PJ and The Other Side of the Mirror: Promise of Magic, #1

By Stormy Summers

What do you do when you're a 14 year old orphan girl, and you learn that the ultimate fate of the world rests on your shoulders? That's the dilemma facing Promise Janelle Merritt, or PJ as she's known to her friends, when she finds out that she is a long-prophesied Champion who must battle the Devil himself in order to return the power of Magic and Miracles to the world!

Accidentally transported to the legendary Camelot, PJ is trained in magic by none other than the great Merlin, himself, and learns from King Arthur and his Knights just how important her destiny really is! With a company of Elves, Fairies and Immortal Knights, PJ sets out on the ultimate Quest: to locate seven Great Charms that have been hidden in different places and times, and beat Lucifer and his allies to them all.

Her adventures will take her into various points of history, including WW2, the Dark Ages, the American Wild West and others, and she'll find Lucifer's minions waiting and ready to do all they can to thwart her. But her own Company gains new members and strengths each time, and is always ready to leap to her aid and defense. Don't miss this chance to embark on this incredibly exciting quest with the most engaging and determined Heroine to come along in ages!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stormy Summers
• Release date: Jan 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386234661

Stormy Summers

Born in Birmingham, Alabama, and adopted at the tender age of 3 months by a wonderful Christian couple in Live Oak, Florida. I grew up on a farm, participating in 4-H and learning that earning your own money to pay your way through life is one of life's most valuable lessons. My parents brought me up in church, teaching me respect and moral values that are still important to me to this day. I was able to give back to my wonderful parents by helping my father to care of my mother who suffered with Alzheimer's Disease and by taking care of my father who passed away from Cancer only one year before my mother passed away. I spent the biggest part of my life there up until 2 years ago, when I met and married the love of my life and moved to the Ozark Mountains in Arkansas. Together my husband and I are raising the youngest of my five kids from a previous marriage and slowly remodeling one of the oldest houses in the small rural town we live in. We spend an incredible amount of time traveling to see our six grand-children, which means that a lot of the writing gets done on the road, and some of those grand babies tend to pop up in these stories now and then.

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The Promise of Magic Series, Book One

The Other Side of the Mirror

Copyright © 2018 Stormy Summers, Stormfront Publishing

Acknowledgments

This is a work of fiction, and entirely the product of the author's imagination. Resemblance to real persons, places or events are either entirely coincidental, or are used fictitiously. Minor references to the work of other authors is intended to be entirely complimentary, and is done with the greatest respect. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written consent of the Author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information or permission, contact Stormy Summers at [e-mail].

Almando's Tale: La petite blanche is based on the original folk tale of Snow White, and is not in any way connected to or derived from the wonderful motion picture of the same name from Walt Disney. The phrase Mirror, mirror on the wall and related words or styling are used as intentional complimentary reference only.

This book is dedicated to the real PJ, my daughter Promise! She was the direct inspiration for PJ; who is based on her personality. She has inspired much of my work, and will always do so.

Special thanks go to a number of people, including, but certainly not limited to: Ed Baquera (PJ's very first reader, who literally snatched pages from me as I finished them!), Shawn Cole, and others who read the manuscript and offered their suggestions, criticisms, encouragement and praise. Without them, this book would never have been finished.

Author's Note:

Some of the characters herein speak in a dialect that is intended to be an ancient combination of old Anglic, Gaelic and Pictish, but since I don't speak those languages, I was forced to take some literary license with their dialogue. It should not be too difficult to discern their meanings, but to have them speaking in our American idiom would have left the reader with much less of the power of the story.

This is the first in a series of several books, and I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm one of those writers who seems blessed to be surprised at what comes out of my fingers, and how my characters come to life and almost write themselves. It's amazing how often a character I intended as only a walk-on refuses to leave and ends up becoming a major supporting character to the protagonist; one such in this novel is a little girl named Maria, who just plain would not get off the stage once she found it!

There are more of those characters here, but I won't identify them; I prefer to just wait and let you get to know each on his or her own terms. I believe that most of them will become your friends, as they've become my own.

As for the future books, all I can say at this point is that this was merely the foundation, and that each subsequent book will build on it. They will get darker as PJ grows up and deals with realities that most of us will never have to face, but I am convinced that she is strong enough to come through whatever God has in store for her.

Prologue

Almando’s Tale—La Petite Blanche

THERE IS THIS OLD PRIEST that I know, and he has asked me many times to tell this tale. I think that now, perhaps, it is time, and so I tell it, but there are things I must tell you, so you will understand it.

My name is Almando Courdelon, and I am a dwarf. I do not call myself a dwarf as you might know them; the small ones that are today called dwarves are genetic heirs of a time when my kind were numerous, and were often wed to tall folk (as we call most humans). We are your distant cousins in the evolutionary sense, and we can interbreed, but our genes always manifest in the short, strong limbs, the large heads.

In times past, children of such a union were considered a blessing, for they were always intelligent and rich in magic. They often became Wise Ones, who led their peoples and were honored and revered.

My people are not as your legends describe us, although there is some truth in them. We are indeed workers of stone and metals, but we do not live in caves, or in tunnels under the mountains. We build houses of stone and earth, and nature has long lived with us in harmony.

Nor are we so small and ugly! I myself am almost five feet tall, lacking only a quarter of an inch, but then I am considered tall among my folk. Most of my brothers are a half-foot or more shorter than am I, and my sisters average about four feet tall. But I speak of my race, and not of my own siblings. Forgive my manner of using English, s’il vous plaît, please. It is not of me and mine, however, that I write today. It is instead the most tragic story of all time, or at least I judge it to be so. You will decide for yourself.

The year, as you count them, was eight-hundred-forty-nine, and I was a young man of only twenty-five years. I had been sold by my father to the Far Hill Builders Clan when I was seventeen years, but do not think it evil. This was our way of choosing our work; the Clan built large buildings, and this was my interest, so I presented myself as a candidate and they made an offer to buy me, and I gave consent. This was our way.

But at this time, the Clan had been employed by a French Count to build him a palace, and eight of us were on that job. Because I was so young, I was merely a block-carver, making the smooth square blocks of which the main structure was built. My brothers were lintel-makers, floor-smoothers, art-carvers and such, and we had hired local people to do the simple labors.

This was my first job among a lot of humans, and they interested me. I enjoyed watching them, and talking with them, and when we had been there three months, some of them were becoming my friends.

My brothers and I were living in a nice house, and we had a serving woman who cleaned the house, cooked for us, and washed our clothing. She was an old woman, but she worked hard for us and we liked her.

As I say, we had been there three months at this time, and one day we rose at our usual time to find no breakfast waiting, as had always been. One of my brothers went to our woman's room, and found that she had died in her sleep. As I say, she was old for a human.

We sent for her family, and they came and took the body, and we went to work with no breakfast. As I worked with my laborers, I told them what had happened, and one of them, a man named Etienne, asked to speak with me privately. He had a daughter, he said, who was a marvelous cook and a wonderful worker, but she could not find a husband because of a deformity. He wondered if my brothers and I might hire her in the old woman's place; she was almost sixteen years old, he said, and he assured me that she was capable of any work. Only her appearance, he said, was frightening to many humans, but he thought that we dwarves would not be fearful of a young girl.

I spoke with Eben, who was our foreman, the dwarf in charge. He said, What matter how ugly she is, if she can cook and clean? Hire her today!

So I sent Etienne to fetch his daughter, and when he returned with her, even though it was a hot day, the girl wore a hooded cloak and kept her face hidden when I spoke with her, looking down so that I could not see her face at all. I asked her what pay she required, and she named a figure that was only a third of what we had paid the old woman, so I told her that we would not pay so low, and she bowed to me when I told her what pay she would earn in our employ.

I gave her a key to the house, and sent her to get her things and move in. She said she would have our supper ready when we got back after our workday, and when she took the key from my hand, I saw that she was wearing gloves. I was surprised at this, but I thought little of it.

So my friend Etienne was happy that his daughter had a job, for this reason, that if we dwarves were not repulsed by the girl, then perhaps the local folk might accept her somewhat after we had gone. I thought no more about her as I worked, and only remembered her when our day was ended and we walked back to the house for our supper. As we entered, I called out the girl's name, Antoinette, which her father had told me, and she appeared, coming in from the kitchen, which was in a separate little building behind the house.

"Oui, Monsieur, I am here, she said. I will serve your supper when you are ready to eat." She was still wearing her cloak, although it was very warm in the kitchen for the reason of the oven and the hearth fires, and I could not see her face still.

''We will wash, then, and will be ready in a short time, I said, It is not necessary for you to conceal yourself here, Antoinette; we will make no objection or judgment of your appearance."

She curtsied to me. "Merci, Monsieur, but I—I frighten people."

You will not frighten us, Mademoiselle, I assure you. We know that appearance is not a sign of evil, but only what the Great One wills it to be.

She stood trembling, and I repented myself. Mademoiselle, I do not insist. Only I tell you this so that you may choose to be more comfortable, and not fear that we will dismiss you. Your appearance is not of any importance in your work here.

Obo, who was one year older than me, agreed with me. Especially if what I smell tastes as good as it seems to me it must!

We went to wash, and when I was done I found all but Obo in our house's dining room, and took my seat. I had only just seated myself when Antoinette was beside me, still in her cloak, putting a plate and bowl before me. She was not wearing her gloves any longer, I noticed, and then I noticed that her hands were white as the clouds in the sky, as white as wool, as white as the newest snow before the dust in the air can befoul it.

I looked up in surprise, and for an instant I saw part of her face, and it was also of the purest white. I made a small sound, an intake of breath, in surprise, but the damsel thought I was frightened. She ran out of the room, back to the kitchen, and I heard a sob from her as she fled.

At first, I was going to go after her, but Eben told me to let her be, so I began to eat. The food was an excellent stew, and I was almost finished when Obo came to the table.

The girl came to serve him, and before she could leave again, I said, Mademoiselle, may I have more? This is the best stew I have ever eaten.

She stopped and I think she looked at me to see if I was being truthful, but then the hood of the cloak dipped a nod and she came and took my bowl. She brought it back a moment later, and some of the others asked for more, as well, and I could tell that she relaxed, somewhat.

Later that evening, as I was preparing to go to bed, I heard her washing clothing and I went to tell her that she need not work so late. The washing room was at the back of the house, and because she was rubbing the clothes on the scrub­board, she did not hear me approach. She was warm, and though she would not pull off the cloak, she had let the hood fall back, to give her some cool air, and as I entered I saw her face at last.

Mon Dieu! Her face was as white as her hands, but it was not deformed; she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen!

How long I stood there, I do not know, but she was washing and did not notice me for some time. When she did, she uttered a little cry, and pulled her hood up again to hide her face, conceal it from me.

Please, Antoinette, I said, do not hide your face.

But I am hideous, Monsieur, and if you must look at me, you may send me home, she said. I knew she was weeping.

"Ah, ma petite. I said, ''who has told you this lie? I have seen your face, now, and I know the truth, that you are more beautiful than the morning in Spain, you are more lovely than the song of the bird. Please, do not deprive my eyes of your beauty.

She stood very still, and I was afraid I had offended her. The words that I had used might have been too familiar, since I had known her only the few hours.

Monsieur, there is kindness in your voice, but what you speak is the little lie, the fib, to say what one wants to hear, rather than the truth.

"Ah, non, I said softly. I would not dishonor a damsel in such a manner; my words I speak from my heart, and only in truth."

A long moment we stood there, silent the both of us, and then very slowly she raised her hands. They took hold of her hood, and as if she were being born, I saw her emerge from that womb-like darkness, and when at last her head was uncovered, then did she ever so slowly turn her face toward me and raise her eyes the first time to meet mine.

I smiled at her, and saw her face fill with wonder. Monsieur, I am amazed at your courage! You truly do not fear me?

Why would any man fear such loveliness as this that I see with my eyes?

Ah, but Monsieur, they say I have the look of the living dead, that I have been bled by the incubus and the blood-drinkers, that I am not alive, but only animated by evil spirits!

I stepped close and looked at her. She did not withdraw from me, but continued to look into my eyes.

Your skin is white enough for one of those, I admitted, but your eyes are of a lovely blue, your lips red, and your hair as black as night's shadow. I held out my hand, and after a moment, she let me take hold of her own, and I examined it. But, look, your fingernails are as pink as mine, which proves you have blood in you. It is only your skin that conceals it, behind a whiteness that is so pure it should be reserved for Heaven.

As I spoke, I absent-mindedly caressed her hand, and suddenly she blushed. A little pink appeared on the apples of her cheeks, and I realized that my touch on her hand had become seductive, though such was not my intent. Reluctantly, I released her, and she clasped her hands together in front of her.

I had only come to tell you that you need not work so late, I said.

Oh, but this is the last of the washing, and then I will go to bed, Monsieur. She blushed again, and I could not stop myself from smiling.

Very well, then, but please, do not hide yourself. You are so beautiful, and beauty should be seen!

Monsieur is too kind, and so very brave, but will the others not see my face and be afraid?

I laughed, and it startled her. "Ma petite, do not worry so; we are dwarves, who know the earth magicks, and who still remember the true magic in our hearts. We know that incubi and vampires do not leave their victims wandering around seeking employment. My brothers will not be afraid of you, they will find you as comely as do I. This I assure you!"

I turned and walked away, and went to my bed. But I did not sleep for some time, for my thoughts were full of the little white girl; and when sleep did finally come, so also were my dreams.

I was surprised in the morning, and was pleased to see her without the cloak. She wore a skirt of deep blue, and her blouse was like ivory, and the soft black shoes on her feet only accented her white ankles. Oh, how lovely she was!

I was the first to rise, as was normal for me, and therefore the first to come to breakfast. She smiled at me, and bade me sit at the table, and brought me milk and eggs and bacon and hotcakes. I was eating my second plate when the others began to arrive. One by one they joined me, first Eben, then Rolfo and Wallame, and Obo after them; he was the only one to stare at her, and I cuffed him when she began to tremble. He smiled, and told her the breakfast smelled wonderful, and sat down, and she looked at me and served him. Then Elbry, Makales and finally Lagamun, and we were all at the table and all smiling, and she was amazed! Later, she told me that she had never shown her face to so many before, that only her mother and father had seen her so dressed in more than ten years.

At supper that night, I prevailed upon her to sit with us, and I made a space beside me for her chair. She joined us at meals after that, and always sat in her place at my right, and I was daily more charmed by her, as were we all.

And then one day after she had been with us a week, Elbry came in for supper and he was angry. Our neighbors, he said, had seen Antoinette as she hung out the washing, and some had made a meeting about it. They had sent one of their number to speak to Elbry in the road, and demanded that we send her away at once, fearful of her paleness as were the fools she had always known.

I grew furious, and demanded to know who had said this, and would have gone to do them harm had I not seen Antoinette in tears. Her face was twisted in grief, for she thought that she should go, rather than cause us trouble. I went to her and denied her feelings, saying that no one could tell us who could be under our roof, and yet she remained sad. And then Eben spoke to her.

"Mademoiselle, he said, you have been nothing but a blessing to us, but if you have so little respect for us that you would run away when we are called upon to defend you, then perhaps it will be best if you do leave us."

She was speechless, and so was I. I was about to argue with Eben, when Antoinette raised her eyes to his and said, "Monsieur, I have only the greatest respect for all of you. If it would be disrespectful for me to leave, then I will not only stay, but I shall make sure that I am seen by your neighbors every single day!"

"Très bien! said Eben with a smile. This is good. And since it is your skin, as white as snow, which offends these fools, let us make sure they know that we not only welcome you, but also count you one of our own. We shall give you a new name, one that tells all who hear it that we cherish you even in your whiteness. We shall call you—ah, yes; we shall call you Snow White!"

At this, I raised a cheer, and all my brothers followed. Antoinette, with tears in her eyes, said, "If truly you cherish me so, then I am no more Antoinette! I will now forever love, and answer only to, the name you have given me. From this moment until forever, I am Snow White!"

And then she did look into my eyes, and I saw there the first light of pride that she had ever known, and I knew also that I was falling in love with her.

We began using her new name that night, and in order to annoy the neighbors, we would call to her from all around the house and the grounds, and the air sang with our cries of, Snow White? Where are you, Snow White? or Snow White, here, come quickly! By the morning, it had become a game, which she played with us delightedly! Snow White, one of us would call, and she would shout, "Oui, Monsieur, I come!" even though she was standing or sitting not five feet away.

Snow White she indeed became, and I was the one to call out the name the most, laughing when she would run to me with her bright smile. But we would sometimes take moments alone, just the two of us, and in these private moments I had my own name for her—ma petite blanche, 'My Little White'. And she would smile and blush when I called her by that name, and she would softly breathe, Almando, dear Almando...

After a few weeks of this, our neighbors ceased their complaining, and one evening as we ate our supper, Snow White told us that Madame d'Amencourt, who lived to the north in the next house, had stepped out that afternoon and called out to her as she hung the clothes.

Snow White, she said, is it not a lovely day? And our Snow White replied that it was indeed, and they had conversed for several minutes. It was the first time she had ever been spoken to by a woman not her mother, since she was a little girl; or at least, in friendly tones.

That evening, I asked Snow White to sit outside with me, and under the stars I confessed the feelings I had for her. She sat in silence beside me for a moment, and when she did speak, I could hear tears in her voice.

Oh, Almando, she said, and my heart almost stopped, in fear that she would be offended. But she went on, "Oh, Almando, do you mean it? I have dreamed, non, I have prayed that you would speak of love to me, for I am also of the same mind, and have longed to tell you of my love for you! You gave me hope when I had none, and you let me see that I could be beautiful in your eyes. I had never been called beautiful, Almando, but you saw beauty where others could see only ugliness! Oh, Almando, I love you so!"

"Ah, ma petite blanche, I said, Ma chérie!" And then, for the first time, I kissed those ruby-red lips, and tasted the sweetest wine that man has ever known, the wine of true love.

The next week, I invited Etienne and his wife to come for dinner. He knew we were pleased with his daughter, and he had seen her in the streets of the town, going to market without her cloak, her head held high. He even knew that people were actually talking to her, and that she was now known as Snow White, and he was amazed at the way she had come to be accepted.

Everyone knows that snow is pure, Eben had explained to him. With the name of Snow White, it is not possible to continue to think of her as evil or impure, and so it was only a matter of time before she would be accepted.

Even among dwarves, Eben is renowned for his wisdom.

Etienne and his wife, who was called Angelique, arrived at our home, and were surprised to find my brothers gone out for the evening; they would dine with Snow White and myself, I told them, for there were matters to discuss. When a man says matters to discuss to the father of a grown daughter, it is then obvious what the matters are, and after a moment of surprise, Etienne hugged me in his joy.

Angelique ran to her daughter and began weeping with happiness, and when they had calmed themselves, we asked for their blessing to marry, and they gave it graciously—although Etienne took me aside to confess that he was only a poor man, and could not give the dowry a dwarf of my stature deserved. I assured him that I would loan him as much as he wished to give, and at generous terms; this was necessary to preserve his dignity. A man who does not give a dowry worthy of his daughter's bridegroom is disgraced in his community. Borrowing from the future son-in-law was common.

The Comte for whom we were building had been in Spain while we worked, and though we were not near finished he came back to examine our progress. He arrived a few days after the dinner with Snow White's parents, and brought with him a woman he had met on his travels. She was a witch, he said, and had been a great help to him in his diplomacies.

He was very pleased with our work and promised to pay us a bonus if we continued to be ahead of schedule, so my brothers and I worked harder and longer, to try to finish ahead of time. We would start work as soon as it was light enough to see, and work until it was too dark. Snow White was left alone throughout most of the day, but she never complained, for we were to be wed as soon as the commission was finished.

And then one day the witch came to see Snow White. By this time, most of the people in the town had overcome their fears of my betrothed; Eben's ploy had been successful, and her new name had removed any stigma from her appearance. She was no longer considered frightening or hideous, but lovely, and her fame was spreading. The witch had heard of her, and so had come to meet her.

The witch was an old woman, descended from the Greeks, though she herself was from Britain. Her name was Elspeth Undrakus, and though she was called a witch, it was in the old sense: a wise woman, a user of magicks. A witch was not at that time always counted as evil.

She told Snow White that she had heard that my beloved was the fairest flower in the whole of France, and only wanted to meet her. She seemed very polite, and soon the two were visiting almost daily, the witch coming to the house often.

One day, when I got to the house late, Snow White told me that Elspeth had asked her to come to the Comte's home the next day, to receive a gift for our wedding. I was surprised, and for some reason, troubled, but Snow White was so happy that I ignored my misgivings and smiled with her.

If I had known what would happen, I would have taken my beloved and fled! When I got home the next day, Snow White was not there. This disturbed me, but I did not want to make her think I did not trust her, so I did not send word to the Comte's house looking for her. Instead, my brothers and I ate our supper of cold meats and milk, and I waited for Snow White to return.

The hour grew later and later, and I was worried. At last, I could wait no longer, and I went to our stable and saddled a pony. I rode an hour to the house where the Comte lived as he waited for us to complete his mansion, and when I arrived, I rang the bell at his door. A servant opened it, and I asked about Snow White, and was told to wait.

A few moments later, my Snow White came to the door, and my life came to an end.

Almando, she said, I have reconsidered our betrothal, and must refuse to marry you.

What? I gasped, feeling my heart seize in my chest. Oh, Snow White, do not jest so!

Ah, but it is no jest. The great witch Elspeth has asked me to remain with her as her apprentice, and the Comte has asked me to be his wife. I would be a fool to decline such a wealthy man, for a mere dwarfish stonecutter!

My heart broke, and when she closed the door in my face, I turned away and rode back to our house, the very house where I had only the day before known happiness. My brothers could not comfort me, and I was sick in my heart, unable to rise in the morning to work, unable to eat or to sleep.

For three days, I lay there, rising only to avoid soiling myself, and on the third night, in the hours of darkness, I rose again. I had decided to take my own life, for I could not live without my beloved Snow White, ma petite blanche.

I took a dagger, and went out to the grounds, to the bench where I had professed my love, and sat there with the dagger pointed to my heart. I thought one last time of that happy night and was prepared to plunge the dagger into my chest, when a voice behind me cried out, Oh, Almando, no!

I leapt to my feet, and there before me stood the old witch, Elspeth, and it was all I could do not to attack her, not to use my dagger to cut her throat! But I stayed my hand, and she began to speak.

Almando, do not believe your eyes! Though you see an old witch here before you, I am not she. It is I, Snow White, bewitched into the body of this evil woman!

Leave me, old witch, I cried, and speak your lies to another! You have led my love astray, and now you seek to torture me even further? Begone from my sight!

Oh, no, Almando, but I speak truth! she said. How can I prove myself? Oh, but wait! And with the voice of the witch, I heard the words that convinced me that it was indeed ma petite blanche, my precious Snow White, in that withered body; for as do many lovers, we had at times been unable to keep rein on our passions, but only we two knew the things that happened then, and Snow White would never have told them to the old witch, or to anyone else.

I closed my eyes, and took my beloved into my arms. How can this be? I asked her, after assuring her that I knew the truth.

She has great power, came the reply, and a magic mirror. She bade me stand before it with her, and spoke a phrase I understood not, and suddenly I was in this form, and my own body was there beside me! Oh, Almando, she has kept me prisoner these three days, but in desperation I escaped tonight, to come to you.

Within moments, I had roused my brothers and told them about what had happened, and they did not question my certainty; we sat down to begin planning how to capture the witch and force her to reverse this wicked enchantment, to give me back my love, and to give Snow White her body and her life!

But as we were planning, there came a sound at the entry door, and it was struck with such force that it was broken into many pieces. We all rose, and began to reach for weapons, and then Snow White strode into the room.

Of course, I speak of her body, for her soul was in the body of the old witch, which stood behind me. I raised my hand. Stop! I cried, but the evil creature in my beloved's body only laughed. I felt a blow that struck me the whole length of my body, as if I had been thrown into a stone wall. I felt the bones of my body snapping, and my beloved's voice shouted, ''You dare to defy me, girl?"

I was lying on the floor, and as I tried with my broken body to rise, something fell to the floor before my eyes. It rolled toward me, and I saw the dead, empty eyes of the old woman's head stare sightlessly at me.

Ma petite blanche was dead.

My brothers roared, and as one they rushed the evil witch, but she threw up her hands and they were all cast into the wall. Their bodies shattered, their blood flew, and they died in a heap, as in a slaughterhouse.

I alone was alive, and as the body of my beloved Snow White turned to walk away, I cried out, "Witch! Look upon me, witch, for in the day that you see this face again, I vow, I shall be the death of you!"

She turned in that beautiful form, this ugly creature, and smiled at me. I will live forever, dwarf, she said. Will you? And she turned away again.

I will live, I cried with all my grief and rage and hate, "as long as I must! This I swear before Almighty God, Elspeth Undrakus, I shall live to see you die! Do you hear me, witch? I shall live to see you die!"

She did not turn back to me again.

I was found the next morning, and carried to a dwarf clan not far away, where I was cared for until I healed. For three months I lay broken, and it was necessary for me to learn again how to walk, when my bones were mended at last. Afterward, I worked to strengthen myself for months more. I had heard word that the Comte had married the lovely Snow White, and then died of an unknown illness. The young widow had left and gone to Britain.

I prepared for the day when I would follow her, but one day there came a man to meet me. He was a traveler, he said, and was seeking the truth of a tale he had heard, about a girl called Snow White, and a clan of dwarves who loved her, and of a magic mirror.

I told him the truth he sought, and in repayment, he told me why I must not go and kill the witch, yet. But now, he has summoned me. It is time, he says, time for her to die at last, before another young girl's life is forfeit.

Twelve centuries I have waited for this, while everyone I knew died and left me alone in this world, but never has my love faltered, nor my determination.

I only wonder how many girls might have been spared, if I had only ignored him and killed her then? But now there is one who is more precious, he says, than all those who have died, more precious even than my Snow White. He wants me to strike for this girl, and so I shall strike.

But I strike first for Snow White.

Chapter One

Long Lost

1.1

In the back streets , most American cities look alike, and this one was no different. Unless you focused on a well-known landmark, you wouldn't know if you were in Boston, or Toledo, or Chicago or any other city. In Lakewood, one of the lesser-known landmarks was George Washington High School, and while it has little to do with our story, it's still a good place to begin, if only because of its location.

Within the building, in many different classrooms, were hundreds of adolescents, young teenagers. To call them children at their ages, while technically correct, would only irritate them; but few would expect them to show adult levels of maturity or responsibility. Let us, then, refer to them as adolescents. It's an apt description, even though one of them would soon have to be more mature and responsible than most adults ever dream of achieving.

In one classroom on a late May Friday, as a teacher was lecturing his thirty-odd students on the uses of the semicolon in the separation of clauses, three such students were paying less attention to their teacher than they were to each other, making faces and gestures that were intended to convey meanings only they would understand. The little group consisted of one boy and two girls, and their silent communication was based on American Sign Language, which they'd learned because of two deaf children they knew.

The boy, whose name was Jason Eatheridge, was asking if they were stopping for sodas after school. One of the girls, Amy Cooper, had responded that she was willing. The other girl signed that she had no money, so she would pass, but Jason hastily added that he was buying for all of them, so she agreed to come along. When the bell rang, they all rushed to put away books they didn't need for homework (and gather up the ones they did) and slammed lockers shut. The two girls were not as quick as the boy; they were accosted by friends in the hallway, and made promises to call later, or to meet over the weekend. They finally made their escapes, and caught up with him at their common rendezvous under the big oak tree at the far southeast corner of the schoolyard.

An observer would have thought them a very attractive trio. Jason was taller than both of the girls; just under sixteen, he was five-foot-nine, with wavy blond hair and pale blue eyes. He had an athletic build, and had played both football and basketball at school the past two years. The girls at school were always vying for his attention, but Jason seemed to prefer the company of his two friends.

Amy was also blond, with naturally wavy hair that hung to the middle of her back. At five-four, slim and more developed than most girls her age, she was herself popular with the boys; however, she found most of them far too immature for her liking, which was surprising since she was still about a month shy of fifteen. Her eyes, too, were blue, a bright and very piercing shade, and a cute, upturned nose and a pair of rosy, naturally pouty lips completed the package that many of her acquaintances thought just might be headed for some sort of stardom. She had won the female lead in the year's school play, a feat rarely accomplished by a freshman, and was a natural actress.

The other girl was shorter, only five feet tall, and had a mildly exotic look to her face, as if her genes might trace their origins to Europe. Dark complected, with brown hair and eyes that seemed just right on her, she was petite and graceful, and just where she ought to be in growing up. She had noticed boys—although she just couldn't seem to think of Jason as one of them—and they'd noticed her, but so far she'd avoided any direct experience with romance, and that suited her fine. She wasn't as imposing as Jason, or as glamorous as Amy, but somehow it always seemed obvious that this girl was the one in charge in their little group. She was the one to watch, even though she was the youngest of the three, four months younger than Amy.

Jason was waiting when the girls caught up, and he eased into step with them as they walked. The little old store where they often stopped for