Once Upon a Rainbow, Volume One

by Mickie B. Ashling

  I looked away, painfully ashamed of myself.

  “No man or woman can master perfection.” Oriana responded to my shame, as if I’d admitted it out loud. “It’s unreasonably cruel to expect a girl to do so, even if she is a princess.” She stepped into the room, filling my sanctuary with her presence. Everything seemed a little smaller, a little grayer. “No one can blame you for wanting time for yourself.” Staring at the painting, she murmured, “I should have expected her to be waiting for you when you took that time.”

  “Who is she?” I stared at Oriana.

  Sorrow, yearning, pity, and anger played across her face, becoming something unique and unnamable. My simple fascination seemed to pale in comparison.

  “Once upon a time, she was the kingdom’s greatest treasure. Now, she is its greatest sorrow.” The anguish in Oriana’s voice made my chest tighten in pain. I didn’t know why. “She was the fairest of them all.” With a visible effort, she turned her head. “You’ve met her.” She looked at me as if she was forcing herself to see me. “She’s the one who put the curse on you.”

  “I know.” Unbidden, a confession popped out. “Even so, I have a hard time seeing her as my enemy.”

  “Beware of that feeling.” A shudder ran through her, bending her slight frame. “She may use it against you. Don’t lose sight of it, either.” A wistful smile tugged at her lips. “It may reveal to you a side of her that’s been lost for too long.”

  Oriana didn’t say anything more about the girl in the portrait. The picture itself vanished from the tower room after my visit.

  I was disappointed at its disappearance. The painted face of the other princess haunted my dreams.

  I napped up in the tower from time to time. It was as if I were deliberately seeking out those dreams, sleeping in the spot where I’d found her portrait. Sometimes, right before I dozed off, the air filled with sparkling lights, as if cobwebs touched by morning dew surrounded me.

  One afternoon, I awoke from such a nap to discover a large oval mirror hidden behind some dusty cloths. I wasn’t sure why I’d never seen it before. Worked into its silver frame were engravings of the moon, stars, roses, thorns, leaves, and what might have been bones. No hint of dirt or tarnish touched the silver.

  I grasped the mirror by its sides. Despite its large size, it was surprisingly light.

  I looked into it.

  My reflection gazed back. She smiled. Her lips were blood red.

  I stared, as all the rosiness drained out of my skin, leaving it pale white. My hair darkened, turning black.

  No, not my hair.

  The girl in the mirror lowered her head. When she raised it, she was the princess from the portrait.

  She opened her eyes. I realized they weren’t actually jet black, but a very dark blue. It was easy to see them as being darker, surrounded as they were by dusky curling eyelashes.

  “Beautiful,” I murmured. I should have been terrified. All I could do was stare at the witch who’d cursed me.

  “Beautiful,” she agreed. Her lips curved into a smile of pure sweetness. I couldn’t believe this girl was my enemy. Not when she looked so tenderly upon me. “Just like her.”

  “Just like who?” It was like a dream, actually speaking to her for the first time. “Who are you?”

  “The fairest of them all.” Her sweet smile twisted into something bitter. “That’s the answer to both questions.” Some of the bitterness left her face as she tilted her head to regard me. “Unless I’m speaking of you.”

  “What do you mean?” She was actually answering my questions with a simple directness, which completely engaged me. “What does that title mean, ‘the fairest of them all’?”

  “It’s in the eye of the beholder.” She reached out with one pale hand as if she longed to touch me, but fingered a lock of her own midnight hair, instead. “I guess it depends on who is the beholder.”

  “Which one are you?” I leaned close to the glass. “The beholder or the beheld?”

  These weren’t the right questions. Perhaps I could get to them if I kept talking.

  More than anything, I wanted her to continue to speak to me.

  “Ask her,” the princess witch in the mirror said.

  “Ask who?” The glass was so close to my face. If I leaned any closer, my head would bump into the mirror.

  Or maybe I’d find myself in whatever place this mysterious maiden was.

  It was so tempting to find out. I could fall through the glass…

  A hand came down on the top of the mirror.

  The princess disappeared.

  All I could see was my own face reflected back. My blue eyes were wide with shock. My lips trembled.

  My own expression caught me by surprise.

  I looked up to see Oriana staring down at me, looking nothing like a “good witch.” Her blue eyes widened with a mad fury, almost popping out of her face.

  Oriana bared her teeth in a snarl that rippled through her entire countenance, distorting it.

  “How did you get your hands on my magic mirror?” She glared at me as if I’d stolen the mirror from her own private sanctuary.

  This stirred up my own anger. She knew this was where I came to hide from the world. She must have noticed I liked to look through this tower’s lost and forgotten treasures. Why hadn’t she stopped me if she didn’t want me to discover what she’d hidden amongst the others?

  “If you didn’t want me to find your mirror, why did you leave it here?” I rose from the floor where I’d been clinging to the mirror.

  She pulled it away from me as if I might steal it.

  This made me even angrier.

  “I found it, the same way I found the portrait.” I looked straight into her eyes. “I had no idea it was yours. It had been wrapped up, cast away, and forgotten like everything else here.”

  For a moment, we stood there, glaring at each other.

  I realized I was now almost as tall as she was.

  All the fury seemed to drain from Oriana.

  Perhaps she, too, had noticed how much I’d grown.

  “I see,” she said, clutching the frame of the mirror. Her weathered fingers trembled against one of the silver roses.

  She looked old. Old, tired, and sorrowful beyond words. Her shoulders slumped as she stared at her hand on the mirror’s frame.

  My own anger vanished. I wasn’t supposed to see this. Her moment of weakness should have been private. I’d stumbled onto it just as I’d stumbled onto the mirror. Now, I was a part of whatever was going on, no matter how private it had been.

  “The fairest of them all,” she whispered. “That’s who you see, when you look into the magic mirror, when you’re young, foolish, and full of your own beauty.” She tried to smile, but there were tears in her eyes. “At least, that’s what you see at first. Yourself at your best.”

  I thought of how I’d first looked into the mirror. I’d seen myself looking back.

  How quickly my reflection had turned into the figure from my dreams.

  “Until you see someone else.” The words slipped from my mouth before I could think better of them.

  “Until you see her,” Oriana whispered. Her stooped shoulders shook, as if something was trying to escape from her frail body. “Once you see her, you can’t see anyone else. She becomes the fairest of them all.” She turned toward me, one of her hands rising to cover her face. “This is all my fault.” The words came out in a choked groan as she swayed.

  “Your fault?” I asked. “How?” Oriana’s words left me bewildered. “Because this mirror is yours? Because you knew of my visits to this tower?”

  A suspicion was dawning on me.

  I stared at my caretaker, who’d come at my mother’s bidding to the castle. “Because you’re the reason I was cursed?”

  “Please!” Oriana cried, dropping her hand. She stared at me with wide helpless eyes. “Don’t ask me these things!”

  The pain in her cry stopped me as if she’d slapped my
face.

  I had to obey. I couldn’t keep interrogating her. Not when she was like this.

  Hesitation didn’t stop my questions from buzzing around in my head like bees in a hive, though.

  What was Oriana hiding? Was she truly a good witch?

  Who was this wicked witch who’d cursed me? Was she truly wicked?

  What was their story?

  How exactly did I fit into it?

  “You need to get away from this place,” Oriana said with a decisive nod. Strength and purpose returned to her with that gesture. “Away from this tower. No, away from this castle.” She stared at me. “You’d like to go someplace quiet, wouldn’t you? You’ve always looked for a quiet place away from everyone else.”

  “Yes,” I admitted, confused by Oriana’s change of mood. My questions flew away and scattered in the face of it.

  “I’ll talk to your mother about leaving,” she said with another assertive bob of her head. “She’ll let you go if I go with you. She’ll convince the king.” Oriana’s face hardened when she looked down at the mirror. “We’ll go somewhere far away, where she won’t be able to find you.”

  My heart sank at Oriana’s words. I knew she wasn’t talking about my mother.

  This tower had given me a connection with the one who’d cursed me. First, I’d found the portrait. I’d just found the mirror.

  Neither was a coincidence. Not with a witch involved.

  I stared at the woman before me, clutching her magic mirror. A mirror that easily connected with the one who’d cursed me.

  Was this woman truly a good witch?

  What a childish, unfair question. Was anyone truly good? This woman was trying to protect me from the curse.

  Protector or not, she was keeping secrets from me.

  I might uncover these secrets if I stayed in the castle. Especially if I kept exploring the tower.

  At the same time, this was a chance to get away from the crowds of people at court. This might be my only opportunity to escape from them. My desire to escape got the better of my curiosity. Besides, Oriana might lower her guard if I pretended to go along with her plan. Once she did, I could try questioning her again. Perhaps she’d soften and be more willing to answer away from the castle, the tower, and the mirror. This was why I didn’t protest when Oriana went to my mother with her plan.

  My mother convinced my father to agree to it. I was only fifteen. The curse wasn’t ready to strike me down, not yet. A trip to the countryside at my guardian witch’s side would be perfectly safe.

  Did we really know if I was safe in the castle? Any of the people around me could be in the pay of the one who cursed me. She could be watching me through other eyes.

  I had to marvel at the mixture of truth and falsehood the good witch presented to my parents. Yes, my mysterious witch was watching me. However, Oriana had not mentioned the portrait, the mirror, or the tower.

  My sanctuary was safe, at least safe from discovery by my parents or outsiders, if not from the wicked witch herself.

  Oriana’s secrets were safe as well from everyone except me.

  Chapter Three: The Forest of Tears

  WE SET OUT the next day in an ordinary cart used to bring vegetables up to the castle.

  I hid under some coarse blankets, itchy as the rough skirts tangled around my legs. Not my skirts. Oriana had persuaded one of the kitchen servants to give them to her before showing me the whole uncomfortable process of putting them on.

  I tried not to scratch while Oriana drove the cart, singing in a high, sweet voice.

  She seemed as comfortable in her coarse, hooded robe as she’d been in a fine gown.

  This made me wonder as the wagon made its shaky way down the hill, away from the castle’s seat. Oriana was no stranger to driving a farmer’s cart, but she was at ease in a court filled with royals and nobles as well.

  How she’d achieved such flexibility and poise in such different social situations remained a complete mystery to me.

  The image of my princess with the dark blue eyes swam within my mind, followed by Oriana’s lips shaping the words, “the fairest of them all.”

  How did they know each other? What was their story?

  These thoughts kept me occupied when I wasn’t missing my soft gowns. The plain homespun made me appreciate silk and velvet like never before. The cart creaked and rattled while it rolled its way to the fields below, making my skirt ride up, scratching my legs.

  “Oi, you’ve got a trim seat for an old girl!” A rough voice hailed Oriana with crude humor.

  “Don’t underestimate an old girl, you rogue,” Oriana retorted with the same pert temper I’d sometimes heard from the cook in the castle kitchen.

  Gone completely was the polished elegance she’d displayed around my parents and me.

  I listened and marveled at the change in her, the ease with which she became someone else.

  We passed through field after field of grass and vine. I caught a glimpse of them when I peeped out from behind the blanket to take a look at the stalks of grain or the grapevines.

  “Stay down!” Oriana hissed with enough urgency to send me diving into the oppressive heat of the blankets.

  I stayed there and sweated, trying not to fantasize about napping in my tower.

  This was an adventure, my very first excursion from the castle. If only I could see more.

  After what felt like an eternity of bumping, shaking, and rattling, the cart finally stopped.

  “You can come out now.” Oriana clomped down from the driver’s seat. “We’re at the edge of the Forest of Tears.”

  I uncovered my head to blink in the overly bright sunshine, sitting up to look in every direction.

  Behind me wound a road through green fields. In the distance, I could see the vineyards we’d passed as well as the hills behind them.

  Rising above was the castle. Its towers sparkled in the sunlight while its banners flew in the breeze.

  Never had it looked more beautiful.

  “Missing your home already?” Oriana removed her hood, allowing silvery golden hair to spill out and gleam in the sunlight.

  “It’s the first time I’ve seen it from far away.” My voice came out hushed, thick with unshed tears.

  Feeling childish and silly, I turned my back on the way we’d come to face the path ahead.

  The tallest trees I’d ever encountered formed a wall as far as the eye could see. The only opening was the road we traveled. The same path cut through the forest, narrowing considerably between dense greenery. “Why is this place called the Forest of Tears?”

  “Because many have shed a tear in it.” Oriana walked over to the horses to unfasten their reins.

  I followed her, studying her long fingers. Each sported a callus, yet moved with a lady’s elegance.

  “Once upon a time, a princess fell under a curse in this forest. It was similar to the curse that threatens you.” She loosened the reins in her hands. “The princess’s friends in the forest watched over her in a crystal coffin. They never stopped crying for her.”

  Oriana carried the reins back to the cart, pausing only to cock her head toward me with an odd smile. “This forest is the last place anyone would think to look for you…or for me.”

  I swallowed. The darkness of the overshadowing trees seemed ready to swallow the path ahead. It was too narrow a road for our cart. “We’re going into the forest on foot, then?”

  “You wanted quiet, didn’t you?” She slapped the hindquarter of each horse.

  Obediently, they started trotting back along the path they’d come.

  “You can’t get quieter than the cottage in the heart of this forest.” Oriana watched the animals moving away with increasingly speed.

  “What about the cart?” I glanced back at our ride. “Won’t we need it?”

  “No.” Oriana turned toward the trees, a sad smile dimpling her face. “The Forest of Tears will provide for us, or we’ll have to return to the castle.” She glanc
ed at the cart almost longingly, perhaps wishing she had an excuse to go back.

  Now that we were actually here, she seemed to be having second thoughts about this plan of hers. “We’ll leave the cart. Someone will come for it.” She took a deep breath, which shuddered in her throat.

  Oriana reached out a hand to me, exhaling as she did. “Shall we go?”

  I accepted her hand right before the two of us stepped onto the forest path.

  I could see other reasons for the name under the dark shade of the trees. Cobwebs hung from branches overhead. Droplets of dew clung to the strands, glistening upon the cocoons trapped within them. They looked like fat tears. Flowers drooped from the trees, each one a bright crimson color. Every flower was the shape of a teardrop.

  “Don’t let the forest frighten you.” Sweat clung to Oriana’s hand as well as to her forehead.

  Each bead reminded me of a tiny tear.

  “It conjures up fearful illusions to terrify those who wander among the trees, but those illusions can’t hurt you.” She walked with a sure step, but I could feel the shudder running through her. “Not if you don’t believe in them.”

  “I don’t see anything too frightening,” I said with some hesitation.

  Sunbeams fell in shafts through the leaves overhead, illuminating the flowers along the path. I’d thought their petals were black. The light revealed they were dark blue. Just like the mysterious princess’s eyes.

  “The forest is actually quite beautiful,” I murmured, to myself as much as my companion.

  “Do you really think so?” Oriana glanced over her shoulder at me. She didn’t bother looking at the flowers, the cobwebs, or the trees. “I thought this place was terrifying when I saw it for the first time.” She picked up her pace as if she was trying to get ahead of her own memories. “As did she.”

  “She?” It was hard keeping the excitement out of my voice.

  There was only one “she” Oriana could be talking about.

  “She was here? In this forest?” I took a second look at the flower, shivering a little in the breeze.