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The mirror shivers, a dense fog clouding the pane. I step back, standing tall and proud in front of it. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” I chant. This monthly ritual must be fulfilled. My pride will not allow another to best me in any way. Especially some peasant girl—can you imagine the shame? Shuddering at the thought of some lowly peon being more beautiful than I, I await the mirror’s pleasure.
You may call me vain; it wouldn’t be the first time someone did. I may be. It was drilled into me from birth that perfection was the only allowable standard for members of our family, whether it be in magic wielding, beauty, or academia. Nothing but the best, and should it not be forthcoming, then we would be mercilessly beaten in the dungeons. My mother was relentless in her teachings, and my initial defiance quickly turned into submission, then determination. I would have done anything to stay out of the dungeons.
One day, I know, the mirror will no longer name me the fairest in the land. It is inevitable. Sacrifices and spells may have kept me looking younger than my years, but the time will come when another threatens my place. When it does, she shall find herself laid out upon my altar, sacrificed to both the mirror and the gods, as I tear her still-beating heart from her chest.
The fog dissipates from the mirror, and a deep booming voice answers my question. “In the kingdom of Valderán, you, Morana, are the most fair.” Dark laughter bursts from me while I spin in a circle with delight.Of course I am, I tell myself, flicking my dark hair over my shoulder. The serfs are safe from me today.
“Mirror,” I command, “show me the royal family.” The glass once more fogs over before slowly revealing a field at the back of the palace. The king and queen sit upon a brightly colored blanket, hands clasped tightly together as they share sweet kisses, while their daughter, Snow White, dances amongst the wildflowers. A boy a few years older than her watches over her, while several of the huntsmen stand guard nearby.
Throwing my arms up, I begin chanting in the old language. The words spill from my lips and the runes on the mirror glow a dark red, the color of blood and death. As I speak, I watch intently as thousands of ravens descend from the sky, settling on the branches and around the palace. Snow White screams as they swoop around her, tearing at her clothes and hair.
Cackling wildly, I continue chanting, my voice growing louder and stronger. Black clouds cover the sky, lightning ripping through them while thunder booms. The horses bolt in terror, the guards shouting for the family to come with them.
The spell complete, I flick my wrist, conjuring up a throne. As I settle down to watch the chaos I’ve created, a satisfied smile settles on my face. Speaking the words I did once before, I send them through the mirror. “Magic always comes with a price. A life for a life.”
Chapter 2
Snow White
Six Years Old
Agiggleescapesmeas I race through the tall grass, wildflowers whipping past me as I move. My long black hair flows around me like a dark curtain while I try to escape the boy at my back.
“You’ll never catch me!” I shout behind me, Cassian hot on my heels. The son of Papa’s lead hunter, Alaric, Cassian is four years older than me. We’ve been the best of friends since I was born, when Alaric declared him to be my personal protector. He mostly takes his duties seriously, but other times, I’ll find a frog in my bed or snails in my soup. I shriek as he grabs the strings on my gown, but I manage to slip out of his grasp. “Slow poke!” I call out, taunting him.
“I’ll catch you, Snow!” he shouts back, and I speed up, cursing my dress. It must be so much easier to run in breeches and a tunic. I brought the matter up to my nanny once, extolling the virtues of keeping my gowns clean and untorn, and got a slap over the head for my trouble. I didn’t ask again.
Ducking behind a tree, I come to a stop, hands resting on my knees as I suck in greedy breaths. I blame my heart thundering like a herd of wild horses for not hearing the footsteps coming up behind me.
“Gotcha!” Cassian crows, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me into the air.
“Put me down, you-you cretin!” I shout, trying not to laugh when he starts tickling me.
“I’ll always catch you, Snow,” he promises as he sets me down. “Come on. If your parents stop kissing long enough to realize they can’t see you, I’ll get whipped for sure.”
He takes my hand and leads me back toward where my parents are sitting. “They’re so gross,” I moan, seeing they are indeed still kissing. The forest around us suddenly goes quiet, and a shiver curls down my spine, turning my blood cold. Tilting my head, I whip around, letting go of Cassian.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Something’s wrong,” I whisper. Taking a couple of steps, I come to a stop and glance around. The dread continues to grow, making my heart leap in fear. The sound of thousands of birds in flight reaches me, and I scream as they dive out of the sky. Little claws grasp at me, the talons sharp enough to cut. One gets caught in my hair, ripping me backward as it tries to free itself. Another screams in my face, slicing my cheek. Hot blood gushes from the site, dripping down my face and gown. Shrieking in terror, I start to rush toward my parents who are shouting my name. I’m tackled from the back, Cassian landing on top of me, shielding me with his body. He jerks as several ravens attack him, but he stays strong, keeping me safe.
The brilliant blue sky goes eerily dark as thick gray clouds blot out the sun. A freezing cold wind whips over our heads, the trees almost bending in half with the force of it. I manage to lift my head up enough to watch as the ravens lift from the trees, flying against the wind. Thunder booms so loudly I fear losing my hearing, and the birds all drop from the sky. One lands in front of my face, its beady eye glaring at me. Maggots cover its body, squirming and writhing as they feast on the rotting flesh. I scream again, the horror all around me too much. Cassian leaps up and scoops me into his arms, racing toward my parents who are once again calling my name, their voices filled with terror.
Cassian slips on one of the dead ravens, skidding in its blood. We crash to the ground, another loud crack of thunder booming across the heavens. “Stay down!” he orders, but I don’t listen. I want my momma. She’s the only one that can scare away the dread in my heart. A flash of light blinds me, and Cassian grabs my hand, pulling me into his chest.
“Don’t look,” he hisses, rocking me back and forth, his voice shaky. This alarms me more than anything else, for Cassian is the bravest person I know. Nothing scares him. My hands tremble as I push against him, desperately trying to free myself. He holds tight, refusing to let me go. “No, Snow. Stay with me. Don’t turn around.”
A terrible scream rips through the air. It is one of torment, of a grief so profound it can be felt down to the very soul. Ripping myself away from Cassian, I turn toward the sound, my feet moving of their own accord. My father is on his knees, tears streaming down his face. The scent of burning flesh assaults me, and I gag into my sleeve, my eyes roaming over the scene while my brain refuses to compute what my heart tells it is true.
My beautiful mother lies dead in my father’s lap, half of her body scorched and smoking. A jagged line runs vertically down her face, separating the burned side from the whole. It’s as if the lightning left its mark, claiming victory in her death. Her eyes stare blankly at the sky, the heaving clouds reflected in the unblinking orbs. “Momma?” I cry out pitifully, falling to my knees beside my father. I shiver as my body goes cold. I know she’s gone, but I can’t help but call for her anyway, hoping for some miracle to occur. Sorrow pierces my heart when she doesn’t answer, and hot tears spill down my cheeks.
Papa lets out another cry, and I clap my hands over my ears, unable to listen to the soul-destroying sound again. A sob rips itself from me when Cassian comes up beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder. I cover it with my trembling one, staring at Momma as if she would come back through my sheer will alone.
Suddenly, everything goes still. The clouds stop twisting and turning, and the insects quieten. It’s as if the very earth is holding its breath. A woman’s voice echoes through the trees, reaching toward us with dark tendrils.
“Magic always comes with a price. A life for a life.” The world starts again, and the clouds dissipate, taking the thunder and lightning with them.
Papa rears up, Momma’s cooling body dropping to the ground. “No!” he screams back at the forest before turning to look at me, his fists tightly clenched. I stumble to my feet at the look of hatred and devastation on his face, then freeze in horror when an oily blackness slithers across his eyes, briefly turning his hazel eyes black. “This is your fault,” he spits at me. His arm rears back, and he slaps me across the face.
