Taking her by surprise, I plow into her and knock her to the marble floor. She lets go of Calla.
“Run, Calla!” I yell. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her run safely into Gallant’s arms.
My mother staggers to her feet. “You bitch! You were always a problem child!”
“No, you witch!” I scream back. “I was always there for you!”
“No, you just got in the way! You were too beautiful for your own good.”
Me? Plain Jane?
“I could have married a king if it wasn’t for you!”
“I didn’t—”
“Shut up! When that prick banned me from his kingdom, I vowed I would get revenge by destroying you. And that beautiful child of his.”
What is she saying? That she always intended to kill Snow White?
Catching me off guard, she rakes her brittle fingernails down my face. I wince as warm blood trickles down my cheek. Another scar, but what’s one more when I have so many.
Recharged, she goes at me with ruthless force. Kicking. Clawing. Punching. Pinching. Defending myself against her vicious assault, I accidentally tear off the detachable train of her gown. It meanders across the room like a river of blood.
“You’ve ruined my dress!” she shrieks. “Now, you’re really going to pay!” Slamming me to the floor, she claws at my beautiful black gown, shredding it to pieces.
“Stop it!” I scream. But she keeps at it.
I have no choice. Without thinking twice, I clamp my fingers around her withered neck and, with all my might, start squeezing the life out of her. I squeeze tighter and tighter. As she writhes and wheezes, a terrifying reality sets in. I’m strangling my own mother!
“You can’t destroy me,” she hisses.
“Yes, I can,” I hear myself say. I’ve wrestled with evil long enough. Now, this battle must end.
Her face turns gray. Her body convulses. The heels of her ruby slippers bang to the beat of her life as it ebbs away. Transfixed, as if under a spell, I watch her take her final breath. Her body quiets, and her lips spread as if she’s about to shoot me one last smirk.
Suddenly, a monstrous green and yellow snake bursts out of her mouth. I bolt back in horror as Gallant cries out my name. As it endlessly slides out, the lifeless shell of my mother disintegrates like a crumbling rock. All that’s left of her are her ruby slippers and a heart-shaped mound of black dust. And the smell of rotted flesh.
As I struggle to my feet, the ghastly serpent—it must be fifty feet long!—slithers across the shimmering red train, heading straight toward The Prince. Its deafening hiss sends everyone running except the royal family. Gallant protectively shields Calla.
Lifting her head, the serpent lets out a loud, hoarse laugh. “I’m coming for you.”
“Leave Calla alone. It’s me you want,” Gallant says stoically.
The hideous monster flicks her long, black forked tongue. “Yes, my love, it is you I want.”
My heart freezes in shock as she springs forward and snatches him. Coiling her body around him like a whip, she hoists him high into the air. Almost to the gilded ceiling of the multi-storied ballroom.
“Papa!” cries Calla. The King holds her back.
I watch with horror as my monster mother brandishes Gallant like a trophy. He tries desperately to twist himself free from her powerful grip. But it’s futile.
“My love, it’s finally time to say ‘I do’.” Her evil tongue grazes The Prince’s strong chin. Repulsed, he jerks his head away. Our eyes meet, his burning into mine.
I read his lips. “Jane, I love you.”
No one has ever said that to me before. No one.
My heart clenches as I cry out the words, “I love you too!”
“Gallant, my love, you belong to me!” hisses my mother.
“No, Mother, his heart belongs to me!” I shout back.
“Not this time, you wicked child.” Her jaw opens wide, exposing her venomous fangs. They’re as long and sharp as daggers.
My heart is thudding in my ears. I can’t let her take My Prince away from me. I can’t! With all the strength I can muster, I throw myself at her, attempting to tear her away from Gallant. The attack takes her by surprise. She lets go of Gallant, sending him flying. He lands head first in an unconscious heap. Crumpled and lifeless.
Calla screams. My heart stops. Oh my God! He’s dead!
“Jane, Jane, Jane,” my mother hisses. “Always messing up my life. It’s time for you to pay for being born!”
Uncoiling, she goes after me with hell-bent speed. I run. Faster than I ever have in my six-inch heels. I’m almost safely out the door when the unimaginable happens. One of my heels catches in the shreds of my once voluminous dress. I go flying across the marble floor, landing next to Gallant.
My Prince! My poor darling Gallant! He’s as pale as a corpse, yet he is as beautiful as ever to me. I gently run my fingers over the contours of his soft, peaceful face, making the outline of a heart. Red-hot tears tumble onto his ice-cold flesh. Heartache tears through me. I can’t resist. Cradling his head, I lean in close to him. And kiss him. One last time.
His lips, still warm and delicious, melt every fiber of my being. I love you, Gallant. I always will. If only my kiss could bring you back to me. Magic exists. Maybe not in a mirror, but in my heart, I know it does.
Running my fingers through his tousled hair, I press my lips deeper into his. Oh, please wake up! Please! He doesn’t move. Somewhere in my head, Calla’s voice calls out to me, but I can’t let go. I can’t! And then, without warning, a waft of cold air blows on the nape of my neck, sending a chill down my spine. I twist my head around and gasp. My mother. The monster!
“Now, Jane, kiss your mother good-bye,” she hisses in the same wicked tone I remember from my childhood.
Her breath of death is upon my cheeks. I’m terrified. Oh, God. Think, Jane, think! Without thinking, I rip off a shoe and scrape the sharp stiletto heel across her thick, scaly skin. The sharp sound of her leathery skin ripping apart is music to my ears.
She winces with pain, her head swinging wildly. “You evil girl! How could you do that to your mother?”
Ha! It was easy. I do it again. This time harder and deeper. A putrid green goo oozes out of her wounds. She sinks back to the floor, still twisting and turning. I slide back as she tilts up her head and glares at me with her wretched eyes.
“Jane,” she hisses, her voice almost a whisper, “it’s time to say good-bye to your mother.” Her movement has reduced to a sporadic jerk. She’s dying. But why does it sound like she’s mocking me?
Suddenly, she springs back to life and whips her body around mine, so tightly I can’t move. She’s tricked me! And now, I’m her prisoner. Just like I was as a child.
“Why didn’t you kill me before?” I ask, choking out the words.
Her wicked eyes flicker like two bolts of lightning. “I would have but I needed you. To take care of that meddlesome imp.”
And to do all her other shit just like I did as a child. If only my rage could empower me to break free of her bone-crushing grip.
She hisses. “Actually, I missed my big opportunity a long time ago. I should have finished you before I attempted to off that other imp.”
Other imp? Then it hits me. That snake I encountered in the forest on my way to giving Snow White the poison apple.
“It was you in the tree?” I gasp.
She laughs wickedly. “Such fond memories.” Her tongue flickers. “Too bad you don’t have a big red juicy apple now. It would make such a nice dessert.”
Her grip tightens. I can’t move a muscle. Her cackling laughter echoes across the room as she crushes me with her powerful body. Oh the pain! As I fight for my life, other memories reel around in my head, before connecting like pieces of a puzzle:
The snake that spooked The Prince’s horse the night of the duel…
The scary good-night story Marcella told Calla about the snake that ate children…
The rustling sound outside Gallant’s studio and the intruder the previous night…
The Fairytale Tattler story about the rare venom that put Snow White into her deep sleep…
The deadly snake that ultimately killed the fair Princess in her garden…
How could I have not seen it until now? My mother is a cold-blooded murderer. She killed Snow White. And now, she’s going to kill me!
That’s it! Whatever it takes, whatever the consequences, it’s time for her to come face-to-face with her evil self. Rolling side to side, I manage to wiggle one of my hands free from her grip of death. I tear Shrink’s locket off my neck and snap it open.
“Look at yourself!” I shout.
I shove the tiny mirror into her monstrous face. Shocked by her reflection, she jerks away.
“Look what you’ve done to me!” she shrieks. Flailing madly, she loosens her grip around me.
“And look what you’ve done to me!” With both hands now free, I rip open what remains of my gown and expose a lifetime of scars, each a souvenir of her loathing. If she’s going to kill me, she’s going to face the truth. All of it!
“No, Mother, it’s time for you to say good-bye to me.”
At last able to free myself completely, I leap to my feet. With all the muscle-power I have left, I stab one of my killer heels deep into her head, smack between her wicked eyes. A volcanic burst of venom spurts out and spatters me. She lets out a deafening scream. Nothing stops me. I dig my heel into her again and again and again until I’ve made hole as big as the one she’s left in my heart.
“Jane, you naughty girl,” she hisses hoarsely. “It’s time for another whipping.”
Without warning, her thick tail whips around and whacks me with a force so great it sends me crashing to the floor. My head cracks against the cold marble as Shrink’s locket goes flying out of my hand.
I can’t move. I’m paralyzed. Unable to blink an eye, I look up at my mother’s viperous, split-open head hovering two inches above me. A repulsive mixture of venom and slime spews out of her puncture onto my face. She glowers at me with her wretched, jaundiced eyes, then flicks her evil tongue across the tip of my nose. Terror fills every crevice of my being.
“Say good-bye, Jane. It’s such a shame we didn’t get to know each other better.”
As my mother’s deadly fangs sink into my skin, an explosion rocks me. There’s a flash of white light…Then blackness.
CHAPTER 36
Wearing layers of black tulle, I’m dancing miles high in the sky. I pirouette from one cloud to another. A shadow appears behind one of them. He’s back! The man with the black mask. He leaps through the cloud, grabs me around the waist, and our waltz begins. Our bodies float in perfect harmony like always except this time we’re flying too close to the sun. The heat makes me dizzy. He draws me nearer to him, leaning his head forward close to mine. The heat of his breath makes my temperature rise even more. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to unmask him. Find out who he is. With a sharp tug, I yank off his mask. I scream. He has no face! It’s a hideous, flesh-colored, gooey mass with deep sockets and crevices where his eyes, nose, and mouth should be. A revolting reddish substance oozes out of the openings and drips onto my hands, burning them like molten lava. I jerk away from the monster, and my heart drops. Oh my God. I’m falling from the sky!
Still plummeting, I hear a chorus of muddled voices around me.
“She’s okay,” says one.
“Our spell worked!” says another.
“It’s a miracle,” says a third.
I flutter my eyes open. It takes me a moment to adjust to the bright light that envelops me. Where am I? Everything is so familiar. The dingy yellow walls, the simple wood furniture, the barred up window. Can it be? I’m back at Faraway?
Three plump, winged women surround my bed. The Badass Fairies: Fanta, Flossie, and Fairweather. They break into a chorus of “lalalala.” A bird flies in through the open window and chirps along. I’m definitely back at Faraway!
“You survived a harrowing experience,” says Fanta.
“I read all about it in the Fairytale Tattler,” says Flossie.
“Fanta, let me borrow it!” says Fairweather.
Since when were gossip magazines allowed at Faraway?
I’m not sure what’s going on. What I do know is that my head is throbbing. I rub my forehead and discover what must be a two-inch scab above my left eye. This is not going to be pretty. I fumble for Shrink’s locket to take a peek, then gasp. My treasured keepsake is gone!
Fractured memories of the events that brought me back here drift in my head, creating a hazy montage. The ball. My beautiful black gown. My dance with The Prince. The serpent that ended my life…
Wait! I’m supposed to be dead!
“We used our magic to put you into a deep sleep,” says Fanta.
“We didn’t think we could still do it,” chimes in Flossie.
“Dear, it saved your life,” adds Fairweather.
“How long have I been asleep?”
In unison: “Three weeks.”
I gasp again. So, I’ve been in a deep sleep. Like Snow White. Except I woke up by myself. What happened to the handsome prince who was supposed to wake me with a kiss? Then it hits me like a stoning. My Prince is dead! Killed by Marcella! My mother! The monster! Sorrow, deep, raw, and ruthless, rocks my body. Gallant is gone forever!
“Dear, don’t cry,” says Fanta, dabbing my tears with her apron.
“We understand it’s been a very emotional experience,” says Flossie.
“You’ll feel better after you meet with Shrinkerbell,” says Fairweather.
Shrink. I so desperately need to talk to her. The Evil Queen who had no heart now has a heart that’s broken.
I’m lying on the tattered velvet chaise lounge, the same place where I’ve spent countless hours revealing my fears, my secrets, and my sorrows. How many tears have I shed on it? Only a few compared to what I’ve just shed waiting for Shrink. Gallant’s beautiful face fills my head. But his piercing blue eyes stab my heart. I keep bleeding tears.
Shrink, at last, comes buzzing in, sprinkling her fairy dust all over me. It was magical enough to transport me to another world, but it doesn’t numb my pain. I’m afraid there’s no magic in the universe that can do that. Like my mirror that shattered into a million little pieces, my splintered heart can never be mended.
Through my tears, I notice that Shrink’s blond hair hangs loose, and she’s not wearing those ridiculous bug-eyed glasses. Her tiny arms are stretched around a thick, hardcover book.
“What’s that?” I sniffle, doubtful that it’s some kind of cure.
“It’s my new book—The Peter Pan Complex: Why Some Men Never Grow Up. Tink gave me the idea.”
I half-heartedly listen. My mind is already back on Gallant.
“I begin my book signing tour tomorrow,” she continues. “But enough about me; we’re here to talk about you.” She pauses. “Jane, why are you crying?”
Drowning in my tears, I manage three words. “I lost someone.”
“Ah, yes, I heard,” she says in surprisingly matter-of-fact voice. “We’ll get to that later. Right now, let’s talk about something else.”
I’m taken aback. I so need to talk about Gallant. Isn’t she here to help me? Truthfully, I don’t know how much longer I can bear the pain. The heartbreaking, gut-wrenching pain.
Shrink grows impatient. “Jane, surely, there must be something else. So much has happened to you since we last met.”
Yes, so much. Yet, all I can think about is Gallant. My beautiful Prince.
“Well, Jane, we don’t have all day.”
My tears have wiped out everything else, except my dream. Somehow, I find the strength to relay it. I ask her what it means.
“The dance could symbolize your relationship with evil,” Shrink says in an analytical tone. �
��The man you unmasked was likely your mother.”
“My mother?” I shudder. “Where is she?”
“Your mother is dead.”
I’m confused. “Did I kill my own mother?” I cry out.
Shrink’s silence answers my question. A deep, unexpected sadness, one that has nothing to do with Gallant, sweeps over me. I bury my head in my hands.
“Jane, look at me.”
Slowly, I lift my head. Shrink is in my face, a blur from all my tears.
“Jane, you did not kill your mother.”
“But I must have!”
“No, Jane. The Huntsman shot her.”
The Huntsman? His gunfire must have created that explosion I heard.
“And I suppose he brought me her heart as a souvenir?” I ask with sudden bitterness.
“Your mother had no heart. She was a monster.”
I force myself to ask, “Was she born that way?”
“We’ll never know. Perhaps, she was the victim of some evil sorcerer’s spell.”
I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Sorrow. Remorse. Confusion. Relief. Maybe once my mother was a decent person. Shrink lets me collect myself and remains silent.
“Jane, you’re finally free of evil,” she says at last.
I’m free of evil? I’m speechless. I don’t know what to say.
“Come, Jane. I want you to take a look at yourself.” She whizzes over to a standing object at the far end of the room. It’s covered with a sheet.
Of course, it must be a full-length mirror. I dread seeing myself. After my ordeal and all this crying, I must look beyond terrible. The large scab on my face won’t help.
Hesitantly, I get up from the chaise and make my way over to it.
Shrink carefully pulls off the cloth, letting it slide to the floor. I gasp. It’s not a mirror. Before me is a large painting on an easel. A portrait of me holding Calla in my arms. Gallant’s last painting—the one he was working on in his studio. He must have completed it before the ball.
A rush of fresh tears cascades down my face as Gallant’s words from that extraordinary day float in my head. “You are meant to be painted.” All too sadly, My Prince will never paint me again.
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