The rose stood just as it had when she looked at it in the mirror. The shadows were all there, hunched over so they hardly looked like figures anymore, just dark blobs. They heard her and lifted a little, all whispering among themselves. One figure separated itself from the others and came over to her.

  “Juliette, where is he?”

  Juliette didn’t say anything, she just turned back toward the rose. The shadows parted revealing the Beast. He was laid out on a wooden cot, his paws crossed over him, eyes closed.

  “Is he...” Belle choked on the words, “is he dead?”

  “Not yet, but he’s not far from it. He was attacked by wolves, and he apparently didn’t fight back. We found him in the woods, bloodied and unconscious.”

  Courtier stepped out from the shadows. “He’s been unresponsive, but maybe now that you’re here...” his whispers trailed off.

  Belle nodded. She trudged up to where the Beast lay, the fear inside her getting bigger with each step. She wiped her cheek. When had she started crying?

  She reached out, touching the Beast’s arm. His fur was soft and warm, but he was so still. “Beast?” she whispered. “Can you hear me? Please...” A lump formed in her throat, and she couldn’t speak anymore.

  She fell forward, resting her head on the Beast’s chest as she sobbed. How could it have come to this? He was dying and there was nothing she could do. If she’d had more time, maybe she could’ve found a way to break the curse. But death? She couldn’t stop that.

  The Beast’s thoughts were hazy. He couldn’t speak, but he felt the girl’s tears as they poured onto him. She had come back? Or was he already dreaming on his way to the other side? He wanted to open his eyes to look, but his eyelids were too heavy. He heard the Whispers too, but he always heard them, even in his dreams.

  Why was she crying so? Was it for him? He remembered rushing into the woods, but he couldn’t remember anything after that. All he had wanted to do was disappear. Maybe his wish had come true. He was sure the hag who cursed him would have no problem granting him that wish.

  Except if Belle had really come back, he wanted to be there with her. He never wanted her to leave again.

  Something heavy pushed against him. Soft lips brushed over his own. A rush of air covered his ear, and a whisper, so faint he was sure he’d imagined it.

  “Beast, you can’t die. I love you.”

  Belle stood just as light exploded through the room, blinding her. The light circled about before forming a column and swishing up towards the ceiling, lighting every light fixture in the room.

  The walls were no longer a dingy gray, but a pale yellow. The windows were open. The snow was gone, and the trees were full of blooms. Warm, fresh, floral-scented air floated inside. Roses in every imaginable color climbed up the trellis outside of the window.

  Though moments ago it had been twilight, sunshine poured into the room. The Whispers were gone, and in their place stood a crowd of people, laughing, crying, and talking.

  “Belle, you did it.” A man rose from the cot. He ran a hand through his thick golden curls. His clothes were the same ones the Beast had been wearing, but they were loose, the sleeves falling over the man’s hands.

  “Wh...what happened to...” Belle trailed off as the man’s eyes met her. Those sparkling blue eyes she could drown in. Those eyes that were the only thing human about the Beast.

  “Beast?” she asked.

  “It’s me,” he said. “My name is Edward.”

  She threw her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer, whispering in her ear, “You did it. You broke the spell.”

  “But how? You were dying.”

  “You loved me for who I was on the inside. The hag claimed no one could ever love a Beast, but you did, so her spell no longer had any hold. Everything connected to it disintegrated, including my wounds from the wolves.”

  Edward cupped Belle’s face in his hands. He’d thought he was never going to be free. He’d thought he’d never see Belle again, but she was in his arms, and he was human again. The tiny thing inside him grew, spreading through his whole body, filling him.

  “Sire, it worked!” Courtier said, his voice the familiar boom Edward had lost hope of hearing again.

  “Courtier!” Edward turned, reaching out an arm and pulling his butler, his friend, into an embrace.

  “Juliette, Cook, everyone, you’re all human again! We must have a celebration.”

  “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea,” Cook said, immediately making plans with the others.

  “This is amazing,” Belle whispered into his side, her arm still looped around him.

  He never wanted her to let go. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Mm-hm,” he murmured. He was sure that most things from here on out would be amazing. With Belle by his side, how could they not be?

  The father watched his daughter dance with the king. Who knew that horrible beast was hiding the king? And that he was so handsome?

  No wonder his daughter was smitten with him. And now she was the queen. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined anything so grand for her. But her mother had.

  Tears filled his eyes as he remembered his wife telling him their daughter would do great things. She had somehow known. If only she could be here now to see it.

  And Belle, well she hadn’t been afraid to find her future either. He’d found out she’d offered herself up to the Beast in exchange for his freedom. His emotions had run crazy - guilt, shame, anger, pride, love, forgiveness - he’d felt them all over the last few months.

  He’d finally come to understand that this was how things were meant to play out. And look how wonderful things had become. He’d thought that Belle had been killed, or at the very least imprisoned in the dungeon, but he’d never once imagined this.

  Belle walked up to him then, interrupting his thoughts. She held out a hand. He took it, squeezing it, hoping she could feel all the things he wanted to say, but couldn’t quite get out.

  “It’s time for a father-daughter dance, Papa. Will you dance with me?” Her eyes still sparkled with the same light she’d had since she was born.

  “Of course, my darling.” He took her hand and spun her out onto the dance floor, his heart full. He couldn’t have wished for anything more.

  The Sugar Witch

  Gretel’s eyes flew open as fear coursed through her, ripping her from slumber. Tiny, dirt-crusted rocks scratched her palms as she pushed herself up. Her eyes darted around. Trees towered over her, the pink sky barely visible through the thick roof of leaves. Her satchel was half open, the last blackberry roll had fallen out and lay in the dirt next to it.

  How had she been so careless? She snatched the roll, brushing off as much dirt as she could. They couldn’t afford to waste food. Who knew when they would find more? She grabbed the satchel, stuffing the roll back inside as she turned to wake her brother. Her heart stopped. Hans wasn’t there.

  Panic slammed through her as she searched her surroundings once more. Hans was nowhere to be seen. Her throat tightened and the scream she tried to force out was nothing more than a whisper.

  “Looking for something?” a silky, purring voice asked.

  Gretel staggered to her feet, gasping. Who had said that? No one was around.

  “Up here, my dear.”

  Above her, stretched out along a thick branch, sat a solid black cat. Bigger than any cat she’d seen before. His tail stretched down, nearly touching her head. It swung back and forth like the pendulum in the tall clock of the mayor’s house. Gretel had only seen the clock once, so long ago she’d been younger than Han’s eight years, but she’d never forgotten the sight of it.

  “You... you talk...” Gretel sputtered.

  “Of course,” purred the cat, his lemon eyes shimmering as he stared at her. “And I imagine I can help you, if you just tell me what it is you’re looking for.”

  Gretel swallowed hard, not sure she should trust the shiny creature. She’d never met a talking animal, though others in her village had told stories of such creatures. But what else could she do? It was bad enough that they had lost their way home. If she lost Hans too... well, she just might not survive that.

  “I’m looking for my brother. He was here just last night, sleeping and then this morning when I woke, he was gone.”

  “Mmmmm,” the cat purred. “Perhaps I can help you.” He leapt from the branch, landing effortlessly and soundlessly next to her.

  Gretel took a step back. He was so tall, he almost came up to her waist. His paws were as big as dinner plates. This was no ordinary cat, that was for certain. “Do you know where my brother is or not? His name is Hans.”

  “And what are two children doing out here all alone?” The cat circled her before coming to stand in front of her.

  “Well, uh, I’m hardly a child anymore.” Gretel looked down at her dirt-stained tights and worn dress, several inches too short for a girl of fifteen. No wonder he believed she was still a child.

  She shook her head. “But that doesn’t matter. Have you seen my brother or not? He’s small for his age, about this tall.” She held her hand just below her shoulder. “His hair is lighter than mine and he was wearing green lederhosen and a yellow shirt.”

  “Hmm,” the cat purred, his bright yellow eyes still fixed on her. “I don’t think I’ve seen him, but I might know where he is.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a bad idea to go looking for him.” The cat averted his eyes as he turned and walked away.

  “Wait, why?” Gretel chased after him. “Where is he at?”

  The cat just ignored her as he plodded down the path.

  “Um, excuse me,” Gretel called as she rushed to keep up with him. “Mr. Cat, I really need your help. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly.” Gretel tripped over a thick branch in the pathway, nearly falling over before introducing herself. The cat didn’t even break pace as he continued to ignore her.

  “Please, I need your help.” Gretel fought to keep the tears from falling, hating the desperation in her voice.

  The feline sighed heavily and stopped. “They never learn,” he muttered as he shook his head.

  “Oh, thank-you, Mr....” Gretel waited for the cat to tell her his name.

  “Tropie, no Mr.,” he growled, slowly turning to face her.

  “And where do you think my brother is at?”

  “At the Sugar Witch’s house. It’s unlikely he’ll make it out of there, though.”

  “Th...the Sugar Witch?” The lump in Gretel’s throat grew bigger. She didn’t know of this witch, but she’d heard of others, one who poisoned apples and gave them to unsuspecting girls, another who’d cursed a girl to sleep for a hundred years, and yet another who took girls and locked them away, taking their youth and beauty as her own.

  “What does she do with children?”

  “She eats them.”

  “What?” Gretel gasped. “I have to go there. I need to get there before she hurts him.” Her eyes darted about frantically.

  “Can you at least tell me where she lives?”

  Tropie shook his head. “You’ll never find it on your own. I suppose I could take you there, but nothing is ever free, so what would I receive in return for this kind gesture?”

  Gretel dug into her bag, pulled out the last blackberry roll, and offered it to him.

  He shook his head. “I don’t need or want food.”

  His bright yellow eyes seared her neck. She reached up, clutching the delicate silver key that hung on a chain there. “Hmm, and what’s that you're hiding under your dress?”

  The necklace had been her mother’s, the one thing she had left. It was the whole reason she and Hans were out in the woods. Ever since her mother had passed last year, their father had been depressed and listless. He’d lost his job, and he spent most days on the couch drinking away his sorrow.

  Gretel had done everything she could think of to pull her father from his despair, but nothing had worked. She had to quit school so she could manage the household chores and go to work at the bakery. But that job didn’t bring in much, just enough for food and other minimal supplies. Eventually their landlord’s grace had run out.

  He’d demanded payment for rent within the week. If they didn’t find a way to come up with the money, they’d be out on the streets as they had nowhere else to go. No family to stay with, not even friends who might be willing to let them stay for a few weeks. Her father had burned those bridges by screaming and slamming the door in the faces of all who’d tried to offer food or help. Gretel couldn’t fathom what was going on in her father’s mind. Didn’t he realize he was only harming his children?

  When she tried to get him to do something about the rent payment looming over them, he shrugged her hand off his shoulder in a drunken stupor as he said, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore.”

  Gretel had gotten angry and screamed at her father for the first time in her life. “What do you mean, Papa? Hans and I don’t matter? Because that’s what it sounds like. If we don’t pay the rent, we will be on the streets!”

  Her screams had fallen on deaf ears. Her father’s loud snoring was the only reply she’d received. Tears had streamed down her face, but she couldn’t let herself give into the crying. She had to do something to keep them from getting thrown out of their house.

  Just on the other side of the woods, a merchant lived who paid top dollar for silver and gold, so she went to her mother’s jewelry box and retrieved the silver necklace. It was so fine, it would fetch more than enough to pay their rent for several months. She could only hope that within that time her father would manage to break away from his misery and return to work.

  Afraid to leave her brother home alone with her father, Gretel had told Hans they were going on an adventure. “We're going to Farvo,” she’d said.

  “Farvo, but don’t you have to go through the Black Forest to get there?” Hans' eyes were round with alarm.

  “That’s why it’s an adventure, right? We’ll be like the knight Archival who faced the fire-breathing dragon and tamed him.” She’d hoped using his favorite storybook hero would be enough to convince him to come and it had worked.

  Except now he might be trapped inside of some witch’s house, about to face death. Gretel swallowed hard and blinked rapidly, struggling to keep back the tears. What a mess she’d made. But she had to get her brother back, so she pulled the necklace out from under her dress and showed it to Tropie.

  His eyes gleamed and a smile crept over his face revealing his long, pointed teeth. “Lovely,” he purred. “But I can see it means much to you. Perhaps you could just owe me a favor.”

  “A f-favor?” Uncertainty swept through her. It seemed unwise to accept such a deal with this strange creature, but what choice did she have? And besides, she did want to keep her mother’s necklace. “Okay.” Gretel nodded.

  “Excellent!” Tropie whirled about and started heading deeper into the forest. “Follow me and keep up. We must move quickly through this part of the woods.”

  Gretel hurried after him scanning the surroundings, wanting to ask why, but sure she didn’t want to know.

  Twenty minutes later, the trees had gotten so thick, it looked like dusk rather than midday. Tropie halted, stepping in front of Gretel to stop her as well.

  She nearly fell over him. “What is it?”

  “Shhh, she might have her bats guarding it,” Tropie whispered.

  “Guard...bats?” What did they do? Could they hurt people? Goosebumps tingled her skin, and Gretel wrapped her arms around herself.

  Tropie didn’t answer, just nodded. Gretel bit back a gasp. A gaping pit lay before them. If she had taken a step further, she would have fallen in. Bits of sunlight that managed to poke through the thick overhead foliage shone on something long and white.

  “This way,” Tropie whispered. He circled the edge of the pit effortlessly. Gretel swallowed hard and took two steps away from the edge before following him. How could he walk so close to the edge and not even stumble? As they circled the pit, she peered in, straining to see more of what lay below.

  When they had made it halfway around, another bit of sunlight hit something else white. Something small and round and with two circular holes near the top and a triangle-y one in the center. Gretel stopped and covered her mouth, choking back a scream. A skull.

  She took another step away from the pit. Her head spun as fast as her heart raced. She reached out grabbing a wayward tree branch and gripped it, ignoring the rough bark that bit her palm.

  What if she was too late? What if this Sugar Witch had already killed her brother? What would she tell her father? He would never return to normal if something happened to Hans too. She’d be alone for the rest of her life. And it would all be her fault.

  Her knees gave out, the branch she clutched snapping, and she toppled to the ground. Her breath was ragged as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours. Even if she wasn’t too late, what did she expect to do against a witch’s magic? She had no skills, much less magic.

  So lost in her panic, she didn’t notice Tropie come up to her. It wasn’t until he nudged her shoulder that she saw him there.

  “Girl, what is the matter with you?” the cat hissed. “Your brother needs your help. This isn’t the time for a breakdown.”

  “But..but... what, I mean... Wh..what can I do to help him? She has magic... and I... I...” Gretel laughed hoarsely. “I have nothing. I couldn’t even get my father to care about us. How am I going to stop a witch?”

  “You managed to convince me to help you. I wouldn’t say that’s nothing.” Tropie’s eyes narrowed, and Gretel caught a glimpse of something that almost looked like compassion. Did he care about what happened to her?

  “I rarely help anyone,” Tropie sank onto his haunches. He lifted a massive paw and rested it gently on her shoulder. “There’s more than one way to stop a witch, anyway. I’m sure you’ve heard tales of magic-less people outsmarting a witch. That’s all you need to do.”

 

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