Devoured

  Devoured

  Amanda Marrone

  FIVE HUNDRED YEARS AGO

  “Helena,” the large mirror beckoned from the east wall, “I have something of the utmost importance to show you.”

  Helena adjusted the crown on her head and scoffed. “I really don’t think I need to see another damn dwarf pining away at the glass coffin.”

  “It’s not that.” The mirror flashed red with impatience. “Come and look.”

  Helena ignored the mirror’s request and continued to gaze out at the meadows that had turned from dry brown to lush green seemingly overnight. “Mirror, did you know the girl used to love to run through the new spring grass?” She rolled her eyes. “With the birds twittering maddeningly after her.” Helena thought it was through this same window that she’d felt the first pangs of envy—of hate.

  No, not through the window, she decided, through the mirror. She pulled the fox stole tighter across her chest to guard against the cool breeze.

  “My queen,” the mirror implored, hoping a more formal tone would appease her. “You should see it for yourself, because …” It paused. The mirror had wanted to lure Helena to its glass and surprise her. It took great pleasure in seeing Helena’s face contort with shock, but over the past few months, as Snow White had retained her beauty in the coffin, Helena had sunk into such a deep depression, the mirror could rarely entice her to look into it. But the mirror knew Snow White had been rescued—by a prince, no less—and surprised or not, Helena would be devastated by the news.

  “She lives,” the mirror whispered.

  Helena inhaled and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She knew this day would come. The girl simply would not die.

  “So she lives,” Helena said as a sharp pounding started in her temple. “You sound surprised.” She rose from the window seat and approached the mirror. She looked at her reflection and plucked out a single white hair from among the black.

  The mirror shimmered, casting Helena’s image in a yellow light.

  “Well, get on with it,” she said. “Show me the girl, unless you’re not done tormenting me with my fading looks.”

  “She lives and she will soon wed,” the mirror stated matter-of-factly. “Preparations are already at hand, and a courier is on his way with an invitation.”

  A castle bustling with wedding activity appeared in the glass. Helena watched servants bring in armloads of ivy and heather for the floral arrangements. Snow White skipped into view, took a branch of heather from one of the maids, and waved it about as she danced past them into an open courtyard.

  Helena shook her head and turned from the mirror. She rested her hand on the cool marble windowsill. “I’ll be happy to attend Snow White’s wedding,” she said. “And I know the perfect gift.” She walked back to the wall and ran her fingers along the mirror’s gilded frame. “You will belong to Snow White.”

  “My queen, I belong to you!” the mirror protested.

  Helena caught a quick glimpse of the creature that dwelled inside the mirror before her own reflection reappeared. She shuddered knowing that the long, hooked nose flanked by smoke-filled eyes would likely visit her in a nightmare tonight.

  “Well,” Helena said to the mirror, “I know how much you enjoy your hold on me, but you needn’t worry. I have no doubt Snow White will succumb to your charms as easily as I did.” She smiled. “Frankly, at this point, the prospect of you corrupting her soul is far more appealing than seeing her dead.”

  The mirror said nothing. It was already wondering just what would bring Snow White under its sway. Perhaps the knowledge that her prince had been intimate with many of the castle maids—some of whom were at this very moment sewing her wedding nightclothes—might prompt Snow White to seek out the mirror’s special abilities for reassurance. Or spying.

  The surface of the glass glimmered happily. Helena knew it was already counting the seconds until it could be alone with Snow White. She sighed. “If only the huntsman had done his job properly and carved out her heart when he was told to, I think I might have had a chance at happiness.”

  Helena’s stomach turned. The mirror had told her she’d take in what she coveted the most—Snow White’s beauty— by eating the girl’s heart. She ran her fingers over the coarse hair poking out of her chin, hating to think of what she’d gained by eating the boar’s heart the hunter had presented her with instead.

  She looked out at the forest surrounding the fields. The huntsman fled when she asked how it was possible Snow White was cavorting with dwarves if he had indeed removed her heart. She caught sight of a small wisp of smoke floating up over some trees in the distance and wondered if that was where he was hiding. “I wish I could give him a gift as well,” she said.

  The mirror flashed in anticipation. Unlike some of its previous owners, Helena had never guessed its true nature. She’d never divined that it could have done away with Snow White long ago if only she had wished it aloud.

  Helena curled her hands into tight balls. “I wish he could feel the envy that haunts me night and day, the all-consuming longing for what others have.” Helena laughed crazily. “I wish his kin and Snow White could feel this burning in their souls forever.”

  Helena shook her head and sighed again. “In the meantime, I guess I’ll have the seamstress cut me a new dress and have some shoes made.” She looked at the mirror and smiled bitterly. “I hope you bring as much joy to Snow White’s life as you have to mine.”

  She left the room, and the jinn that resided in the mirror granted the wish Helena unwittingly cast. It sent out a spell that reached around outcrops of rocks and twisted through brambles until it found the huntsman turning a skinned rabbit on a spit. The spell swirled around the man, and he paused as the hair on his arms stood on end. He scanned the thicket, thinking a wolf was lurking, perhaps drawn by the smell of roasting meat.

  Having found its first mark, the spell wound its way around the trees to the next kingdom where it found the girl with skin as white as snow singing happily in the palace gardens. It wrapped around her heart, and she gasped, not knowing why she felt so uneasy just days before she was to wed her beloved prince.

  Back at the castle, the mirror gleamed with pleasure. It then thought of Helena and wondered if it should warn her about what it had seen in the future—iron shoes, redhot from lying in a bed of coals, placed on her feet at Snow White’s wedding reception. It saw Helena dancing in the enchanted shoes until she took her last breath. The mirror pondered its ability to change her destiny, but in the end it decided that if Helena really wanted to see her stepdaughter wed, who was it to stop her?

  ONE

  Nicki rounds the corner fast, and I clutch the armrest tightly. I take a deep breath and see her look my way.

  “Oh God, sorry,” she says as she takes her foot off the gas pedal and presses on the brake. “I get carried away on this stretch.”

  I look out at the river hugging the road and will myself to take in the gorgeous White Mountains scenery instead of imagining the car skidding off into the water. “Hey, no problem,” I lie. “And thanks for driving me. Figures my mom has one of her stupid dog things the day I get the interview. She and Fergus have a new routine, and this is the first time they’re performing it.”

  Nicki laughs. “How could she retire the ‘Toxic’ number? That was a showstopper!”

  “Ha, ha, funny.”

  Of course my mom dancing with our golden retriever in front of an audience, and then posting the videos on the Internet is anything but funny. “Anyway, I swear I’ll do all the driving when I get my license.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Megan.”

  “Seriously! I’m gonna do it this time. I signed up for lessons with this new driving school that just opened.”

  Nicki pushes h
er long bangs out of her eyes. “I believe you.”

  I know she’s really thinking I’ll chicken out like always, but I’m grateful she doesn’t say it out loud. She knows that despite the years of therapy, riding in a car still freaks me out.

  She takes the turn onto Enchanted Boulevard like a ninety-two-year-old grandmother would, and I point to an office building near the entrance to the park. “The interview is over there.”

  She pulls into the nearly empty parking lot, which will be jam-packed in a week. “Are you sure you really want to do this?” she asks.

  I stare up at the Land of Enchantment sign. Smiling princesses and overly cute forests animals wave their animatronic arms. Even as a kid I wasn’t crazy about coming here all that much—the crowds, the two-minute rides that never seemed worth the long wait to get on them. But Remy loved everything about Land of Enchantment, and Dad used to say he’d never seen a pair of twins look at the world so differently.

  A small shudder wracks my body. It’s been ten years since Remy died, and ten long years of being haunted by her ghost. Coming here is just asking for her to pop up, and I’m wondering if I can pull off an interview with Remy’s ghost babbling in the background. I’m very tempted to tell Nicki to put the car in reverse and go home.

  But I don’t.

  “I was getting sick of the bookstore,” I lie. “Ever since Diane got promoted to manager, she’s been a total bitch. And this way I’ll be outside getting a tan instead of spending another summer paler than a vampire.”

  Nicki shakes her head. “This has nothing to do with getting a tan and you know it. I’ve kept my mouth shut so far, but to be honest, getting a job here because you’re afraid to leave Ryan and Samantha alone is kind of stalkery.”

  “Stalkery? Since when did wanting to spend time with your boyfriend become stalking?”

  Nicki gives me an incredulous look.

  “Okay! The thought of him and Samantha working together has been driving me nuts, but can you blame me? She’s been his best friend since second grade, and we’ve only been going out for three weeks and two days.”

  “This is so not like you! Where’s the Megan who’d never chase a guy she just started seeing? Who’d never in a million years stay with said guy if she didn’t trust him?”

  I stare up at the prince on the sign, climbing Rapunzel’s long braid. “That Megan was tired of not having had a relationship since freshman year. And that Megan was confident things were strictly platonic between them until Samantha made one too many trips to the keg and made her ‘soul mate’ confession. Not to mention the fact that she’s totally gorgeous—and nice. How can I compete with that?”

  “Yeah, that was real nice of her to make a play for Ryan while you were in the bathroom. But despite her drunken confession, he’s still with you, so what are you worried about?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I just wish he hadn’t told me about it.”

  “He was being honest with you, and if you ask me, that’s a good sign.”

  “Or maybe he was laying the groundwork for our breakup—so it won’t come as a big shock when he tells me he’s finally realized the girl of his dreams was living right next door all along.”

  Nicki shakes her head and takes out her iPod. “Good luck. Hope they assign you to something cool like the hot dog cart. Or if you make a really great impression, maybe they’ll give you one of those little brooms and dustpans with the long handles, and you can sweep trash from the walkways.”

  “Actually it’s always been a dream of mine to work the slushy machine, but what I’m really looking forward to is spending the summer endlessly repeating ‘Welcome to the Gingerbread Coaster, please keep your hands inside the car until the ride comes to a complete stop.’”

  Nicki puts the earbuds in. “I’m gonna listen to some songs; the tryouts are tomorrow and I still haven’t decided what to sing.” She turns the volume up and I can hear “Defying Gravity” from Wicked. “Working at any of the fast-food joints on the outlet strip would be better than this,” she says loudly.

  I pick up my purse and tell myself I’m above spying on my boyfriend. But then I think about how being with Ryan makes me feel more alive than I have in years, and I open the door and head for the park offices.

  I sit in front of Mr. Roy and put on the best I-would-so-be-an-asset-to-your-amusement-park smile I can muster. Looking at his Cinderella tie, I have a feeling he’ll be a pushover.

  “So …” He glances down at my application. “Megan, why do you want to work at Land of Enchantment?”

  Telling him I’ve turned into a stalker because good-girl Samantha morphed into a man-stealing bitch is probably not the best approach, so I straighten up, look into his washed-out gray eyes, and lie. “I’ve loved the Land of Enchantment since I was a little girl, and nothing would make me happier than the opportunity to put a little magic into some kid’s summer vacation.”

  I smile harder and hope I didn’t lay it on too thick.

  Mr. Roy tilts his head and beams. He clasps his hands under his chin. “Is there a special memory of the park you could share with me? I always love hearing how we’ve affected people; it’s what keeps me going when the day-today operation details get overwhelming.”

  Oh, God, what to pick? Toddler throwing up on the teacup ride? Third-degree sunburns from standing in endless lines? Eating warm egg-salad sandwiches because my parents were too cheap to buy lunch at the park?

  “Um, well, I remember this one time, I think I was maybe five, and I was scared to go into Hansel and Gretel’s Haunted Forest, and then someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around and there was, uh …” My mind scrambles to come up with something plausible. “Uh, there was Snow White. She held out her white-gloved hand and said, ‘Don’t worry, sweetie; I’ll go in with you.’ With Snow White by my side, I knew I could do it, and to this day Hansel and Gretel’s Haunted Forest is one of my favorite attractions.”

  Mr. Roy looks teary, and it’s all I can do to keep from rolling my eyes. Hansel and Gretel’s had to be the lamest thing here—half the animatronics were broken, and the scariest thing about it was that the fact anyone actually paid money to see it.

  “Well, Megan, I think we have a spot on our enchanted team for a special girl like you. I see you’ve checked off ride operations, gift shop, and character actor on your application. I’d bet a bundle you were hoping to fill Snow White’s gloves yourself, am I right?” He leans toward me and winks.

  Don’t-roll-eyes! “Yes, sir, ‘Snow White’ is one of my favorite stories, and it would be so much fun to play her.”

  “What a coincidence. ‘Snow White’ is one of my favorite stories, too. And with your dark hair, you’ll be perfect! Unfortunately, you can’t be Snow White every day; we try to mix up our team member’s experiences so everyone gets a better feel for the park, and we can find those special kids who turn their Land of Enchantment summer jobs into a life-long career. After all, you’d never know whether you have the makings of our future Fun Farm manager if you don’t get to spend some time in the Billy Goats Gruff pen—which we go to great lengths to keep clean.”

  I smile like this is a wonderful opportunity, all the while praying to God I won’t be shoveling crap all summer.

  “Your next step is to meet our team coordinator—my wife, Miss Patty.”

  He winks at me, and I will myself to keep the wide-eyed smiley expression plastered on my face.

  “She’ll give you our orientation packet and training schedule, and get your size for the costume.”

  He picks up his phone and pushes a button. “Honey bear, I’m sending a new recruit down.” He glances at my application again. “Megan Sones. You’ll need to take her to the costume room for a Snow White fitting.” He pauses and smiles at me. “She’s perfect.” He hangs up and pushes his chair away from his desk. “Patty’s office is just around the corner. I’ll point you in the right direction.”

  I look around at Miss Patty and her office and I’m
thinking she has some unresolved issues that a few years of therapy might make a dent in. The walls of her office are bright pink and adorned with portraits of princesses with oversize light bulb-shaped heads rendered in Day-Glo pastels. PATTY is signed in huge six-inch letters in the bottom right corner of each one, and I wonder how she could’ve willingly signed her name to these atrocities. Completely out of place with the rest of the décor, a ratty stuffed boar head hangs gathering dust above an overly gilded mirror just behind her desk.

  “Megan,” Miss Patty says with a hint of a Southern drawl as she extends a well-manicured hand with rings on each finger. “It is such a pleasure to meet you! I’m Miss Patty, your enchanted team leader, and it’s my job to get you ready for your enchanted summer!”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say, trying not to stare. High, pointed arcs have been drawn on her forehead way above where her eyebrows should’ve been, and one of her false eyelashes is crooked. Her face has a brown leathery look to it—like she’s spent way too much time in tanning booths— and her curly blond hair extensions don’t match the rest of her overly processed, thinning hair.

  Miss Patty points to a pink polka-dotted chair and I sit. I look up at the boar’s yellowed tusks and ratty fur and can’t understand why this woman, who’s obviously very concerned with her appearance and the color pink, would have something so totally gross in her office.

  “Here’s our introduction packet. It has the W-2’s and emergency contact forms you’ll need to fill out, plus general park information, shift times, and a training schedule. Do you know CPR?”

  I nod, picturing myself performing CPR in the Snow White costume, and wonder if it’s too late to run screaming from her office.

  “Excellent!” She opens a folder and scribbles something on the paper inside. She looks up at me and flutters her thick eyelashes. “Oh, I would kill for a complexion like yours!”

  I hear the door behind me open and turn to see a girl about my age with a thick white-blond ponytail and ice blue eyes. “Patty, Daddy said you had some things for me to file,” she says.