Shards Of The Glass Slipper: Queen Alice

by Roy A. Mauritsen

  Phillip, his hands still shaking from the stinging, knelt down beside the coffin all but defeated, looking at his sleeping princess. “Damn it Ella,” he cursed softly. “After all of these years, everything we’ve been together. All I have done for you, all I’ve given to you, am I not deserved of your love?” he whispered in despair.

  A strong, elderly woman’s voice from above startled the prince. “I was curious to see what would happen.”

  He looked up to see the Maldame standing on the bedroom’s second floor dressing level, still adorned in the torn and dirtied ceremonious dress of Wonderland’s red queen initiate. She stepped forward into full view now, near the top of the stairs to the second floor of the queen’s chambers.

  “Maldame, Cinderella’s stepmother? How did you get in here?” Phillip said in surprise. “I though the fairy had banished you?”

  “It‘s easy when you have the kind of powerful magic as I,” the Maldame relished her own words. “Ah yes, the Fae Gaia, I was hoping she’d still be around. I have a score to settle with her over that,” she said.

  Standing at the top of the staircase, the Maldame placed her foot on the slumped body of Jovette, whom Phillip recalled the Fae Gaia had changed her back into human form from that of a huge spider. With little effort, the Maldame pushed the limp body of Jovette over the steps, sending the body awkwardly falling down the stairs. Jovette was dead, a blackened scorch mark was where her heart used to be.

  “It’s too bad fairies don’t kill,” the Maldame answered. “It seems that those that aren’t afraid to take a life manage to survive. I had to take care of some unfinished business first. Jovette was easy to find once I returned to the castle; exterminated like a spider deserves to be. Her measure of failures would not go unpunished. But your Cinderwench is another story. Who could imagine such an innocent heart could embrace such darkness. She showed such potential with the darker arts. With a little more time she would have been quite the protégé’ for the coven; it was about the only thing she could get right.”

  With the slightest gesture from her Wonderland wand the Maldame floated down from the bedroom’s second level to land softly in front of the prince. The Maldame looked beyond Prince Phillip to the glass coffin.

  “Don’t feel bad. I tried striking it myself, it didn’t work either, even tried my new wand on it,” she said, emphasizing her words by holding the wand up. “It’s a powerful wand. But even this magic couldn’t break the spell. I was about to give up on it. I couldn’t play the true love angle, but then again it seems neither can you.”

  Phillip stood up, his back against the coffin almost protectively to stand between Ella and the Maldame. His stone-faced expression shielded a fearful concern. He didn’t want to risk a telling glance, but without a weapon to defend himself escape was the next option he weighed; his gaze shot quickly over to the door.

  The Maldame caught his glance and with a wave from her wand, the door slammed shut and locked.

  “You won’t be leaving that way,” the Maldame said. “I didn’t really have any faith that your kiss would work,” she said. “On the off chance that it did, I wanted to see it play out, but…alas,” she pouted mockingly. “You know, I watched your princess flounder about trying to deal with the mess you left, all the while cursing your name. She was as inept at running a kingdom on her own as she was cleaning out my fireplace. If it wasn’t for my intervention and guidance, your kingdom would have fallen to ruin.”

  “My kingdom is in ruin because of you,” the prince replied. “I doubt you had any interest at all in running the kingdom you stole. Others will be up here soon,” he warned.

  “I doubt that. Phillip. There is a war going on out there. Generals fight wars, leaving the princes to rescue princesses,” the Maldame snidely countered.

  Phillip sized up the old woman, and then lunged at her, trying to grab at the wand in hopes to overpower her. There was a flash of energy and Phillip was whirled around and slammed back, face down across the coffin with the air knocked from his lungs for a moment. Phillip held on to the coffin to steady himself. Wincing from the painful blow, he slowly started to push off from the glass coffin, pausing again to catch his wind.

  “Fool!” The Maldame shouted, then she was behind him, gripping his locks of chestnut hair on the back of his head, as he grimaced against the painful pulling.

  “Have another kiss, Prince! Maybe this one will work!” Surprisingly strong, the Maldame drew his head back, then slammed him face first onto the glass coffin. His nose crunched and a gush of dark blood splattered onto the top of the glass coffin. Dazed, Phillip sunk to the floor.

  “What did you really hope to accomplish?” she asked. “Wake her up moments before Wonderland’s army overtakes the castle? Awaking her so that she can die with you? Selfish as usual,” she sneered. “Did you think you’d work things out? Did you think you’d magically win the war and save the kingdom by waking her up? What tactical advantage would you gain by her return? Or was this some guilt driven manifestation to make things right?”

  Before he could recover, the Maldame gave a sharp wave of her powerful wand. Magically, she lifted the prince up and sent him flying through the balcony doors, crashing through the wooden frame to the outside in a hail of splintered wood and tinkling glass. He landed hard against the stony railing at the end of the balcony.

  “How does it feel to not be the true love of someone you thought you were? If your kiss did work, I would have killed both you and Cinderella. Though it pains me to think that she will remain alive, forever sleeping until her true love can kiss her awake.”

  The Maldame walked through the door smug with victory; the draperies billowed fiercely in the wind behind her. “I will find her true love and kill him so that she will never wake again—a close second to the pleasure of taking her life, to be sure; but that’s life I guess. Since your kiss did not work, I have no need of you. And neither does your pretty princess!” Her feet crunching on the shattered glass doors the Maldame stepped among the pieces as the balcony door curtains rolled about in the air like licks of billowing flame. She stood at the balcony entrance, blocking Phillip from the room. “Here you are again; I thought it fitting, to return you to the balcony where she almost had the nerve to kill you. Now I will finish the job.”

  The Maldame’s threatening words registered with Phillip and he quickly got to his feet to stand against her on the balcony. Still in pain from landing among the sharp shards of glass he grabbed a piece of wood from the broken window frame of the balcony door.

  “You don’t know anything about love, Witch!” Phillip mustered all of his strength, and lunged at the Maldame, driving the sharp wooden piece at her.

  The Maldame was quick too react, there was another burst her powerful wand, and with a green flash the prince was pushed backward against the rail, nearly falling over the side. The green energy crackled about him, and Phillip suddenly felt an intense burning pain flowing through his legs. His legs began to feel heavy and unresponsive and his skin burned. He cried out in pain as he looked down; watching as his legs begin to turn to stone. Tingling and numbness began about his fingers and in disbelief he held his hands up, his skin turning grey and his fingers began to harden in pain wracking contortions. The bones of his hands and arms felt as if they were breaking as they began to fuse with the hardening flesh around them. Unable to keep them up anymore, his arms dropped heavily to his sides. Utterly helpless, Phillip could only experience the pain as felt his abdomen tighten and harden. The stone transformation reached his spine, the back breaking agony forcing him to arch backward, his mouth open and unable to catch his breath as he felt all of the air push from his hardening lungs, his screams of pain and fear, fading away as the last of his air left. Phillip’s chest felt like a heavy boulder was crushing it. His ribs one by one turned to stone and unable to expand or collapse he gasped desperately to breathe, and then a cold pain gripped his stony chest, as his heart fused into rock. Phillip’s final view as his v
ision faded to black was the sight of the Maldame pulling the broken piece of wooden window frame from her side.

  At least Phillip had landed his blow and wounded the Maldame, it was his last moment of solace as his eyes grayed over and turned to stone. His last thought, Ella.

  The killing transformation was over in a few short moments.

  The odd position of the stone remains of Prince Phillip, back arching as the transformation completed, and the sheer weight of the stone made it highly unbalanced. The stone statue of the once living prince teetered awkwardly for a moment, and then fell backward against the balcony railing, stone and rail collapsing, giving way from the weight. Prince Phillip’s stone body fell, tumbling down past the rooftop spires. It clipped the edge of a lower roof that send it spiraling down at a faster pace, and shattered to pieces as it crashed upon the walkway of a small garden far below.

  With a smirk of satisfaction, The Maldame peered down the edge for a time admiring her accomplishment. With all of the chaos of battle going, the focus was on the besieged castle walls, no one was around to even take notice of the fallen statue. From her view from the balcony, it resembled more like battle-strewn rubble than that of a prince. The Maldame marveled at the power of her wand with a smug look of gross admiration. The magic of Wonderland was impressive, indeed. But not great enough to open the glass coffin so far, she thought. She had little time, as undoubtedly someone would come up looking for the prince.

  The Maldame turned and started in from the balcony when a cold dark shadow covered her and a great whoosh came from giant leathery wings. The Maldame whirled around in surprise to see a dragon the size of a horse, settling on a perch on the railing. Startled by the sudden appearance of the beast, the Maldame stumbled back inside the room, stopping as she bumped into the glass coffin. The dragon gave an angry roar towards the Maldame as its rider dismounted. With a pat on the side, the rider sent the dragon off.

  “This will be my fight, dragon,” the rider commanded. “You may return to your home.”

  “Fae Gaia,” the Maldame spat, suddenly eager for a rematch with her new and more powerful wand; she scoffed at the fairy, “Fae don't kill."

  “No, I am no longer part of the Fae,” the former fairy corrected. “I am here as Ella’s mother. And I take issue with your treatment of my child in my absence.”

  “With no magic to save you then, you and your issues will be short lived,” the Maldame gloated as she raised her powerful wand at her.

  Ella’s mother reached over her shoulder and pulled forth Fae Gaia’s sword, glowing blue with ethereal mist rolling from the blade, she lowered it at her daughter’s former stepmother.

  “I have this,” her blues eyes narrowed as she tightened her grip on the hilt, steeling herself for a fight. The Maldame paced slowly for a moment. The two circled the glass coffin, watching each other closely, keeping their distance with their weapons in front of them pointed at the other.

  The Maldame had seen the power of Fae Gaia’s sword in this very room and it gave her a slight hesitance. But only for a brief moment as the Maldame’s anger burst forth and with a yell, the Maldame thrust her wand forward and unleashed a spray of deadly energy at Ella’s mother.

  Defensively, the former fairy brought the magical sword up in front of her to stave off the attack and to the surprise of both of them; the sword absorbed the magical attack.

  Ella’s mother quickly realized this and wasting no time she directed her sword at the Maldame.

  Nothing happened. She pointed it again. Again nothing.

  The Maldame quickly overcame her surprise and laughed as she watched the former fairy try to cast the spell back at her. “Just because you have a magic sword of the fairies doesn’t mean you know how to use magic, dearie,” she cackled confidently.

  “It’s still a sword,” Ella’s mother replied threateningly. In response the ethereal blade seemed to harden into a sharpened sword.

  “Perhaps, and it would make a nice decoration over my fireplace,” the Maldame replied with her own thinly veiled threat.

  Ella’s mother lunged forward, charging the Maldame. With a wave of her wand, the Maldame disappeared and in a flash of light reappeared further away up on the second level balcony.

  “Unlike you, I know how to control magic,” the old witch goaded. “And unlike you, I was at least around for your daughter’s childhood. You should be thankful for the discipline of honest work I taught her. Where were you? That’s right…you were dead.”

  With an angry growl, Ella’s mother thrust the sword out at the Maldame and much to her surprise, a bolt of blue energy crackled forth haphazardly scorching a deep gouge as it danced about the wall and ceiling near the Maldame. The explosion of sparks and chipped stone assailed the Maldame and in the roll of dust and smoke, the former fairy had lost sight of her.

  The Maldame materialized next to her and with exceptional strength back-handed Ella’s mother, sending her sprawling over the glass coffin.

  “You should have stayed dead!” she hissed. “I’ll see to it you go back where you belong… back in the ground!”

  “I’ll take you down with me… for what you did to my daughter. And for the death of Patience’s mother,” Ella’s mother rose slowly to her feet. Making her way around Cinderella’s coffin, she kept one hand pressed against it for support.

  “You were supposed to die at child birth,” the Maldame said as she circled the glass coffin. “The spell Dame Gothel had created was supposed to kill you. The prophecy foretold your child would take the throne. But it did not speak of twins. So we took your first born boy. Yet unexpectedly, it was your daughter that was to marry into royalty and rule. It was your daughter’s presence in your womb that confounded the spell. She saved your life at least for a while. She can’t save your life now though.”

  “You are a vile creature,” the former fairy growled as she charged again at the Maldame.

  And just as quickly, the wicked stepmother shot out dagger-like bolts of magic from her wand in rapid succession. Each one deflected by Fae Gaia’s sword. But the bolts came so fast, one managed to make its mark. Whizzing past, it slashed a painful cut across Ella’s mother’s rib cage. The shock and pain of the magical bolts were enough to throw her timing off and several more bolts slammed into her, knocking her down to her knees in agony.

  The Maldame was upon her, with a furious growl she laid a powerful kick into the stomach of the stunned former fairy that sent her sprawling to the ground gasping for air; dazed she barely managed to keep hold of her sword.

  “Let me remind you, Dearie, that even without magic you are no match for me,” the Maldame hissed as she came around behind her and grabbed a fist full of hair, agonizingly pulled the former fairy to her feet.

  “I’ll end this quickly for you,” the Maldame held her close and dug her pointed wand painfully into the fleshy side of her opponent’s neck. “Drop Fae Gaia’s sword, for you are not worthy to wield such magic.”

  The wand began to glow green and the skin on the former fairy’s neck began to harden to stone.

  “You are not worthy,” Ella’s mother replied through her gritted teeth. Then she shifted slightly, quickly flipping her grip on the hilt of the sword and drove it blindly backwards, blade-first behind her.

  The Maldame shrieked and let go of Ella’s mother, who spun around to see that her sword was buried into the Madame’s abdomen. Ella’s mother pulled the blade out as the Maldame stumbled backwards; gasping as she looked down at the wound, she brought her hands to cover it then quickly waved her wand.

  The wound disappeared. Still focused on her new ability to heal her wound, the Maldame gave an evil chuckle, amused and even slightly relieved at the extent of her power. The green energy began to glow about its tip again as she began to raise her wand towards Ella’s mother.

  “Almost got me, Dearie, good for you,” the Maldame cackled as she went to point her deadly spell at the former fairy.

  But the former fairy was no
longer in front of the glass coffin.

  As the Maldame had been distracted with healing her wound, Ella’s Mother had rolled low to the side. Then as the Maldame raised her wand, she came in from the side and brought her sword to bear; the solidified blade sliced through the withered wrist of the old witch. The Maldame’s severed hand dropped limply to the floor, still clutching the powerful wand.

  Eyes wide open in a look of traumatic shock and her mouth agape in disbelief, the Maldame grabbed her bloody stump of her wrist and began a loud wail of agony.

  “That was for Patience’s mother,” Ella’s Mother fumed in a loud whisper, “and this is for what you did to my child!”

  Then with all of her might she swung the sword across at the witch’s neck. The Maldame’s primal cry was silenced as her head flew from her shoulders and fell to the floor with a wet, heavy thump as the body immediately dropped where it had stood. The former fairy gathered her strength and went to the wall. She pulled a tapestry from its hanging golden rod and covered the Maldame’s body from view. Dizzy and weak, Ella’s mother kicked the wand and severed hand under the tapestry and out of view. She stumbled back and braced herself against the magical glass casket. Out of breath, out of adrenaline and running out of the residual magic left within her, there was little time left.

  There is no truer kiss of love than that of a mother to her child. Cinderella's mother waved her hand along the glass and like a shadow the glass fell away where her hand passed over it. Like the last bit of winter’s ice thawing away to the sun on the first day of spring, the glass parted revealing the face of the sleeping Cinderella. It was then that her mother leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her child’s forehead.

  Cinderella's eyes fluttered open.

  “Mother!” she exclaimed her face instantly brightened with happiness, as she sat up. “You’re alive!” Cinderella exclaimed. “Are you a ghost? Is this a dream?”

  The glass receded completely now, and formed back into the glass slippers.