A Hidden Magic (3 page)

"Lesson One," the mirror said: "Don't disbelieve something just because you can't see it."

"You're a fraud!" Alexander cried. "I believe
in what I can see. And there's nothing you can do to keep me from taking you with me."

Before he had a chance to make even a slight move toward the wall, there was a hright flash. It was as though the mirror had caught the reflection of the noon sun, magnified it, and flung it back at them.

Jennifer threw her hands up to cover her face and squeezed her eyes shut.

She was still in that position when Alexander lowered the arm he had tried to shield his eves with and blinked roughly several times.

"Now you can't see
anything,
" the mirror said when it was sure Alexander had caught on to the situation. "What do you believe in now?"

Jennifer lowered her suddenly cold hands and looked into the blinded prince's face. Trembling, she saw his expression change from frightened surprise to outrage.

"How dare you!" Alexander said in a quavering voice that became louder with each word. "You can't do this to me!"

"There is," the mirror said, "such a thing as magic."

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Alexander shouted, shaking Jennifer's hand off his shoulder. "My father is the king!"

The mirror remained calm. "Witches
do
fly on broomsticks, lead is turned to gold, and more princes than you would care to hear about spend their lives squatting on lily pads snapping up flies."

Alexander put out his hand to steady himself and blundered against the table. "Give me back my sight."

"I am a magic mirror."

"Give me back my sight."

"I am a magic mirror."

Alexander's hand tightened around the teakettle. "You are nothing!" he screamed, and hurled the kettle at the mirror.

There was a sharp bang, followed by a yell from Alexander as though he had dealt himself the blow; then there was a clinking, chinking, tinkling noise as if the glass were also crying out.

From the spot where the kettle had hit, Jennifer could see cracks spreading like a crazy cobweb—branching out, meeting, dividing, covering the entire surface of the mirror until it was separated into a thousand shimmering pieces. And in each piece, she saw Alexander's mouth form the same wordless cry as he staggered back and sank slowly, slowly down. Then, with a last crystalline sigh, the countless tiny mirrors released these images and let them join the prince on the floor.

Jennifer stood unable to move until the glassy whispers had faded. Even then, her legs felt weighted down and she was afraid to try walking.

"Alexander," she said softly, reaching out to him.

He remained sprawled motionless on the floor, his eyes closed.

"Is he dead?" Jennifer wondered out loud.

"So it seems," came a steady voice at her side, "but so it is not."

Jennifer spun around to face the mirror, ready to accuse, eager to demand explana
tions. Her own reflection glowered back at her—dark eyes in a pale face that frowned more deeply as she realized the mirror was whole again. No smashed center, no jagged cracks—the mirror twinkled and shone in amusement.

"He's not dead?" Jennifer asked suspiciously.

"Asleep."

"How can I wake him?"

"A kiss usually works."

Jennifer was surprised to find that she could walk after all. She knelt beside Alexander and softly kissed his cold lips.

Nothing happened.

"A kiss usually works," the mirror said, "but not always."

Jennifer felt the same sort of frustration building in her that had probably led Alexander to smash the mirror. "What, then?"

"Don't you know?" The mirror's surprise sounded nowhere near genuine.

Jennifer shook her head.

The mirror made a clucking noise. "Lesson Two: If the answer isn't in you, it isn't."

"But what is the answer?" she demanded, jumping to her feet.

"Well, it's not impatience."

Jennifer stamped her foot.

"And it's not anger, either." The mirror's tone was becoming harder. "Why don't you think about it for a while," it suggested, then suddenly snapped, "but not here. You're beginning to bore me. I might decide to put a spell on you, too, any second now."

Jennifer backed toward the door.

"Yes," the mirror considered, "any ... second ... NOW!"

Jennifer turned and ran out the door, down the cobblestone path, through the gate, and into the forest.

Inside the cottage, the mirror continued to twinkle and shine in the morning sunlight.

And the prince slept.

S
HE WAS SIMPLY CALLED THE OLD WITCH.

She was called this by those who lived in the enchanted forest, and by those who had built the magic wall to keep the forest where it belonged, and by all the dark, formless creatures who rode the wind on long, moonless nights.

For as long as anyone could remember, she had lived in a cave whose inside few had ever seen. The cave was filled with the smell of rotting leaves never swept out from autumns long past and with the sound of water drip
ping down slimy walls to form murky puddles on the rough floor. For anyone who dared to peek inside, there was an assortment of cobweb-covered jars and boxes containing secret things, a foul-smelling cauldron that bubbled thickly day and night throughout the years, and several species of mushrooms growing in the darkest corners. There was also a hand-embroidered picture that bore the message
HOME SWEET HOME.

For the moment the cave's only occupants were the spiders, bats, and silent, slippery things that always live in such places. The Old Witch had gone outside because her magic pool had warned that someone was approaching.

"Who?" the Old Witch had demanded peevishly. "Don't just say, 'Someone's coming,' you fool. Show me who."

The pool's surface had shimmered briefly, then showed the features of a young girl's face.

"Well, she just better not," the Old Witch had cackled. "If she knows what's good for her, she better just steer clear of us." With that she had gone to crouch behind a big rock to get a better look.

Jennifer, unaware either of what was good for her or that she was being watched, spotted not the cave but the clear stream that flowed beside it.

The Old Witch saw Jennifer change direction and softly hissed, "Go on, little trespasser, go on. Keep away from our cave. The magic pool and I, we don't like visitors. We don't like you."

But, of course, she was too far away to be heard, and Jennifer stooped beside the water's edge and cupped her hands for a drink.

When she was finished, the young girl sighed and looked around. She had been wandering, lost and frightened, for several hours and still was no closer to finding her way out of the forest than she had been that morning. She wanted to rest but decided to keep going. The sooner she got back to the castle, the sooner she could bring back help for Prince Alexander. She thought of his handsome face and his impossible manner, and shook her head, wishing there was someone else around who could handle this.

"What?" the Old Witch murmured. "Leaving already? Has she seen our cave? Is she going to try to get into our home?"

Jennifer had indeed seen the cave, but she definitely had no intention of going anywhere near it, and started back toward the path.

The Old Witch jumped up from her hiding place. "You better not!" she screamed.

Jennifer whirled to face the old woman, whose black clothes flapped like a scarecrow's in the wind.

After what had happened with the mirror, she was very sensitive about following instructions. "What?" she asked anxiously. "I better not what?"

"You better not go near our cave."

Jennifer glanced at the dark hole in the side of the hill that she had noticed before. "But I
wasn't," she protested. "I was walking the other way entirely."

The Old Witch glared at her suspiciously. "Well, you just be careful, that's all. Get out of here now."

Jennifer took a few steps backward to put more distance between them. "There's nothing I'd like better," she said. "You see, I'm lost."

"Well, you shouldn't have gotten lost near our cave."

"Honestly, I never intended to. If you could just tell me how to get out of the forest—"

"
Out of the forest!
" the Old Witch hooted. "Did you hear that? She wants to get out of the forest!"

Jennifer peered around, wondering to whom the old woman was talking. When she looked back, the other's face was up close to her own.

"Nobody gets out of the forest, little one."

"Oh, dear," Jennifer said. "But I need to get some help."

The Old Witch spat on the ground and asked, "What for?"

"To break a spell."

"To break a spell? To break a spell,' she says!" The Old Witch had a very shrill voice that hurt Jennifer's ears, but the young girl nodded, "/could break the spell."

"You could?"

"I could, girlie. I am absolutely, positively, undeniably the most powerful witch that ever was, that ever will be, or that ever could be. I can make spells, I can break spells, I can..." The Old Witch stopped because she couldn't think of anything else she could do with a spell. "Well, anyway, I can. What do you think of that?"

"I'm impressed," Jennifer admitted, which was certainly true. "Will you help me?"

"I don't think so. But we'll see." The Old Witch started walking toward the cave. "Come on, come on. Don't dawdle," she called, and Jennifer reluctantly followed.

She had only taken one step into the cave when the Old Witch whirled to face her.
"Want an apple, sweetie?" she asked, pulling a big, shiny red fruit out from within the yards of her black clothes.

Jennifer hesitated. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, but she wasn't sure she cared to trust the witch. On the other hand, she didn't dare offend her either.

"Maybe I'll have one later," she hedged.

"Maybe I won't offer you one later." With her few yellow teeth the witch took a big, juicy bite out of the apple, while watching Jennifer's reaction with her glowing equally yellow eyes. "Good instincts for a young whippersnapper," she announced, tossing the rest of the fruit over her shoulder. "Knows enough not to eat while she's in an enchanted place. Or is she just afraid to take food from a stranger? Who cares anyway? Sit down, little dumpling, sit down. Tell me about this spell I could break with a snap of my fingers if I chose to."

Jennifer started from the beginning—describing Alexander.

This was a mistake. The Old Witch made
an ugly, snorting noise. "
Handsomest man in the world,
" she mocked. "What do you know about it?"

"Well, he's the handsomest man I ever saw."

The Old Witch made a nasty sound and ordered Jennifer to the side of what looked like just another of many large puddles on the floor. "Now describe him very carefully."

Jennifer thought this a bit peculiar, but she began to do as she had been instructed. She was interrupted by the witch screaming, "Well, come on, you stupid fool, come on! What do you think we're waiting for?"

Jennifer looked up, but saw that the witch seemed to be addressing the floor. "Please, ma'am," she asked meekly, "who are you talking to?"

"Who do you think, you silly thing?" the Old Witch snapped. "The pool. The magic pool."

"Oh," Jennifer said, and looked back to see a vague form in the water.

"We go back a long time together, the pool and I, don't we?" the Old Witch murmured. "Yes, we do, and now we'll see if this prince of hers is the handsomest man in the world. Go on, pumpkin, go on."

Jennifer began to describe Alexander, and the more she described him, the clearer his picture became in the magic pool.

"Is that him?" the hag asked impatiently. "Is this what you think the handsomest man in the world looks like? Well, he's not bad, I'll grant you that. And I'll wager he's the best a silly young thing like you could find. But he's nothing compared to my beau. Is he now?"

Jennifer wasn't prepared to argue the point, but in any case the witch wasn't talking to her but to the pool.

"Come on, then. Show the child our beau. Come on, come on, you slow thing. There! I wonder what she thinks now. I wonder if she still thinks her prince is the handsomest man in the world."

Jennifer cleared her throat. Now the man
whose picture was in the pool was very handsome, there was no denying that. He looked like the kind of dark, mysterious stranger that fortune-tellers are so partial to. Only it just so happened that Jennifer preferred Alexander's blond-haired, blue-eyed, smiling face. "Well, this man certainly is quite handsome," she admitted.

"Yes?"

"Very intense eyes."

"Very," the witch agreed. "And?"

"And he seems quite tall and athletic."

"But what else?"

"What else? Ahm." Jennifer's mind had gone blank and she groped for something to say. "His clothes are very interesting. I've never seen anything quite like them. Does he come from some other country?"

Again, this was the wrong thing to say. The Old Witch brought her foot down sharply at the edge of the pool. When the ripples settled, the picture was gone. "So they're old-fashioned, so what?"