Little Red Cinderella and the Three Beanstalks

“It's nothing personal,” I squeaked. I couldn't help it, my voice was high and tight with fear. Yours would be too if you were overcome by the sudden sense of impending doom that seemed to fall over the room.

“Oh, I think it is,” the Queen replied, tilting her head to the side ever so slightly. She looked at us with eyes as shallow and flat as glass, and the only expression that flickered over her porcelain features was mild annoyance. “You little beasts have been trying to ruin everything,” she went on. “You are here for my step daughter, you are here with an army, you are here to dethrone me from my rightful place as Queen. You have besieged my castle. You have stolen my Huntsman from me. You are meddling in the affairs of me and my family, it is none of your business what I do with Snow White. I will give you one chance. One chance to think about this very, very carefully. You do not want to try to pit yourselves against my power, I will win. My guards have no doubt almost quelled your pathetic army, and if you press me to personally join this fight, I assure you, it will be over before your men even know they are dead.”

“Well, someone certainly thinks highly of herself,” I said, but only loud enough for Ezu to hear me. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Rikki, if there is a worse possible time to start getting lippy, I can't think of one. Can you try to reign it in for once?”

“Well excuse me for coping, Mr. Sulky-Pants!”

“We are not doing this right now.”

The Queen looked from us, to the head of her guard, and back again, in vague disbelief.

“Are you ignoring me?” she asked, as if she couldn't really accept that that might be a possibility.

“Look, your, er, highness,” I said loudly, figuring it was best to be polite given the circumstances, but I still raised my short sword warningly, pointing its gleaming tip at her. “You're right. We are here for the princess. We, specifically, as in he and I,” I added, gesturing to Ezu with the sword, “aren't here for your throne. The army we brought with us are, but that is an entirely separate issue. I'm sure you guys can hash that out between yourselves. But the release of Snow White is non-negotiable. So what's it going to be, lady? Will you let her go, or are we going to have to stop you ourselves?”

It felt like a very brave speech while I was giving it. I was quaking in my boots, but I felt like the bravado I showed was admirable, and I kept the quiver out of my voice.

No one else agreed with me, apparently. Ezu just groaned, as if I had personally signed out death sentences. A couple of the guards gathered, who had until then shown not a flicker of emotion, snickered as subtly as they could. The Queen didn't bother being subtle about it at all. She laughed, a single high, shrill giggle.

“What? You? You are going to challenge me?” she laughed, tickled pink by my outrageous claim. “And how exactly do you expect to do that?”

And... she had a point there. It was just Ezu, myself, and the huntsman, against fifty trains armsmen, and an evil sorceress. I had to admit, the odds weren't in our favor.

“No, I will,” Ezu announced, breaking the silence while I scrambled for a reply.

“Ezu!” I hissed, shocked.

“Just let me do this,” he snapped back, without looking over his shoulder at me. “I'll fight you, and if I win, you'll release the princess, and my friends, or I'll do it myself, and kill you if you try to stop me.”

The Queen just smiled at him, like an angel looking down on a poor, stupid mortal. “No,” she said.

“What? Why not?” he demanded, his pride and temper flaring and flourishing his own sword at her.

“I don't want you,” she replied, and then suddenly she was at his side. The move happened so fast, we didn't even see it. She just crossed fifty feet of space in a single instant, and the next thing either of us knew, she was standing beside Ezu, one hand wrapped about his own, the one that clutched the hilt of his sword, and the other gently stroking the side of his face with one slender finger. He gasped and tried to jerk away, but she held him fast, in a grip of iron. She was taller than him, and seemed to bear down upon him.

“You aren't a bad specimen of a man,” she cooed at him. “You're rough, and unattractive, but you're brave, and strong, strong enough to get this far. But,” she sighed, and shoved Ezu roughly away from her. He stumbled backwards, barely keeping his feet. “You bore me. I don't care for you.”

And then she was behind me, one pale hand wrapped gently around my throat, her nails digging into my skin like claws. “But you; you make me laugh, you ugly little thing,” she whispered in my ear. Her grip tightened, and I gave a sharp intake of breath as blood welled up in the scratches she left across my neck. “You challenged me. I accept.” She strode away, in a whirl of silks, and returned to her throne. “But I am a queen. I cannot fight for myself. You see how that would be improper. Instead my head guard will fight in my place. You and he shall do battle, and if you are victorious in slaying him, I shall grant your request. Do you accept my terms?” She rested her elbow on the arm of her throne, and put her chin in her hands, waiting expectantly for my answer.

“Rikki, no,” Ezu said immediately, whirling around to face me. “You'll be killed.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You've never fought anyone before! You've handled that sword, what, half a dozen times? Don't be stupid, it's suicide!”

“What choice do I have?” I pointed out, angrily.

“I don't know,” he spun around to face the Queen again. “What other choices does she have?”

“She fights with the Captain of the Guard, or I kill you all, here and now,” she replied sweetly.

“Ah.” He turned back to me. “Well... I still can't let you do this. You'll die, either way. At least if you refuse, I might be able to protect you long enough for you to find a way to escape.”

“And let you die instead?” I said, incredulously. “I can't believe you think I'd let that happen! This is my fight, Ezu. You remember what that fortune teller said. You and Jack, you're just here to back me up. When it comes down to it, this is my fight, and I can't let you always play my part for me. I'm not going to lie, I'm terrified. I don't think I can do this. But don't you understand? I have to. This is the story, Ezu.”

“You and your stupid story!” he shouted, taking everyone gathered by surprise. He strode over to me and grabbed me hard by my shoulders, staring me dead in the eyes. “Does this look like a story to you? Does this feel like a story? Am I just some character, made up words on a page? Do you think I just stop existing when someone closes the book? This is real life, Rikki, in one way or another. And in real life, things don't always end up happily ever after, just because you think they should, just because you did the right thing, because you said the right line at the right time! You could really die, and then what, huh? Then what happens?”

I didn't have an answer. I gently shrugged him off, meeting his furious gaze with a sad one of my own.

“Then you and Jack keep fighting. But until then, I have to do what I think is right. If I'm going to die anyways, I at least want to do it knowing I did everything I could to set things right.” I took him by the hand, and squeezed it gently, just once, before letting it fall. He watched me, uncomprehending, as I walked past him, down the red carpet and up to the base of the Queen's throne.

“I accept your challenge,” I told her, in the strongest voice I could muster. The Queen's face split into a smile like the blade of a knife.

“Oh, I do love to be entertained,” she purred. She beckoned with one long finger at the soldier standing closest to her throne. “Come forward, Jameson. You have some vermin to exterminate.”

“Your Majesty, with all due respect,” he said, taking a few tentative steps forward, “This seems unnecessary. She is a child, she is no threat. My men can easily subdue her and the boy, take them prisoner. There is no need for this-”

The Queen gave him a look that could have curdled his blood.

“Do you defy my word? My word is law, Jameson. I thought you of all people knew that.”

“No, of course not, your Majesty,” he stammered quickly.

“Don't forget that little pig Snow White. We all know what damage a mere child can do. Now do as I bid, and kill the girl,” she ordered, her expression twisting into a mask of ugly hatred.

The Captain of the Guard, Jameson, unhappily drew his sword, turning to face me.

“I am sorry,” he said, quietly.

“Me too,” I replied, not sure what else I could possibly say. My heart was pounding, beating in my chest faster than a hummingbird's wings. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, and my arms felt strangely numb as I raised my own sword. I suddenly realized I didn't know quite how to hold it properly, it still felt awkward and unwieldy in my hands.

“No!” Ezu cried, rushing forwards, but half a dozen guards grabbed him and dragged him back before he could make it ten steps. The Huntsman roared, but he too was forced up against the wall at spear point, more than twenty men now surrounding him and doing their best to keep the beast at bay, not afraid to draw blood painfully when he threatened to try to break their ranks.

“Begin,” the Queen commanded, her eyes flashing with excitement.

Jameson came at me, and our swords clashed once, hard enough to jar my arms and sending me stumbling back. But it was a hit made without aggression, without conviction from him. He swung slow enough for me to easily parry the blow, and though I could immediately feel the huge discrepancy between our strength, I also knew that it was only a fraction of his.

He swung again, a wide, low cut aimed at my torso, and I jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding it and smacked his blade away with my own. Another swing, another parry by me, all crude and slow and weak. He was testing me, or letting me test myself. I appreciated the sentiment, but I wished he wouldn't. With every clumsy swing of my sword and failing of my strength against his, I was growing more and more frightened, more and more unsure of my choice. If he had only come at me with all his might at first, I at least would have been forced to defend my life on instinct, as hard and fast as I could without having to think about how uneven the stakes were.

I couldn't doubt myself, not now. That would only get me killed.

When Jameson paused, just for a moment, still warily testing my metal, I took the chance to throw caution to the wind and launch myself at him, suddenly the attacker instead of just defending myself against his blows.

I jabbed wildly, thrusting my sword out and forcing him to hit it away at the last moment, taken by surprise at my sudden action. I threw myself into an all out assault, swiping the blade of my sword at him every way I could think of, abysmally off mark most of the time and leaving myself wide open to counter attacks with every wide and clumsy swing. All Jameson did was parry my blows though, moving steady backwards as I pushed on, his expression grim and his hand steady, but as impassionately as he had attacked me.

I almost screamed with frustration—I think I would have rather he just ran me through and got it over with, rather than drag it out, forcing me to realize how weak I was and what a mistake I had made before finally finishing me off.

The entire time, Ezu was shouting at me from the sidelines, where he was being forcibly restrained by a pair of guards, though he ceaselessly struggled against their grips.

“Duck! Duck lower, dodge, you idiot! You're swinging too wide, don't leave yourself open! No, get out of the way! Parry, parry! Dammit, Rikki!” he screamed, unable to tear his eyes away from the fight, even though he couldn't bear watching.

I tried following his advice, but I always reacted too slow, and I was steadily losing strength as my arms grew tired, my sword was so heavy. But Jameson wasn't eager to kill a young girl. He wasn't taking advantage of my clumsy attacks and my weak defenses. He slowed his pace with mine, until it just looked like a pathetic, mocking farce; with me panting and stabbing wildly, him effortlessly knocking my blade away and then just standing there, motionless, until I came at him again. If I hadn't been fighting under the threat of my life, I would have been humiliated. As it was, I was too full of looming desperation to feel much else just then.

And then, somehow, I got lucky.

I jabbed, thrusting my sword towards the guard, knowing it would yield nothing. He knocked my sword aside, upwards, but as he did I was trying to draw it down. I jerked against the smack of the blades, and my sword bounced in the air before slicing back down, swiftly and unexpectedly as I tried to regain control of it. It sliced across Jameson's face, he hadn't bothered stepping aside, he hadn't expected it to come near him, and his cheek was burst open, blood exploding from his face in a crimson tidal wave.

He gasped in shock and stumbled backwards, and at the sight of the blood I couldn't help but cry out in alarm and recoil, my bloodied sword clattering to the floor. I don't know why I was so horrified by the sight, I objectively knew that the point of this one-sided battle was a fight to death, but when I actually made contact with the man, the realization of what that meant hit me like a tidal wave.

I couldn't kill somebody, I couldn't run a man through with a sword, even if I possessed the physical strength to do so. I had hurt him, I cut his face more on accident than by design, and guilt and fear and shock were all I was given in return.

Jameson was as surprised as I was, and pressed his gloved hand against the gushing wound. The Queen had cried out when it happened as well, but hers was one of excitement. But then I dropped my sword, her expression crumbled back into one of boredom, and she flicked her index finger at me.

My feet went out from under me as if they had been caught in a snare, and I fell painfully on my back into the hard marble floor, my breath knocked out of my lungs and the back of my head smacking against the stone hard enough to send blackness blossoming across my vision.

Ezu shouted something angrily, but I couldn't hear him, my ears were ringing from the smack to my head. I gasped like a fish out of water, trying to draw air into my empty lungs, and blinking furiously as my vision slowly returned.

“Well, that was a disappointment,” the Queen was saying, pouting her pretty lips like a displeased toddler.

“What are you doing?” Ezu screamed at her.

“She dropped her weapon. That's a forfeit,” the Queen said, shrugging disinterestedly.

“It was an accident! She didn't give up!”

“You think next time she will have no trouble dealing a finishing blow?” the Queen asked him, a knowing smile playing across her mouth. Ezu didn't respond. He knew I wouldn't be able to kill anyone in cold blood, not like that. He knew it when I was still trying to deny it to myself. Perhaps I should have listened to him.

“Finish her off, Jameson,” the Queen ordered. “I'm bored with this game, end it quickly.”

“Your Majesty, is it really necessary-” he began, reluctant even still, the blood dripping into his short beard and down his neck.

As an answer, the Queen made a quick motion with her fingers once again, and Jameson was suddenly dragged as if by the point of his sword across the marble floor, crying out in surprise but unable to release his grip from the weapon's hilt, until it was pressed against the base of my throat and he was standing over me, his alarmed eyes staring down into my stunned ones.

“Please,” I managed to choke out, barely able to take a full breath to speak with yet.

“I can't... it's not me, her sorcery-” he gasped.

The Queen expression contorted, her lips drawing back from her teeth in a twisted sneer.

“My what?” she snarled, in a deadly whisper.

“My Lady Queen, I-”

“MY WHAT?!” she roared, leaping to her feet and exploding into a rage. “You know nothing of my powers! You're nothing, you worm! Kill her, kill the girl, now!” she screamed.

“No!” shouted Ezu, straining as hard as he could against the men holding him.

My sword was too far away, I couldn't reach it, the best I could do was try to shield my head with my arms.

The Huntsman broke. He unleashed a massive howl, so loud it nearly shook the room on its foundations. He swiped out with one huge, terribly clawed paw, catching four of the men surrounding him and hurtling them across the throne room. The other guards pressed forwards, stabbing out hard at him with their spears, ramming the four inch points deep into his thick fur and flesh, trying to over power him. He roared again, pain mixed with fury, and he grabbed three spears at once when their wielders thrust them, tearing them from the men's hands. He charged the rest, ignoring the spear tips that pierced his skin and broke off, leaving him with a dozen shattered poles of wood jutting out from his body.

“Stop him!” the Queen shrieked, whirling around to see the Huntsman losing control, and decimating her guards. “Kill the beast, put it down!”

Most of the remaining soldiers rushed forwards, including the ones who had been holding Ezu, all drawing their swords. But when the Huntsman grabbed the blade of the first man to near him and wrenched it from his grasp so hard it pulled the guard's arm out of his socket, and then snapped the steel in half as if it were a tooth pick, they turned and scattered.

The Queen screamed, one long, shrill, unbroken note that pierced the air.

“Useless! Useless!” she howled, watching her most elite personal guards scrambling at the invisible barrier blocking the doorway while the Huntsman tore through them like tissue paper.

Then he rounded on her, his eyes black and murderous, and he roared like a wild animal, spittle flying from his red mouth, his fangs glistening, and charged towards her with intent to tear her limb from limb.

She reached out a hand, palm out and fingers spread, and when he towered over her, his ape-like arm swinging upwards to sink his claws up under her rib cage to pierce her heart and lungs, she closed it into a tight fist.

The Huntsman crumpled into a ball, yowling in agony.

Ezu had rushed to my side the moment he was free, and he helped me drag myself to my feet.

“Rikki, are you okay?” he asked in a rush.

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” I assured him, figuring my pounding headache was a small price to pay for my life.

“We have to get out of here,” Ezu insisted, starting to try to drag me away.

“How? Where can we go?” I reminded him. We were trapped.

“Nowhere,” the Queen said, her voice dripping with venom, as she turned to us. “Look at what you have done. Look at what ugliness you brought with you, into my court.” Her face was hardly recognizable anymore, her mouth an angry red slash across her face, her teeth bared like a snarling wolf, her eyes flashing with boiling rage.

Ezu shoved me behind him, shielding me from her with his body, always having to play the hero. “Stay back,” he ordered her, saying it as if he really thought she might obey. His instinct was to brandish my sword, which he had grabbed from the ground beside me, at her, but he had seen what she could make it do against the wielder's will. “If you come any closer, I'll kill you,” he threatened.

She laughed, a sound like broken glass. “You really are quite amusing.” She ran a pink tongue over her teeth, leaving them glistening with saliva, and made a beckoning motion with her finger.

Ezu was dragged as if she had lassoed him away from me, the sword dropping from his hand, until he hurtled against her body, his back pressed against her chest. She wrapped her arms around him, draping herself like a shawl over his shoulders.

“You make me laugh. I need a new pet. That old one won't do anymore. I think I will keep you, my darling,” she purred, and she ran the tip of her tongue across his cheek.

“Get away from him!” I shouted, and tried to run at them, but the Queen made the same motion she had used on the Huntsman, and I collapsed, screaming in agony as I was seized by a wave of pain, as if someone were pressing a hundred red hot pokers against my skin.

“But then, she does seem to very fond of you. And she is quite entertaining. I think it might be more fun to see what she does if I hurt you.”

“I'll fight you,” Ezu spat through clenched teeth, struggling to escape her grip, but he couldn't pry his arms up from his sides. “I'll fight you no matter what you do to me, and I'll kill you if you touch her!”

“Shh, little pet,” she shushed him gently. She raised a pale hand, and as it turned, he saw she held a shiny red apple in it. “It's time to sleep, now.”

I was panting, gasping for breath, and fighting to push myself up onto my knees and elbows. The world was spinning, and I was shuddering with rippling waves of pain, but I saw the Queen standing there, offering the apple to Ezu.

“No, Ezu don't! Leave him alone!” I cried, trying to drag myself towards them, reaching out numbly for my fallen sword, desperately to do something, anything.

“Eat, my sweet thing,” she instructed him. He obeyed. He couldn't not. His mouth opened, and she pressed the cool, smooth skin of the fruit against him teeth. He bit into it, and it was crisp and sweet, and the juice ran down his chin.

“Ezu!” I yelled, but his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the ground in a motionless heap.

The Queen looked down at him, mild amusement playing across her lips.

“That made me feel a bit better,” she said. She looked up at me, a proud cat displaying her kill. “How does it make you feel?”

Tears were streaming down my face, but I hardly noticed them. “You bitch,” I snarled. My hand closed around the still warm hilt of the sword Ezu had just dropped, and I forced myself to my feet, with every intent to skewer the horrible woman on the end of it. But when I ran at her, she only sent the weapon flying out of my grasp, and the next thing I knew she had me by my throat, lifting me a foot and a half into the air, my feet dangling over Ezu's body.

I choked and gasped, clawing at her hand, but through my raking fingernails drew dark blood, she only laughed at my efforts.

“You are endlessly amusing! It's like watching a stupid child trying again and again to force the square block through a round hole!” Still holding me aloft by the neck, she strode across the room, past her terrified guards who still huddled in the door way, ignoring the heap of fur that was the groaning and trembling huntsman. She walked up beside her throne, and turned to look into the gilded mirror that hung on the wall there. She turned me slightly, so we could both look into its reflection. I saw myself, my eyes bulging from my head, my face turning purple as I fought for air, kicking and struggling uselessly against her inhuman strength.

“Look at that,” she said, sweetly. “Look at the difference between you and me. You, so small and ugly and ratted, beside myself, a shining Queen, a goddess amongst mortals.” She caressed her own face with her free hand, her eyes locked with her reflection's. “I want you to look at yourself, to see you as you are, one last time. You won't remember your own face after I fix you, which will be a blessing. Maybe you'll remember the face of your friend back there. I hope you do. I would enjoy it immensely if you did.”

I could have killed her, I really could have. I took back what I said about not being able to do it, I knew that if someone put a gun in my hand right then, I wouldn't have hesitated. But instead, all I could do was thrash in her grasp, as the edges of my vision slowly started to go black.

“I am not going to kill you. I'm going to change you, make you better. You'll be my special pet, like the Huntsman was. Trust me, you'll like your new face much better. And you'll get to enjoy looking at my own every day.” She sighed dreamily, and tucked a loose coil of raven hair behind her ear.

I would have rather died, and in that moment, it looked as though I might. The Queen was enraptured by her own reflection, staring unblinkingly at it and basking in her own beauty, while I drifted closer and closer to unconsciousness, my struggles becoming weaker as the oxygen was leeched from my brain and blood.

But then, something massive rippled through the castle's foundation, shaking the room and sending rock dust from the ceiling raining down on us. It was as if an earthquake had suddenly rocked the castle, but it lasted only for a few seconds. The Queen dropped me, completely surprised. I hit the ground hard and she whirled around, caught somewhere between confusion and anger.

“What was that?” she barked, but her quaking guards could not answer her. I knew, though. Or at least hoped I did.

I took three great, heaving breaths, just enough fill my lungs enough to shout a few words at the top of my lungs, words that I knew so well I could recall them even though my thoughts were a haze of confusion.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them all!” I cried.

“What?!” the Queen screaming, rounding on me.

The surface of the mirror rippled, darkened, and changed, no longer reflecting the room we were in.

At first it showed nothing but patchy greyness, but in a few moments the smoke and dust cleared, and showed a gaping hole in a stone wall, through which several people climbed through, all coughing and covering their eyes and mouths from the smoke.

Jack was clutching the book tightly to his chest, and he pointed, saying something that we couldn't hear. The Prince and the Dwarves hurried forwards, surrounding a block of obsidian, about the size of a coffin, laying in the center of the empty dungeon room. The Prince waved over the other soldiers he had brought with him, and between seven of them they managed to force the lid of the coffin off.

“No!” the Queen shrieked, with dawning horror as she realized what she was watching. “No, no no no!”

Jack was talking again, his mouth moving soundlessly, and looking inside the book, instructing the Prince. He leaned down, into the coffin, and did something we couldn't see. A moment later he rose back up and waited, the tension of the moment written all over his face.

“You can't! It's not fair!” the Queen was screaming, rushing forwards and pounding the glass of the mirror with her fists. “Stop it, stop it!”

But the scene continued to play, and a moment later, a figure rose from the obsidian block.

It was like watching the dawn rising, and the sight of the confused, beautiful girl sent many of the Prince's soldiers dropping to their knees, and all the Dwarves, except Frank of course who only sniffled a little bit, burst into tears and tried to climb into the coffin with her, to embrace her in seven tiny hugs.

“Nooo!” the Queen bellowed in a banshee wail.

Then something insane happened.

The surface of the mirror began to bulge, as it it were boiling like water, great silver bubbles rising and sinking as it shuddered in its frame. It swelled, the center engorging, pushing outwards. The Queen took a horrified step back away from it, but then it exploded, enveloping her in a silver tidal wave, swallowing her whole and dragged her into it.

The mirror's surface drew back, dragging the writhing lump encased in its reflective surface across the marble floor, and up, inside the mirror's depths. It flattened again, a smooth sheet of glass, showing only my pale and frightened face and the throne room behind me on its surface.