The Magic Mirror and the Seventh Dwarf

by Tia Nevitt

  “You and your father both loved the same woman?”

  “I did, certainly. But my father? There was only ever one woman for him, but my mother was sickly in those days, and my father was...vulnerable. But he turned out to be stronger than I was. Me, she seduced with little effort.

  “She would visit me in the dead of night. I would awaken to find her in my bed, and the next day, she would always be gone, so I was never certain it was anything more than sinful dreams until that last time. We...were together when my father...interrupted us by using the mirror.”

  That night remained clear in his mind...Sybelle lying beneath him, them writhing together, and then her face supplanted by his father’s angry visage.

  “Richard! With whom do you lie?”

  “I—” As ever, Richard could not prevent the response. “With Lady Sybelle.”

  His father came closer, filling the mirror with his visage, which was terrible with anger. “And how long have you been Lady Sybelle’s lover?”

  Another face appeared before him—Sybelle’s own, as she leaned in front of him, watching him in fascination. His father’s gaze shifted, as if he could see here there beside him.

  “Since...two weeks after she arrived here.”

  “Come to my chamber immediately.”

  Richard shook his head as he continued his story. “Our argument was long and bitter,” he said. “But we soon reconciled, because we had bigger things to worry about. Lady Sybelle. She had followed me, and it was only then that we discovered that she is an enchantress. She heard everything, and while we both stood there, unable to move under the influence of some hex she had cast on us, she took the magic mirror, and I was her slave.”

  “So how did you come to be here?”

  Richard sighed. “I’ve been away from home for at least five years now. It was terribly damaging to my father for me to be revealing his secrets every night. She eventually used what she learned from me to travel here and marry the king. But we didn’t know that at the time. We only knew what we could learn through the questions she asked us. Eventually my father told me that I must leave, find her and destroy the mirror.”

  Johann was silent for a moment. “I’ve heard the mirror speak. You told her she was the fairest of all.”

  “She often asks that. I’ve often wondered if there’s some other reason for her to always ask that question, other than sheer vanity.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  “I don’t know. How can I be? I despise what she does. But she’s an enchantress. Is it love, or is it a spell? For years, I have been unable to get her out of my thoughts.”

  By this time, they were relying on the vision of the horses, because it was too dark for them to see. They pressed on, riding with hands outstretched to ward off overhanging branches.

  Then Richard heard hoofbeats behind them.

  “Quick—off the road!” He dismounted and led the way into the undergrowth.

  A light appeared behind them. A guard pointed at him—the one who had been in the throne room when Sybelle had caught him before the mirror. “That’s him! He’s getting away!”

  They plunged into the undergrowth and the darkness. But it seemed as if the very woods betrayed him when he followed the minstrel headlong into a briar patch.

  * * *

  The next day, Ange accompanied Gretchen to the crossroads market. They chatted together about Gretchen’s stroll the previous evening with Lars.

  “He was very sweet and gentle. Almost as if he was trying to make up for what Rudolph did.” Gretchen shuddered. “He didn’t even kiss me—except on the cheek, when we parted in the kitchen.”

  “Did you want him to?”

  “Well,” Gretchen said with a smile. “Yes.”

  “So he’s your choice, then? In your husband hunt?” Ange asked.

  Gretchen smiled. “That makes me sound so mercenary.”

  “But it’s true?”

  She hesitated. She had a thousand questions. Did this mean she could expect a proposal? How would she go about encouraging one? And how would she feel about a proposal if it did come? She had to admit one thing to herself—he was in her thoughts quite a bit. Did that mean it was love?

  And she realized that she was assuming a great many things. “What if he doesn’t ask?”

  Ange looked ahead and smiled. “Oh, he’ll ask. He’s as smitten as any I’ve ever seen.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  She looked over at Gretchen. “It must have been love at first sight.”

  She didn’t know how she felt about that. On the one hand, she was filled with wonder at the notion. On the other, she was terrified. Why would love be terrifying? She’d come here looking for love, had she not?

  She looked sideways at Ange for a moment but didn’t respond.

  The market consisted of several wagons stopped in the road, with their owners selling produce out of the back. There were also several ladies selling various items from baskets they had carried in, and one old farmer whose mule was packed with vegetables. An old woman selling apples that looked surprisingly fresh for this time of year caught Ange’s eye, while Gretchen went from wagon to wagon, trading eggs for various items.

  When all the eggs were gone, Gretchen joined Ange. The old woman was polishing up one of the apples while Ange watched. Gretchen wondered how she made it so shiny. She looked at the other apples, but they appeared ordinary.

  “And thirteen makes a baker’s dozen,” the old woman said as she handed it to her with a flourish.

  Ange laughed. “But you aren’t a baker, Frau.”

  “Maybe not,” the old woman said with a cackle. “But now you know you’ve gotten a good deal.”

  “Thank you, Frau.”

  “Enjoy your apples, dear!”

  They walked back, musing. Ange had the basket of apples on her arm, but she still held the polished apple.

  “I haven’t seen her at the market before,” Gretchen said.

  “Maybe she’s giving good deals while she gets established.”

  “It seems likely.” She eyed the basket. “They will be a nice treat this time of year.”

  “I thought so too.”

  They fell into a companionable silence as they walked. Ange began to munch on her apple. However, after a few minutes, she tossed it into the woods.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “It gave me a stomachache.”

  Moments later, she stumbled. When Gretchen turned to look at her, she swayed. “I’m feeling so dizzy!” she said.

  “Here—lean on my shoulder.”

  She did so and they continued on. However, Ange leaned heavier and heavier upon her until Gretchen staggered under her weight. After a quarter hour, Ange collapsed.

  Gretchen dropped her basket and knelt at her side.

  “Ange!” She patted her cheek. Ange only groaned and turned her head.

  “I’ll go get help!” she said. And she got up and ran for the farmhouse.

  * * *

  Sybelle was unable to resist taunting him.

  “Of course I had you followed,” she said. “You’re entirely too trusting, especially in that magic mirror of yours.” She paused to study him. “There are other ways to find out information, you know. Once you divulged to me the name of the owner of the farm, you thought yourself safe until dawn.”

  “What are you planning?” he said. “Why are you holding me?”

  �
��I’ll soon let you go...in good time.” She regarded Richard. “You know, when I came to bespell your father, I expected you to be a skinny scarecrow of a boy. I didn’t expect—” she put her hands on his shoulders, “shoulders so broad.” Her hands slid down. “Or such an expanse of chest.” Her hand clapped up between his legs, making him grunt. “Or such...fine equipment.” Then her finger traced his face. “Neither did I expect eyes the very color of the walls of your father’s castle, nor a face sculpted like the statues in your father’s garden.”

  “So perhaps you think I’m the fairest of all?”

  She looked taken aback. Then she smiled. “Perhaps.”

  “I don’t believe that. You are not truly attracted to me. I never understood why my opinion of your beauty was so important to you, anyway.”

  She eyed him for a moment. “You truly don’t know, do you? You never guessed?”

  “Would I ask if I did?”

  “Surely you don’t think my daily question to you is a simple matter of vanity?” She smiled. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m beautiful.”

  “So why ask?”

  She smiled again. “It’s better that you remain in ignorance.”

  He frowned. “Enough with the riddles,” he said. “Release me at once, and my minstrel traveling companion as well.”

  “Oh, like I said, you will be released. All in good time. All in good time.”

  That morning, right on schedule, she used the magic mirror. She only asked one question—who was the fairest of all. And as always, Richard’s tongue damned him again. She did not release him again until after she consulted the mirror once again, that evening, with the same question.

  “Madam,” Richard said, “again, why torment me with this question? You know I think Angelika is the fairest.”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.” She turned to the side and said to someone, “Let him and his minstrel go.”

  The vision of her face faded away. He turned to Johann. “She has some mischief planned.”

  “It sounds like mischief is her pastime.”

  “Gather your things. It sounds like she’s going to let us go.”

  They had not been waiting long when the guard appeared and opened up the cell. “You’re free to leave,” he said.

  Richard strode out the door. Johann followed after.

  “We must hurry,” Richard said as he ascended the stairs out of the prison, “if you still intend to travel with me...”

  “Of course, Mein Herr. I must hear how this turns out.”

  “Well, let’s hope this story has a happy ending yet.”

  They walked through the great hall, and out of the castle. They had just cleared the inner bailey when the sound of running footsteps brought Richard around with his sword drawn.

  A boy almost tripped over himself in his efforts to stop.

  “Please, my lord—I was told to run after you and give you this.” He held up a packet.

  Richard frowned as he reached out to take it. “Who is this from?”

  “The queen’s physic.” The boy’s hand darted out as he slapped the packet in Richard’s hand. He immediately ran off. Richard opened the packet and read the words on the outer envelope in the dimming evening light.

  “What is it?” Johann asked.

  “It’s...the physic claims it’s an antidote to...to poison that the queen gave to Angelika.” He folded the letter back around the inner packet. “Come. We must be off.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dieter and Marta summoned a doctor, but he didn’t get to the farmhouse until that evening.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said. “Her flesh is still warm, but her breath is so shallow that I might have thought her dead if I had not thought to put a goose-down feather under her nose.”

  “So she lives?” Marta asked.

  “She lives. But it’s like a sleeping death.”

  “But—but what do we do?”

  “She’ll either awaken on her own...or she won’t.”

  And with that, the doctor gave instructions for her care, and he left.

  “What should we do now?” Dieter asked. “Shall we send for her stepmother?”

  “Her?” Marta said with a snort. “You haven’t heard the stories Ange has told me about her. She’ll be glad Ange’s fallen ill.”

  “I’ll care for her,” Gretchen said.

  All eyes turned to look at Gretchen.

  “I—I feel like I’m to blame. I wondered how that old woman made that apple so shiny, but—” She gulped and looked down at Ange’s sleeping form. “And besides, she’s my friend.”

  “What old woman?” Marta asked with a frown.

  Gretchen described the old woman who had sold the apples at the market.

  “Wait,” Klaus said. “I’ve had one of those apples.”

  Gretchen looked at him. “She only polished the one that she gave Ange. A baker’s dozen, she said.”

  “I’ve never seen such a woman before,” Marta said. “Why should she want to harm Ange?”

  No one had an answer for that.

  It was a dispirited company that retired that night. Gretchen had Erick place Ange in the cot, and Gretchen saw to it that she was warmly tucked in. As Gretchen drew a chair up beside the cot, a thumping came at the kitchen door. By the time she had trotted downstairs and out into the kitchen, Dieter had already let the late-night visitors inside.

  It was the Spielmann, Johann. With him was the most handsome man Gretchen had ever seen, whom Johann introduced as Prince Richard. “The queen had Angelika poisoned,” the prince said. He held up a small vial. “I have the antidote.”

  Gretchen looked over at Marta. She stared at the stranger for a moment and then said, “Right this way.”

  Gretchen followed them up into the sewing room and she stood by the cot as Richard administered the antidote. Gently he held her head as he dribbled the mixture between her lips.

  “It will take some time to work,” he said. “And I’m to repeat the dosage in regular intervals until she wakens.”

  “Let’s leave her, then,” Marta said, “and let the remedy do its work.”

  Gretchen followed them back to the kitchen. For the first time, Richard seemed to take a look around the Einhaus and the people within. Gretchen saw his eyes pause on each of the farmhands, one by one, until they returned to Lars.

  “Stump, is that you?”

  Lars bowed. “Eure Hoheit,” he said.

  Gretchen felt a flash of annoyance. She said, “His name is Lars.”

  “Lars? I’m sorry to say I never knew that. Well, it’s good to see you again, Herr Lars. It’s like...” His voice trailed off.

  “Let me get everyone something warm to drink,” Marta said. “Gretchen, if you’ll help?”

  “Of course,” Gretchen said. She went to work beside Marta, warming blueberry wine and spicing it with cinnamon sticks and nutmeg. As they worked, she listened as the men talked at the table.

  Lars said, “We wondered long what became of Good Prince Richard.”

  Richard smiled. “I have not heard that name in so long that I’d forgotten it.”

  “You rescued me from a bullying once.”

  “I remember. The stablehands had tied you under a horse.”

  “I think they had worse in store for me.” The serious tone in Lars’s voice drew Gretchen’s glance. His face was uncommonly grave.

  They reminisced ab
out people in the castle until Gretchen and Marta joined them at the table with mulled wine. And there, until late in the night, Richard told them of the spell of the magic mirror and his attempt to break the mirror.

  “The only way to break the curse is how my father broke it. By getting someone else to take it.” He laughed—a harsh sound. “Or, I could die, but the curse would remain in my family anyway. Otherwise, the queen herself would have to break it, as the current master of the mirror.”

  “Was there no one who was loyal to you who could have taken it?” Lars asked.

  “What good would that do, even if there was?” Richard said. “At least I’ve learned some way to disguise the truth. If a new person took on the curse, they would have access to all that forbidden knowledge, and none of my experience with it. At least if I’m the slave, I can make it difficult for her.”

  At length, when the hour reached midnight, he offered to sit with Ange through the rest of the night. Before Gretchen joined him in the sewing room, Lars asked her for a word. They went out the side door of the farmhouse, into the night.

  “I can help,” Lars said to her.

  “Help with Angelika? You know nothing of antidotes or medicines.”

  “No, I’m talking about helping Prince Richard.”

  “But how?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “What kind of idea?”

  “Prince Richard got the mirror to reveal to him how the curse may be lifted, or how the mirror may be destroyed. But he couldn’t do it himself while bound to the mirror. He needs someone to do it for him.”

  “Oh no! Not you?”

  “Why not me? As Stump the Dwarf, I’ll have ready access to the queen, and she’ll never think me a threat if I’m there to entertain her.”

  “Entertain that dreadful queen?”

  “More than entertain,” he said with a grim frown. “I mean to trick her!”

  They were silent for a moment. Then Gretchen said, “I’ll go with you.”

  “What? No!”

  “Why not? Richard may be your prince, but Ange is my friend. Besides, if you are thought to be harmless, then I will be even more so.”