Mirror, Mirror

by Laura McConaughay

  As it flew through the air, the blue shawl seemed to grow larger and larger, until it was the size of a flag, then a tent, then a sail. When it finally landed on the dog, it had grown so large that it actually covered those terrible green eyes, and the soldier could heave a sigh of relief.

  Turning away from the dog, the soldier went and opened the first chest wide. The gleam of gold almost blinded him, and the soldier buried his hands wrist-deep into the coins, picking them up and letting them fall back through his fingers as he stared in wonder.

  The soldier abandoned the silver pieces he carried, and eagerly filled his knapsack, pockets, cap, and even his boots with the precious golden coins instead, then began walking back to the brightly lit hall. Halfway there he realized that he had forgotten the blue shawl, but he was so weighted down with gold that he did not want to go back for it.

  He crossed the hall and climbed the stairs, and as he fumbled with the silken rope he began calling for the old woman. At first there was no response, and as he remembered how long the climb had been, he worried for a moment that she would not be able to hear him. After a moment however he jumped, for he heard her voice as if she was standing right next to him.

  “Have you got the tinderbox?” her voice asked.

  The soldier spun about, looking for her. “Where are you? How are you doing that?” he demanded.

  “I am speaking through the tree roots, of course,” the voice replied impatiently. “Now, do you have the tinderbox?”

  The soldier relaxed a bit, then gave a grimace as her words sank in. “No, by damn, I quite forgot it.” He turned about and walked back down the stairs again, much hampered by the gold he carried.

  Reaching the hall once again, the soldier began looking around at the piles of valuable things. It took him far longer than he wanted to spend on the task, but eventually he found an old, battered-looking tinderbox tucked away in an end-table’s bottom drawer. Happy to have found it at last, the soldier picked it up and turned it over in his hands as he looked at it.

  It was made of silver and green enamel, and though it was now tarnished and chipped, he realized that at one point it must have been quite pretty. Though he didn’t see what anyone would want with it now, he shrugged and tucked it into one of his pockets, spilling a few coins in the process.

  He made his slow way back to the top of the stairs, and tied the rope around his waist. “I’ve got it now!” he cried. He began feeling for the first of the handholds, and braced himself for the long climb up.

  There was no response from the old woman, but a moment later he felt a sharp tug from the rope, and the moment after that he was sailing upwards through the tree trunk. He had his work cut out for him not to get his hands or feet caught on the sides of the trunk as he was pulled, and indeed his ascent was so swift that he did not even have time to wonder how the old woman with her twisted back had found such strength to pull him upwards so quickly.

  Before he knew it, the soldier found himself in a heap on the grass outside of the tree, while the old woman fidgeted in front of him. The soldier blinked and looked around in confusion. The bright glare of the hanging lamps was gone, the silken rope was gone, and the terrible dogs were nothing but a memory, but gold coins were slipping out of his pockets and boots, so he knew that it wasn’t a dream.

  “Where is it?” the old woman asked, poking at him with her walking stick. “My tinderbox. Give it to me, quickly!”

  “What are you going to do with it?” the soldier asked as began digging through his pockets for the tinderbox.

  “That’s none of your business,” the old woman snapped. “You have your money, now give me the tinderbox.”

  The soldier paused, looking up at the woman from where he sat on the ground. The sun was bright overhead, and in her eagerness to retrieve her lost possession the woman had left the shadow of the tree. As the honest daylight shone down upon her, the soldier could see that it was not only her back that was twisted, but all of her.

  Her hands and arms were gnarled like ancient tree roots forced from the ground, and evil had etched long, harsh, bruise-like lines across her face. The charms and chimes that hung from her shawls the soldier now saw were actually dangerous runes, carved from horn and bone. In short, the soldier realized, she was not an old woman, but a witch.

  The soldier jumped to his feet with fear leaping through his heart. He had not survived the war and braved the three terrible dogs for nothing however, and his courage would not let him flee now. Instead, he drew his sword and flashed out with it boldly. Before the witch could raise her arms to defend herself, her head had been cut off.

  A terrible screeching filled the air, and the body of the witch began to writhe. As the soldier watched, it fell to the ground beside the severed head, and scores of mice and rats began running out of the witch’s clothes until nothing was left but a loose pile of scarves and shawls. The witch’s head crumbled swiftly to dust, and when the dust collapsed and began blowing away on the wind, the screaming ceased.

  The soldier pushed the tinderbox back into his pocket, staring at the spot where the witch had once been. After a moment he shrugged to himself, then took one of the witch’s shawls and used it to tie up all the gold coins. Heaving the bundle onto his back, the soldier made his way back onto the old highway. He began marching once more down the road, still seeking his future, but this time with his fortune already on his back.

  II

  Late in the day, just as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon, the soldier arrived at a town. It was a very nice town, and when its citizens spoke fondly of their “city” nobody ever bothered to argue with them. There was a wall and a gate, a town guard with matching uniforms, three different inns, and a market square, so they had everything one could wish for in a town. To top it off, at the far end of the town there stood a snug little castle with a burnished tower, made entirely of copper, which gleamed merrily in the light of the sunset.

  By this time the soldier was dusty, thirsty and weary, and was full ready to set his bundle down and take his ease. He went to the nicest of the three inns and put up in their best room. He ordered a sumptuous meal of all his favorite foods, and asked for hot water to wash with.

  Soon the soldier was clean and full, and was happily leaning back in his chair with a freshly-refilled mug of ale. He was rich, with more money than he rightly knew what to do with, and the servants who worked at the inn saw to his every wish. A comment from the bootblack caused the soldier to send out messages the next day, and soon the town’s tailor, cobbler, and haberdasher were all hurrying to the inn and vying with each other to fill the soldier’s orders first.

  When the soldier next left the inn, he was bedecked as befitted the finest and richest of gentlemen. He wore robes of fine damask, his shoes had the most stylish points to them, and he had taken an indefinite lease on the most magnificent rooms in the town. He caught many an eye, and soon people came to call on him. With some elaborate dinners and fine gifts, it did not take him long at all to make some new friends.

  One day the soldier was walking through the town with some of his new friends, listening to them bragging about all the wonders that the city had to offer. “And of course,” concluded one of them, “our princess is the most lovely maid that ever breathed.”

  This naturally caught the soldier’s attention. “Really?” he asked. “When do I get to see her?”

  “Nobody sees her,” his friend replied. “She is kept locked in the copper tower, and no one is allowed in or out except for the royal family.”

  “What?” exclaimed the soldier in mock dismay. “You tell me of such beauty, and then deny me the chance to look upon it?” He thought for a moment longer, then added in a more serious tone, “Why would her father do such a thing? It must be very lonely for her, alone in that tower.”

  “Rumor has it that there was a prophesy made at the princess’ birth,” said another of the soldier’s friends, walking on his other side. “It’s said
that the princess is destined to marry a common soldier, and that the king cannot abide the thought of so unequal a match for his only child.”

  “Indeed!” said the soldier, intrigued as well he might be. “Then perhaps destiny means me to meet this princess after all!”

  His friends both laughed heartily, for they knew he was fond of speaking of his soldiering days. “No, no,” said one of them flatteringly. “I said a common soldier, while clearly you are one of the most uncommon of them all!”

  The soldier laughed and the group moved on. Before they turned off the high street however, the soldier turned to look over his shoulder at the copper tower. His friends soon demanded his attention however, and he turned back towards them with little reluctance.

  The thought of the copper tower and the princess residing within it often entered the soldier’s mind in the following weeks, and he soon resolved to do what he could to try to see her. Not all of his gold, nor his newly-won friends and influence did him any good however, for the king still absolutely refused to let anyone see the princess, and eventually the soldier had to abandon his plan.

  In spite of this, the soldier passed his time very comfortably. He had many fine friends, elegant rooms, and expensive clothing. Instead of pursuing his future, as he had once set out to do, he did nothing but what struck him as pleasant at the time. He did not work, and lived only for pleasure.

  The soldier’s gold, which had been so easily gained, was as easily spent. He gave handfuls of coins to every retired soldier that he met, and his new friends had only to hint at a financial hardship for him to press money upon them. He gave balls and parties and midnight suppers, and always had the best of everything. He was constantly surrounded by people who showered him with praise, and it was easy for him to start thinking of himself as quite the fellow indeed.

  Since he was constantly sending money out into the world, without bringing any back in, it did not take very long before the soldier’s wealth had all disappeared. He had to leave his magnificent suite at the finest inn, and moved to a drafty attic room instead. His clothes began to grow ragged, and his friends stopped coming to see him now that he could not lavishly entertain them.

  The change had not come all at once of course, for the soldier knew that there were fewer and fewer coins left in his satchel every time he reached in. At first he tried to find work, but his friends just laughed. Later, when they realized that he was serious, they all found excuses for why they could not help, and then one by one stopped coming by to see him. So he looked elsewhere for work, but jobs were hard to come by, for unemployed and down-at-luck soldiers were two a penny in this town.

  The soldier began to grow more worried, and one day he struck out by himself to walk the old highway once more. He tried to march the way he used to, but he had put on weight from all the rich foods he had been eating, and he was soon winded. Dismayed and embarrassed though he was, the soldier was still able to laugh at himself, and he forced himself to keep walking until he thought he had reached the spot where he had first met the witch.

  He left the road and began walking amongst the trees, searching for the tall, hollow tree with the hole at the top. He thought that if he could just find the tree, that he would be able to get to the brightly-lit hall again, and from there to the chambers with the piles of money. He told himself that if he could just find it again, he would satisfy himself with just the silver pieces, or even - as the day wore on and he still did not find the tree - just the copper pennies.

  Despite this offered compromise, he did not find the tree, and in the end he was obliged to give up the search. He told himself that it was just as well, since if he had found the tree and entered the chambers, the dogs may have torn him apart now that he didn’t have the witch’s blue shawl. Nor, he reflected wryly, was he feeling particularly brave.

  The soldier began walking sadly back to town, making plans as he went. He decided that he would take his last handful of coins and buy a cart and horse, and try to make a living as a waggoner.

  No sooner had he decided this than the soldier came upon an old, old friend - a fellow veteran of the late war. The two men exclaimed when they saw each other, and heartily pounded each other on the back in greeting. They exchanged genial insults, and each asked the other how he was doing. They both lied in reply and said they were doing quite well, but it soon became clear to the soldier that his friend was very badly off indeed.

  Without a moment’s qualm the soldier forced his old friend to accept his last handful of coins, vowing airily that he had plenty more at home. Though reluctant at first to accept, his friend - who truly was in need - eventually accepted, and they parted ways once more.

  As he resumed his walk, the soldier soon found himself to be marching more firmly, and realized that he was whistling as he went. Now that he had nothing left to lose, he no longer feared his approaching poverty, and was able to face his grim prospects with the same gallant confidence that he had worn when facing the enemy guns.

  When he returned to town, the soldier moved with his few remaining belongings to his new home under the attic eaves of a drafty, ratty old boarding house. It was dark under the eaves, and the soldier thought wistfully of how nice it would be to have a light, even if it were only a small candle. He could not afford even so simple a luxury however, and he tried to resign himself to the dark.

  Thoughts of the witch must still have been in his mind however, for the soldier suddenly remembered the tinderbox that he had recovered, and had almost never looked at since. He pulled the tinderbox out of his battered knapsack and opened it, feeling its contents gingerly. With delight he traced the waxy outline of what was undoubtedly a candle, and he set it on the floor while he pulled out the flint and steel.

  Crouching over the candle, he struck the flint and steel together. A few sparks flew out, but they did not light the candle. Instead, a pair of big yellow eyes, the size of tea-cups, seemed to float in front of the soldier’s face.

  “What do you wish of me, master?” a gruff, growly voice asked in the darkness.

  The soldier stumbled backwards, amazed. He laughed at the sheer impossibility of what he was seeing - or half-seeing, for the candle was not lit - and thought he may have gone mad. “I wish you would bring me some money,” he said recklessly.

  The yellow eyes disappeared, and the soldier had just started to think that perhaps the hallucination was over when the eyes reappeared. There was a thud and a clinking sound, and the soldier reached forward and felt a small pouch tied with a rough cord lying on the floor in front of him.

  With trembling fingers the soldier untied the cord, and reached inside. When he felt the cold, hard shape of pennies beneath his fingers, he began to think that perhaps this was not a hallucination after all.

  The soldier picked up the coin purse and dashed outside. He ran to the market place, where he bought bread and candles. He lit the candles at the fire downstairs, then carried them up the many flights of stairs to his attic room. He held the candle high, but could not see the dog anywhere. Befuddled but momentarily content, the soldier sat down on the floor of his garret and ate his bread, thinking hard all the while.

  With his stomach full and the attic well-lit, the soldier set himself to the task of figuring out what had caused the dog to appear. It did not take him long to find the trick to the tinderbox, and he soon discovered that if he struck the flint once, the guardian of the coppers appeared. If he struck the flint twice, the dog who guarded the silver pieces appeared, and when he struck it three times, the dog with eyes as big as windmills, who had guarded the gold coins, appeared.

  Now the soldier truly knew the value of the tinderbox, and he finally understood why the witch had been so anxious to have it back. Once again the soldier had as much money as he wanted - even more than he’d had before, since now he could have the dogs fetch new bags of coins whenever he wanted.

  The soldier returned to his magnificent apartments, and once again dressed in elegant clothes. His
fine friends soon noticed his return to prosperity, and began to visit him again. Everyone fawned over him once more, but the soldier was wiser now, and knew how little value such friendship actually had.

  The soldier was also wiser in other ways, and was not as reckless as he had been at first. He did not indulge so deeply in the sumptuous dinners, and he took care to walk as often as he used his fancy carriage, so that he once more became slender and strong. He gave away even more coins than he had before, but he also helped people in other ways - finding jobs for those in need, and helping found new businesses and charities.

  Soon he had money coming in as well as going out, and he was able to think about his activities with satisfaction, for he no longer lived solely for pleasure, but worked to help people instead. In time the soldier became respected by the town’s people, for he did much good among the poor, and even some of his fine friends came to esteem him for more than his purse.

  In spite of all the good he did, and all the people who called him friend, it one day struck the soldier that he was lonely. As soon as he became aware of it, that loneliness seemed to grow each day until the soldier felt like he would be consumed by it. During these times he thought often of the princess in the copper tower, for his first thoughts about her had been that she must be lonely as well.

  One night, when the soldier was sitting alone in his rooms, he started to long to see the imprisoned princess so strongly that he could think of nothing else. He came up with and abandoned plan after plan for ways to try to see her, when suddenly he bethought himself of the tinderbox.

  He had not had to use it in so long a time that he had almost forgotten where he had put it. After a moment however, the soldier remembered tucking it into a coat after using it the last time. Leaping to his feet, the soldier ran to his wardrobe, digging through the pockets of his clothing until he found the tinderbox and pulled it out in relief.

  He struck the flint, and the dog with eyes the size of teacups immediately appeared before him.