“Mirror, mirror on the wall. Open your eyes, hear my call!”

Marcel stepped away from the magic mirror and waited. Slowly, ever so slowly, a pair of colorless, opaque eyes formed on the surface of the mirror. Nothing else was left from his mother’s time. The soldiers had destroyed her spell books, her cauldrons, and even her ingredients—decades of knowledge and hard work gone to the fires in an instant just because she had tried to kill one measly princess. But they had missed the magic mirror hanging on the wall during the cleansing. It looked innocent enough; its body-length size was wrapped in an ornately carved golden frame—and his mother had been known for her vanity so having a mirror in such a place wasn’t too odd. Luckily it was too heavy and cumbersome to move, so it remained in the dank basement his mother had used for her evil spells.

“What is your bidding, my master?” the mirror intoned in a flat, emotionless voice.

“Where are my grandmother’s spell books?” Marcel roared at the mirror. “I’ve asked you time and time again, and you haven’t given me an accurate answer yet!”

“Through the woods, dark and bleak, lies the house of candy which you seek,” the mirror replied, totally unfazed by Marcel’s anger.

Marcel growled, his fingertips lighting up with sparks as he pointed furiously at the mirror. As always, the magic impacted against the glassy surface before fading away and leaving behind unmarred glass.

“That’s the same riddle you gave me last time!” Marcel moaned. “I’ve searched the Dark Forest endlessly, and the only house I’ve found belongs to those damned dwarves!”

The mirror’s eyes crinkled, as if it were laughing silently. Still, its voice was just as blank as always when it spoke again.

“Have you thought about searching any of the other woods?” the mirror asked. “Perhaps your grandmother did not live in the Dark Forest.”

“But the riddle says dark and bleak,” Marcel replied. “What other forest fits the description nearly so well?”

“Go forth, search north,” the mirror sighed in another riddle before its eyes closed.

Marcel sighed as the mirror went into hibernation again before turning and taking the secret passage that led out of the castle and into the nearby town. He had another journey to prepare for.

Left behind in the dark basement, the mirror opened its eyes again. This time, there was no doubt of the smile in its eyes, although whether the smile was comforting or malicious couldn’t be seen.

The mirror watched Marcel as he snuck out of Snow White’s castle and smiled before finally closing its eyes and falling into true hibernation again.

*

“You’ve met my stepmother,” Hansel laughed. “Of course, she would do something like that!”

Johann just sighed. “I still can’t believe she purposefully took you and your sister and left you both deep in the forest to collect kindling for your father the woodcutter. She wanted you both to get eaten by that witch, didn’t she?”

Hansel tilted his head, his longish light-brown hair flopping into his green eyes. His hair wasn’t as long as Johann’s waist-length blond curls that partially covered a pair of vibrant blue eyes, but it reached past his shoulders and he was proud of that fact.

“Well…yes,” Hansel replied. He had come to terms with his stepmother’s actions years ago, but Johann was new to the area and was just hearing the village stories for the first time. “There wasn’t enough food for five of us, and her own son was more important than her two stepchildren.”

“I don’t think I like your stepmother very much,” Johann finally decided with a firm nod.

Hansel didn’t like the woman all that much either—and he had reasons beyond being sent to die with his sister when he was a child—but even though he liked Johann a lot—a little more than he ought to (but he was keeping that bit to himself for the moment)—there was no reason for Johann to malign Hansel’s family.

“Well, Grethel had the brilliant idea to crumble our bread to leave a trail behind us.” Hansel continued, “Only she never realized something besides ourselves would find the crumbs palatable. The birds had them gone before I figured out what she was doing. And then only the birds were fed that night because she used up everything we had to eat. So, we were hungry and lost when we found a gingerbread cottage.”

Johann snorted. “That’s one of the easiest spells in the books. I could make this room look like it’s made out of cheese without overexerting myself.” He gestured toward the wooden walls and heavy wooden table that comprised the back room of Hansel’s shop. The walls were covered in wooden cabinets filled with potions ingredients, but Hansel kept his workroom clean and organized.

“So could I,” Hansel agreed with a tone to his voice that said if Johann wanted to hear the rest of the story he needed to stop interrupting. “But we were kids, and no one teaches kids magic, so we had no idea. The old lady who greeted us was kind and gave us plenty to eat. What were we supposed to think? But she was blind and not too bright.”

Johann nodded—a witch whose strongest spell was a simple illusion over a house couldn't be too intelligent—but he didn't say anything.

“She forced Grethel to work and locked me up, but every day she would come to see if I had fattened up enough for cooking. I gave her a chicken bone to feel instead of my finger. Grethel had the chance to shove the witch into her own oven, and we escaped. Only, it turned out the gingerbread illusion wasn’t just to make a bland cottage look inviting to innocent children, it was also to hide the fact that the walls were packed with stacks of gold coins.”

“That explains so much,” Johann said with a nod of understanding. “So that’s why your family is so rich for no apparent reason!”

Hansel nodded. “Grethel and I came back with our pockets filled with the coins, and our stepmother sent our father out with a wheelbarrow to collect the rest once she heard our story. Now our house is the biggest and our family the best dressed in the village. If Stepmother didn’t spend all that money in the shops here, we might have had an issue with our neighbors,” Hansel laughed, “but she’s never had a problem with spending the coins and sharing our prosperity in her own selfish way.”

“I still don’t like your stepmother,” Johann repeated with a grumble.

“Yes, well, join the club,” Hansel sighed. “Remember that she tried to kill me and my sister, and the only reason she let Grethel and I back into the house was because we made her wealthy. Now, show me how to do that animation spell again.”

Johann laughed. “You’ll have to show me that house of golden coins sometime,” he said as his fingers began to glow. “Now pay attention,” he added as a carved wooden duck began to waddle across the table.

*

The magic lesson ended twenty minutes later just as Hansel was beginning to understand the particular twist he needed to form the magic into in order to animate the wooden duck without Johann’s help. Grethel knocked loudly on the workroom door, her squalling child on her hip, and pushed into the room without waiting for a reply.

She and Hansel looked like twins, but Grethel was ten months younger than Hansel. They shared the same shade of light-brown hair and green eyes, but Grethel lacked the spark inside that gave Hansel the ability to control magic. His eyes were just a touch brighter than Grethel’s, something she could only replicate with drops of belladonna. Johann had that same spark in his blue eyes, which was how Hansel had known Johann was a witch too.

Hansel let the magic dissipate from the tips of his fingers, the wooden duck falling still on the table, before turning to look at his sister and nephew.

“The guards are here again,” Grethel grumbled. She dropped her unhappy son onto the wooden table, pushing the duck into his grasp to get the child to quiet down. “They’re asking for the town witch to meet with them,” she continued.

Hansel sighed. “What does the guard want this time? I’m not joining their magic brigade, and the town has paid all its dues.”

“I’ll clean up here,” Johann offered, half his attention on keeping the baby from getting a grip on his long hair.

“They’re in the square,” Grethel finished, swooping down after her son and leading the way out of the back room, through the small magic shop Hansel owned and ran, and out to the street.

The square was just a block away; Hansel could see the soldiers watering their horses at the well there and the captain impatiently standing in the road staring at Hansel as Hansel finally stepped onto the street.

“There you are, Hansel,” Captain Arno said with a wide grin as Hansel walked up the road to join him. “Have you reconsidered my offer?”

Hansel tried to hide a grimace as the smelly man draped a friendly arm over Hansel’s shoulder. Captain Arno’s hand was a little too free with touching, and it made Hansel unbelievably uncomfortable.

“My answer hasn’t changed,” Hansel replied. He stepped forward quickly, forcing Captain Arno to either grab hold of Hansel or let go. Hansel breathed a quiet sigh of relief when that heavy arm dropped away.

“Too bad,” Captain Arno said with another grin. His pale-blue eyes were not focused on Hansel’s face as he spoke, rather somewhere much lower, which made Hansel shiver in disgust. “Well, I’m to inform every northern town and village that Prince Marcel was spotted heading in this direction. He is a very powerful witch and is considered to be extremely dangerous. We would prefer to apprehend him alive, but if death is unavoidable then Queen Snow White will understand.”

“What are Prince Marcel’s crimes?” Hansel asked, wondering what the witch could have done to merit such a harsh sentence. True, there had been a rash of evil witches living in the area in the past. Hansel and Grethel had destroyed one a mere decade ago, and a second had ensnared and eventually killed the king and tried to kill Snow White repeatedly. Hansel had heard other stories from neighboring kingdoms, too, about stolen children and ladders made of hair and princesses sleeping for a hundred years, but he hadn’t heard of anything this Marcel had done.

“Nothing yet,” Captain Arno said. He sniffed loudly and spat onto the ground. “But he’s from an evil bloodline, and there have been rumors.”

“There’s always rumors,” Hansel grumbled. “I’ll keep an eye out, Captain,” he finished. “Thank you for passing on the information.”

Hansel was very happy to leave behind Captain Arno and head back to his shop. He didn’t care what Prince Marcel had or hadn’t done. Johann was almost finished teaching Hansel that spell, and Hansel was much more interested in learning magic than chasing after Snow White’s younger, eviler, half brother.

*

Marcel was tired. This was the third forest he had traipsed through over the last month. Once he finally got to the center of every forest, he found everything to be dark and bleak just as the mirror had promised. Still, Marcel headed north.

He traveled as close to the road as he dared, but he feared being seen by the guards so was forced to trek through the trees, avoiding roots and low-hanging branches as best he could. Marcel was scraping leaves and dirt off his grazed hands and knees more often than not, but it was yet another hardship he was willing to endure. When he dared to make camp, he had to travel well into the woods where a fire wouldn’t be visible from the road. Marcel had found yet another dank wood to search through. Hopefully the mirror hadn’t steered him wrong.

At the moment the sun was quickly setting. If he hadn’t known the road was off to his right, he would be totally lost. He needed to find a place to camp before it got dark, though, somewhere where he felt secure enough to actually sleep. An overgrown clearing would be perfect, where no one had visited in a long while, or an ancient loggers’ shed where his only company were a few wild squirrels.

Or, Marcel paused in his fervent wishing, an old cottage in great disrepair exactly like the one in the clearing he had just stepped into. The wood was rotting, and he could see from where he had stopped to study the building that the roof had holes. But it was an actual building with a chimney. He could have a real fire and sleep on an actual floor.

Within moments, Marcel was at the front door. The heavy wooden frame hung askew, the actual door long taken by the elements, but one glance inside showed Marcel that no humans had been into the cottage in at least a full decade. The heavy dust and debris showed plenty of small paw tracks, but not one human-sized footprint.

The best part of the cottage was the total lack of happily whistling dwarves. How his sister had put up with that bunch for so long was beyond him.

Marcel found a space to lay out his bedroll and collapsed onto it with a groan. His feet hurt, his palms were scratched, and his knees were bruised. Those tree roots were merciless, especially after he had been walking for so many hours. It was almost too much effort to build a fire and make dinner. His protesting stomach told a different story, so Marcel forced himself back to his feet and dug into his pack.

He had plenty of water from a stream he had passed a few hours ago, so it was the work of moments to fill his small pot with dried meat and vegetables. He left the dried ingredients to soak while he wandered back outside into the forest to find brush and sticks for a fire. Marcel was happy to see that the chimney looked straight and unbroken from the outside of the cottage, but when he returned inside, he still gathered a bit of magic to send a puff of wind through the hearth to see if the smoke from a fire could also escape. He didn’t want to suffer from smoke inhalation on top of everything else that was hurting him right now.

The puff of air made it through unimpeded, so Marcel laid out the kindling and with another touch of magic caught the small pile of dried sticks and bark alight. Marcel added sticks of larger and larger size until he had a merrily burning fire. The pot of soup fit nicely between two of the larger branches Marcel had found, and with the addition of some spices from a small pouch in his pack, the smell of a rough stew soon began to permeate the dilapidated cabin.

Marcel went to sleep that night warm and full for the first time in a week. He had already decided to stay at the cabin for a few days to rest and let some of his bruises fade before he curled into his bedroll next to the still crackling fire.

Morning came and the sound of birds leaving their nests in the eaves of the broken roof woke Marcel from deep sleep. Usually sleeping outside meant keeping an eye open for predators or passersby, but the cabin was considerably safer. Breakfast was the remains of the now-cold stew from the night before.

Once breakfast was cleaned up, Marcel was at a loss. There were chores he could do, like mending some of the holes in his clothing or collecting more firewood, but he was also curious. Who would build a cabin so far into the woods that sunlight barely reached through the heavy leaves to the ground? And why had the cabin been abandoned? Perhaps he could find an old table or a chair so he wouldn’t have to sit on the ground.

With that happy thought firmly in mind, Marcel got off of his bedroll and headed toward the shakier-looking portion of the cabin. He had slept in an area in front of the fireplace that was mostly free of debris and had few holes in the roof over his head. The other half of the cabin was a disaster. One of the heavy support beams for the roof had fallen in, and the forest had started to reclaim the wood as seedlings and moss sprouted all along the beam.

Marcel found a thin path under the beam and through the saplings growing around it. It looked like an animal had tried to burrow and had given up halfway, but it had cleared enough room for Marcel to squeeze through. He found a staircase that must have led to a storage or sleeping loft, the floor of which had long rotted away. Beyond the staircase Marcel began to find old and cracked bricks scattered all along the floor. There must have been a second chimney, he realized as the path of bricks led him to a massive iron oven. One of the hinges had fallen off, leaving the oven door hanging open and askew. It was unusable without the chimney, but Marcel wondered if he could store his foodstuffs inside to keep any wildlife from stealing it from him.

The oven door was rusted into place, but he put his back into his shoving, and with a loud screech the lone hinge turned and the door opened. Marcel cautiously stuck his head inside, wary of bats, and gasped in dismay.

There were bones inside the oven. Large-sized bones that could only belong to a human. He could see the remains of a hand, and the way the bones were thickened at the knuckles told him the body belonged to an elderly person.

Marcel gathered his magic and let a questing puff drift across the bones. What his magic encountered made him feel immediately ill, and he let go of the spell before the roiling in his stomach made him lose the meal he had just enjoyed. The old woman lying inside her own oven had been a cannibal, feasting on lost children until one of those children overcame her and she died.

He felt sick, looking at those bones, but Marcel was also excited. He could only think of one witch who had been so hungry for children that she had started eating them: his grandmother. With new eyes, Marcel looked frantically around the cabin. Those spell books had to be somewhere.

Aside from what nature had reclaimed, the place looked untouched, as if the children who had killed his grandmother had fled and never returned. The chances of those spell books remaining unharmed on a shelf were high. He walked past the old oven, using his human eyes and his magical ones to search. He stumbled over an old rug, partially saved thanks to a blanket of roof covering it. Next to the rug was a rocking chair in fairly good shape. The find went unnoticed; Marcel had more important things on his mind instead.

He was in a sitting area, Marcel hoped, as what was left of a small side table appeared. It was crushed into three pieces and a large nest was tucked underneath, but it made the section of the cottage he was searching unmistakable. There must be a bookshelf nearby. Marcel yanked leafy branches to the side so he could find the walls, the most likely place for a bookshelf. Finally, finally he found it.

The bookshelf was knee high, with only two shelves, but those shelves were stuffed full of spell books. His grandmother’s cramped writing was on the spines, and Marcel read the titles and dates hopefully. He tried to find the earliest journal, and when he found one dated nearly a hundred years ago, he laughed out loud in relief. The mirror hadn’t steered him wrong; he just hadn’t been searching far enough north.

Marcel reached out to gently take the journal down from the shelf. The answers to everything he had been searching for were inside. His fingers touched the cover. He felt the old and cracked leather and the layer of dust that threatened to make him sneeze. And lastly, he felt the powerful spell web laid on the bookshelf.

It was too late to counter, Marcel realized as he struggled vainly with his own magic. The spell wound around his body until he was completely immobilized. All Marcel could do was analyze the spell, hoping he could find some way to break it. The spell had settled onto his body the previous night when he had first used magic in the cabin. It was an inert spell, which was why he hadn’t noticed it. Had he left the cabin without touching the books, the spell would have faded away as if it had never been. Instead he had touched the books and the spell that had been hiding for hours was activated. It had been laid too long ago for him to stop it.

Marcel’s body was frozen in place, on his knees with one hand reaching futilely for the book he so desperately needed. He was so damned close, but all he could do was wait for the person who had so cleverly woven the spell to return to see what they had caught.

*

Hansel was sleeping in. A rare occurrence for him and he wanted to enjoy it fully. He had a shopkeeper and a young witch in training running his shop, his sister was busy with her child, and his idiot stepbrother was no doubt still drunk in his cups. Only Johann wouldn’t be busy and might wake Hansel up for a bit of early morning fun.

But it wasn’t Johann that finally got Hansel out of bed. There was a persistent tugging in his magical awareness. He tried to bat it away as he rolled over and buried his face into his pillow, but it continued to poke at him. It took Hansel a few long seconds of sleepy grumbling before he realized the direction of the spell.

The woods. A very strong spell of his in the woods had been activated. There was only one spell that qualified, which made Hansel grimace. The witch’s cabin, or more specifically, the witch’s evil spell books.

When Hansel had first gone back to the cabin all those years ago to collect the extra coins with his father, he had come upon a small bookshelf filled to the brim with old magical diaries. One look inside a book told of death, pain, and magic. Destroying spell books required magical fire. Anything less and either the books would be unharmed or they would violently explode.

Hansel had already known after days and days of sitting helplessly in a witch’s cage while Grethel worked hard to save them both that he had to do something to ensure he would never be caught like that again. He was going to become a good witch, using his spells and potions to help people. Good witches were welcomed in every town, and the army had an entire unit made up of them specifically to battle the threat of bad witches.

Their town hadn’t had a good witch back then, which was why they had been plagued with the child-stealing witch for so many years. Finding those evil books had only cemented the plan in Hansel’s mind. He would learn how to make magical fire so he could destroy the books and all the horrible things they represented.

When Hansel was fifteen, he realized there was another option for those books: bait. An evil witch had heard a rumor of powerful spell books left abandoned and she had traveled to the town to terrorize them until the townsfolk handed the books over. Hansel had taken care of her—he had the scars to prove it—and once he had recovered he put his spell web onto the books instead.

Every few years a rumor whispered through the taverns about an abandoned cabin in the woods containing spells of power no evil-minded creature could resist. He had caught a half dozen evil witches that way, much to the pleasure of the guard when he hauled them into the guard station.

Hansel hadn’t sent the rumor out in a few years though, so it surprised him that someone would be looking for the cabin and the books. Perhaps someone had heard the story and couldn’t travel until recently. Either way, Hansel knew he had to change his afternoon plans with Johann. Instead of working on spells, he needed to check out just what, or who, had gotten caught.

With that in mind, Hansel climbed out of bed and started his day. If he was going to go confront an evil witch, he ought to be clean. He lugged buckets of water from the small well behind his house to fill the tub and then dipped his fingers into the water to call heat to his bath. He soaked for a while, letting the stress of studying float away while very firmly trying to listen to what Johann was saying instead of staring at his full lips as he spoke. He didn’t let worry about the witch he was going to capture infect his bath. If the witch was strong, Hansel would have to fight, and fighting often meant getting seriously hurt. Hansel didn’t enjoy it, but he would do it for the good of everyone in his village. He couldn’t allow another evil witch to terrorize them again.

Hansel dressed and headed to the center of town. Johann liked to read in the sun, and he frequented a decorative park Hansel’s father had commissioned for the town to honor the mayor a few years back. Sure enough, Hansel could see Johann lounging on a wooden bench underneath a large oak tree. He was reading his book, totally unaware of the picture he presented to Hansel.

The bright morning sunlight made his already blond hair look like strands of pure gold, which was bent over his book, the braid containing all that hair hanging over one shoulder. The tip of the braid was brushing the ground, but Johann was too engrossed in his book to notice. He was even biting one plump lip in thought as his blue eyes moved quickly back and forth over the page. Even Johann’s long legs were splayed out in front of him, as if inviting Hansel to step close, bend down, and take a deep kiss.

Hansel pushed those thoughts away. He almost had to wave his hands in front of him to force his daydreams aside, they were so firmly entrenched in his mind. He wanted Johann; he was absolutely aware of that. Hansel had wanted Johann from the very first moment Johann had stepped into his shop, looking for a fellow witch to trade spells with. That Johann was also nice and funny and so caring was a bonus Hansel couldn’t overlook. Johann had the entire package, and Hansel wanted to take him home forever.

But there was a very good reason Hansel hadn’t allowed himself to fall in love, one that he also shouldn’t be dwelling on at the moment.

He cleared his thoughts and, before he drifted away again into daydreams, purposefully strode forward.

“Johann!” he called as he reached the bench without Johann noticing. Johann jumped, startled, and accidentally snapped his book shut without replacing the bookmark lying in his lap.

“Hansel! You startled me,” he gasped. He flicked the book open again and turned a couple of pages before he found his spot and slid his silk bookmark into place.

“Sorry,” Hansel replied while trying to swallow a laugh. He wasn’t actually sorry in the least. Johann always got caught up in his books, and it was hilarious to see him jump every single time Hansel managed to surprise him. “I was just stopping by to tell you that something has come up and I’m going to have to skip our lesson this afternoon.”

Johann frowned, his lower lip jutting out invitingly. “You were going to show me that spell you use on Dame Martha’s garden to help her grow such big vegetables.”

Hansel sighed. “I know. It’s my turn to share a spell, but I promise when I get back I’ll look for you.”

“You’re not going to be gone long?” Johann asked.

Hansel shook his head. “It’s just through the forest. I should be back before suppertime.”

“Fine,” Johann grumped, but Hansel could see the hint of a smile peeking through despite his feigned ill attitude. “But I expect you to come straight to me the second you return,” he added with a pointed wink.

If Hansel hadn’t already been falling for Johann, those words might have made him swoon. Instead, he was used to Johann’s flirting and through sheer force of will kept his knees from buckling, his heart from beating out of his chest, or his lips from descending to meet with Johann’s. Okay, so maybe he did love Johann, but Hansel still kept his thoughts to himself. There was something he had to make sure of first.

“If you insist,” Hansel replied loftily with a wave of one hand, trying to show that Johann’s flirting didn’t actually have an effect on him. “I’ll see you later then.”

Hansel walked off. He wanted to stop by his shop first to check in—that ought to take enough time—and then he would head into the woods.

*

Hansel was barely a hundred yards into the woods when he noticed he was being followed. He had known that would happen, but it made his heart sink all the same. He let himself be tracked as he walked through the woods along a path that was unfortunately very familiar to him.

The first time he had walked down the path had been an accident, fueled by youth and ignorance as well as a hungry stomach and a whining younger sister. The second time had been with his father, explaining that the cottage was filled from floor to roof with shining golden coins. Then the evil witches had started to arrive, chasing after those terrible spell books, and Hansel had walked down the path to stop them. Now there was another witch waiting at the end of the path; plus, there was a witch following behind him. Hansel had had his fill of walking down the damned path.

The way was winding, and there were protective spells along the path that Hansel had to disable in order to get by. He left the spells inert; he wanted his follower to reach the cabin, too, and forcing him to play with Hansel’s protections might scare him away. Finally, the clearing came into view, and Hansel walked toward the dilapidated cabin centered in the middle.

His fingertips glowed as he chanted softly. The witch in the house could no doubt sense him, and the one following Hansel was watching from behind a tree. Hansel ignored them both, focusing on his spell work instead. The destroyed house appeared to shimmer for a few moments before a quaint cottage appeared instead. This was the house that had appeared once the witch and her spells were dead. Inside the walls had been packed with gold coins, but outside it looked like a normal home. The house that had drawn him in as a hungry child had been covered in inviting gingerbread, which had been just as much an illusion as Hansel’s illusion of the dilapidated house. Without any concealing spells, it looked so ordinary even an adult wouldn’t have hesitated to knock and ask for help. The witch, despite being senile, had known what she was up to.

Once the magic had dissipated from his fingers, Hansel strode to the front door. It was unlocked and he pulled it open with a forcible yank. He left it open behind him, an invitation for his follower to snoop, and strode inside.

Next to the main fireplace was an unwashed pot filled with what looked like the remains of stew. A worn pack lay next to an equally worn bedroll, situated near the fire for warmth. It was odd that the witch had chosen to camp before beginning the search for the spell books, but it wasn’t unheard of. Most were so greedy that their first inclination was to find the books and then find dinner, but that didn’t mean every witch was the same.

In the back of the house was the sitting area. The evil witch had liked to sit in her rocking chair and read her evil books while the children cooked in the massive oven behind her. Kneeling on the floor, one hand outstretched and fingers barely touching the spine of a book, was a young man approximately Hansel’s own age.

His skin was white as snow, his lips as red as blood, and his hair as black as ebony. There was no mistaking the witch his spells had caught. Prince Marcel, the most wanted evil witch in the country, was helplessly bound in Hansel’s trap, and, Hansel remembered, another witch had been following him. He turned around just in time to see Johann step through the doorway, his hands raised and fingertips alight with magic. Johann took two steps forward before his magic flickered out, and then he struggled with the spell web Hansel had weaved over the doorway until he, too, was caught.

“There was once a witch who was desperate for children,” Hansel said coldly. “So desperate that her evil deeds to accomplish her goal were known far and wide. But the evil witch began to age, and her lust for children grew into a form of insanity. When she settled into this house, she had already destroyed two villages. Children in my village quickly began to go missing, and when my own crazy stepmother decided that Grethel and I were too great a burden, she abandoned us in the woods to get eaten. But Grethel and I defeated the witch instead. I knew there was evil here. I knew that other evil witches would lust for the spells contained in those journals. But I never expected to catch Prince Marcel and Prince Johann.”

“You knew,” Johann rasped through the spells keeping him still. “You knew who I am and why I was at your village.”

Hansel nodded. “The entire time. There is only one reason a witch will travel this far north, and it isn’t to exchange spells with me.”

“You led me here on purpose,” Johann snapped.

“Yes,” Hansel snapped back. Johann was still so beautiful, even though he was angry. Hansel couldn’t stop himself from recognizing that fact. Johann was his friend, and Hansel honestly thought he was a good person. Had Johann been an evil witch, bad things would have started occurring in the village. An evil witch was always so consumed by their power that they couldn’t help themselves. When people hadn’t started vanishing from their beds, Hansel had allowed himself to hope that Johann was telling the truth. Instead, Johann had finally revealed his lust for the evil books and Hansel’s heart had started breaking.

“Let me tell you a story,” Johann hissed through a jaw clenched in anger. His eyes flashed with magic that Hansel’s web prevented from lashing out. “Let me tell you a story about an old crone desperate for children.”

He started his story in the exact same way Hansel had. That should have been warning enough for Hansel to realize where the story was going, but he still felt betrayed and hurt.

“An old woman moved into a house with a large, walled garden in the backyard. There she grew beautiful Rapunzel lettuce. When she learned the family living on the other side of the wall was expecting a child, she put an evil spell on that lettuce. The expectant mother had craved strange things before due to her pregnancy, so her husband didn’t think twice about scaling the wall to pick Rapunzel lettuce to appease her. But the mother fell terribly ill, and the crone appeared on their doorstep and revealed herself to the family as an evil witch. In return for her healing the mother, the witch would take their newborn child. And so, it was done, and the evil witch disappeared with her new baby girl.

“The girl grew up eventually, as all children do,” Johann continued with a sneer on his face. “But the evil witch wouldn’t allow her child to become an adult. She dressed the young woman in children’s clothes and tried to pretend that womanhood wasn’t quickly arriving for the child. But then the girl met a boy and they kissed. The evil witch went ballistic. She killed the boy and ate him raw, then took the girl and locked her up in a tall tower with no exits save one window. There she confined the girl and put a spell on her hair so it would grow long and strong enough to be used as a ladder.

“The rest of the story doesn’t matter. A prince came to rescue the girl, the evil witch found out, and prince and girl were banished to opposite sides of the world, the prince blind and the girl lost. Eventually they found each other again, and Prince Handsome and Princess Rapunzel lived happily ever after. Until they had kids and realized the spell on Rapunzel’s hair was hereditary. My sister almost killed her husband in her sleep one night when her hair grew triple the length and nearly smothered him. I have to cut my hair daily or I’ll end up dragging a tail of it along the ground. And somewhere in those spell books,” he finished with a pointed glare at the small bookshelf, “is the evil spell laid out that will allow me to begin unraveling the spell on my hair!”

The story was so very strange, Hansel thought. Hair that never stopped growing was an odd spell to worry about. Yet, the ferocity and the sincerity in Johann’s eyes were unmistakable. Hansel had spent enough time staring into Johann’s eyes to know when Johann was lying or playing a joke, and Hansel didn’t think this was one of those times.

“Why these spell books in particular?” Hansel asked, feeling defeated. Was he really considering freeing Johann from the spell web and allowing him to look through the evil books?

“I followed the old stories,” Johann explained, his shoulders drooping in what looked like defeat to Hansel. “The evil witch went completely crazy when my mother betrayed her by growing up. She started eating children village by village, so her trail was easy enough to follow. It led me here, to a village that had been plagued by an evil witch eating their children until one day Hansel and Grethel walked out of the woods unharmed.”

“You only made friends with me to trick me into showing you where the books were?” Hansel asked sharply, the feeling of betrayal growing in his chest again.

Johann bit his lip, a familiar gesture that almost made Hansel relent and forgive. Johann was upset and contrite, but until Hansel heard the full explanation he wouldn’t allow himself to give in.

“At first that was the plan,” Johann said softly, as if the weakness of his voice could hide the hurt his words were causing. “I thought that would be the fastest way—become friends with the man who as a boy defeated the witch, and I knew I would eventually learn the location of the spell books. But then I met you,” Johann insisted in a stronger voice. “And I spoke with you, and we shared spells, and I realized all of a sudden that we were friends in truth. I never lied to you about that. But Hansel, you—” He paused, blushing much to Hansel’s surprise. “—you’re amazing; you know that? You survived the evil witch and gained a purpose in life to defeat evil that I have never seen before. You’re wonderful and I really did grow to like that…and you. I like you.”

*

The dilapidated cottage was shimmering around Marcel. Despite being trapped, he could feel the magic swirling around him, and he swore at himself. It was the easiest spell in the world, putting a simple illusion on a house to make it look like something it wasn’t, but because of the ease it was also a deceptively subtle spell. Marcel, in his arrogance, had totally missed it.

The broken-down house had been so inviting to a weary traveler and the space in front of the fire perfect to spend a night and move on. Had Marcel done just that, he would never have been caught. It was genius to leave just one viable pathway through the clutter. The path led past the old oven with the witch’s bones, a warning to any intruder of just what would happen to them should they attempt to steal the evil spell books just beyond. A warning Marcel had ignored.

The spell work had been so clever and so delicate he had never realized he was caught in a trap until after it was sprung. Watching all of that perfect work purposefully unravel around him was illuminating and humbling. It was also damned impressive, but if it got him turned in to the guard, Marcel would have to be impressed after he escaped.

The witch who walked inside the house once the spell had settled was young, but power and competence exuded from him. His green eyes missed nothing as they studied Marcel, and recognition flashed there after a few moments. Then a second witch walked into the cottage. Marcel thought about warning Prince Johann about the trap. They had grown up together, two princes tucked safely away for fostering until Snow White had taken the throne and Marcel had been called home. But Marcel saw the web of spells Johann had unwittingly walked into when he stepped through the open cottage door. It was far too late for Marcel to say anything to help Johann.

And then the sob stories began. The same crazy evil witch had tormented both men, and they were also apparently in love with each other. The anguished looks of hurt and betrayal that as Johann’s story progressed grew into relief were not fun to watch. When Johann, that romantic idiot, began to confess his feelings, Marcel had had enough.

“I’ve been stuck here for hours,” he interrupted. “Before you start kissing, do you think you could let me go?”

The stranger Johann was so enamored with spun around to glare at Marcel. He twirled his glowing fingers behind his back, and as simply as that Johann was freed. Johann stumbled on unsteady feet for a second before taking a few wobbly steps and sinking into the rocking chair next to Marcel.

“Why are you here?” Johann asked.

“For the same damned reason you are,” Marcel replied. All of a sudden, he just felt exhausted. All of his searching had led him to this debacle, and his anger over his failure was useless. “Let me tell you a story,” he said instead, since that seemed to be the theme of the day. He even started with the same words, since his story was connected to theirs. That also seemed to be the theme of the day; three terrible stories from three different lives that were all somehow connected by the same damned witch.

“There once was an evil witch who desperately wanted a child. She was young and beautiful, but despite all the usual methods and the spell-augmented ones, she could not get pregnant. Toward the end of her life she would go insane, stealing baby girls to lock up in towers and traveling from village to village to eat children.” He saw the recognition in their eyes as he referenced their stories in conjunction with his own. The evil witch had traveled far and wide, spreading her poison, and somehow, they had all been impacted.

“But in my story, she was still young and, while she was still evil, she hadn’t quite gone crazy yet. She traveled the world searching for something that would allow her to have a child, and one day she encountered an evil fairy looking to curse a baby recently born in a nearby kingdom. They traded spells. The baby would grow up and then prick her finger on a spindle and instantly die while the evil witch could have exactly one child. And so, the witch gave birth and the child grew into a very beautiful, very vain young woman. The evil witch was forced to watch as the child she had fought so hard for married a king and left her behind, which was, I believe, when she started going insane. The beautiful daughter had inherited the evil witch’s inability to bear children, but she had heard a story of a spell wrought by a queen that brought to life a daughter with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony. She married that king and studied the spell left behind in the queen’s bower, and eventually she gave birth to me. The rest of Snow White’s story is widely known, but the story of that baby girl from nearly a hundred years ago has been forgotten.

“My mother told me with glee about how she had been conceived thanks to an evil fairy. But, I later found out that the good fairies had managed to counter that evil spell, and the girl had pricked her finger and fallen into sleep instead of death. Further research led me to believe that after a hundred years the power of the good fairies would fade and the girl would die. It has almost been a hundred years, and somewhere in these spell books is the answer to how to unweave that spell and save her.”

Johann sighed. “Damn, but we’re all screwed up.”

“My mother used a similar spell against Snow White, you know,” Marcel continued. If he was going to keep Johann and the stranger from turning him in to the guard, he knew he had to keep telling the truth. “A bite of a poisoned apple sent her into deadly slumber. Had Snow White actually swallowed the apple instead of it getting caught in her throat, she would have died outright. But they destroyed every single one of my mother’s spell books after her death. Only my grandmother’s books, these books, hold the key.”

“And you want to save this forgotten princess,” the stranger said skeptically. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face was set into a hard frown.

“Hansel,” Johann implored. “This is Prince Marcel. I grew up with him, and I know he’s not evil.”

Hansel shook his head. “Of course, he’s not evil. People haven’t been dying mysterious deaths all across the kingdom while he’s been running from the guard. Even the most distracted evil witch would stop to take a few beating hearts for some spell or another. I’ve been keeping my ears open, and I haven’t heard anything. But there’s always a starting point for each evil witch, and I don’t want reading these awful books to be it. For either of you!”

The spell on Marcel swirled slightly around his body and somehow managed to dissipate as swiftly and secretly as it had appeared. Marcel finally let his arm drop to his side, and he sat on the rug in front of the bookshelf with a thump.

“Your spell work is very impressive,” Marcel couldn’t help saying to Hansel. He had honestly never seen such fine and delicate control before.

“Yeah,” Johann agreed. “All this time I’ve been teaching you paltry animation spells when you could weave capture and nullification webs?”

“I hadn’t tried an animation spell before you showed me one,” Hansel defended himself. “These webs are my specialty, since I’ve spent a lot of time and effort trying to capture evil witches using the spell books as bait.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Johann sighed, but Marcel could see the teasing twinkle in his eyes. “So, what are you going to do now that you know we’re also after the books?”

Hansel shook his head and groaned. “Honestly, I don’t really know. But I think if I watch you both carefully to make sure you’re not drawn into any evil spells aside from the ones you’re interested in I can keep the books from corrupting you.”

“I would appreciate a chance,” Marcel interjected, looking for any possibility that he could try to find the spell he needed.

“Then I hope I don’t regret this,” Hansel replied. Hansel reached directly into and through the complicated protection web around the bookshelf. Somehow, he could read the web and avoid the traps that would stop even the man who had designed them. Marcel knew he would never have even the slightest bit of that advanced sight and control, but then he didn’t think Hansel would ever be able to master Marcel’s specialty either.

The first book Hansel removed from the web was the one Marcel had been reaching for. It dated back nearly a hundred years and would most likely be where the spell was written down. The second book he pulled free was from forty years ago, when Queen Rapunzel had been a child. He handed both books over and then began to weave a new web. Marcel allowed the web to settle over him, and when he opened the book, he found he couldn’t actually read what was on the pages. He flipped though the book, carefully because of its age, until he found a spell in the middle that was perfectly legible.

“That’s a very nifty spell. You’ll have to teach it to me,” Marcel murmured as he began to read pure evil.

“I’ve found it very useful,” Hansel agreed.

*

Hansel refused to leave Marcel and Johann alone when two of the evil books were out of the spell web. Just because he had put his search spell onto the books didn’t mean that something bad couldn’t still happen. Hansel thought he had judged both men correctly—neither seemed facetious when telling their story—but it was good to be safe just in case.

“Ohh,” Johann moaned. “Mother forgot to mention the part where the witch bathed her hair with the blood of a virgin on her wedding night.”

“That requires at least two violent deaths to nullify,” Marcel murmured absentmindedly as he ran his finger down the page he was reading.

Johann moaned again. “You think I don’t know that?” He took another long moment to reread the spell before shutting the book firmly. He handed the book back to Hansel and then shuddered theatrically. “I feel like I need a bath, a very hot bath.”

Hansel returned the book to the shelf, glad there was only one evil book still out. “At least you know there’s nothing you can do,” he said gently, hoping to return the usual grin to Johann’s face.

Johann rubbed his face with tired hands and let out a groan. “I hope I don’t end up like my sister. Every morning her maid has to chop off the three feet of hair that grew overnight. The wig makers love her, but it drives her crazy. I just give the ends a trim every few hours to keep it under control.”

“I’d be happy to help you with that,” Hansel said gently, reaching out to lay his hand over the thick braid of blond hair hanging over Johann’s shoulder. “Maybe I can try to create a spell web that will take care of it for you. You and I can experiment and then send it to your sister for a birthday present?”

Johann’s smile finally returned to his face. “She would like that. But you’ll have to come home with me to give it to her in person. She’ll want to meet you.”

The last time their faces had moved so close and their voices so husky with lust, Marcel had interrupted before their lips could actually press together. Marcel didn’t disappoint, speaking just as Hansel could feel the heat of Johann’s breath against his own lips.

“What do you know about true love’s first kiss?” Marcel asked. Hansel could tell he hadn’t interrupted again on purpose; he had been so absorbed in studying the spell that when he looked up to see Hansel and Johann pressed close a touch of surprise flitted across his face.

“That would be nice,” Johann muttered under his breath, albeit with a pointed look at Hansel that made his face heat up.

“Everything I’ve read says ‘true love’s kiss’ is a catch-all phrase made to sound fancy and intimidating,” Hansel answered thoughtfully. He didn’t know how to respond to Johann with anything more than a shy grin, so he focused on Marcel instead. “It’s really the intent that matters, so if you want to save the princess, you give her a kiss while keeping that thought firmly in mind, the spell should break.”

“Are you sure that’s the solution?” Johann asked. His hand crept forward to grip Hansel’s, as if he wanted to reassure Hansel that he understood why Hansel hadn’t answered with words. Hansel squeezed his hand and didn’t let go.

“I think so. Looking at the components to the original spell, plus what I know of how the good fairies mucked with it, I think that could be the only solution.” Marcel held the book out to Hansel, who was forced to let go of Johann in order to take the book and put it safely away. He added another layer of spells just in case and couldn’t help letting out a sigh of relief to have the books finally back on their shelf.

“So now you have to go free a princess and we’ll…” Johann trailed off, looking over at Hansel again. Hansel could read the indecision in Johann’s eyes. He had been friends with Marcel and wanted to help him. Hansel wanted to help too. Anything to defeat the last of the evil witch’s influence.

“The castle is guarded by great enchantments. I could use your help with those,” Marcel added.

Hansel glanced over at Johann one more time, and then sighed. Johann was going. Well, Hansel didn’t mind the idea of a bit of adventure. Maybe now that they didn’t have any secrets to hide, he and Johann could form a relationship.

“I need to go back to the village and pack some supplies,” Hansel said in answer. “I’ll be back in an hour. Johann, do you need to grab anything?”

“Some supplies would be good. Marcel, will you be okay if we leave you here for a bit?” Johann asked.

Marcel shrugged, looking irritable again. “Not like I have a choice. I have to stay hidden from my sister’s idiotic guards, and this place is as good as any for that.”

Hansel hesitated, looking at the bookshelf for a moment before pinning Marcel with a hard glare. His meaning was obvious enough, so he didn’t elaborate. “How far away is this enchanted castle? I need to know how much food to pack.”

Marcel frowned in thought. “I think my grandmother was actually journeying there. In her crazy mind, she wanted to return to the very first child’s life she ruined, I think. It’ll take us about two days to walk that far north, as long as we don’t find any obstacles on the way.”

“So, enough food for a week, at least, and we can forage to supplement it if we have to.” Hansel walked across the cabin to where Marcel’s bedroll was still laid out. “I’m going to put some of the protections back up on the cabin while I’m back in the village,” he warned.

Marcel and Johann joined him by the bedroll, and Hansel plucked and twisted with his magic until the spell webs on the cabin were back in place. The neat and orderly cabin vanished, replaced with the ramshackle and rotting version. The less visible webs also settled into place.

“An hour,” Hansel said in reminder before he led the way out the door and back into the forest, Johann following behind.

They reached the village quickly and went their separate ways to start packing. Hansel hurried to his house to grab a bag to hold another set of clothes and some food supplies, then stopped in his shop to warn them he would be away for a few days.

Fifteen minutes later, he was waiting outside by the well in the central square for Johann.

“Going somewhere?” Captain Arno asked. He stepped out of the doorway to the pub and walked across the green to where Hansel was standing.

“You said Prince Marcel was spotted nearby,” Hansel replied, quickly coming up with a plausible lie. “I was going out to set some traps to keep the village safe, just in case.”

Captain Arno grunted. He leaned in toward Hansel, giving Hansel a terrible whiff of an unwashed body combined with the stench of old alcohol. “Need another hand?” he asked, and his leer was both suggestive and slightly drunken.

“I think I can manage. I have Johann to help, anyway,” Hansel tried to explain as he took a step backward. Thankfully, Johann stepped out of the inn doorway, which was the building directly adjacent to the pub. Johann saw Hansel and Captain Arno and headed over.

“You think the two of you can handle the greatest dark witch of our times?” Captain Arno exclaimed, his words mostly slurred. “I think I should join you instead of this fop.”

“We’ll be fine, thanks,” Johann cut in sharply. “Hansel?”

Hansel hurried to Johann’s side, skirting around Captain Arno who was blinking at them stupidly, and fell into step with Johann as they both headed back into the forest.

“Let’s go quickly before he thinks to follow,” Hansel hissed under his breath. Once he was certain the trees hid him from Captain Arno’s view, Hansel started jogging. “We have to get out of this forest before he thinks to come after me.” He reactivated all of his traps as they went past them, making certain each one was functioning correctly before they moved on. No one could be allowed to find the cabin while he was away from the village, including weary travelers his spells usually let through so they could have a safe place to spend the night.

They practically burst back into the cabin, startling Marcel, who jumped to his feet and grabbed his pack after one look at their expressions. He didn’t ask questions, instead following them back out of the cabin and into the woods.

*

Marcel led the way through the forest since he was the one who actually knew where they were going. Hansel and Johann’s frantic expressions when they had returned to the cabin had told him all he needed to know about speed, so he kept them at a pace that would get them to the enchanted castle in a little over a day. After an hour’s walking, however, Marcel knew he had to ask.

“What happened?”

Johann let out a low grumble under his breath. “There’s this nasty captain of the guard who’s enamored with Hansel. He offered to come with Hansel to set some traps to catch you.”

“That’s the excuse I used when he cornered me to ask why I looked like I was going to be traveling for a while,” Hansel added.

“Which means he’ll be expecting something when we return,” Marcel finished with a sigh. “Well, fine. It’s about time I confronted my sister anyway. I just need to rescue the sleeping princess first.”

The rest of the day was spent in silence, as they all needed their breath to keep up with the pace. Marcel was pushing himself and he was used to traveling at this point, but Hansel and Johann were managing to keep up without complaint. There was so much compelling Marcel onward. The time limit on the princess’s life was the most urgent one, of course, but he also needed to stay a step ahead of the people working for his sister. She couldn’t know what direction he was headed in, given the enchanted castle was hidden by magic, but there was always the chance someone could get lucky and find him. The sooner he finished this rescue, the sooner those worries would stop chasing him.

They camped in a clearing deep in the woods that allowed just enough moonlight that they didn’t need a fire to see each other as they ate the travel rations they pulled from their bags. The next morning, they packed quickly and started off again, but this time Marcel kept the pace more manageable. There was no reason to be exhausted from walking when they reached the castle.

It was a hidden enchanted castle, so they didn’t actually see their destination until they basically walked into it. Johann was in the lead, and he abruptly stopped short and threw out a hand to keep Hansel from walking into whatever he had found. Marcel hurried to catch up.

A wall of thorns greeted him as Marcel stopped walking next to Johann.

“This is the first barrier,” Marcel explained. He called on his magic to explore the wall and could sense the telltale prickle that said Hansel and Johann were doing the same.

“It’s a very intricate web,” Hansel murmured. His eyes were closed, but the fingers in his outheld hand were twitching as if he were counting.

Webs were Hansel’s specialty, Marcel now ruefully knew, so he stepped back to let Hansel work. Johann backed away as well.

“I’m better with illusions,” Johann admitted. “I was teaching them to Hansel while he was teaching me spell webs.”

All while Johann waited for Hansel to reveal where he had hidden the spell books, of course. If Hansel didn’t already have a serious crush on Johann, Marcel would feel bad for them, but he could tell Hansel had been able to already forgive Johann for the slight. It would be nice to have someone like that in his own life.

Hansel opened his eyes and slowly let out a breath. “This is probably the most complicated web I’ve ever seen.”

“Can you get us through it?” Johann asked seconds before Marcel could ask the same question.

Hansel grinned over his shoulder at them both and then closed his eyes again. He held out both hands toward the wall of thorns, and all ten fingers began twitching. Marcel could not make out any discernable rhythm. After a few moments some of the thorns right in front of Hansel unfurled like they had simply been flower buds instead of deadly spikes. More and more thorns followed until the entire space in front of Hansel was full of beautiful red flowers. It looked almost like a doorway in shape and size.

Hansel took a step forward until his fingers were touching the soft petals. He paused there for a moment and then stepped forward again. Johann followed, no doubt because he wanted to stay close to Hansel to guard his back, and Marcel made sure to stay close as well.

The wall of thorns was no more than three feet deep. After only a few strides, Marcel emerged on the other side where he had to stop short again. A dry moat was about two feet in front of the tips of his toes. He could see sharp spikes on the bottom, thrust deep into the earth so their deadly points were angled exactly in the right place to impale them should they fall.

“It’s an illusion,” Johann said. It was his turn to close his eyes, and before Hansel or Marcel could jump forward and grab him, Johann stepped out into the moat. Marcel knew Johann wasn’t stupid, but that didn’t stop his heart from jumping into his throat at the sight of Johann’s booted foot reaching out into empty air. Except, his foot hit a solid surface of some sort, and he completed his stride until both feet were standing and he was totally suspended over the moat with nothing visible under his feet. Johann turned to look over his shoulder and grinned cheekily at them. “There’s a path across. Follow me exactly where I step.”

Since Marcel had zero interest in falling to his death this close to the end, he obeyed. He wasn’t about to admit to the other two that nervous sweat dripped down his spine or that his hands may or may not have been shaking slightly, but he took that first awkward step into thin air and felt solid ground under his feet. Johann began to walk very cautiously, and Marcel marked the exact spots his boots touched down so he could carefully follow.

The bridge didn’t actually lead straight across the moat, of course, so they had to very slowly and precisely zigzag their way. Marcel's breaths were shallow from fear the entire time. Looking at his feet was scary; to his eyes it appeared he was standing on air with those sharp spikes just waiting for gravity to finally catch up with him. Needless to say, it was quite disconcerting. Yet, he had to look down to ensure he was placing his feet in the exact same spot as Johann, which had his heart pounding with nerves at every step.

All three collapsed to the ground when they finally reached the other side of the moat. Hansel was shaking and leaning on Johann, who was gripping Hansel back just as tightly. Marcel dug his fingernails into the firm ground just to reassure himself it was actually there. He took a few deep breaths to try to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

As distracted as they were, they almost didn’t hear the roar reverberating overhead. The sound was unmistakable, though, and had them scrambling to their feet as the dragon swung into view. Marcel knew better than anyone what a dragon sounded like. It was how the evil fairy who had helped his grandmother had died. When Marcel had enchanted the evil fairy’s spirit into an object so he could question her, she had still been in dragon form. Thanks to that, Marcel was an expert on how dragons sounded. The sound of the roar ratcheted his previously calming heart back up into a frantic pace as he desperately looked side to side in the hopes of seeing some sort of cover they could hide behind.

He couldn’t see anything except the wide moat behind them and what appeared to be an endless expanse of green lawn in front of them. The wall of thorns had vanished at some point, but that wasn’t what was important right now.

A second roar sent them running aimlessly, desperately, into the green lawn. Marcel kept looking for somewhere to hide, but the illusion or whatever was surrounding them was too good.

“We have to get away from the edge of the moat, at least,” Hansel called from ahead of him. Marcel agreed with that wholeheartedly, but at the same time, there wasn’t anywhere to go. All running would do was exhaust them when they would no doubt need everything they had left to fight the dragon that was coming for them.

There was no need for the third roar that sounded because the dragon dipped down from the clouds overhead. It was a beautiful creature, but scary at the same time. Bright red in color and powerful-looking as it dove at them with sharp fangs in its wide mouth and large horns over its eyes, and it was heading directly toward Hansel and Johann, likely because the pumping of their arms and legs as they ran attracted its attention. It banked sharply to get a better angle, its wings huge and covered in fire-red scales, and as it turned Marcel caught sight of something gold around its long neck.

Webs might be Hansel’s specialty and illusions Johann’s, but like his mother and grandmother, Marcel specialized in enchantments. That collar could only be one of two things: a controlling collar to force the dragon to attack anyone who got past the moat, or an enchantment collar making something innocuous look like the dragon.

He had never met a real dragon before—the evil fairy might have looked and sounded like a dragon, but she was still a fairy underneath the spelled façade—but Marcel was pretty certain dragons were too smart to get stuck as a guard dog for a hundred years. This was probably a hawk or even a sparrow spelled to look like a dragon.

Marcel called on his magic, letting it zip between his fingertips for a brief moment before he sent it flying upward to investigate that collar. Hansel and Johann were yelling something, and he could feel the impact of their spells as they fought off the dragon, but he ignored it all. The real magic was on that collar, and he had the best chance of ending this fight if Hansel and Johann kept the dragon distracted until he figured out the spell.

It was extremely intricate, which he had expected. Spells were woven around even more spells in layers and twists that were dizzying in their complexity. All of it had been compacted into the size and shape of the collar, which made it even more difficult to decipher. Still, just as there was a physical clasp holding the collar in place around the dragon’s neck, there would be a magical equivalent hidden somewhere in the spell. He just had to find it.

Hansel and Johann were still yelling, and the dragon let out another roar. Marcel didn’t dare look away to see what had happened. He hoped they were okay.

Marcel picked through another layer of the spell and dug deeper into the collar. His magic was straining to cover the distance and to keep up the contact with the dragon, but even as he locked his knees to force his body to remain upright, Marcel still kept frantically searching.

Until…there! It was an odd little knot of magic buried in the middle of the mess of the rest of the spell. He used his magic to carefully pick apart the knot, separating the individual strings of the magic, and then suddenly it fell apart.

The roaring and the yelling abruptly stopped. Marcel carefully let his magic dissipate and looked down to see what had happened. Johann was pointing at a much smaller bird of some kind that was high in the sky and flying away as quickly as its wings would take it—it had flown too far away at this point for Marcel to make out exactly what type of bird it was. The dragon had vanished, which meant his assumption that it had been an enchantment on a different animal had been correct. In the dragon’s place, the castle had finally appeared.

Built of wide gray blocks of stone, the building was lovely. They were standing in the inner courtyard, so it was difficult to make out the full extent of the castle, but Marcel could only see one tall tower. The princess would be there. He marked its location at the back left side of the castle.

“I assume you were the one who broke the spell on the dragon?” Hansel asked as he and Johann joined Marcel at the foot of the stairs leading into the front hall of the castle. They looked okay, which was a relief. They were only slightly singed around the hems of their clothes.

“I knew you could hold it off long enough for me to break the enchantment,” Marcel answered simply.

Waiting for more chitchat or taking the time to explain his actions would be a waste. Instead, Marcel started walking up the stairs to the front door. Hopefully, the dragon was the last of the protections, but Marcel still kept an eye out for another trap.

“Where is the princess?” Hansel asked. He and Johann were following Marcel closely, no doubt so they wouldn’t be separated.

The expensive glory of the entrance hall was hidden under what appeared to be a gloomy fog. Marcel had no doubt it was magical in nature, likely to prevent thieves and such from touching anything that belonged to the princess. As long as he stayed away from the brief glimpses of gold or silver he occasionally saw, he should be fine. Ahead of them was another room that appeared to be either a grand ballroom or a throne room. A double staircase framed the entrance hall, one on either wall, that led up to the second floor.

“She’s supposed to be in the tower,” Marcel answered. He chose the stairs on the left and turned left on the second floor to head deeper into the castle.

Johann let out a laughing groan. “Of course, she’s in the tower. What is with evil and magic that convinces them to use towers?”

Marcel’s grandmother had certainly liked towers, but his mother had preferred dank basements. It depended on the witch, to be honest, but he couldn’t blame Johann for making that generalization.

They eventually found a set of stairs leading to the third floor, and from there it was simple enough to find the tower and the entrance. The strange fog seemed to be guiding them along by obscuring side hallways. The door leading into the tower opened as they approached.

The staircase inside wound its way upward to a lone room at the top. Marcel took the stairs slowly. He was tired from the journey here and from all of the magic he had used up. It took a while to get to the top, but neither Hansel nor Johann pressured him to move faster. They appeared to understand just how important this was to Marcel.

Years of hard work and study had gone into this moment. Dozens of forests searched for the correct spell books, all the miles he had traversed to get here, and now he was finally about to achieve his goal of saving the princess helplessly sleeping at the top of the tower.

The fog cleared away as they climbed the last couple of steps into a room lit from large windows set into each of the eight walls. A bed was situated in the center of the space, and on the bed lay a figure shrouded behind gossamer bed hangings. Marcel paused at the top of the stairs, unable not to take a moment to stare at his goal.

Hansel and Johann slid around him, and Hansel reached forward to pull the bed hangings back.

“Um, Marcel?” Hansel said hesitantly as he got a good look at the person in the bed. Marcel took one last steadying breath and then forced his feet to step forward toward the bed.

She was as beautiful as the stories had said. Her hair was the bright gold of sunlight and her lips the pale pink of the softest rose. She was lying on top of the covers and her dress covered her feet. For having been asleep for a hundred years, her beard didn’t look like much more than a five-o’clock shadow.

“Her parents desperately wanted a baby girl,” Marcel murmured as he looked down at the princess. “When she was old enough to understand the choice her parents had made, she tried being a boy for a few years, but she didn’t enjoy it. Perhaps she might not have made the same choice to be a girl had she been raised as a boy, but it was a choice she stuck with until the day her curse took hold.”

Kissing her without her permission wasn’t something Marcel would normally ever do, except it was the only way to break the spell before she died. Hopefully she would forgive him for being so forward.

Marcel carefully sat on the side of the bed, then leaned over and gently pressed his lips to hers. There was an audible snapping sound, and then a rush of air as if one of the windows had suddenly opened. Marcel sat up straight just in time for the princess to slowly blink open her vivid blue eyes.

They immediately found Marcel and widened as she looked at him, and then her pink lips slid upward into a smile.

“My name is Aurora,” she said. “It’s nice to finally meet you, my handsome prince.”

*

Hansel didn’t know what he should have expected when he arrived at the castle after being exhausted by the battle with the enchanted dragon, but the layers of spell webs that covered absolutely everything were almost more beautiful than the furnishings. He couldn’t say what Marcel saw as he led the way through the castle and directly to the tower, but Hansel could see the spells that were making that possible.

The magic didn’t seem malicious, at least. It was as if now that they had overcome all three tests they had proven their worth and were welcome here. It would take days, if not years, to unravel all the intricacies of the webs in the castle. Hansel really wanted to stop and study it all, but one smile from Johann at his side reminded him they were on a rescue mission. They could study the spells after the princess was safe.

Except, love’s first kiss had swept through the entire enchanted castle, dispelling all the magic as it went. The chance to study the webs was gone, but the princess was awake and safe, which was just as important.

Aurora was definitely beautiful, if a bit unconventional, and the way she smiled at Marcel brought a sparkle and joy to her eyes. Marcel was gazing back at her like he had never before seen something so wonderful. It was totally unlike how Hansel had fallen for Johann, which had been slowly over the long days they spent together practicing magic, and yet Hansel couldn’t help reaching back to take Johann’s hand in his. Johann squeezed back and stepped forward so their shoulders were pressed together.

“I’ve been dreaming about you—about all of you,” Aurora added as she turned her head to include Hansel and Johann in what she was about to say. “I know what the evil witches have done to you and how you have all still managed to live your lives despite the burdens you have been forced to carry. I know how the world has changed while this castle and I have been sleeping, but I am ready to take my place in the waking world again. Will you all help me?”

That was a far more layered question than Aurora’s simple smile implied. Hansel was used to evil witches trying to cajole his support by sounding like they were only trying to do what was best. As much as he doubted Aurora was the evil witch in this case, Hansel still couldn’t allow himself to immediately give his support.

“If you have dreamed about my life,” Johann answered before Hansel could formulate his own reply, “then you know that there are very few decisions I am allowed to make without consulting my parents or my sister first. Giving my support to Prince Marcel for this mission to save you might have overstepped the line, but I know that Marcel is the victim of a terrible misunderstanding, so once that is cleared up my actions will be deemed worthy. I cannot do the same for you until my family and I better understand your situation.”

“I do see why your personal situation prevents you, but I hope that I might be able to change that as you get to know me better.” Aurora turned to Hansel for an answer, but her eyes caught on their clasped hands, and she instead smiled gently at him and then turned back to Marcel.

There was a knock on the door before Aurora could say anything else. “My lady,” the servant said with a bow after she bid him to enter, “there is an armed force of guards at the gate demanding we turn over the evil witch Marcel so he might be brought to justice for his crimes. Your father asks if you know what they are talking about.”

Aurora swung her legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood up, leaning on Marcel for support as she carefully steadied legs unused to holding her weight for so long. “Tell my father that Prince Marcel is a welcome guest in our home and that if Queen Snow White wishes to speak with him, she will need to send a proper emissary to our court to discuss the situation. Let me get dressed properly, and I will come down to explain it in full.”

The servant bowed again before hurrying back out the door and down the stairs. Hansel and Johann followed to give Aurora privacy to change, although Marcel stayed behind, which would likely raise some eyebrows if anyone found out.

It didn’t take long to find a window overlooking the front courtyard. The first thing Hansel noticed was the moat, the wall of thorns, and even much of the thick forest surrounding the castle had vanished. The trees of the forest were still visible in the distance, but a long, manicured lawn led up to the main gate, which was closed and manned by men and women in armor. Outside the gate was a small force of what looked like thirty men on horses, and Hansel was pretty certain Captain Arno was standing in the center of them.

“He followed us,” Hansel said, swearing softly under his breath.

“But he can’t get in, at least, not yet,” Johann replied. “Marcel is safe as long as Snow White doesn’t send an entire army to the gates.” Which wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

As they watched, there was some commotion inside the gates. The soldiers at the top were lowering what looked like a letter down to the waiting guards, and a few moments later two of Captain Arno’s men galloped off in the direction of the forest.

“And now, we wait,” Johann murmured.

He wasn’t wrong. It took six days before those two soldiers came galloping back, and the message relayed to the gate guards was that Snow White herself was on her way.

“She never leaves her prince or her castle,” Marcel said, his voice breathy with surprise, when the message was delivered at breakfast that morning.

“Then we shall have to prepare handsomely for her arrival,” the queen exclaimed. She stood from her chair and clapped her hands twice. Servants and vassals surged to her side as she strode from the room, listening as she spoke and then peeling off to go accomplish whatever she had ordered.

Hansel watched it all happen from his place at the table, still somewhat bemused a mere shopkeeper was invited to sit at the table with royalty, even if two of those princes were his friends, and he was fast becoming friends with Princess Aurora too. Still, his knowledge of spell webs had been invaluable in figuring out what had happened to the castle a hundred years ago. While the spell had been broken, Hansel had been able to locate enough of the remnants to decipher the entire tale.

The evil fairy had cast a spell to kill Princess Aurora using the prick of her finger on a spindle as the catalyst, but the good fairies had managed to twist the spell web enough that they could stave off death. Then, they had added another web which had put the entire castle to sleep—right down to the mice in the walls.

The fairies had apparently explained much of the rest of the tale Hansel hadn’t been able to figure out to Aurora in her dreams, which they had given her as a window to the outside world while she slept. It was only supposed to take five years at most for rescue to come, but princes and peasants alike—good people all—had tried and failed to rescue her until the years started piling on. One prince had even managed to kill the evil fairy, but though he had kissed Aurora, there was no love for her in his heart, and the curse was not broken.

As the years passed, the good fairies had despaired of ever finding someone for Aurora until the day they found Prince Marcel. A little push here and there and suddenly he was on a quest to right the worst of the wrongs his family had committed, including rescuing Aurora from imminent death.

Which led them to today, sitting together at a breakfast table waiting for the pending arrival of Queen Snow White.

Breakfast was long over and Hansel fidgeting in the entrance hall when the blare of horns announced Snow White’s arrival. A beautiful golden-colored carriage pulled up to the foot of the stairs outside, and a footman jumped down from the back to open the door and set out a stool. A silk-slippered foot stepped out onto the stool and was followed by the rest of a woman Hansel would have pegged as Marcel’s sister even if he hadn’t already known.

Her hair was braided and knotted at the back of her neck. It was the color of ebony, and against her snow-white skin, it almost seemed to glow. Her lips were the red shade of fresh blood. They had the same father, and their mothers had used the same spell to conceive them, but until he actually saw her he hadn’t know just how much alike they looked.

She smiled at the waiting crowd as she climbed the stairs and stepped inside the castle.

“I had heard stories of the lost kingdom,” she said as she held her hands out toward the queen in welcome, “but I had not realized it was on my lands.”

And just like that, the gauntlet was thrown down. Aurora’s kingdom was situated on the northernmost tip of Snow White’s and had likely been subsumed into Snow White’s a hundred years ago when the kingdom had vanished beneath the fairy’s spell. According to modern borders, Snow White technically owned the castle they were standing in.

“Come, cousin,” Aurora’s mother said as she took Snow White’s hands. “We have much to talk about, especially since my daughter and your brother are looking to wed.”

That had Snow White pausing in place, and her serene expression faltered for the briefest second. Her eyes slid sideways toward where Marcel was standing, but they stopped on Aurora, and a small smile lifted her very red lips.

“So I see. Shall we sit somewhere and discuss?”

Aurora and Marcel led the way up the nearest flight of stairs and into a sitting room just off to one side. The queen and Snow White followed behind with everyone else trailing them. Hansel was swept along with the group, but he was the only peasant present. Johann rested a hand on Hansel’s shoulder, and when Hansel looked up at him Johann was smiling.

“It’s fine. You’ll see,” he whispered before leading the way to a love seat and sitting down beside Hansel. It was comforting having Johann so close, especially when Snow White’s gaze passed over them from where she was sitting in a nearby armchair.

“It seems I have two issues to handle while I am here. I would like to see to Marcel first, if you do not mind.”

“Please.” The queen sat back in her own chair and waved her hand in the air. Servants hurried into the room bearing trays of tea and finger snacks. Snow White waited until she had a cup of tea in her hand and the servants had left before she spoke again.

“I see Prince Johann here, as well as Hansel, the premier witch hunter in my kingdom.” She knew who he was. Hansel couldn’t believe it. “I have a hard time believing two good men would willingly sit in the room with purportedly the evilest witch of their generation.”

She paused as if waiting for an answer. Hansel didn’t quite dare open his mouth, but luckily Johann was willing to step up.

“Where did you get the impression that Marcel was an evil witch? I’ve known him since we were fostered together, and he never once made me think he might be evil.”

Snow White frowned to herself. “Captain Arno was quite specific.”

Of course, it was that idiot. Hansel couldn’t help rolling his eyes, but he kept the scoff inside.

“You do not like Captain Arno, Hansel?” Snow White asked him.

This time he couldn’t get out of answering. Hansel swallowed to clear his throat. “No, my lady. He is not very…nice…to me.”

“He is hoping to bring you my heart in a box before you think to ask for it,” Marcel added.

Snow White appeared to understand what Marcel meant because her brow furrowed. She didn’t explain, instead taking a long moment to have a sip of her tea and to nibble on a bit of pastry. Hansel didn’t know that Marcel knew Captain Arno, but maybe he knew that type of unpleasant person well enough.

“It will be handled. Ugly rumors led my husband, the king, to put out an edict he should not have. I will see Captain Arno interrogated and the truth of the matter brought to light. I suspect someone was trying to discredit me by reminding the kingdom that my stepmother tormented them for so long. Which brings me to my next point—this old kingdom reappearing within my borders.”

“We are aware that the world has continued turning without us,” Aurora said softly. “We have no wish to cause chaos and strife by demanding control over lands that have long been lost to us, but perhaps a compromise could be reached.” She held out one hand, and Marcel immediately took it in his.

“When I married, you were going to give me a bit of land to be steward for, just as dukes, earls, or barons are stewards for their lands under your rule. Let me have this bit of land here with Aurora at my side. We can’t have children of our own, but we would love to foster one of yours and perhaps make them our heir.”

“My sister is looking to foster her youngest son,” Johann added. “I know my fostering with Marcel worked well for me, and I have no problem recommending this as a safe place to send my nephew.”

“After the wedding, I will think about it. There is much to do beforehand, including ferreting out the extent of the traitors trying to force me to turn against my only brother. If I can have your support,” she added directly to Aurora, “I can ensure your kingdom will have the same autonomy as any dukedom.”

Aurora glanced over at her parents, who both nodded regally. “You have our support.”

“Wonderful!” Snow White smiled, and suddenly Hansel knew why she was considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world. It was easy to understand why a vain, self-indulgent woman had decided to kill her. “Now, if you don’t mind I think I would like freshen up after my journey here. Shall we reconvene after lunch?”

She stood and everyone jumped to their feet. The queen rang a bell and a servant hurried into the room.

“Show Queen Snow White to her room and plan lunch for her convenience.”

The servant bowed and politely gestured toward the door. “This way, my lady,” he said softly. Snow White swept from the room.

“Well.” Aurora let out a heavy breath, but she was smiling. “I think that went well.”

“I told you, she’s got too good a heart. That’s why she doesn’t leave home much—she’s too soft-hearted for politics, even though she has quite the head for it.” Marcel shrugged, but he was smiling at Aurora. “I think it will go well.”

They stayed in the sitting room for about ten more minutes to finish the tea and snacks, and then the queen, king, and Aurora all left to get organized for the next meeting. Marcel was about to follow when Johann lifted a hand to stop him.

“Hansel?” Johann said leadingly.

He knew what Hansel was feeling without his having to say anything out loud. Hansel squeezed Johann’s hand to convey his thanks.

“Do you need me here?” he asked. “Not that I’m not happy to stay if you do, but I have duties and a shop to run back home.”

“We’ll be back for the wedding, of course,” Johann added, “but it’s long past time for us to return home.”

He meant Hansel’s home. The little magic shop with his annoying sister. Their sharing magic spells during the day, a meal in the afternoon, and a smile at night. It sounded wonderful. Hansel wanted to go home so badly, but he knew his duties as a subject in this kingdom, so if Snow White needed him he would stay.

Marcel grinned at them. “You just want the privacy of your own bed without servants popping in and disturbing you. Go ahead; just get back here for my wedding.” He continued his aborted walk to the door, but he paused just inside. “And, thanks for believing me and helping me.” He vanished before Hansel could reply.

“Shall we go home?” Johann asked Hansel softly.

Hansel tilted his head upward, and Johann leaned down obligingly. Their lips connected briefly at first—just the barest brush of skin against skin—but Hansel wanted more. He surged upward, demanding Johann’s mouth and claiming it with his own. It was wet and perfect, and he was eager to touch bare skin with his fingers too.

“When we’re home,” Johann murmured, his lips feathering against Hansel’s as he spoke.

Hansel took another kiss in answer and only reluctantly pulled away a moment later. “Let’s gather our things and get going, then,” he replied before taking Johann’s hand and leading him out the room to start their journey home.

*

The magic mirror was definitely smiling now. It was visible in the crinkle around its eyes as he looked out into the dark basement that was his home for the moment. Soon enough another witch would need him—be it for good or evil—but for now his task was done. He could finally sleep until the magic words called him forth again.

This time when the eyes slid closed there was a sense of finality about the gesture. Some sort of element of magic in the air of the basement that had held on despite all the magical implements being properly destroyed all those years ago faded away.

The magic mirror on the wall slept.