Fairest

by Gail Carson Levine

  “No!” I shouted. “Don’t!” I tried to think of something to show her in the mirror. Then I thought what to attempt. I sang:

  “I won’t remain

  with Skulni,

  a monster, a spider

  in a mirror....”

  Still singing, I leaped up, overturning the chair. My connection to it snapped. Still singing, I made a fist and punched the mirror with all my strength.

  It sounded as if all the keys of a piano had been banged at once. A jagged crack formed, but the mirror held.

  Ivi stirred the poison with a spoon. “Oaf, I’m coming. Ogress, I’m coming.”

  I sang, full voice, “Ijori! My love … Ayortha …” and struck the mirror again.

  Another crack formed, but the mirror still held.

  Ivi raised the tumbler.

  I was a chorus, a choir. I threw myself—shoulders, elbows, knees, all my singing weight—into the mirror. I sang, “I won’t remain in a mirror, a beauty in a—”

  A roar drowned me out.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  THE MIRROR CRUMBLED in a bedlam of jangling notes. Skulni shrieked as the walls crumbled, too. For a moment he and I stood on Ivi’s dressing table, each of us smaller than a thimble. My feet were in a puddle, and I glimpsed shards of the vials that had contained the potions. I saw Ivi drop the tumbler.

  I was lifted up and drawn backward toward the door. As I went, I heard Ivi’s cry of dismay and watched Skulni dwindle and fade from sight. Then I was torn away, through corridors and out of the castle. Again I whirred along the Ormallo range. Again I was pulled through solid rock.

  Below was the market cavern. I saw my body, covered by a jeweled blanket, surrounded by pillows. zhamM knelt at my side, holding my hand.

  I swooped down. Oh! My face was no longer beautiful. I slipped into myself.

  The world disappeared. I couldn’t move so much as a finger. I was a tiny flame, tinier than a candle’s flame, buried deep in a glacier. I felt zhamM’s hand and the weight of the blanket, but they were a mile away.

  A wisp of air entered the glacier. My ribs rose the slightest bit. My heart beat weakly. Against the weight of a glacier it could do no more.

  My heart beat again. And again. And stopped. My flame guttered. My heart beat. And stopped. And beat. I felt my consciousness fade. As my flame winked out, I heard a dog bark.

  Someone raised me and struck my back. My mouth fell open. The apple flew out. I flared back to life. I breathed deeply, then fainted.

  I awoke in my cavern bedchamber.

  zhamM sat in a chair next to my bed. “Maid azacH?”

  I smiled at him. I loved his kind, leathery face. I tried to thank him for saving me, but my mouth was too dry. I licked my lips.

  “I have broth.” He raised my back and piled pillows behind me. I was too weak to help. When I was propped up, he went to a brazier. He poured the broth and brought it to me in a steaming mug.

  I held out my hands for the mug, but then I couldn’t hold it. zhamM hadn’t let go, so nothing spilled.

  My hands, on the mug, were wide with broad fingers. My old hands. Memories flooded in. Skulni. Ivi.

  I tried again to speak.

  “Wait. Let the broth cool. Drink and then tell me.” He sat next to me on the bed, holding the mug.

  I waited impatiently. Someone should go to Ontio Castle immediately, to protect Uju.

  zhamM held the broth to my lips. I sipped. Root-vegetable broth. It tasted good anyway.

  After a few swallows I found my voice. “widyeH zhamM, how long since I spat out the apple?”

  “Only yesterday.”

  “How long since … since my appearance changed back?”

  “Yesterday as well.”

  Then not so much time had gone by. That was a relief. I wondered if I’d really destroyed the mirror. If I had, what had happened to Skulni? Might he have been freed? Might he be in the castle now, as a man, working his wiles for his own ends?

  “widyeH zhamM, Ivi gave me the poisoned apple.” I tried to get out of bed, but I could hardly move the covers. “Guard Uju is in danger.” Skulni hadn’t had time to talk to Ivi about killing him, but he might have said enough to get Uju imprisoned or sent on a perilous mission.

  “You need to rest,” zhamM said. “widyeH bynoK, the physician, believes you’ll be fine after food and a day’s rest. Of course, to be exact, he’s never treated a human before.” He smiled. “But you’re part gnome.”

  I smiled back. He was such a friend, to be exact. “Thank you. You saved me again.”

  “Not I. I only hovered and worried.” His expression changed. “Your queen was here?”

  “Disguised as a gnome.”

  “Maid azacH, a human couldn’t disguise herself as a gnome. Not among gnomes.”

  “She drank a potion that changed her.”

  “Like your beauty potion?”

  I nodded.

  He said, “The prince should be told.”

  I’d never heard about any gnomish prince, only their queen. “What prince?”

  zhamM hesitated. “Prince Ijori. We were going to wait un—”

  My heart stopped again and then beat wildly. “Ijori!”

  “Guard Uju told him where to find you. It was the prince who struck your back and forced out the apple.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He isn’t part gnome. He can’t live down here. He’s camped outside our main gateway.”

  “Ogres!”

  “Exactly outside, to be exact. If he sniffs even a whiff of a whiff of an ogre, he’ll nip inside and shut the door.” He stood. “I’ll summon him.”

  “widyeH zhamM? Is my hair htun again?”

  “Yes. It’s beautiful.”

  “Would you bring back a mirror after you send for Ijori?”

  He returned in a few minutes. I took the mirror, and my hand was strong enough to hold it.

  I was myself once more. I had the face and shape I would keep always. I would have to learn to accept it. I wouldn’t try again to transform myself.

  Still looking in the mirror, I held my other hand out to zhamM. He took it. My hair was htun. Oh! It was beautiful.

  Ijori and Oochoo came soon. Ijori rushed toward me but then stopped. Oochoo leaped on the bed and covered my face with kisses. Her tail wagged so wildly, the bed shook.

  “Are you all right? Oochoo! Hop off!”

  She continued to stand over me, panting and wagging.

  I reached up and scratched her neck. “I’m fine.”

  Ijori sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand as cautiously as if it was made of glass.

  zhamM, standing at the foot of the bed, said, “She’s out of danger, Prince Ijori, although she’s still weak.” He added, “Are you hungry, Maid azacH?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll fetch food. After we eat, we can talk.” Most considerate of gnomes, he left the cavern.

  Ijori embraced me gently. Into my hair he murmured, “You look yourself again. I’m glad.” He kissed my forehead, my nose, and my lips. “I thought you had died.” He stroked my cheek. “While I was searching for you, word came from the castle that you’d died.”

  “We sent someone to tell you the truth.”

  “I blamed myself. If I had believed you, if I had argued for you, they might not have imprisoned you, and you wouldn’t have run away.”

  He smelled of the sun.

  “I went to Uju to hear about your death. He saw my grief and told me the truth. Then, when Oochoo and I arrived, I again thought you dead.”

  I kissed him. Oochoo barked and wagged. Ijori held me and hummed the melody I’d sung when we first kissed. My cheek learned the contour of his shoulder. Twice I opened my mouth to tell him about Ivi and Uju. Twice I closed it. These moments were too sweet to break into. Oochoo curled up next to us. I wanted to stay as we were forever.

  zhamM returned with food. We broke away. Ijori fetched a chair and placed it by my bedside, next to zhamM’s
chair.

  I said, “Ijori, the queen—”

  “First you must eat.” zhamM put a tray across my lap. “Prince Ijori, I brought a plate of parsnips and potatoes for you, too, and for me, Maid azacH’s favorite, tree roots.”

  I laughed and grimaced, then tucked into my vegetables. After a bite or two, I thought to say, “Thank you for saving me, Ijori.”

  “It was Oochoo,” he said. “widyeH zhamM and I thought you dead, but Oochoo barked.”

  I didn’t understand.

  He explained. “She’s been in skirmishes with ogres. She whimpers over the dead, but she barks over the wounded.”

  I stroked her ears. She put her head on my thigh and looked longingly at my plate. Ijori reached into the pocket of his tunic and slipped her a treat.

  At the end of the meal, zhamM said, “Prince Ijori, Maid azacH said dire doings may be taking place at your castle. How do you know this, Maid azacH?”

  I explained how Ivi had been disguised as a gnome.

  Then I told them about being transported into the mirror, about Skulni, about Ivi’s return and the mirror’s destruction. At the end I said, “I fear for Uju.”

  Ijori said, “I’ll return to Ontio in the morning. widyeH zhamM, Aza will be safe here now, won’t she?”

  zhamM said, “Quite—”

  I sang, “I’m coming too. I may be needed.” I knew Ivi better than anyone.

  zhamM sang in a rumbling bass, “Maid azacH, don’t go.”

  Ijori sang, “It’s too dangerous. They’ll imprison you again, and the queen wants to kill you.”

  I sang, “If you don’t let me come, I’ll run away and follow on foot.”

  They argued with me, presenting many reasonable reasons.

  “The king is better,” I said. “Soon he’ll be able to judge me. I’ll be content to put myself in his hands. If the king’s council wants me to go back to prison until then, I’ll go, and I won’t escape.”

  They gave up, and Ijori left us. He had begun to shift in his chair, because the caverns were troubling him.

  In the morning the gnomish physician declared me strong enough to travel. I still felt weak, but I kept that to myself.

  zhamM accompanied me to the cavern gateway, where Ijori and Oochoo were waiting with six gnomes and nine horses. I blinked in the sunlight. I hadn’t been outside—except as an apparition—in seven weeks. zhamM said he and the others would ride with us for the first day.

  “After that I think you’ll be safe from ogres.”

  We mounted the horses and set out. Oochoo stayed close. Ijori said she would, so long as she smelled ogres. The gnomes became noisy and merry, joking in Gnomic and guffawing. zhamM had never been so boisterous in my presence. Ijori and I exchanged worried glances. Any ogres within five miles would hear us.

  zhamM saw our faces. In a low voice while the others continued their banter, he said, “Maid azacH, Prince Ijori, this is how we behave when ogres are about. We want them to hear us. Adult gnomes are too leathery for them. They break their teeth on us. If they hear us, they stay away.”

  I whispered, “If they won’t eat you, why do you care if they find you?”

  “They’re still persuasive and still dangerous.” He cocked his head at his companions and smiled. “I assure you, we do not enjoy having so much fun.”

  It’s not easy to tell that humor in a foreign tongue is forced, but now I noticed the gnomes were frowning as they laughed. Two were concentrating so hard, they were squinting.

  It was a hot summer day. The sun was pitiless. Nonetheless, it was splendid to be outside. I’d thought I’d never again see anything as big as the sky, or travel through a landscape, or take in deep swallows of the world’s air.

  We saw no sign of ogres. By afternoon I was weary, but I forced myself to sit straight and endure. I recalled songs and tried not to think, although some thoughts came. If all went as well as we could hope—Uju unharmed, the king’s council persuaded that I’d committed no crime—Ivi would still be queen. I didn’t know if I’d be safe at the castle, or anywhere in Ayortha.

  When we forded a stream at dusk, zhamM declared that we had crossed to greater safety. We camped together, and the gnomes took their leave in the morning. I sang—softly—a farewell song to zhamM. I had stayed awake late composing it in my mind.

  “I can never stop thanking you.

  If I never stop,

  I never need to say

  farewell.

  A river rushes between us.

  You follow it north,

  I pursue it south.

  When I weep

  because I miss you,

  my tears will seep

  through your cavern.

  Your face is kind

  as a shawl in winter,

  or a diamond for a song.

  My family keeps an inn.

  You have a chamber in my heart.

  No rent is due.

  Farewell.

  Farewell.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  IT TOOK IJORI and me another day and a half to reach the castle. The danger of ogres must not have been significant, because Oochoo began to leave us for her own explorations. Still we were prudently quiet. But dozens of times our eyes met and we smiled.

  We spent the night in a ravine, perhaps the same one Uju and I had sojourned in, lying on hard sandy ground under an overhanging rock. We had whispered for a while, planning. First, we would warn Uju. Ijori would try to keep Ivi away from me. When the king was well enough, I would tell him my story and let him judge me.

  We fell silent. I stared at the quarter moon while Oochoo snuggled her head against my shoulder.

  “Ijori? The queen may not be so beautiful now.”

  “Mmm … what?” He must have been halfway to sleep.

  “She drank the potion earlier than I did, before her wedding.”

  “If she looks as she behaves, she’ll have the face of a viper.”

  “People don’t—” I stopped. I was almost shouting.

  Oochoo rose over us, her tail down and wagging.

  I whispered, “People don’t look as they behave.”

  Oochoo settled against Ijori.

  “Oh, love, I never …” He paused. “Sweet, I adore your face and your hands and the scent of your skin and the thicket of your hair. When I saw you on the receiving line, I thought you had grandeur.”

  “I was frozen with fright and blushing scarlet!”

  “Nonetheless, that’s what I thought. You have grandeur and dignity. I was sorry when you became beautiful in a commonplace way.”

  Oh. Oh, my.

  I had grandeur. I breathed in the cool night air. Perhaps I could learn to wear myself without apologies, with dignity. Perhaps I could become what Ijori already saw. Perhaps someday I might even be able to smile at myself in a mirror.

  Not yet. But maybe someday.

  I reached out and touched his cheek. He caught my hand and held it. Oochoo rolled over on her back, legs in the air.

  “Ijori?”

  He was asleep. I didn’t wake him. We spent the night clasping hands.

  We crossed the castle drawbridge early the next afternoon. A groom took our horses.

  Ijori asked, “How fares the king?”

  The groom answered distractedly, staring at me, “He is no better. The physician says he is losing ground.”

  Ijori fell back a step. I took his hand, not caring if the groom saw.

  “The physician believes he is pining for the queen.”

  “Where is she?” I said.

  “She’s here. First she sneaked out of the castle and stayed away for several weeks. Now she’s shut herself in her chambers. She refuses to let anyone in, and she won’t come out. She won’t visit her husband.”

  The potion had lost its effect on her, too, and she didn’t want people to see her. I wondered if she knew the king was worsening.

  The groom began to walk our horses away, but Ijori stopped him. “Do you know anything
of a guard named Uju?”

  The man mumbled something.

  “Speak up!” Ijori said.

  “Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but Uju said she”—he cocked his head at me—“was dead. He must have been mistaken.”

  Ah, good. If Uju had been in prison, the groom would have told us that first. We turned toward the castle courtyard. I heard a troubadour and birdsong, just as I had on my first arrival.

  I swallowed. “I’ll go to the queen.” I was the only one who might convince her to visit the king. I didn’t want an encounter with her. The thought of it made me feel the poison in my throat again. But if King Oscaro’s recovery hung in the balance, I had to do what I could.

  When we stepped into the Great Hall, silence spread from us in a widening ripple. I think even the songbirds quieted. We ignored everyone and hurried to Ivi’s room. I knocked on her door.

  “Go away. Leave me.”

  I turned the knob. The door was locked.

  “It’s Aza,” I called. I knew what I had to say to have a chance at admittance, but I hated saying it. “I’m no longer beautiful, Your Majesty.”

  A moment passed, and then the lock turned.

  “Only you.”

  Ijori whispered, “Shout if you need me. I’ll break down the door.”

  She allowed barely enough space for me to squeeze in. As soon as I entered, she locked the door behind me.

  The curtains were drawn. The room was in shadow. I only glimpsed Ivi’s face, not enough to tell anything.

  I looked at her vanity table. No hand mirror. No golden flute.

  She flung herself on her bed, facedown. Her voice was muffled. “I thought you were somewhere with Skulni. Where is he?”

  “The mirror’s magic ended. He’s gone.” I hoped this was true. I hoped I hadn’t freed him.

  “I miss him.” Her voice rose. She pounded the mattress with her fist. “I want him.”

  I conjured him up in my mind. He knew how to manage her. I heard his spider voice, and it spoke the words I needed.

  “Skulni adored you,” I said. “Before you came back from Gnome Caverns, he told me how much he cared for you.”

  She rolled over. “He did?”

  I saw her face. She no longer resembled a tragic heroine when she cried. She looked as the rest of us do—her skin was blotchy and her nose was red.