Chapter 7

M alvina awoke with a start. She sat upright in her oversized, four-poster bed and stared into the inky shadows. There was nothing but dying embers left in the fireplace, plunging the cavernous room into a deep chill. Something awoke her, but she wasn’t quite sure what. Some shift in the realm. As though a bit of magic rippled through the kingdom.

She shoved off the bedcovers, her bare feet landing on the cold stone floor. A shiver went up to the nape of her neck. She pulled on her thick dressing robe and stalked across her vast bedchamber where she shoved aside the tapestry hiding the Dark Mirror. It was an oval shape, set in an opulent gold frame with ornate scrollwork taking up most of the wall.

“Dark Mirror, tell me what I seek. Do I sense magic in the land?”

A fog appeared in the glass before the face appeared. A face with nothing but round holes for eyes, a nose, and mouth.

“Aye, my lovely queen. Your magic as always.”

She shook her head. “Not my magic. Other magic.”

The mirror paused a long moment before saying, “Aye, there is other magic, my dark queen. Seek what you have lost. The glass slippers have returned.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “The slippers have returned. I must find them. Where are they?”

“Search for them in the village. There you will find them with a young woman.”

“The village .” She said the word as if it were vile.

She hated the village this time of year. Full of cheerful, well-wishers who sang carols and wanted nothing more than peace, love, and joy. The thought made her skin crawl.

“It is where you will find the girl and the slippers.”

“Then that is where I must go.”

“Is she dead?” a man asked.

“She doesn’t look dead,” replied a woman.

“She looks dead to me,” said the man.

“Poke her with a stick. See if she wakes,” suggested the woman.

Ella remained still, listening to the couple. She heard a rustling nearby and then something sharp and cold hit her upper arm. She jerked upward.

“Hey!”

As she said it, the two jumped backward, recoiling from her. The woman dropped the stick.

The man was short, wearing a thick overcoat and a knit cap. He had kind eyes in his aged face. His hands were weather-worn and looked as though they had done a lot of work. The woman was a bit taller than him, with a mess of salt-and-pepper hair, a round face and a bulbous nose. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and concern was written on her face. She also wore a thick overcoat. They looked to be about the same age.

“Well, at least now we know she’s not dead,” said the man.

Ella glanced around. She was in a strange forest with trees rising up high into the sky. Snow drifted down in huge, heavy flakes. She no longer wore the red ballgown. She had transformed back into her tattered servant’s dress. However, she still wore both of the glass slippers.

Her teeth chattered as she looked at the couple eyeing her with curiosity. The woman glanced at her feet clad in the slippers with question in her eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” Ella asked.

“We heard a boom and a crash,” the man said. “Our house is just there.”

He pointed over his shoulder, but Ella couldn’t see the house. She pushed to a sitting position and surveyed the area. Snow fell in earnest now, coming down in thick blankets. She was baffled by the fact she still wore the glass slippers. The last thing she remembered was the clock striking midnight.

“We should get you inside, miss, before you catch your death,” the woman said. “Lukas, help her up.”

Lukas reached a hand down to her. She didn’t hesitate as she took it. Mostly because she didn’t want to freeze to death alone in the forest. She followed the couple out of the foliage.

As soon as she exited the trees, she saw the small stone cottage on the top of a hill. Gray smoke curled upward from the chimney. Each window had an inviting glow. Ivy climbed the outside of the cottage to the eaves of the thatched roof.

There were chickens in the yard pecking at the cold ground even in the snow. The woman shooed them toward the coop. A fuzzy gray cat lounged on the doorstep, its tail swishing in a lazy, contented circle.

“That’s Nicodemus,” Lukas said, introducing her to the cat.

He pushed open the back door and stepped over the cat. But the cat had other ideas. As soon as Lukas lifted his foot to step over him, Nicodemus sprinted through the open door. Lukas stumbled to keep from stepping on him and fell forward into the house. Ella hurried to catch him to keep him from hitting the floor. She grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled him upright. He gave her a relieved smile of thanks.

They had entered the house through the back door in the kitchen, which was small but functional. A fireplace in the living area hosted a warm fire. Nicodemus curled up on the rug in front of it, tucking his head in his front paws. An oversized chair was on one side with a well-worn cushion. A rocking chair was on the other. Next to it was a basket with several balls of yarn in it and knitting needles.

The woman followed them in, closing the door with a snap. She looked Ella up and down. “Let’s get you into something, ah, warmer. What’s your name, dear?”

“Ella,” she said.

“I’m Agnes.” She waved her to follow. “Come with me.”

Agnes led her into a small bedroom with a bed covered with a thick, inviting quilt in a red and white checked pattern. A wardrobe was on one side. On the other, a stand with a pitcher and basin.

A trunk was at the end of the bed. Agnes went to it, shoving it open. After rummaging through it for a moment, she pulled out several pieces of clothing. She gave a glance to Ella with a hmm then nodded to herself. She placed the small stack on the bed and then turned to the wardrobe, pulling open the door. Kneeling down, she picked up a pair of boots. She pushed them into Ella’s hands.

“Oh,” Ella said on a breath of surprise.

“Not sure those will fit, dear, but give them a try. You can’t be walking around in those.” She nodded to the glass slippers. “There’s a nice thick tunic and wool gown for you, too. When you get changed, come have some stew.”

“Agnes, thank you.”

She bustled around to the side of the bed where she struck a match and lit the lantern. It gave off a warm, inviting glow to the room.

“You’re welcome, of course. And you’re welcome to stay the night. It will be full on dark soon and you’ll not want to be out in the cold. Do you have folks here?”

“I, uh…” Ella wasn’t even sure where here was, but she was certain she wasn’t in her home village anymore. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Ah, well, that’s no never mind, then.” She gave a warm smile as she exited the room and closed the door behind her.

Ella stood a moment in the room, alone, holding the boots. She shivered, a chill running through her as she realized how cold it was. She stared down at the glass slippers, wondering if they had something to do with getting her here. But if they did, how? If she took them off, would she return home? She wasn’t certain, but it was worth a try.

She perched on the edge of the bed, ready to take off the slippers, but something stopped her. She hesitated, though she didn’t understand why. Perhaps she shouldn’t take them off? What if she did and something dreadful happened? But then, something dreadful had happened. She woke up in an unfamiliar forest with strangers.

Slowly, she slipped her foot out of first one slipper, then the other. And waited.

Nothing happened.

No magical whirlwind transported her away from this place. And, anyway, Agnes was right. She couldn’t walk around in those slippers if she was to figure out a way out of here.

Shoving aside the thoughts of the slippers, she picked up the stack of clothes Agnes gave her which included a pair of thick socks. She was grateful for their warmth when she pulled them on. Then she removed the tattered servant’s dress and cast it aside. The tunic was buttery soft and some of the finest material she had ever seen. She pulled it on, loving the feel of it against her skin. Last was the wool overdress. She smoothed her hands down the rough material. Despite that, the material was warm and toasty. Then she pulled on the boots to see if they would fit. Sure enough, they slipped on with ease.

Ella neatly folded her old dress and placed it on top of the trunk. She placed the glass slippers on top on that and stood back, thinking. Even in the half-light of the room, they sparkled. There appeared to be a shining aura around them, something she didn’t understand or could explain. She was almost certain the shoes had something to do with the strange happenings as she left the palace gates and the clock struck midnight. It had to be her fairy godmother’s doing. But why?

A swift knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Agnes poked her head in a second later.

“Ah, you look much warmer. How about that stew?”

“Yes, please.”

She followed the woman from the room to the kitchen where she took a seat at the old table. Agnes was all too happy to place a bowl of thick beef stew in front of her with a side of crusty bread. Lukas was busy stoking the fire and adding more wood, humming a soft tune that seemed familiar. It took Ella a moment to realize it was one of her favorite Christmas carols. One her mother used to sing.

“Lukas, come before your stew gets cold,” Agnes scolded.

He placed one more piece of wood on the fire and then joined them at the table.

“It’s going to be a long cold night, my wife,” Lukas said. “Don’t want the fire to go out.”

Ella sat there, holding her spoon, as she watched the two of them interact with an abundance of love and kindness. They had both welcomed her into their home without questions, offered her warm clothes and a place to sleep. Even something to eat. It was more than her stepmother had ever done for her. It struck her then, how she had never seen it in her own household since her father disappeared from her life.

“Ella, dear, is something wrong?” Agnes asked as she spooned a bit of the stew.

Ella shook her head. “No. Everything is just as it should be.”

With a smile, she dug her spoon into the stew.