Half Upon a Time

by James Riley

  “The Wolf King might be gone now too,” Jack said quietly. “The only one of Snow White’s group that anyone’s seen since then is Rapunzel, who is now queen of the Western Kingdoms. We know they succeeded in defeating the Wicked Queen somehow, because all the Queen’s armies dispersed and the Great War ended. But Snow White, the Wicked Queen, and the rest were never seen or heard from again. That was like twelve years ago now.”

  “So,” May said, “if no one’s seen Snow White since, how did she end up in the real world?”

  “The real what?” Jack said.

  “The real world,” May said. “Where I’m from.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, how did she end up in Punk?”

  “She must have hidden herself there,” Jack said. “Some stories say that Snow White broke the Queen’s Mirror during their final battle. And when your grandmother was taken, the Huntsman told the little monster things to look for a missing piece of the Mirror.” Jack paused, then slowly turned to look at the necklace hanging around May’s neck.

  She noticed his gaze and pulled the golden crown out from under her shirt. “This?” she said. “You don’t really think … this is a piece of the Queen’s Magic Mirror?”

  “She told you to keep it hidden,” Jack said. “And if it is, that might be all that’s been stopping the Wicked Queen from coming back. If she had a working Mirror, she’d be all-powerful again.” Jack swallowed hard. “Which means the only thing keeping the Wicked Queen from taking over the entire world is that necklace.”

  May shot him a dark look. “Well, at least you’re not being overly dramatic.” Despite her sarcasm, she shuddered and slipped the necklace back under her shirt. “I’m not willing to say you’re right, but I guess you could be close to somehow being almost right. Either way, sounds like we’re going to need that help my grandmother mentioned in her note, huh?”

  “Sounds like,” Jack agreed. “Only, let’s find it in the morning.” He laid down a little more, with his head against the tree, exhaustion suddenly smacking him in the face.

  May did the same, and pretty soon their eyelids were drooping.

  “I have to warn you,” Jack said quietly. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

  “Good at what sort of thing?” May asked, opening one eye slightly.

  “Well,” Jack said, “if your grandmother is Snow White, then you really are a princess.”

  “Ha,” May said drowsily. “That a problem for you?”

  “A bit,” Jack admitted. “I can’t stand royalty.”

  May laughed softly. Jack smiled too, taking one last look at May as the princess fell asleep. She really was cute, all things considered. And she didn’t act like princesses in stories did—all useless and vulnerable and needing rescuing. Maybe some royals weren’t actually that different from the rest of the world.

  He stopped himself there—his sleepiness must have been messing with his head. May was the granddaughter of Snow White, a member of one of the oldest royal families in existence. And she’d grown up in the lap of luxury, with more wealth than he could even imagine. She was as royal as they came, and therefore was nothing like him.

  Wouldn’t it be funny if she were, though?

  The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was tiny, high-pitched laughing from all around him.

  Apparently, someone else thought it was funny too.

  Chapter 9

  Jack woke up from nightmares of a man in green to find that the forest he’d fallen asleep in was gone. Instead of leaves above him, now there were pink and white tiles, and whatever he was lying on was smooth, unlike the rough forest floor.

  He started to sit up, but something held him firmly in place. Hard ropes of some kind covered his chest and legs.

  Well, that probably wasn’t good news.

  “Hello?” Jack said, looking around as much as he could while being held in place. A massive headache pounded the sides of his skull, and for some reason, his feet were really warm. “Huntsman?” he asked more quietly, a little afraid of the answer.

  “You’re awake, darling,” said a woman in a raspy voice. The speaker leaned over his head so that Jack could see her face … except there was no face to see. Instead, a black hooded robe covered what looked to be a smooth white orb, almost like an egg.

  And then the egg cracked across the center, splitting jaggedly in half in what seemed to be a horrifying mouth. “My children found you in the forest and were growing ever so hungry!” the faceless woman said. “I almost let them eat you whole, there on the ground, I did. But that wouldn’t do, darling, no. My children deserve a home-cooked meal, they do indeed.”

  And just like that, the situation plummeted past bad and headed for can’t-get-much-worse. Despite his pounding heart and the sudden sweat all over his body, Jack took a deep breath, knowing nothing would be helped by panic—at least not until he could run screaming. “Who are you?” he asked, slowly flexing every part of his body to see how strong his bindings were. He felt a little give in the ropes around his legs, but not much.

  “I’m No-One-in-Particular,” the woman said with a small giggle, the crack in the eggshell giving the impression of sharp teeth.

  “You’re a witch,” Jack said, recognizing her nonanswer. “So you’re not going to tell me your real name?”

  “Names have power, darling,” the witch said, stepping out of Jack’s vision. For a second, he wasn’t sure where she was, but then he heard her down near his feet. “Yes, they do, don’t they, Jack?”

  Uh-oh. “My name’s not Jack,” he said. “Who told you that?”

  The witch cackled, still out of his sight. “The girl, of course, darling. The one who said your name while she slumbered! Quite a tasty treat there, darling.”

  At that, Jack abruptly stopped sweating as his insides froze up. “What did you do to her?” he said quietly, barely able to hear his own voice over his heartbeat.

  The witch put a hand on his leg, and where she touched him, his skin went numb. “Don’t you worry about her, darling, yes. She’s quite safe, she is. Recognized her necklace, I did, and that one’s worth more alive than in my stomach, yes. But you, darling, you’re another tale altogether, yes. You’re to go in the oven, for dinner. Then we’ll see if we can’t trade your friend to the Wicked Queen for some dessert.”

  And then something sharp pressed into his skin next to the witch’s hand. Jack bit his lip to keep from yelling out in pain, only there wasn’t any. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be cutting him, only his pants. “Don’t fret, darling,” the witch said. “I’m just removing your clothing skin … gives such a burnt flavor if you leave it on, darling.”

  The witch brought the sharp object down again and sliced.

  The feeling of sharp metal on his skin sent Jack into a terrified frenzy, and he frantically kicked out with both legs. He missed at first, but a second kick managed to knock the witch’s hand away slightly, sending the sharp metal in her hand right into the rope tying Jack down.

  Suddenly, he was free, as cutting the rope on his legs had loosened the rest of his bindings. Jack quickly pushed himself up enough to see the witch, then launched his foot right at the witch’s eggshell face.

  The kick connected, knocking the witch backward off her feet. Jack quickly pulled the rest of the strangely sticky ropes off himself, then threw his legs over the side of the table, noticing for the first time why his feet had been so warm. Only a few inches from his toes was the most enormous black metal oven he’d ever seen.

  And then a gnarled claw sunk into the table next to him.

  “Oh no, darling,” said the witch, her white head rising up over the side of the table. His kick had knocked the witch’s hood off, because beneath it …

  Beneath it was nothing at all. The white orb that made up her head didn’t go past the halfway point, like someone had broken the eggshell in two. The back was completely hollow.

  And not only was her head empty, she now had an indentation in the shell where he�
��d kicked her. As Jack watched with horror, the dent slowly pushed back out with a nauseating pop.

  “You mustn’t struggle, darling,” the witch said, shuddering to her feet as she pulled her hood back on. “That won’t do at all, not at all. You’ll make your meat all tough, yes you will, and—”

  Jack kicked her again, but this time, her gnarled old hand came out of nowhere to catch his foot. She held it in place for a second, then cruelly twisted it, sending a lightning bolt of pain all the way up to his waist.

  “It’s rude to interrupt, darling,” the empty face said. The witch yanked upward on his leg, pulling Jack up and off the table, dangling him in midair. “I intend to crack these little bones,” the witch said in a delighted tone. “Yes I do. There are such tasty flavors in your little bones, darling, and they’re just going to waste.”

  Jack kicked out desperately, trying to free himself from her grip, but the witch just held on tighter, her claws cutting into his skin. Giving up on his legs, Jack groped around on the strangely sticky floor for something to hit her with, but there was nothing within reach.

  The witch yanked the oven door open, and the heat from inside exploded over both of them. The witch bent to look Jack right in the face as he swung helplessly over the floor. “Thank you, darling,” she said, drool dripping out of the crack that was her mouth. “Thank you for letting me eat you.”

  As Jack stared in horror, her mouth began to close in on his leg, as if she was going to take a bite out of him right then and there. He punched her with both hands, but his blows just sank into her robes as if there was no body to hit. As the witch’s faceless head got closer, a flickering tongue pushed past the cracked mouth, licking the edges in anticipation as she closed in.

  And then something startlingly red and blue slammed into the witch’s head, knocking her over.

  Jack crashed to the floor, landing right on top of the witch. He frantically pushed himself off the witch’s squirming body and tried to crawl away from her on the sticky floor but didn’t get very far.

  And then hands pulled the witch’s body away from him. May, a disgusted look on her face, had hooked her hands underneath the witch’s arms and was dragging her body toward the black ropes that had tied Jack up. On the floor next to May lay a large blue and red circle with a white stick.

  It was a lollipop, easily as big around as Jack’s head.

  “Uh … what?” he said, having trouble following.

  May quickly circled the ropes around the witch’s body, then pulled them tight, eliciting a groan from the groggy witch.

  Jack grabbed the table and slowly pulled himself to his feet, his legs still wobbling under him. “How …? Where did you come from?”

  May nodded over his shoulder. “She tied me up and threw me in the closet.” The princess smiled. “She might want to empty it out next time instead of leaving all kinds of sharp gardening tools around for someone to cut themselves free with.”

  Jack grunted. “I’m actually kind of glad she didn’t think that far. And … the lollipop?”

  May picked her weapon up off the floor. “What, this?” she said. “Have you taken a look around?”

  Jack raised an eyebrow, then took a closer look around the room. “Oh, wow,” he said, his breath catching in his throat.

  The walls, the ceiling, the furniture: Everything was made of candy.

  Peppermint chairs had gumdrops for cushions. Walls made of graham crackers were held in place by white frosting. The table Jack had woken up on was made of chocolate bars; the end nearest the oven had even melted a bit. And the ropes now tied around the witch looked to be black licorice strings braided together.

  The oven was metal, probably for practical reasons, but the chimney above it seemed to be made of hard toffee. The colors on the ceiling that he’d noticed when he woke up were actually … well, he couldn’t tell what kind of candy they were, but they looked good. Even the windows looked like thin panes of lollipop candy.

  Jack’s stomach rumbled in spite of everything. “It’s … it’s a candy house!” he said, taking a step toward the graham cracker walls. As he walked, the sticky floor caught his attention: peanut brittle. “Don’t you want to try it?!” he asked the princess, fighting off a wild desire to taste everything at once.

  May gave him an exasperated look. “Are you kidding?” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of … Jack, you’re not going to eat any! After what the witch was going to do to you? Do you know how disgusting that is?!”

  “Very?” Jack said, not really listening as he considered the chocolate table.

  May gagged. “She’s been walking on this stuff! Sitting on it! Not to mention the fact that I haven’t seen a bathroom. And you’re going to put it in your mouth?”

  “It’s candy,” Jack said, running his fingers over the chocolate table. “Who cares where it’s been?”

  May sighed. “I can’t tell you how disgusted I am right now. At least don’t eat the floor. Or the chairs or tables. The walls might be the cleanest, up high.”

  Jack nodded and climbed up onto the chocolate table to get close enough to the wall for a taste. He picked a frosting seam to try first, put a hand on either side of it, then stuck out his tongue and licked the wall.

  A sugary explosion burst in his mouth, and he almost fainted in pleasure. It was as if every candy or dessert he’d ever eaten had been in preparation for this one moment! The sweetness, the texture … it was making him light-headed!

  Actually, it really was making him light-headed. And when had the room started spinning?

  And then everything went dark, and Jack was falling. He heard May scream something right before he tumbled off the table and slammed into the floor.

  A few seconds later, Jack opened his eyes to find May standing over him, shaking her head in amazement. “I hope that was worth it,” she said, pulling him up to a seated position, then leaning him against the same wall he’d just tasted.

  “It almost was,” he said, still a little faint. “Too bad … she must have poisoned all the candy.”

  “Poisoned it?” May asked. “Is that what happened?”

  “I should have realized,” Jack said, shaking off the lingering effects of the frosting. “Of course she’d poison it. That’s probably how she caught most of her prey. Bait the trap with a house made of candy, then add a little something to knock out anyone who eats it. Wham, she’s got dinner.”

  “That’s pleasant,” May said, helping Jack up. “But that’s not how she got us. How exactly did we get here, anyway?”

  “She mentioned something about her children,” Jack said, his head clearing as he slowly followed May to the candy house’s front door.

  “Her children? Wonder what she meant by that?” May asked as she yanked the door open. One look outside, and the princess immediately slammed it shut and spun around with a look of terror in her eyes.

  “What?” Jack asked, his stomach going queasy, and not from the frosting. “What was out there?”

  In a very small voice, she said, “I think they’re her children …?”

  Jack frowned. “Okay, so there are a few kids. We should be able to get past them.” He picked up a nearby lollipop. “Especially if we have weapons,” he said with a smile, a smile that May didn’t return. “What?” he asked her again.

  “A lollipop’s not gonna cut it, Jack,” May said quietly.

  From outside, Jack heard a giggle, the same one he’d heard before falling asleep. A second giggle quickly joined it, then a third, and soon what sounded like hundreds of the creatures began laughing right outside the door.

  A second later, the witch began laughing too. “Come in, my children!” she shouted. “I know I said the girl was to be left alone, but mother’s changed her mind. Come untie us, and we shall feast on both of these delicious morsels!”

  Chapter 10

  Jack sighed, grabbed May’s lollipop from the floor, and knocked the cackling witch on the head. May, meanwhile, grab
bed one of the peppermint chairs and slammed it down into the peanut brittle floor to hold the door shut, just in time: The chair crunched into place just as one of the little giggling monsters outside pushed the door open, its little hand reaching in. As the chair slammed the door shut again, the creature’s cry of pain harmonized eerily with the witch’s.

  “There’s no escape, my darlings!” the witch screamed. “My children will not let you leave until they’ve eaten their fill!”

  “Can you shut her up?!” May yelled. Jack swung the lollipop again, but this time the witch was ready. Her cracked eggshell mouth grabbed the lollipop and crunched down, biting it in half.

  “Gah!” Jack shouted, dropping his half of the lollipop.

  “I took her down on my first try, you know,” May pointed out.

  “She’s not the main concern,” Jack said. “We need to find something to use against her children!” As he spoke, they could hear loud scraping sounds on the door, followed by little plaintive cries, as if the witch’s children were babies crying for milk.

  “What about that?” May said, pointing at the curved knife the witch had been using to cut open Jack’s clothing when he first woke up.

  “We might want to think bigger,” he said. “One knife’s not going to protect us very long against all those creatures.”

  “Fine,” May said. She paused, then grabbed Jack and pulled him toward a small door in the corner of the house. “We still have all the noncandy tools in the closet, though!” she said, yanking the door open. “Maybe there’s something in here we can use as a weapon.”

  Jack made his way over to her, dodging random gardening equipment she threw out of the closet. A hoe, a saw, a rake … none of these were big enough. There was some wood for the fire, still not enough … oh, his grandfather’s bag! Jack grabbed it as it flew by and threw it over one shoulder. May hadn’t stopped, though. A hammer whizzed by his leg, followed by a broom, then a metal pot …

  A broom?

  “Hold on!” Jack yelled, spinning around to pick up the broom. He hated to use magic, but it didn’t look like they had much of a choice.