The Odd Sisters

by Serena Valentino

  “But it wasn’t quite the same spell, though, was it, Lucinda?” It was Hazel. She had been listening at the doorway, about to come in. Lucinda snapped her head around to look at Hazel.

  “Another human with a witch’s blood! Blasphe-mous!” spat Lucinda. “At least Gothel was created by magic! We were her true sisters! Sisters in magic! You and your sister Primrose were taken from the village as babies by Jacob, did you know that? Taken away from your real parents, nasty human parents, and given Manea’s blood! To replace us! I should kill you where you stand!”

  “You know that is impossible, Lucinda. We share the same blood. The blood of our mother!” Primrose stood up, clenching her fists around hexes, ready to defend her sister.

  “Stop this, girls! Stop it at once!” Jacob’s voice boomed, but the witches wouldn’t hear him. Everything had fallen into delirium again. All the witches were wailing and screaming at each other.

  “Did you know who you were when you came to us so many years ago? Is that why you took our sister Gothel from us and helped in destroying the dead woods?” asked Hazel, not hiding her contempt for Lucinda and her sisters.

  “We took her because she was our true sister. Not like you. She was created with magic in the old way, as it was done for generations by the queens of the dead woods! We wanted her for ourselves. We wanted our family back!” hissed Lucinda, clenching her fists, digging them into her own flesh with anger.

  “And then you abandoned her! You left her to go mad and wither to a husk while trying to bring us back, stringing her along for years, making her believe you would help her!”

  “We wanted to help her! We tried. But we had to find a way to bring Circe back! We had to save Maleficent.”

  “But if you had just used our mother’s spells, the spells used for generations by our ancestors, and not tampered with them, none of this would have happened. Instead you took our mother’s spell and made it your own! You twisted it and turned it into something destructive, like everything you touch, Lucinda. We loved you when you came to the dead woods, you know we did! You could have told us who you were and stayed to live here with us. We could have been happy together. We loved you so well, Lucinda. We were happy to have other witches in the dead woods. Someone to teach us magic. But you used Gothel, took our spells and twisted them, making them rebound on you and your dragon fairy-witch, and destroyed everything in the process!”

  “It wasn’t our fault! It was a miscalculation! We are three, Maleficent was just one, that’s why it rebounded on her!”

  “But don’t you see the same thing has been happening to you, just much more slowly? You gave Circe everything that was good within you, and because you are three, the degenerative effects simply took longer to destroy you! Don’t you see, Lucinda, you’re all going insane. My sister Gothel saw it. So did Maleficent and Ursula, they all said so in their missives. They saw it happening slowly over the years. And surely Circe sees it now. The only ones who don’t see it are you.”

  “Don’t speak to us of Ursula! She is a traitorous witch and deserved her foul death!”

  “That may be so, but she loved you well before she lost her mind, did she not? Don’t you see you have been sailing perilously close to the same depths of madness for many years? Please, Lucinda. Don’t do this. Don’t destroy everyone your daughter loves just to keep her close. With every person you hurt and life you destroy, you punish your daughter. You punish Circe.”

  The odd sisters crumbled into madness once again. “No! Not punishment! She’s our light. Like Aurora was Maleficent’s. To have her near is to have our light back. The farther away she is, the less we can see clearly. We need our light. Otherwise we are in darkness and we are alone.”

  “Mothers, I am here. No one is going to take me away from you,” said Circe, feeling she needed to say something to calm her mothers. But she couldn’t face a life by their side, not as they were now. And she was more certain than ever about what she had to do.

  “These witches would have you to themselves! And so would Nanny, and the fairies! Everyone wants to take you from us! Nanny thinks she can make up for her past deeds by protecting you! Protecting you from us! But we won’t have it! We made a promise, a promise in hate that we are bound to fulfill! We are trapped in the promise we made in the land of dreams. We will have you for ourselves, Circe! We will rip from you everyone you hold dear so that you have only us!” Lucinda was raving, her hair wild and her face distorted by her mania.

  The odd sisters stood together, raising their arms. Small balls of silver light appeared in their hands, crackling and emitting sparks throughout the room as they grew. The odd sisters squeezed the shining spheres, causing lightning to burst from their fists. It struck the walls and sent tremors throughout the entire mansion. The lightning struck the oldest parts of the mansion, bringing life to the stone carvings of night creatures that slumbered within. The creatures broke free, causing the mansion to crumble. The harpies that dominated the dining room came to life and crashed through the large picture windows, shattering the glass and falling to the courtyard below. Circe, Primrose, and Hazel screamed as Lucinda commanded the creatures of the dead woods.

  “Night creatures, do my bidding! This is your queen! Seek out my enemies in the Fairylands and the many kingdoms, and destroy them all in my name!”

  The mansion started to rumble and shake again; everyone in the room could hear the sounds of stone cracking and crashing to the ground. Jacob, Primrose, Hazel, and Circe all ran to the windows and saw giant stone dragons circling the dead woods. They saw the Gorgon statue come to life and walk through the courtyard toward a giant crimson spiral of light right at the boundary of the dead woods. Stone ravens and crows were circling above the Gorgon as more stone harpies crashed through windows, joining the other winged creatures that were making their way out of the dead woods.

  Circe closed her eyes and sighed. She knew what she had to do. She’d known it since she started her journey, and only now would she have the courage to do it.

  Oberon and his Tree Lords were assembled on the boundaries of the Fairylands. They were ready and waiting to fight Maleficent should she return. Oberon’s heart was filled with dread at the thought of facing her again, and at the same time filled with joy at seeing his fairies gathered together in the distance, on the lookout for Maleficent.

  He had lost many friends and soldiers in their last battle with Maleficent. His lost friends would return, of course, but not for many years, not until they’d had time enough to grow. Tulip had seen to the replanting of his fallen Tree Lords after the battle at Morningstar. She had put their roots back into the ground and tended to them with care. But now she had an even more important task given to her, one that filled Oberon’s heart with worry.

  He felt he should have seen this coming—a great war between the witches and fairies. But he hoped they would be spared. As he and his army stood guard, waiting for the battle to commence, he put out a silent call to all the gods of nature to help in the battle. He knew the oddsisters would not stop after destroying the Fairylands; they would want dominion overthe entirety of the many kingdoms now that they had taken their place as queens of the dead.He had tried to reason with Manea and her mother years ago, tried to convince them that sending Lucinda and her sisters into the world would be a mistake, but they hadn’t listened. It had been his experience that most did not listen when oracles of another faith spoke their truth. They listened only to their own kind. He often felt he should have refused to take the odd sisters in, giving the witches of the dead woods no choice other than to raise the children themselves, but he had feared for the children’s fates and decided to take the tiny witches in and arrange a proper home for them.

  Nanny had seemed like the right fairy to undertake such an untraditional role, but all fell into chaos, grief, and ruin as she suffered one loss after another, until she finally decided to lose herself in the place between. That was when Oberon took away Nanny’s memories. Took her identity, gi
ving her peace and a chance to redeem herself through Tulip and Circe.

  And now here they were, both faced with the possibility of having to destroy these witches because of the choices they had made along with their parents. As he looked at Nanny, standing with her sister and the other fairies ready for battle, he felt a deep sorrow for her that she might have to face her foster daughter in strife once again. He felt himself pulled in many directions, his mind drifting from his soldiers to his fairies and to Circe. He wanted to send part of his army to the dead woods, but there were so few soldiers left now after their last battle with Maleficent that he felt they were needed here. He could only hope the gods of nature would listen to his call and come to Circe’s aid in the dead woods—if it wasn’t too late already.

  Oberon watched the sky for Maleficent’s bird, Opal. She was keeping a lookout for any sign of Maleficent and the odd sisters’ other creatures. The Fairy Godmother, Flora, Merryweather, Fauna, Nanny, and the Blue Fairy, with a legion of other fairies, were in the distance, just beyond the horizon, keeping watch as well. He was so proud seeing all his fairies assembled on the hilltop, standing together side by side, their wands ready to do battle with Maleficent once again. He could see Nanny searching the sky for Opal with her keen eyes, hoping she would bring an early warning of Maleficent’s arrival. As brave as his fairies were, he knew they dreaded another confrontation with the Dark Fairy. Especially Nanny.

  He thanked the Fairylands for Opal. Before she came to him with the odd sisters’ plans, he had thought the poor creature had died along with Maleficent’s other birds during the great battle. It was a brave choice, coming to him as she had, making Grimhilde and Lucinda’s plan known to him after she escaped Grimhilde’s clutches. He knew what it meant for Opal to betray her old mistress, but Opal had watched Maleficent change over her many years; she no longer saw the young girl she used to love within Maleficent before she died. And now that her tormented mistress was finally released from her pain, Opal had turned her loyalties to a witch with a pure heart. Circe.

  Oberon sighed, remembering how desperate Opal was when she told him her tale. She had survived the battle, but hid among Maleficent’s dead ravens and crows to see if she could find her mistress. But what she found was the odd sisters plotting to raise her mistress from the dead, to use her as they had longed to do while she was alive, and she knew she had to stop them. The poor bird had gone through so much while making her way to him, and he hoped she would survive this battle to share her story with Circe herself. He hoped they would all survive. Either way their story would live on in the book of fairy tales, as all their stories had, if readers looked deep enough. Surely the book would contain the story of how the old queen Grimhilde had captured poor Opal. Or how Snow White was finally free of her mother. Or how the odd sisters had used old and sinister magic to bring Maleficent back from the dead. Or the story of a brave young woman named Tulip who made peace between the Cyclopean Giants and the Tree Lords. All their stories were there, written or waiting to be written. And he wondered what ending Circe would write for herself.

  And then he saw. His answer was there, silhouetted and falling from the clouds, careering toward the earth. The dark shadowy dragon beast was plummeting to its death. The odd sisters had brought her back only for her to die another painful death, and he knew without a doubt what a grave mistake he had made in letting the odd sisters live outside the dead woods’ boundaries. And he knew what Circe must have done to save them all.

  Circe had taken the small mirror from her pocket and broken it. No one noticed in the confusion and mayhem. Her mothers were ranting, and Jacob was trying in vain to calm his daughters, but their madness had overcome them, and they could no longer hear their father’s words. Hazel and Primrose had run down to the odd sisters’ house in the courtyard to see if Snow White had been injured by the falling stones when the harpies came to life, leaving Jacob and Circe alone with the odd sisters.

  Circe looked down at the broken mirror. She could see Snow’s face reflected in the broken pieces. She is safe. Primrose and Hazel will take care of her, she thought. At least Snow will be safe.

  Then she wiped the broken pieces of mirror so she didn’t have to see her cousin’s face in the long sharp piece she grasped in her hand.

  She was so afraid. But she didn’t have a choice. It was the only way to make her mothers whole again. It was the only way to bring back their sanity.

  She took the long, jagged piece of glass and plunged it into her heart. She felt herself choking on blood as she began to lose her vision. The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was her mothers’ horrified faces. She heard them screaming as her world went black.

  Snow White, Primrose, and Hazel returned to a nightmare. Primrose and Hazel stood, stunned, while Snow gathered Circe in her arms. She looked as if she was drowning in sorrow. Too grief-stricken to cry, she sat there wondering how this could have happened.

  Primrose reached out and touched Snow on the shoulder tenderly, trying to comfort her. Jacob closed his eyes, willing away his tears, not wanting to see Circe’s lifeless face. He tended to his daughters, who were lying on the floor, motionless but still breathing.

  “This isn’t how it was supposed to end!” said Snow, looking up at Primrose, her cheek covered in Circe’s blood. As Primrose’s heart broke for the woman, she thought this was probably the only way it could have ended, but she had hoped with all her heart it wouldn’t have to.

  Hazel joined Jacob and sat down next to the odd sisters. “There is nothing of the madness left within them. Circe has saved them from their madness by giving them back the best parts of themselves, I can feel it. I wonder why they won’t wake.”

  “I don’t think they wish to live in a world without their daughter.” Jacob stood up to look out the windows at the broken landscape. The ground was covered in rubble from the night creatures that had fallen to the ground the moment Circe took her own life. “She’s saved us all, you realize. The Fairylands, everyone in the many kingdoms, all with her sacrifice.”

  Snow White stood up quite suddenly. Her face was ghastly pale, but she was almost elated. “The flowers! We can take her to the flowers!” Jacob and the witches said nothing. They just looked at Snow sadly. “Come on! We have to take her to Gothel’s old house! The flowers are there. We can bring her back to life!” Snow didn’t understand why no one was saying anything. Why no one saw this was the solution.

  Primrose leaned down and put her arm around Snow. “We can’t, my darling. If we do, then Lucinda and her sisters will return to bedlam.” Snow White stood up, noticing the blood on her dress for the first time. She didn’t know which was Circe’s and which was her own, or what she found more revolting: being covered in the blood of her dearest friend or the idea that the odd sisters would live and Circe would not. She couldn’t let this be the end. She couldn’t lose Circe. Not now. She suddenly understood how the odd sisters had felt when they lost Circe years before. The sense of desperation to get her back was overwhelming. They had just found each other. They had just become friends.

  “Then we kill the odd sisters!” Snow said, surprising herself.

  “You are a witch’s daughter,” said Hazel. “But Circe has made her choice. She could have killed her mothers—she had the power to do so even if she didn’t know it herself—but she chose to sacrifice herself so they could live. She knew that taking her own life would restore their greatest virtues.”

  “But it’s not fair! I can’t lose her, I can’t!”

  Hazel smiled at Snow and said, “Everything you loved about Circe is now within her mothers. She was special because her mothers made her that way.”

  Snow White was angrier than she’d ever been. “It shouldn’t have to be like this! I refuse to accept it! There has to be another way!”

  Primrose took Snow by the hand. “You have to, my dear. Circe wanted this. She felt it was her fault that her mothers fell into delirium. This was Circe’s choice to make, and it was
foreseen by the ancestors. We have to honor that.”

  Snow White shook her head. “Curse the ancestors! I can’t believe you’re okay with this! I thought you wanted to help Circe! I thought she had finally found a home and a family in you and in this place! I know that is how you felt as well! I could see it when you looked at her! Tell me you are okay with her choice, tell me you didn’t wish for things to be different, and I will drop this.”

  Hazel sighed and joined them, putting her arm around Snow. “Of course we hoped things would go differently. We love Circe. We loved her long before we laid eyes on her, from the moment we first heard her voice in the place between. And yes, we wanted her to live here with us, to live out her life with us in the dead woods, and that was a path she could have taken. A path the ancestors hoped she would take. But that meant killing her mothers. And only Circe could make that choice. We couldn’t force that upon her.”

  Snow White couldn’t help feeling there was another way. “I know in my heart this isn’t how it’s supposed to end. I know it! Why can’t any of you see that?”

  The room became infused with light as a new voice echoed in the room. Calm and serene, it was the voice of the ancestors.

  Snow White is right. This is not how it has to end.

  “Gothel?” Primrose looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice.

  Gothel is with us, Primrose, and we speak as one, as the ancestors of the dead woods have always done.

  The light in the room intensified.

  Circe should not have to die for our mistakes. And neither should her mothers. The choice will be theirs to make together.

  Snow felt strange talking to an invisible being, to this otherworldly voice, but she found her courage and asked, “But how? How will they make the choice?”