Once Upon the End (Half Upon a Time) (14 page)

CHAPTER 27

T
he Wicked Queen pulled the sword out of her heart and handed it to May with just a trace of sadness. “You weren’t the first to try that.”

The sword dropped from May’s hand as she struggled to speak. “But . . . you . . . no!”

“There’s nothing there to hurt, May,” the Queen said. “It hasn’t always been such. At one point, I was much like you, of course. So much like you.” She reached a hand out to touch May’s cheek, but May shuddered and pulled away.

The Queen narrowed her eyes, and grabbed May’s chin, pulling her toward her, electricity playing between her fingers. “I could kill you now,” she said, her voice now quieter. “I could do it, don’t you see? The part of me that held me back before, that part died in the other world. Magic is weak there, if it exists, and dies away quickly. So there. . . .” She moved, and her shadow moved a fraction of a second later, as if it weren’t just an absence of light but a second figure. “There, these shadows that haunt me could not live forever. And neither could I.”

“You didn’t feel anything,” May said, every word a struggle against the Queen’s grasp on her jaw. “You
never
loved me!”

The Queen’s eyes flashed like a lightning bolt, and she raised a hand to slap May, her face a grotesque mask of hatred. But she paused, then lowered her hand.

“Perhaps I should share . . . a story,” she said, and gestured. The room morphed around them, and May found herself in a chamber that seemed to extend higher than the sky, all four walls completely covered with books. A table in front of her could barely be seen under stacks of books four or five high, with titles like
Thrilling Tales of Science
and
The Myths and Stories of the Norsemen.

The Queen pointed, and May turned to find a book resting on a pedestal, its cover blackened and charred as if it’d been on fire yet somehow survived.

The Queen gestured at the book, then stepped away, her back to May. May rubbed her aching jaw, then, not knowing what else to do, she stepped over to the book and pulled open the enormous cover, wondering if it would fall apart in her fingers.

Instead, it felt as solid as a brand-new book. Inside was a beautiful painting, a watercolor picture of a girl with black hair and a joyful smile, holding an armful of apples.

Once upon a time, Princess Eudora lived happily with her king father and queen mother, the perfect family, content in every way. If the princess had a flaw, and many would argue that she did not, it would be that she was a trifle vain and believed herself to be the most beautiful girl to ever live.

Yet even with a dash of arrogance, Eudora was good and kind and loving, treating any and all equally and justly, even her uncle, who was jealous that the princess would take over the kingdom instead of he himself.

The next page showed a painting of the princess sitting by a well in a courtyard, singing with some birds, while a man dressed in black watched from above, his expression clearly not loving.

The man looked . . . familiar. Black hair and a gaunt face. Where had she seen that?

For a while, the princess lived happily, unaware of her uncle’s plot against her. But then her parents were called away to visit another kingdom, and she was left alone with the man. And her uncle wasted no time.

The painting here showed Eudora’s uncle grabbing the princess from behind and stabbing her in the heart.

The court magician, desperate to save the girl, tried everything he could. No medicine, no herb, no magic he knew of could keep the girl alive. So, despite his reservations, the man turned to the shadows to save his princess.

This time, the girl lay on what looked like a funeral pyre while a river of shadows flew into the spot where her heart was.

Her heart was just a step away from death, so the shadows healed it so that it might beat forever, then removed it from her body and hid it away in a wooden box, filling her chest with their evil. That evil kept her alive, but turned her into a shadow of her former self.

The girl stood over the magician, who cowered in terror from her. One of her hands was raised, and blue lightning played through her fingers in a very familiar way.

Her uncle, upon learning she still lived, tried again to murder her, but without a heart in her body, Eudora could not be hurt. And the heart in the box had its own protection: The shadows had placed a cruel curse upon it.

Now the princess stood behind her uncle, who frantically attacked the girl, desperate to somehow kill the monster he’d unknowingly created.

Indeed, the princess’s heart was now safe, but for the very thing that had hurt her in the first place . . .

May turned the page, but the rest of the book had been ripped out. She put it back down on the floor, only to have it disappear in a sizzle of lightning.

“I apologize for the abrupt ending,” the Queen said from behind her. “But the story revealed a bit too much. You’d be surprised how much power it took just to destroy those pages.” She smiled mockingly. “The shadow’s curse is less effective when no one knows it but me.”

“So . . . they live in you now?” May asked, pushing herself away as subtly as possible.

“They do in this world,” the Queen told her, her expression completely devoid of any love or joy. “As I said, in the other world they were weakened and dying. I would not have lived much longer, in fact. But . . . I was much like my old self, from before my treacherous uncle decided to murder me.”

And despite herself, despite the stories, despite the cruelty and hatred and horribleness, May actually felt something other than fear of the woman. “Maybe there’s a way to cure you,” she said quietly.

The Queen smiled just a bit. “If there was, it has been lost to the ages. I myself don’t have the power, and I am the most powerful magic-user still alive in this world. I know, for I killed any more powerful than myself early on.”

“The fairy queens—”

“They would kill me as soon as cure me, but even they’d find that practically impossible. Not without the knowledge of the curse.”

“The missing pages,” May said.

The Queen smiled again. “There are those who knew, of course. Malevolent figured it out before she betrayed me. That was why I had to take the Mirror from her: She knew far too much. Of course, it turned into quite the benefit on its own, but I’ve found ways to make do without it.”

Malevolent knew? If that was true, then the Queen’s secrets had died with the fairy queen. But what, then, was the Fairest supposed to have done . . . ?

“And Snow White . . . she found out as well, as the Mirror warned me she would,” the Queen said. “I sometimes wonder if she would have bothered if I hadn’t ordered my stepdaughter’s death in the first place. Again, that was my weakness. I could not do the deed myself, as too much of my former self still lived. Sometimes we fulfill our own prophecies, I suppose.”

“Snow White knew?” May said.

“Not that she can tell,” the Queen said with a smile. “She will never awaken from my poison. The one cure for that died long ago.”

“The Charmed One,” May said, and suddenly things began to fall into place.

The Queen gestured again, and the library disappeared, replaced by a smaller room with maps all over the walls and tables. On the right side of the map (she would have said east, but who knew in this world what direction was what) were the occupied lands, with little statues of goblins, ogres, trolls, and other assorted monsters representing the Queen’s armies, all staked out around the lands.

On the other side were the free kingdoms, and May recognized a few different places: Giant’s Hand, the village she’d first appeared in; the Black Forest, where they’d found the Wolf King; Phillip’s kingdom, which they’d visited shortly after releasing the Queen from the Palace of the Snow Queen; Bluebeard’s kingdom on the shore; even Malevolent’s castle. But there were far more kingdoms that she’d never seen and probably wouldn’t ever at this point. And all those kingdoms had little figurines of men and women with swords, apparently representing the armies of those who remained.

“What do you see?” the Queen asked her.

May looked at the map, then at the Queen. “A bunch of toys. Why, did you want me to play too?”

The Queen smiled. “Be my guest.”

May carefully chose a few human figures with swords, then smashed them into the castle marked Capitol, the Queen’s kingdom. She swept away all the monster figurines with her arm, then knocked the entire table over.

A moment later, everything was just as it was and May slammed into the castle wall hard enough to knock the breath out of her.

“Let me show you what
I
intend,” the Queen told her, lightning playing in her eyes. She gestured, and tiny portals opened over every goblin, ogre, troll, and monster figurine. Each one disappeared, then popped back into existence all over the map. No, not
all
over . . . in the free kingdoms.

Within the city and castle walls.

“It honestly isn’t very complicated,” the Queen told her. “The fairy queens are the only ones who could have stopped me from using magic to invade every single free kingdom at once. But my little Eye’s last task for me ensured that the fairy queens won’t be a concern, no matter how hard you worked to save them.”

“What . . . do you mean?” May said, gasping for air. Whatever held her up on the wall also made it difficult to breathe.

“Fairy queens use music to perform their magic,” the Queen told her. “Always seemed like a weakness to me. After all, it doesn’t take much to throw a song off harmony.”

“That . . . harp thing?” May said.

The Queen nodded. “Not the most powerful magic, I’ll grant you. But sometimes a pebble is enough to start an avalanche. And as soon as the fairy queens try to stop me, I’ll turn their music into something they never imagined.”

The kingdoms on the left side of the map burst into flame, one by one. May thought she could even hear screams coming from the map, and cries of victory by the various monsters.

And the biggest monster of all just smiled. “You see what is to come. But I am not without consideration for what you once meant to me. Join me, May. Join me and rule this world as my heir, the future queen. You think you’ve known these people all your life through the stories you were told as a child. But those stories
lied
, May.” She made a fist. “Snow White does
not
come back to life. The Wicked Queen does
not
die. And
Cinderella . . .
I offer her an entire world instead of a prince.”

“And what . . . if I say . . . no?”

The Queen frowned. “Then you will be made into a lesson and put to death for all the world to see as I invade the remaining kingdoms in seven days’ time.”

“Why wait?” May gasped. “Why not just do it now?”

The Queen gave her a curious look. “I can’t reveal
all
my secrets, can I? Let us just say that Phillip isn’t quite through helping me yet.”

“They’ll fight back,” May said, the room starting to swim before her eyes. “The people . . . they’ll fight. They’ll . . . beat you. Evil always . . . loses to good!”

The Queen laughed. “Oh, my darling May. You’ve read
far
too many fairy tales.”

CHAPTER 28

T
he metal beast roared to a stop, screeching its feet with a high-pitched squeal that rivaled its scream. And then, terrifyingly, a person poked their head
out the side of the monster
and shouted at Jack.

“What are you doing?” the apparently half-eaten person screamed. “Get out of the road!”

Something yanked Jack to his feet and out of the path of the metal beast. Horribly, the beast’s translucent upper body revealed that it hadn’t just eaten the one angry man, but a confused woman as well. Anger and confusion both seemed pretty legitimate feelings for having been eaten, so Jack forgave the yelling, wondering if he should try to help them escape, considering they hadn’t been digested yet.

A woman pulled him from the stone road and onto another, less wide and differently colored stone road on the side, where a growing mob of people watched.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked him, holding his shoulders and staring into his face. “Did you get hit?”

Jack shook his head. “No, I’m okay.” The metal beast that had attacked him had wandered away, and he noticed for the first time that the entire road was full of meandering metal beasts, all full of humans being digested.

Odd.

“You look so pale, though,” the woman said, frowning in worry.

“Oh, I was dead a few hours ago,” Jack told her. “Or pretty close. It’s been a strange day.”

“Call 911,” the woman told a short, pudgy man in black clothes with thin white stripes. “I think he’s delirious.” She pointed at his armor. “Maybe he wandered away from a Renaissance Faire. Probably got hit in the head with a mace or something.”

The man in the black clothes with thin white stripes pulled a small card out and began to push at it with a pudgy finger. The card made odd noises, and the man lifted it to his ear and began talking softly. Maybe the card was numbered 911 of a thousand? “I really am fine,” Jack said, “but I could use some help. I’m looking for a girl named May. I’m not entirely sure where I am. Or where she is.”

“What’s her name?” the woman asked, turning Jack’s head back toward her.

“. . . May,” he said for the second time.

“I mean her last name.”

“Her last name? She’s only had one as far as I know. Do you switch names a lot here?”

“No, her second name, her last . . . May
what
?”

“May, a girl I know,” Jack said, getting irritated with this whole thing.

“I give up,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him to some nearby grass. “Just have a seat. The cops will be here soon, and they’ll figure things out.”

Jack reluctantly sat down on the grass, not sure what cops were, but hoping they’d at the very least not make him repeat names over and over.

A black and white metal beast with crazy red eyes on its back came running down the street, screaming its high-pitched squeal, then screeched to a stop right in front of Jack. A man and woman dressed entirely in black
opened the beast up
—which practically turned Jack’s stomach—then closed it again and walked over.

“What happened here?” the woman in black said.

“I think he’s from a Renaissance Faire,” the woman said. “He almost got hit by a car. Something’s wrong with his head.”

“Are you okay?” the man in black asked.

“I’m from another world,” Jack told them. “My clothes look a little odd to you, I guess. But I’m just looking for a friend of mine. Her name’s May. Can you help me find her?”

The man in black looked at the woman in black, and a moment later, Jack found himself being shoved into the metal beast’s stomach. Surprisingly comfortable as it was, he waited for the two “cops” to walk away, then tried to open the beast back up and run, only he couldn’t figure out how.

“We’re going to take you to the hospital and call your parents,” the woman in black told him as she opened a separate part of the monster. “What’s your name?”

“Jack,” he told her.

“Last name?”

“It’s always been Jack.”

She turned and looked at him. “LAST. NAME?”

Okay, seriously, was this some kind of horrible torture?

And then he remembered something May had said once, something that he hadn’t even thought about at the time, but now—

“Winterborne,” he said. “That’s my, uh, last name.” She’d called her grandmother Eudora Winterborne. Two names.

“What’s your address?”

“I, um, can’t remember, I’m too delirious.”

The woman glared at him again, but pushed on something toward the front of the monster that had letters on it, like the monster had swallowed a book. “I’ve got a
Eudora
Winterborne—”

“That’s HER!” Jack yelled. “That’s my, uh, grandmother. She’s taking care of me.”

“Those Renaissance Faires can be nasty business,” the woman in black told the man in black. “Kid probably got smacked in the head with a mace.”

The monster ran on, as other metal creatures ran out in front and behind it, each one with at least one person inside it, slowly digesting. At least Jack knew that he could survive it as long as he got out quickly enough. He shifted back and forth, trying to keep anything from eating away at him while he waited for them to reach wherever it was that the cops were taking him.

As it turned out, it was to a large white building with giant white metal monsters waiting in front of it.

“Your grandmother isn’t home,” the woman said, dropping a small card like the pudgy man had talked into. “It isn’t far, though . . . just over on Hough Street.” Jack repeated the strange name to himself as she and the man opened the monster and stepped out, then opened the creature for Jack to get out too.

“What are you doing out of school, anyway?” the man in black asked him.

School. Would that be where May was now?

“I escaped,” Jack told him. “You should take me back. It’s only fair. I need to be punished, and I’m sure the school wants to do it.”

The man looked at him oddly. “Maybe after we make sure you’re healthy.”

Two men in white came out and led Jack inside.

And that’s when the torture began. Men and women in white asked him insane questions, stuck him with impossibly long and fat needles, and forced him through all sorts of demeaning and, frankly, pretty chilly tests.

Two hours later, Jack ran through the front doors, his armor in a bag on his back, wearing a T-shirt that said
cook county hospital
; a pair of extremely baggy blue pants, tied at the waist; and new shoes that had belonged to someone named “Donation,” apparently.

Odd names, here in Punk.

Behind him, the men and women in white screamed his name and ran after him, but he didn’t stop. The man and woman in black had left, which was good . . . he couldn’t take another nauseating ride in a metal monster.

Instead, he ran off in the general direction an unsuspecting nurse had pointed when he’d asked for the nearest school. May would be there, and if not . . . there was always Hough Street.

Either way, he had one last thing to steal.