Closed Doors and Broken Mirrors

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Closed Doors and Broken Mirrors Page 3

by S R Nulton


  “Ever since my birthday, the servants have started to disappear. We only ever had two other women working here, but both of them are gone.”

  She frowned. “That’s… that’s not good. What about the others? I usually avoid them, so…”

  I shook my head, not needing her to finish that sentence. “We’ve gone from a dozen to about five in the last three months.”

  Mama sighed and leaned back in her chair, exhaustion showing on her face. “I don’t know.” She paused. “Snow, you have your bags packed, yes?”

  My travel bags. I nodded. Ever since I ran away the first time, Mama had made sure that I had a bag of supplies at the ready, both upstairs in my room and down in the library. She always said that there was no excuse for being unprepared and no use in running away just to die of exposure because you didn’t think ahead. She tried hard to make it seem normal, to make everything normal, but it wasn’t and she couldn’t. Our lives would never be normal. We both knew that something bad was happening; we just didn’t know what.

  “Yes, ma’am. If anything happens, I’m ready to leave.” The bags were pretty basic. An empty waterskin, two changes of clothes, boots, some hard tack, a hunting knife and a flint. We had hidden a bow and quiver of arrows in the forest in two different places, just in case I needed to use an alternative path to get to our safe area, and I knew of at least three different places to fill up the waterskin before moving on.

  “There’s no harm in being prepared,” she said, voicing my own thought.

  That was the last of the conversation, but it was enough to kick her attention into full gear. My mama had been so caught up in getting me ready to leave over the past few years that she’d forgotten to watch our surroundings. She always warned me about the dangers of complacency. I’d reminded her and we were on the outlook for any changes and what they might mean.

  And there were a lot of changes to come.

  My father had been an infrequent visitor to the Queen’s castle, to no one’s dismay, but that all changed. Not that I would know it, for all the attention he paid me. Still, over the next year he was constantly in and out of our lives. Sometimes he stayed for an hour and then disappeared for a day and other times was there for a week and gone for an entire month. He never stayed away any longer than that, though.

  And every time he came back, he would ask about a door and whether Mama had gone through it or not.

  She never had, but that seemed to upset him, for some odd reason. I didn’t understand why though. He’d told her not to go down there. Usually he was happy when people obeyed him, but it seemed like he wanted her to break the rules. I just didn’t understand why.

  The door itself was odd, too. It was always making unusual noises, like someone was trapped down there. Not when I was alone, though. Only when I walked by with Mama. When I asked her about it, she seemed completely confused.

  “What noises? Oh! I think it’s a cat that’s living down there. I try not to listen though. Your father said not to go down there and I have no desire to see what he’s hiding.”

  “But how would a cat get down there? And what if someone’s trapped?” I asked.

  She snorted. “Please. Look at the floor, little light.”

  So I did. There was a table in front of the door. “The table?”

  “I said floor. Look at the dust. The footman in charge of the main hall left just before your father gave me the key. The floor hasn’t been dusted in front of that door since before your birthday. There’s no way that someone got down there without disturbing the dust unless they used another entrance. We’ve been all over this house and the grounds a thousand times. Don’t you think we would have found something if there was something to find?”

  I pondered that for a moment. “What if he used magic?”

  Mama rolled her eyes. “I can see magic. There is plenty on this castle and on that door, but none on the dust and certainly none that would allow someone to avoid it. No, if there is someone down there, they came a different way and we aren’t going to open doors we’ve been told to avoid.”

  And that was that. Or, at least, we thought so.

  Things changed again the year I turned 14. Father gave Mama a mirror. For my birthday. He even insisted she put it in her bedroom. It wasn’t wise to disobey him, so she did as he told her. Later, she told me it was an enchanted mirror, but that something was wrong with it. She didn’t know what though.

  I wish I’d pushed the issue, but I didn’t really want to think about it.

  ~

  “Mama, are you alright?” I asked my glassy eyed companion.

  “Penguins. I’ve always wanted to see one. They live too far away though.”

  I sighed and watched her balance a book on her head and a teaspoon on her nose. She was getting worse.

  Over the past four years, she had begun to lose her mind. It was absolutely tragic and so confusing. She was a bright, sharp person. What’s more, she was only 30 years old. I’d heard of older people becoming forgetful but not like this. She was just going mad for no reason.

  And what made it worse was how scared she was when she was lucid.

  “I can feel myself slipping away,” she’d confided just a few days before. “It’s like my mind is a basin and there’s a crack in it, letting all my sense and memories drip out. Snow, what am I going to do?”

  Then there was father. He had started coming by again. After my 14th birthday, his visits had dropped off for a bit, with him only showing up every two months. He never stayed long, though. On my 18th birthday, he had come and sat with us for an entire hour, seeming delighted by my mother’s lack of lucidity and then asked about the door again.

  He wasn’t pleased with her response.

  “I like kitty cats. We should get a lion.” And then she dissolved into giggles and started roaring.

  The library door banged against the wall and pulled me out of my thoughts.

  And there was Bekins. Again. “The King will be home tonight.” He stared at me, looking disgusted as always.

  If it weren’t for my Mama’s reassurances and the books that I read, I’d probably think all men were evil. Bekins certainly was. It had taken me until I was 15 to realize that he was jealous. For some reason he wanted to be related to my father. I’d heard him muttering about how unworthy we were of such an association while cleaning my father’s chamber. It was bizarre and disturbing. When I’d asked my mother about it, she just smiled vaguely and asked who his parents were. It was an odd question, but it led to me delving more deeply into Father’s journals.

  That was when I discovered just how old Bekins really was… as well as my father. Apparently, good help is so hard to find that Father felt the need to extend the servant’s life.

  And Bekins was still glaring at me.

  “Yes?” I asked, innocently.

  “He will expect you to dress and present yourself for dinner. Stay in your rooms until then.”

  Ah! They’re having another secret meeting in the gallery. My father loved to visit the gallery when he was planning something. I still didn’t understand who all the women were that were pictured there, but Mama seemed to and it made her sad. I just found it creepy. Still, Mama and I liked to sit in on his planning meetings.

  Actually, we liked to listen in from the hidden hallway and figure out what we needed to be careful of, but what’s a little eavesdropping between family members?

  “Come on Mama. Let’s get you in a pretty dress.” I pulled the ditzy woman up from her arm chair and escorted her back to her rooms.

  “Snow,” she began. “Are we dropping eaves tonight?”

  I smiled at the little joke. When I was about six, I’d asked what an ‘eaves’ was and why anyone would want to drop it. She’d been listening.

  “Yes, Mama. Yes, we are.”

  It didn’t take long for us to put on some nice dresses. It took even less time to sneak back downstairs and hide in the hallway. Over the many years of sneaking around, I’d discov
ered that I was quite good at memorizing spaces. I could remember how many steps it was from one wall to another and hardly ever lost my bearings. It helped me walk down a completely dark hall without tripping or bumping into anything. Mama, of course, didn’t need any help at all. She could see in the dark.

  We settled in at the listening area for the gallery and cuddled up together. I loved that part. Ever since we’d first found it, we would sit on the floor and lean into each other. Then, Mama would pull me to her and run her fingers through my hair. It was a safe place for us. No servant knew about it and my father may have but he never checked. No one was watching. We didn’t have to act formal or stuffy. We didn’t have to pretend we were anything other than mother and daughter. As the years passed and my father came more and more, such security was rare. We took advantage of every bit we could get.

  About an hour later, we heard the two men enter. It wasn’t difficult. Neither knew how to walk any quieter than a bull moose in a full charge.

  “This is getting ridiculous. None of the rest lasted this long,” Father complained.

  “Your Majesty, you must remember that she was raising your child as well.” Bekins practically spit out the word child. Not that it surprised me.

  “Even so, she hasn’t even gone near the door. I’ve never gone this long…” Father sighed before continuing. “There must be something else going on. She should have been completely mad by now.”

  No one spoke for a moment, but Mama and I both look at each other. She wasn’t going crazy by accident! They’d done something to her!

  If she hadn’t held me down, I would have leapt out that door and started yelling at the men, demanding they fix it. But that would have put us both in too much danger. No, we’d figure it out on our own.

  “She… she seems less happy when she isn’t around your daughter, Majesty. I rarely see it, but even those few minutes… Well, there is a difference.”

  I blinked. I’ve been keeping her sane?

  “I never should have let her raise the girl. She’s gotten too attached and now she has something to protect. A mother’s love and all that,” Father mused. Then he sighed again. “I suppose I’ll just have to get rid of her.”

  “The queen?”

  “Of course I’m getting rid of her, you imbecile, but not yet. She hasn’t fallen into my trap yet. No, I’m talking about Snow White. She’ll have to go. Unfortunately, I can’t marry her off quickly enough. People would wonder why her stepmother isn’t coming to the wedding. For some odd reason, they remember her still. Plus, royal weddings take too long to organize.”

  My hand felt like it was being crushed. Mama was not pleased. I can’t say I was too excited about it either.

  “So, we need to kill your daughter?” Bekins asked. He sounded far too cheerful about the prospect.

  “Yes. I was hoping that I could use her somehow, but it appears that she’s become a detriment. I’ll try one more thing but then we’ll need to get rid of her. If only that chit I married were using the mirror properly…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s an enchanted mirror. It can tell you the truth. I’ve heard tales of people who have gotten so obsessed with what the mirror tells them that they ignore everyone else. I just happened to marry the only woman in the world who doesn’t talk to herself in the mirror.”

  They talked a bit more, but it was all about how the castle’s finances were doing. Within 15 minutes, they had left and we were free to talk again.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked, whispering.

  Mama sat quietly for a moment. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  “How? I can’t just disappear. You heard what he said. You’ll lose the rest of your mind and he’ll finally be free to kill you.”

  “Oh, my little light! We’ll figure this out. But you’re right. We can’t just have you disappear. He’d go after you, even if only to save his reputation. But don’t worry. I have a plan. We just have to wait for your father to leave.”

  So we did. It only took until the next day. He never wanted to stick around too long. By the time he’d left, Mama’s plan was already in motion.

  “I want some wildflowers. Go get me some,” she demanded at lunch.

  Bekins frowned as he served us, but said nothing.

  “But we have lovely flowers in the garden, Mama,” I responded, playing up my confusion. ‘Wildflowers’ had been our backup excuse when we went wandering in the forest, not that anyone had ever asked. I was pretty sure that it was part of her plan to help me escape.

  “But I don’t want garden flowers. I want wildflowers. The huntsman will take you. Then you can come back and help me find a penguin.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  We finished our lunch in silence before I left to change into my boots and slip on a pair of trousers under my dress. Then, basket in hand, I hugged my mother goodbye and headed out the door.

  Oak the huntsman met me at the edge of the wood with a familiar bag at his feet. It was one of my travel bags!

  “Highness,” he said with a head nod. “This way please.”

  He led me into the woods for an hour before we reached a young man with a hog and a cart.

  “My son, Hill. Your mother wanted you to change and give me your dress.”

  “Why?” I asked as I pulled the gown over my head. The younger man blushed and looked away, but the older one just raised a brow and shook his head. “What? I’m wearing a long shirt underneath. I always do.”

  “It’s the principle of the thing, missy. But I suppose you’ve only been around the servants before this. Be careful when you meet men your own age. They see things differently than you do.”

  I shrugged and handed him my dress before tucking my shirt into my trousers and pulling my coat out of my bag. “So what do you need my dress for?”

  “To prove I killed you,” Oak replied before slitting the hog’s throat. I’d killed and dressed plenty of game with my mother, but I still flinched.

  Then I understood. “You need it’s heart, don’t you?”

  Oak nodded. “Easiest way. She's going to tell him no one is prettier than she is. Silly reason, but he'll believe it. Now go on. We don’t need to know where your headed, but your mother will want to know you got off safe.”

  “What about you? My father won’t let you live just because Mama ordered you to kill me.”

  He smiled. “I came here with your mother, did you know that? Not the current queen, the one who gave birth to you. She was my little cousin. By the time I tracked her here, she was already married and stuck. I stayed to keep an eye on her. I couldn’t save her, but I can help save you. After I deliver the heart, I’m going back to Lettelach. You are welcome to visit sometime. Just ask for Oak Hunter in Lake, our capital.”

  “I will. Thank you, cousin Oak. Be safe.”

  “You as well, little cousin.” And then he turned and began to cut the hog’s heart out.

  And I turned and walked into the forest. I would be back, though. Once I figured out how to save my mother, I’d be back to free her. Even if I had to kill my father to do it.

  ~

  “Why are you here? I thought I got rid of you,” a familiar voice declared.

  I looked up and blinked. Where an empty clearing had once stood, there was a cottage. And a Fey man standing outside it holding a gigantic coffee mug.

  “Wait, aren’t you the man who found me when I was 13?” I asked in amazement. I’d been traveling for a few days and was exhausted, so my address wasn’t as polite as it should have been. Luckily that didn’t seem to bother the man.

  “You mean, you aren’t 13 anymore? Weren’t you just here last month?”

  I started laughing. Then I started crying. Three days of trekking through the woods, laying false trails and attempting to disappear combined with the fear and pain of leaving my mother alone with the monster who helped give me life… I was at the breaking point and seeing someone familiar and only slightly hostile w
as reassuring enough to make me let go.

  “Skies, I hate it when they start dripping. Alright, come in. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Before I knew it, I’d followed him into one of the messiest places I’d ever seen. And I grew up in a massive castle that seemed to get dirtier every time another servant disappeared. Of course, the castle wasn’t really messy. Everything was in place; it just never got cleaned. The cottage on the other hand…

  “Why do you have so many dishes on the floor?” I asked, staring at the kitchen in utter confusion. “And how is everything so clean and so messy at the same time?”

  “Keeps people from stealing things. Now, what happened? Didn’t you have a mother last time I saw you?”

  I nodded and took the seat he offered, and the mug of tea. Then I told him everything that had happened.

  “Ugh! Blue Beard. He’s the only downside to living here. Of course, he avoids this part of the country, so there’s that. But I have just the place for you to stay!”

  I blinked, then narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?”

  “Of course! But I’ve recently been informed that children need to be trained, so I’ll make sure you’re all set up. Oh, and that stone bird in your bag? You can use that to send messages to your mother. But I can’t be any more involved than this!”

  I frowned and checked my bag. Sure enough, there was one of the stone birds that he’d given Mama when we saw him last. “How di–” I stopped. I wasn’t in his cottage anymore!

  Standing up quickly, I looked around. “Where am I?”

  “A better question, girl, is why are you here?”

  CHAPTER 3: WHAT MAKES YOU FIGHT?

  CAILLTE LYNN

  “Dear Mama,

  You won’t believe who I ran into in the forest. That Fey man who helped me when I was 13. He listened to everything and then sent me to a house on the edge of the forest. And he set me up with a tutor. Lorith isn’t the most cheerful man I’ve ever met, but he’s a relative of yours. Somehow. You never mentioned that dwarves keep such good track of all their relatives!

 

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