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“No one hurts our little sister!” “Shhh! You’ll wake her!” “Nothing will wake her, not until we take the necklace from her pretty little neck.…” “She won’t be angry with us, will she?” “Oh no, she couldn’t be, we’re doing this for her own good!” “Yes, her own good!”
The sisters had seen enough of Belle and the Beast over the past several days to know where this was heading; what with their daily frolics, bird watching, and disgusting looks of tenderness, it was all the sisters could do to keep themselves from retching. If either of them got the nerve to kiss, it would be over. The curse would be broken. Thank Hades Belle and the Beast were each too bashful to make the first move, so for now the witches’ curse was safe. What they needed to do was focus their attentions on someone who could rip Belle and the Beast apart before disaster struck—and that was when they had their idea.
They gathered again near the fire, this time tossing in a silver powder that sparked and made a putrid smell.
“Make her miss Father dear, show Belle her greatest fear.”
The witches’ laughs grew into a cacophonous maelstrom that traveled with the winds to the Beast’s enchanted castle, casting an ill omen over the lovers holding hands in the moonlight.
The sisters watched.
“Belle, are you happy here with me?” The Beast’s large paws enveloped her little hands as he waited for her answer.
“Yes,” she said, turning away.
“What is it?”
She looked heartbroken.
“If only I could see my father again, just for a moment. I miss him so much.”
“There is a way,” he said.
The sisters were still watching and holding their breath.
“He’s taking her into the West Wing!” Ruby whispered, as if the two lovers could hear the sisters’ remarks.
“Show her the mirror!” Martha screamed.
“Calm yourself, Sisters. He’ll show her the mirror,” Lucinda said, smiling, as they watched to see what would happen next.
“Shhh!” Martha hissed. “He’s saying something!”
“This mirror can show you anything, anything you wish to see.”
The sisters had to cover their mouths to muffle the squeals of glee threatening to burst from their tiny ruby-red lips.
“Take it! Take the mirror!” Lucinda screamed, trying to will Belle into taking the enchanted mirror from the Beast. “She took it!”
“I’d like to see my father, please,” Belle said as she looked into the little hand mirror.
The sisters chanted their wicked words one more time.
“Make her miss Father dear, show Belle her greatest fear!”
Their cackles echoed across the lands, and along with them, their foul magic. Belle felt a terrible chill. “Oh, Papa! Oh, no! He’s sick, maybe dying, and he’s all alone.”
Ruby knocked over the scrying bowl, its water spilling over the gingerbread house’s hardwood floors. They could no longer see Belle or the Beast or force their will upon them.
“Martha, quick, get more water!” Martha took the silver bowl and filled it with water, splashing some on her way back to her sisters, who were now on the floor anguishing.
“Here! I have it!” she yelled. “Look! They are starting to appear! What’s happening?” Ruby was slamming her fists on the wet floor again and again so violently her hands started to bleed.
“Ruby, stop! She’s leaving! She’s going to her father! He’s released her!”
Ruby’s face was streaked with black tears. “But did he give her the mirror? Is she taking it with her? We were unable to finish the incantation!”
Lucinda looked up at her exhausted sisters, worn from long days of witchery. “Not to worry, Sisters, she had the mirror when she left.”
