy, Sleepy, and Sneezy standing with Dopey. They removed their caps.

  “When we heard what happened to Henrich, we couldn’t believe it,” Sleepy said. “Had to see it for our own eyes.”

  “A glass coffin.” Sneezy shook his head. “Snow, we are so sorry for your loss. The guards told us they brought him up from the kitchen. It must have happened down there. Dopey found this, and he wanted you to see it.”

  Dopey stepped forward, holding up a bright red apple with a single bite taken out of it. The bite mark had turned black as coal, as if touched by magic. Snow knew then that Ingrid must have tricked him into eating a poison apple, and sent him to his death.

  “We are so sorry for your loss, Snow.” Happy shed a tear. Snow felt a lump begin to form in her throat.

  “Someone should alert his kingdom so they can come take his body,” Doc said.

  “Henrich deserves a hero’s burial,” Grumpy said in agreement. “He was a good man.” He, Doc, and Bashful removed their caps. Sneezy blew his nose into a tissue and cried. Dopey, however, kept pointing to the apple. Snow couldn’t understand what he meant to show her. It was poisoned—that much she could guess. The queen had done it. What more was there to know?

  He’s as good as dead, she remembered the old hag saying, and something about the words struck her as odd. As good as dead.

  “As good as dead” didn’t mean he was actually dead, did it? Dopey smiled at her as the realization crossed her face.

  Snow rushed out of the hallway past the others.

  “Snow! Where are you going?” Anne cried.

  The little men called to her, but she kept running.

  She needed to know for sure. She pushed her way out of the castle doors and ran to the podium, where Henri’s still body lay in the glass coffin. A crowd remained gathered outside the gates, watching.

  “It’s Snow White!” several voices cheered. “It’s the princess! She’s saved us!”

  Snow wanted to go to her people and assure them the Evil Queen was gone and wouldn’t return. But at the moment, all she could think about was Henri. As she neared his coffin, she slowed her walk. The sight of him lying there filled her with so much dread and grief, but she also felt a glimmer of hope. If there was any chance he could be alive, she had to know.

  She opened the glass lid and pressed her ear to his chest one more time. Then she held her breath and waited for a sign. Something, anything that would tell her “as good as dead” wasn’t actually dead. If she had a sign, she’d go to the enchantress. She’d tried to find a cure for this magic. But she heard nothing. Tears began to fall down Snow’s cheeks.

  “Henri, I’m so sorry,” she said, and she slipped his knife back in his pocket. She reached inside his jacket and felt her mother’s necklace. Pulling it out, she held it in her hands. His knife had helped her, but her mother’s necklace hadn’t protected him.

  Her mother had loved her father so much she would have done anything for him and Snow. True love was like that. Was that what she had been starting to have with Henri before he was ripped away from her? He looked so handsome and peaceful lying there, like he was only sleeping. She felt an urge so strong come over her that she couldn’t stop herself.

  “Till we meet again, Henri,” she whispered in his ear, and then she leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. When their lips parted, she prepared to close the lid for the last time.

  She heard a gasp, like a fish trying to find water.

  Henri’s eyes fluttered open and found hers.

  “Snow?” he croaked.

  “Henri!” Snow cried, the tears flowing harder. She pulled him to a sitting positon and heard the commotion start up around her. The dwarfs came ru
nning, as did her father and Anne. As news spread of the prince awakening, a cry of joy rang out inside the castle gates, and soon outside them as well.

  Henri looked around in wonder as Snow helped him out of the glass casket.

  “She saved him!” Happy cried, with tears of joy.

  Henri looked at Snow, who was still crying herself. “You saved me,” he repeated.

  “True love saved you,” Doc told him as Georg looked on with tears in his eyes.

  Snow and Henri looked at one another and smiled.

  Perhaps it had.

  A few months later . . .

  “Presenting Her Majesty, Queen Snow White!”

  The throne room erupted in thunderous applause.

  Her father stood in the finest of velvet robes, his crown perched atop his head where it had always belonged, but today he took it off and placed it on Snow’s own. He held her hand as she rose and stood at the edge of the throne room podium, looking out on hundreds of people. Anne was there with her mother, both of whom were now officially the royal tailors. Mrs. Kindred stood with her family, who had joined her in the kitchen. Grumpy, Sleepy, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Happy, and Doc were front and center, applauding in their new uniforms. They had been made official envoys of the queen, and it was their job to journey to villages throughout the kingdom to talk to the people and learn of their needs and problems. Snow knew they’d be grand at it (even if they would have to rein in Grumpy’s attitude from time to time). After years of spending their days in the darkest mines, they deserved to live in the light.

  As she stood in front of her people and basked in all of their newfound happiness, it seemed like she’d lived this before. She could see herself standing beside her parents in this very spot as a child, and the feeling was very much the same: she felt loved.

  After months of transition, she was on her own.

  Snow was ready. Her father had prepared her for this.

  With the Evil Queen vanquished, the kingdom welcomed change. Snow and her father had spent the last few months working together to right the wrongs done to the kingdom during Ingrid’s reign, and Snow’s ideas for improving the kingdom were put into practice. Borders were reopened and trade was welcomed, with people coming from far and wide to express their hopes for a fruitful exchange. Taxes were made more manageable, and farmers and miners enjoyed the opportunity to profit off what they’d sowed and found in the ground. Safety measures were put in place in order to make the mines less hazardous for the workers. Official forums were established so communication between the various hamlets and villages would be more open and free, and so folks could benefit from being part of larger communities.

 

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