Mirror, Mirror

by Jen Calonita

  But when her body returned to full strength, she could feel the difference coursing through her veins. The mirror was right: she was more powerful, smarter, and prettier than ever before.

  Her handmaidens would marvel when she emerged from her quarters with skin so dewy she looked half her age. “A restful night’s sleep does wonders for you, Lady Ingrid.”

  Ingrid would say nothing and keep walking, but she loved hearing their whispers.

  “She looks younger than even the queen!” she once heard one say. “How is that possible?”

  “Witchcraft!” someone else inevitably suggested.

  Let them talk. They were just jealous. How could they not be? She looked better than she had in years. The calluses from her years of labor in the fields and the magic shop were gone. Her skin was now milky white and glowing instead of weathered. Her hair looked like spun silk. And the strength she felt—not just physically, but mentally—was the best high she’d ever had. Maybe the mirror was right: the nightmarish process was worth it.

  At least that’s what she told herself as she started the whole process all over again. She hadn’t planned to give more of herself to the mirror so soon, but Katherine had become insufferable. All her free time now was spent with Snow White. The child didn’t need the care she had as a baby anymore, and yet Katherine still preferred her company to her sister’s.

  “Come with us,” Katherine always said when Ingrid would complain they never spent time together anymore. “Play with your niece.” But Ingrid didn’t have time to play. She wanted to make real changes to the kingdom and the infrastructure therein. She wanted Georg to be more commanding and stop letting other kingdoms walk all over them. But Katherine had different interests—she was a queen of the people, spending her time listening to their concerns and making sure farming conditions throughout the countryside were ideal. Being raised by the farmer had made her primarily concerned with the kingdom’s agricultural trade rather than the things that mattered to Ingrid, like mining. There was so much more money to be made if Katherine opened more tunnels, leading to more diamond trading. But no. Katherine deferred to Georg when it came to the diamonds. And he, too, worried more about mining conditions than mining rewards. He was an inefficient ruler.

  If Katherine couldn’t see reason when it came to the mines, then Ingrid would find another way to get Georg’s ear.

  Everything comes at a price. More lifeblood is needed. Stop playing nice, the mirror told her.

  So here she was again.

  Ingrid had learned if she said incantations to herself while the lifeblood ceremony took place, it seemed to go quicker. That was how she missed hearing the doors to her chambers open, and Katherine calling her name. It wasn’t until her closet doors swung open, letting in the bright light of day, that Ingrid realized she had company.

  “Ingrid?” Katherine looked like a scared child. Her shoulders were drawn inward and her perfect mouth hung awkwardly in surprise. “Wh—what are you doing?” Her voice suddenly had a stutter.

  Katherine looked from Ingrid to the mirror, noticing the pulsing light zipping from the glass through Ingrid’s body like a lightning bolt. Horrified, Katherine started to run away.

  “Wait!” Ingrid called.

  We must resume, the mirror told her. Let her go. Leaving now will mean your doom.

  “Wait!” Ingrid yelled louder, feeling like a prisoner in her own body. She could hear Katherine wailing in the other room. Any second now the guards would burst in and everyone would see her secret. They couldn’t know about the mirror or its powers. Someone would certainly try to steal it from her if they knew what it was capable of.

  Should she stay and complete the process or go to her sister? She had never heard Katherine this upset. She felt like she was being torn in two.

  Ingrid, hear what I say. Take heed. Stay stay stay stay . . .

  But she couldn’t listen. She had to go to Katherine. She pulled her hand away from the mirror and the light burned out. In her weakened state, she couldn’t get to the other room quickly, but when she did, she found Katherine hunched over, sobbing like she hadn’t done since they were children. “Katherine—” she started to say.

  Katherine whirled around, her face scrunched up with rage. “You’re a witch!”

  Ingrid stumbled backward, unsteady on her feet. “No.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Sleep. All she wanted was sleep.

  “Yes, you are!” Katherine was inconsolable. “Georg warned me. He said he’d heard rumors about what you did in your chambers, but I didn’t believe him. I said you’d left that world behind when you moved into the castle and became my lady-in-waiting. I said you’d never practice dark magic, not with your niece sleeping under the same roof!”

  “It’s not dark magic,” Ingrid said, but her voice wasn’t as forceful as it normally would be. She sounded weak and she hated it. “It’s something I dabble in during my own personal time, of which I have too much. You never need me for important matters.”

  “Liar!” Katherine lashed out, tears streaming down her face. Ingrid had never heard her this angry before. “You don’t dabble. It’s your craft. I’d heard you were performing rituals, doing dark deeds, practicing mind control, but I didn’t want to believe it to be true.”

  Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Mind control? Please.”

  “Georg was right.” Katherine started backing away. “Your heart is infected with black magic. What you were doing in there with that mirror—those incantations, the cold, strange lightning and black fog . . . it was unnatural. It felt evil.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” Ingrid told her. “What I do in my time is my business. It’s never affected you! You have the perfect life, the perfect family. What right do you have to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

  “Your choices could affect Snow! I don’t want her around that mirror,” Katherine said. “It has to go! It’s darkening your heart!”

  “That mirror is mine!” Ingrid lashed out, her mouth tasting like blood. She had bitten down on her tongue. Tiny blood droplets dripped down her chin. Katherine moved farther away. “You can’t touch it and it’s certainly not yours to take away!” Her voice felt stronger now, like venom. Her master had tried to take the mirror from her, too, and look where that had gotten him. He was now in the ground. “You’ve taken everything from me. You shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have love.”

  “Love?” Katherine questioned. “Ingrid, it’s a mirror. It can’t love you.”

  Ingrid’s chest rose and fell quickly. She didn’t have to explain herself. “You don’t rule me!”

  Katherine squared her shoulders, her face hardening. “Actually, I do. I am your queen, and if I say that mirror goes, it goes. Or you do.”

  “You’re threatening to throw me out?” Ingrid said incredulously. How dare her sister behave like this! Ingrid had raised her. She had cared for her like a mother would. She had given everything to her sister and gotten nothing in return. Katherine loved her new family more than she had ever loved Ingrid. That would never change. And now, she finally had a deep, meaningful connection—for the mirror needed her in a way Katherine never did—and her sister wanted to take that away?

  Katherine hesitated before speaking. “It’s for your own good.” She held on to the door. “I have to tell Georg about this. I’m sorry.” She shut the door firmly behind her, and Ingrid collapsed to the floor in a heap.

  This is what thou failed to see. It could have been avoided. I warned of what came to be.

  Ingrid closed her eyes, feeling the pain seep into the backs of her eyes and the migraine begin. Even with only half the ritual performed, she still felt weak. She couldn’t even answer.

  You know what you could lose. Time marches on. Whose future will you choose?

  Whose future? Ingrid thought, afraid to admit the truth out loud.

  A single tear fell down her cheek as she thought about what the mirror was suggesting. In order for the mirror to survive, Kathe
rine had to die. Ingrid had fought this for so long, but in the end, the mirror had been right. What had Katherine given her? A lowly title? She’d fought the mirror’s prophecy for so long, but she couldn’t anymore. If Katherine was going to threaten to expose her and the mirror, then something had to be done. It was always she who would rise to the occasion. She had gotten them out of their father’s cottage. She had found them shelter with the farmer and brought them to the kingdom. She had raised Katherine, and now Katherine was taking the one thing that mattered to Ingrid. Katherine had everything, while Ingrid had fought for every moment in her meager life. Why was it that Katherine was still living the life Ingrid was meant to live?

  Choose you. Delay it no longer. If you want to be queen, you know what you must do.

  “Yes,” Ingrid whispered, a plan already forming in the back of her mind. Katherine needed to go, and she knew exactly how she would make sure that happened. Maybe the plan had been there all along, because the minute she accepted her sister’s fate, the pain seemed to subside and the ingredients needed to take care of things sprang quickly to her mind. Where Ingrid had at first felt guilt and sadness, now she only felt anger. Katherine would finally get what she deserved.

  There could only be one queen in this castle, and her sister wasn’t the one meant to wear a crown.

  Ingrid smiled wickedly. Long would she reign.

  Snow froze. “You found my father?”

  “Yes.” Henri looked at her unwaveringly.

  It felt like the ground was quicksand and she was going to be swallowed whole. Lately she had grown certain her aunt had killed her father. It had seemed more and more unlikely that he could be out there somewhere. “My father? Are you sure?”

  Henri nodded. “I am certain. He told me about your mother and you, and the aviary your mother commissioned, and all the birds. He told me about the wishing well and the gardens.” His blue eyes lit up with excitement. “He knew the castle grounds and the kingdom’s terrain like the back of his hand. I truly believe it’s him!” The dwarfs gathered round him to listen. “King Georg is alive and he misses you terribly.”

  At the words “King Georg,” all seven dwarfs began to talk at once.

  “He’s alive?”

  “We should have known he wouldn’t leave us!”

  “Where is he? Is he coming home?”

  But Snow couldn’t be so exuberant. She felt too conflicted. “If he misses me, then why did he leave me with the Evil Queen?” The dwarfs grew quiet. “Why did he abandon his kingdom? How could he do that to his people?” Her voice was shaking.

  Henri took her hand and pulled her in close. They were practically standing nose to nose. She inhaled sharply. “He didn’t willingly leave you or his people. You must understand: he was given no other choice.”

  “What happened?” Snow asked.

  Henri cast his eyes downward, which was a relief because his gaze was almost too much for her to bear. “I shouldn’t have blurted this news out like that. There’s much I have to tell you, but not here.” He looked around the ominous woods with a sharp focus he hadn’t had when they’d found him.

  “We can’t go anywhere till we find the howling tree,” Sneezy said, interrupting, and Snow and Henri broke apart.

  “The howling tree?” Henri repeated uncertainly.

  “The men heard rumors about a tree in these woods with a sap that can be used to make an elixir that allows a person to shape-shift,” Snow explained. “Finding it might be the key to us getting to the Evil Queen without her knowing. It could be our chance at fighting her.”

  Henri’s eyes widened. “You’re going to fight the queen?”

  “With our help,” Doc declared, and they all nodded. “Which is why we need to find that tree.”

  “Do you mean this tree?” Henri asked. He led them a few feet away to a tree that truly looked like it had a face. Up close, Snow realized the ragged eyes and howling mouth were nothing more than hollowed-out parts of a tree with mangled branches that looked like claws.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured herself running past the tree, thinking it was actually coming for her. “Yes, this is the tree I saw.”

  Happy and Doc began to examine it, knocking on the tree stump and using their lanterns to peer into the hollowed parts. Grumpy used a carving knife to try to open up the bark and see what was behind it.

  “This tree is dead,” Grumpy declared. “There’s no sap in this thing.”

  Snow’s heart sank.

  “Are you sure this is it?” Sleepy asked.

  “I’m sure,” Snow said sadly. She’d been so certain they had a lead. “I guess the rumor was just a rumor. The queen doesn’t get her dark magic from this place.”

  There was a low grumble from somewhere deep among the trees. Henri grabbed Snow’s arm. “We should leave.”

  “Yes. Why don’t you join us back at the cottage?” Snow suggested as Grumpy sighed. “We have much to discuss and you must be tired from your journey. Where did you find my father?”

  “At the border of my kingdom,” Henri said, and the hair on the back of Snow’s neck stood up. “A day’s travel away.”

  “But that’s not far!” she said. Had her father been this close the whole time? Why hadn’t he tried to come back for her?

  Henri seemed to sense her struggle. He grabbed her hand again. His fingers were callused but warm, and she felt her body relax slightly. There was so much she didn’t know about the boy who stood in front of her. “I promise it will all begin to make sense once I tell you what he told me.”

  The two of them stared at one another. The dwarfs watched them silently, listening to the sound of a crow in the distance. “All right,” Snow said finally.

  “Are we going to get out of these woods and have dinner, or what?” Grumpy said, interrupting again.

  Snow exhaled. “Yes. Of course. Let’s go home,” she said, realizing that’s what the dwarfs’ cottage had become to her in a way the castle never could.

  The journey out of the woods could not end quickly enough. By the time they reached the dwarfs’ cottage, the sun was already beginning to dip. While Henri washed up, Snow and the men headed into the kitchen to prepare the roast for supper. Soon a fire was going, and the dwarfs performed their duties with Henri watching in wonder at how comfortable they all were together. Finally, he rose, grabbed a knife, and began chopping onions at her side. His hair was damp and pushed back off his forehead. He had changed into a beige linen shirt that was only laced halfway, revealing his chest and making her blush. Neither of them said anything for a while. Snow cut the carrots and peeled them, while Henri minced the parsley and cut the parsnips. Together they prepared the roast till all there was left to do was wait for it to cook.

  Snow settled into a chair, a cup of tea in her hand, anxious to hear Henri’s story. Although she had never expected to see him again, he was here, having come looking for her. If he had gone the long way to the castle, what would have happened to him? Would the Evil Queen have put him to death? Henri’s finding her in the woods felt a little bit like fate, if she had believed in such things. Was it her fate to lose both her mother and her father and be raised by an aunt with no ability to love? She didn’t know, but her heart told her Henri was someone she could trust. She wondered if he felt the connection like she did.

  “Please, Henri, tell me how you came to find my father,” she said, and all eyes turned to him.

  “And you better be telling us the truth,” Grumpy added.

  “No lying to the princess!” Doc agreed, and the other men nodded as they sat on chairs, the couch, or the floor, ready to listen.

  Henri took a deep breath and looked from Snow to the others. “I have no reason to lie. I wasn’t looking for Snow’s father. I knew nothing about King Georg being missing.”

  “Not missing,” Sneezy corrected. “He abandoned his kingdom and daughter!”

  Henri nodded, casting his blue eyes downward. “Right. After I saw Snow in the av
iary, I tried to meet with Queen Ingrid, but she wouldn’t hear of it without an appointment, and an appointment with the queen is hard to come by. I was told I’d have to wait months to have an audience, and even then, it couldn’t be guaranteed. I decided to head home, feeling as if I’d failed my people.” He looked at Snow. “I was so distressed. I didn’t know what I’d tell them. Maybe that’s why I pushed through my journey so quickly, traveling day and night to get home, not caring what the weather was. And it was treacherous. It rained for days and I was soaked to the bone. It was no wonder I took ill.” He smiled grimly. “So ill I took a spill into a lake and nearly drowned.”

  Snow leaned forward. “What happened?”

  “It was raining so hard I didn’t see the cliff. My horse did, stopping short and throwing me off,” Henri explained. “He ran away, which was a good thing, because that’s how Georg found me. He spotted my horse and the baggage it was carrying, and knew there had to be a rider nearby. He went searching for me.”

  “Mighty brave of him,” Sneezy blurted out, eyeing Snow. She didn’t say anything.

  “Yes,” Henri agreed. “The current was fierce and I was fighting to get back to shore with my last breath. I was so tired I grabbed on to a tree limb that had fallen into the water. I was ready to give up when Georg arrived and pulled me to safety.”

  “Probably caught a good cold or even pneumonia in those waters,” Doc hypothesized. “The weather has been pretty bad in much of our kingdom of late, too.”

  “Yes. I wish I had known this before I set out.” Henri’s face was grave. “Georg says I spiked a fever and slept fitfully for days. If he hadn’t taken me into his home and nursed me back to health, I wouldn’t have made it. I’m sure of that.”