Macster - The Missing Links

Holding her nose against the stench, Virginia picked her way through the boggy mire of the Deadly Swamp, trying not to sink her boots in the muck as she steered her path toward a reed-strewn, hummock-like island barely visible through the mist. She had called out for her father until her voice had grown hoarse, but there had been no answer. The fairies had separated them, all right, so far that they couldn't find each other. But after a while she had gone on, goaded by some inner sense. Despite how frightening and weird this swamp was, she knew what she was looking for was here.

For a long time, the mist swirled sluggishly around her, and she just put one foot in front of the other, wading through the swamp. Then, after about half an hour, the mist began to thin. Ahead, she saw what looked like a mirror graveyard. Ancient mirrors and shards of mirrors protruded from the swamp. It was like the Dwarves' hall of mirrors, only polluted somehow. Polluted and dead and dark.

Most of the mirrors were black and covered in slime. As she came up to them, she heard incoherent voices emanating from the mirrors. Some of the voices were harsh and rasping, others were sly and beckoning. Only a few were soft and seductive.

Shuddering, she looked past the mirrors. There, in the center of the tiny island, was a wooden shack with a rotting thatched roof. There was a single window set in the door, and the light inside illuminated a terrifying shadowy figure huddled over what looked like a bubbing cauldron.

Virginia froze, then slowly began to sidle past the island.

"Stay where you are, or I'll shove you in my pot!" a voice announced.

"Oh, my God, the Swamp Witch," she whimpered to herself.

Suddenly the door flung open, and a short, hunched, wizened figure appeared, silhouetted against the light inside and bearing a lantern. "Who dares enter the domain of the Swamp Witch?" it intoned, waving its free hand as if about to cast a spell.

Virginia felt like falling on her knees in the muck and begging for mercy. She settled for stepping closer and clasping her hands futilely. "Please, don't hurt me, I'm just--" Then she got a better look at the figure and frowned. "Acorn?"

The figure let out a grunt of annoyance, then pulled off its bad black wig made of string and rope to reveal the familiar scarred face of the Dwarf. "Oh, hello."

Relief flooded through Virginia, and she stumbled forward, climbing out of the swamp onto the island. "Hi!"

Acorn grinned amiably up at her. "Long time no see!" He raised an eyebrow. "You still looking for your mirror?"

Virginia rolled her eyes. "No, that one got smashed. We're looking for another one." She looked around at the murky water, weed-choked islands, and looming tree trunks. "You haven't seen my father walking around here, have you? He might have been singing 'A Whiter Shade of Pale'."

As she'd expected, Acorn merely gave her a puzzled look. "No." He gestured into the shack. "Come in, I was just making some soup."

She entered the shack, but then Virginia found herself wondering if that was wise. It was tiny and the wood was rotted, but the place was full of stuff. Bottles and jars of potions. There was a noxious odor that seemed built into the place. Black candles gave off what passed for light, dripping like huge stalagmites, staining the floor.

Acorn led her to a rough wooden table and brought her a bowl of soup and a mug of his own brew, which nearly made her choke with its heady and overwhelming taste. But she drank it anyway, then began eating the soup ravenously. When she had finished, she smiled up at the dwarf. "I really thought you were the Swamp Witch out there."

"No, she's been dead for years," Acorn said. "This is a great place to lie low when you're on the run. Nobody bothers you."

Virginia didn't think it was a great place to stay. She wasn't sure how long she could stand to be here. And she could see why no one would bother Acorn here. But she didn't want to offend him. Instead, she asked, "So who was this Swamp Witch?"

"Who was she?" Acorn asked, clearly surprised at the question. "I thought everyone knew. Well, you know the story of Snow White?"

Virginia smiled. "From the horse's mouth, actually."

Acorn stared at her, stunned, and Virginia's smile vanished. She waved the matter aside and urged him to continue.

"Well, the Swamp Witch was the wicked stepmother who tried to kill her. This was where she crawled to after they made her dance in the red-hot slippers. She spent the rest of her life plotting revenge, but she was too weak to carry it out. Then she found someone to do it for her."

Virginia had a horrible feeling he was talking about her mother. She shifted in her seat, becoming more and more afraid as she learned the history of this shack.

"And who was that?" Virginia asked.

Acorn grinned and nodded toward a rotting, cobweb-strewn trapdoor in the corner behind her. "The Swamp Witch is buried in the basement. Why don't you go and ask her?"

Virginia would do nothing of the sort, even assuming the stepmother would bother to talk to her enemy. But at the same time she felt compelled to go into the basement. And then she remembered Snow White's words in the dream, and suddenly she knew why this had to be.

She shuddered and then rose from the table. She crossed the creaking floor to the trapdoor and set her hands on the handles.

"Maybe what you seek," Acorn hissed behind her, "is down there."

Virginia whirled and tried to still the beating of her heart. "What does that mean?"

The dwarf shrugged. "I don't know. I just always wanted to say it." He chuckled, but then gave her a serious look. "Personally, I wouldn't go down in that cellar for all the gold in the Nine Kingdoms."

Neither would she. But it wasn't for all the gold in the Kingdoms that she would go down there, it was to save them from the Queen's--her mother's--evil plans, and to find the way to face her mother again.

Taking a deep breath, Virginia pulled back the halves of the trapdoor. The odor of still water and mold and rotted flesh rose up out of the depths. But she couldn't turn back now.

She paused to fetch a candleholder and light the candle before she walked down the creaky steps into the darkness.