“Nah,” Jack said. “If anything, you would have been born that way.”
She punched him for that. “
Explain
what you’re talking about,” she growled. “You’re talking about
the
Snow White? Like, with the Wicked Queen and all?”
“Yes! Did she ever talk about the Wicked Queen?” Jack said, his eyes going wide.
“No, because my grandmother isn’t a character in a fairy tale.”
“Fairies don’t have tails,” Jack said, pointing at the fairy in May’s hair, whose behind was sticking straight up into the air as she snored. “Not too observant, are you,” he said.
May snorted. “I’m gonna observe me punching you again in a second. Not tails …
tales
. Stories. Anyway, Snow White isn’t real. She’s made-up.”
“That’s what the Wicked Queen used to say,” Jack told her. “The Queen started rumors that Snow White wasn’t real. Other people thought Snow White had died. But I guess she was just … well, in Punk.” Jack smiled. “You have no idea how great that news is, that Snow White is still alive.”
“Okay, fine,” May said. “Snow White’s real here. You’ve got fairies, you’ve got magic books. You probably have cats walking around in boots too.”
“Not anymore,” Jack said. “If there ever were cats like that, they were hunted down years ago with the rest of the talking animals.”
That shut the princess up for a moment. “What, seriously?” she said finally. “Are you kidding?”
Jack shook his head. “It’s a long story. Anyway, Snow White disappeared back at the end of the Great War, and no one’s heard from either her or the Wicked Queen since.”
“But why would you think
my
grandmother is Snow White?” May asked. “I mean, her name’s Eudora Winterbourne. And don’t make some kind of stupid connection between ‘winter’ and ‘snow.’”
“Look at the facts,” Jack said. “First, your grandmother is the spitting image of Snow White: pale skin, black hair, beautiful …”
“Right,” May said. “The fairest one of all. I get it. But you just described like half a bajillion women.”
“Second,” Jack continued, ignoring her, “did you hear what she and the Huntsman were talking about? They mentioned the Wicked Queen and betrayal and Snow White … and the Mirror!” Jack shuddered. “If the Wicked Queen has her Mirror again, we’re all dead.”
“Mirror?” May asked.
“It’s the Wicked Queen’s most powerful magic,” Jack said. “From what people say, her Magic Mirror knows everything, and answers any question you ask it, even if what you’re asking about hasn’t happened yet.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” May said. “How could it know the future?”
Jack looked at her oddly. “I just said, it’s magic.”
“Oh,
okay
, thanks for the explanation,” she said. “So my grandmother mentioned something about a mirror and the Wicked Queen. That doesn’t make her Snow White.”
“Think about the stories you’ve heard,” Jack said. “The Wicked Queen sent her Huntsman out to kill Snow White, but Snow White escaped. The Huntsman must have been tracking her down this whole time. And when he finally found her … and you … he brought her back to the Wicked Queen.”
“That’s not exactly how I remember it,” May said, her forehead crinkling. “But who knows, my grandmother never let me listen to any of those stories for some reason. Anyway, what was that Great War thing you mentioned?”
Jack paused, forcing himself not to remember certain bad memories. “Basically, the queen of a tiny kingdom invaded all the lands around her, destroying everything she came across. She’d taken over the entire eastern half of the continent before the Western Kingdoms decided to unite against her. Most people say it was Snow White who actually brought us all together to fight the Wicked Queen, as people started calling her. But it didn’t
go well. The kingdoms couldn’t stand up to the Wicked Queen’s armies of goblins, trolls, dragons—pretty much any kind of monster you can imagine. It also didn’t help that the Wicked Queen had her Magic Mirror. It’s hard to win a battle when your enemy knows exactly what you’re planning.”
“Well, yes,” May said.
“But something happened that the Queen somehow didn’t see coming. I guess that’s the limit of the Mirror: If you don’t ask the right question, you’re out of luck. One of the Wicked Queen’s inner circle of knights—people call them her Eyes—one of them betrayed her. This knight supposedly fell in love with Snow White and helped her and a small group of rebels break into the Wicked Queen’s castle. You’ve probably heard of most of them: Rapunzel; Rose Red, who people say was Snow’s sister; the piper and his magical flute; Edward, the cursed prince; and the Wolf King.”
“I thought you said all the animals were gone?” May asked.
“The Wolf King might be gone now too,” Jack said quietly. “The only one of Snow White’s group that anyone’s seen since then is Rapunzel, who is now queen of the Western Kingdoms. We know they succeeded in defeating the Wicked Queen somehow, because all the Queen’s armies dispersed and the Great
War ended. But Snow White, the Wicked Queen, and the rest were never seen or heard from again. That was like twelve years ago now.”
“So,” May said, “if no one’s seen Snow White since, how did she end up in the real world?”
“The real what?” Jack said.
“The real world,” May said. “Where I’m from.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, how did she end up in
Punk
?”
“She must have hidden herself there,” Jack said. “Some stories say that Snow White broke the Queen’s Mirror during their final battle. And when your grandmother was taken, the Huntsman told the little monster things to look for a missing piece of the Mirror.” Jack paused, then slowly turned to look at the necklace hanging around May’s neck.
She noticed his gaze and pulled the golden crown out from under her shirt. “This?” she said. “You don’t really think …
this
is a piece of the Queen’s Magic Mirror?”
“She told you to keep it hidden,” Jack said. “And if it is, that might be all that’s been stopping the Wicked Queen from coming back. If she had a working Mirror, she’d be all-powerful again.” Jack swallowed hard. “Which means the only thing keeping the Wicked Queen from taking over the entire world is that necklace.”
May shot him a dark look. “Well, at least you’re not being overly dramatic.” Despite her sarcasm, she shuddered and slipped the necklace back under her shirt. “I’m not willing to say you’re right, but I guess you could be close to somehow being
almost
right. Either way, sounds like we’re going to need that help my grandmother mentioned in her note, huh?”
“Sounds like,” Jack agreed. “Only, let’s find it in the morning.” He laid down a little more, with his head against the tree, exhaustion suddenly smacking him in the face.
May did the same, and pretty soon their eyelids were drooping.
“I have to warn you,” Jack said quietly. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”
“Good at what sort of thing?” May asked, opening one eye slightly.
“Well,” Jack said, “if your grandmother
is
Snow White, then you really are a princess.”
“Ha,” May said drowsily. “That a problem for you?”
“A bit,” Jack admitted. “I can’t stand royalty.”
May laughed softly. Jack smiled too, taking one last look at May as the princess fell asleep. She really was cute, all things considered. And she didn’t act like princesses in stories did—all
useless and vulnerable and needing rescuing. Maybe some royals weren’t actually that different from the rest of the world.
He stopped himself there—his sleepiness must have been messing with his head. May was the granddaughter of Snow White, a member of one of the oldest royal families in existence. And she’d grown up in the lap of luxury, with more wealth than he could even imagine. She was as royal as they came, and therefore was nothing like him.
Wouldn’t it be funny if she were, though?
The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was tiny, high-pitched laughing from all around him.
Apparently, someone else thought it was funny too.
Jack woke up from nightmares of a man in green to find that the forest he’d fallen asleep in was gone. Instead of leaves above him, now there were pink and white tiles, and whatever he was lying on was smooth, unlike the rough forest floor.
He started to sit up, but something held him firmly in place. Hard ropes of some kind covered his chest and legs.
Well,
that
probably wasn’t good news.
“Hello?” Jack said, looking around as much as he could while being held in place. A massive headache pounded the sides of his skull, and for some reason, his feet were really warm. “Huntsman?” he asked more quietly, a little afraid of the answer.
“You’re awake, darling,”
said a woman in a raspy voice. The speaker leaned over his head so that Jack could see her face … except there was no face to see. Instead, a black hooded robe covered what looked to be a smooth white orb, almost like an egg.
And then the egg cracked across the center, splitting jaggedly in half in what seemed to be a horrifying mouth. “My children found you in the forest and were growing ever so hungry!” the faceless woman said. “I almost let them eat you whole, there on the ground, I did. But that wouldn’t do, darling, no. My children deserve a home-cooked meal, they do indeed.”
And just like that, the situation plummeted past bad and headed for can’t-get-much-worse. Despite his pounding heart and the sudden sweat all over his body, Jack took a deep breath, knowing nothing would be helped by panic—at least not until he could run screaming. “Who are you?” he asked, slowly flexing every part of his body to see how strong his bindings were. He felt a little give in the ropes around his legs, but not much.
“I’m No-One-in-Particular,” the woman said with a small giggle, the crack in the eggshell giving the impression of sharp teeth.
“You’re a witch,” Jack said, recognizing her nonanswer. “So you’re not going to tell me your real name?”
“Names have power, darling,” the witch said, stepping out of Jack’s vision. For a second, he wasn’t sure where she was, but then he heard her down near his feet. “Yes, they do, don’t they, Jack?”
Uh-oh. “My name’s not Jack,” he said. “Who told you that?”
The witch cackled, still out of his sight. “The girl, of course, darling. The one who said your name while she slumbered! Quite a tasty treat there, darling.”
At that, Jack abruptly stopped sweating as his insides froze up. “What did you do to her?” he said quietly, barely able to hear his own voice over his heartbeat.
The witch put a hand on his leg, and where she touched him, his skin went numb. “Don’t you worry about her, darling, yes. She’s quite safe, she is. Recognized her necklace, I did, and that one’s worth more alive than in my stomach, yes. But you, darling, you’re another tale altogether, yes. You’re to go in the oven, for dinner. Then we’ll see if we can’t trade your friend to the Wicked Queen for some dessert.”
And then something sharp pressed into his skin next to the witch’s hand. Jack bit his lip to keep from yelling out in pain, only there wasn’t any. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be cutting him, only his pants. “Don’t fret, darling,” the witch said. “I’m
just removing your clothing skin … gives such a burnt flavor if you leave it on, darling.”
The witch brought the sharp object down again and sliced.
The feeling of sharp metal on his skin sent Jack into a terrified frenzy, and he frantically kicked out with both legs. He missed at first, but a second kick managed to knock the witch’s hand away slightly, sending the sharp metal in her hand right into the rope tying Jack down.
Suddenly, he was free, as cutting the rope on his legs had loosened the rest of his bindings. Jack quickly pushed himself up enough to see the witch, then launched his foot right at the witch’s eggshell face.
The kick connected, knocking the witch backward off her feet. Jack quickly pulled the rest of the strangely sticky ropes off himself, then threw his legs over the side of the table, noticing for the first time why his feet had been so warm. Only a few inches from his toes was the most enormous black metal oven he’d ever seen.
And then a gnarled claw sunk into the table next to him.
“Oh no, darling,” said the witch, her white head rising up over the side of the table. His kick had knocked the witch’s hood off, because beneath it …
Beneath it was nothing at all. The white orb that made up her head didn’t go past the halfway point, like someone had broken the eggshell in two. The back was completely hollow.
And not only was her head empty, she now had an indentation in the shell where he’d kicked her. As Jack watched with horror, the dent slowly pushed back out with a nauseating pop.
“You mustn’t struggle, darling,” the witch said, shuddering to her feet as she pulled her hood back on. “That won’t do at all, not at all. You’ll make your meat all tough, yes you will, and—”
Jack kicked her again, but this time, her gnarled old hand came out of nowhere to catch his foot. She held it in place for a second, then cruelly twisted it, sending a lightning bolt of pain all the way up to his waist.
“It’s rude to interrupt, darling,” the empty face said. The witch yanked upward on his leg, pulling Jack up and off the table, dangling him in midair. “I intend to crack these little bones,” the witch said in a delighted tone. “Yes I do. There are such tasty flavors in your little bones, darling, and they’re just going to waste.”
Jack kicked out desperately, trying to free himself from her grip, but the witch just held on tighter, her claws cutting into his skin. Giving up on his legs, Jack groped around on the strangely
sticky floor for something to hit her with, but there was nothing within reach.
The witch yanked the oven door open, and the heat from inside exploded over both of them. The witch bent to look Jack right in the face as he swung helplessly over the floor. “Thank you, darling,” she said, drool dripping out of the crack that was her mouth. “Thank you for letting me eat you.”
As Jack stared in horror, her mouth began to close in on his leg, as if she was going to take a bite out of him right then and there. He punched her with both hands, but his blows just sank into her robes as if there was no body to hit. As the witch’s faceless head got closer, a flickering tongue pushed past the cracked mouth, licking the edges in anticipation as she closed in.