“So you know of it,” the Queen acknowledged.
“Of course we do! It was—”
“We who created it—”
“Though not created it, as in tempered and gilded—”
“But we who captured the Mirror Maker’s soul—”
“Not captured”—Lucinda spat—“he granted it to us—”
“And we captured it, tied it up in spider silk webbing, as it floated out of his body and up, up, up—”
“And we who took it and locked it away—”
“In the Magic Mirror. Don’t forget, sisters—”
“It was he who had asked, he who had begged—”
“He who bartered his soul away.”
The sisters began to cackle again.
The Queen stared at the women coolly. “I demand you tell more. What is this barter you speak of?”
The sisters began a tale that was less fragmented than the Queen had ever heard usher from their lips.
They spoke as one. “You see, the maker of mirrors, his wife wanted a child—wanted a child more than anything. Yet she was barren. And the maker of mirrors could not bear to see her unhappy. And we, we cannot bear to see one so unhappy, so we engaged the maker of mirrors. We told him, that for a price, we could make it so that his wife might bear fruit. But the cost was not small—”
“His soul,” the Queen finished.
The sisters nodded in agreement, then continued.
“So, the child was hers—and his—but he owed us dearly….”
The Queen was perplexed by her emotions. She should hate the sisters for what they had done to her father, but the Queen herself so hated the man that she took great comfort in the sisters’ weird imprisonment of him.
“Go on,” the Queen commanded.
“So when the child was born, we sealed the deal for his soul, and he had his gift—his child. We would claim his soul once he shuffled off this mortal coil. A pity—an irony—that your mother would not live to appreciate his sacrifice.”
“We delivered the mirror to your husband,” Lucinda said.
“And did you the favor of having him give it to you,” Ruby finished.
“Oh dear, how hard it must have been for you to be without either of your loving parents,” Martha said, grinning.
“But now, with the Magic Mirror, your father is always near,” Lucinda said, grinning now, too.
“I believe you said something to me at the funeral. About the mirror. About my father. About taming the spirit within,” the Queen said, ill at ease with the conversation and becoming increasingly anxious.
“Are you experiencing problems? Is it not working quite right—are you having some trouble calling upon your father, my dear?” the sisters asked, moving dizzyingly from one speaker to the next.
“Yes,” the Queen said. “Can you show me how to tame the spirit?”
The sisters chuckled.
“Are you certain that is what you wish?” they asked.
The Queen nodded.
“You might find yourself ruined by the things—”
“He tells you.”
“Go on. I command you,” the Queen snapped.
The sisters shuffled over to the mirror and linked their hands. They held their arms over their heads and began to chant:
Slave in the Magic Mirror,
Come from the farthest space.
Through wind and darkness we summon thee.
Speak! Let us see thy face.
A cool wind began to blow through the room, and the curtains danced like ghosts. A flame appeared in the mirror, and then—the face appeared in a swirling purple mist, just as it had all those times before. But something was different. The face in the mirror was almost expressionless and much more docile than it had previously been. Was what they said true? Had their incantation tamed him?
“What wouldst thou know, sisters?”
The sisters chuckled and sniggered.
“Why have you been so very unruly for your new mistress?” the sisters asked.
“I have not been kind to Her Majesty, this I know and this you can see, for she has never summoned me with the power that shackled me by thee.”
The sisters laughed again. “You may leave now, Slave,” the sisters said. And the face in the Magic Mirror dissolved in a swirling purple whirl.
“Does this tutorial suit Your Majesty?” the sisters asked.
“Very much so,” the Queen said, smiling. “You may go now.”
“Before you send us on our way—” Lucinda said.
“We’ve left you another gift—” Ruby continued.
“You will find it in your dungeon. Use it—” Martha said.
“Well,” Ruby finished.
When evening fell and the sisters had left the court, the Queen approached the Magic Mirror, still tired, but more hopeful now that she would find what she looked for there. She was so fixed on the mirror that she did not give the sisters’ second gift a thought. She gazed into the reflective glass and considered what she would ask. Then she recited the sisters’ incantation and called forth the Slave in the mirror.
“What wouldst thou know, my Queen?” the Slave asked.
“I wish to know of my husband. Is he well? Is he among the gods or the demons?”
“I have told you before, my Queen, I cannot see beyond that which can be seen.”
The Queen considered this. All hope that she would know what had been in store for her husband after his death swiftly left her. She could barely see her reflection beyond the face in the mirror. But what she could see terrified her. She was as ugly as her father had always said she was. There was only one thing other than news of her husband that might lift her spirits.
“Tell me, mirror, who it is that is fairest in the land?” she said desperately.
“Are you certain that you wish for me to answer that request?” the Slave asked.
“Certain,” the Queen said gritting her teeth.
“Know that I am bound by the truth,” the Slave replied.
“Then, if it is not I, tell me who it is,” the Queen said, becoming enraged.
“I did not say it was not you. I told you I could not lie. I thought you should be aware before treading into this territory.”
The Queen sneered and nodded.
“Who is she, Slave? Who is the fairest one of all?” the Queen asked.
“You have been weathered by this experience. You are worn and…” the Slave said.
“Out with it, man!” the Queen yelled, pounding her fist upon the mantel and shouting. “Who is fairest in all the land?”
“You are, my Queen,” the Slave replied. Then he disappeared in a swirl of mist, and the Queen could once again see her face. Her eyes narrowed and a wicked grin stretched across one corner of her mouth.
Shortly after her exchange with the Slave in the mirror, the Queen finally emerged from her chamber, looking as regal as ever. And it had been as Verona said it would be—the kingdom had waited to embrace the Queen as their sole ruler. And they did so in the grandest fashion imaginable.
The day was a whirlwind of red rose petals floating magically in the air, evoking the day she married the King, which caused a tight pain in her chest and the threat of tears. Snow rushed to the Queen and hugged her around her knees. Verona stood beside them and smiled.