Macster - The Missing Links

Lifting the cellar door, the Queen swung the oaken panel wide, sending billows of dust flowing around her, but she barely noticed. The two servants behind her coughed loudly. Ignoring them, she grabbed a lamp and held it out as she descended purposefully along the cellar steps.

Cobwebs and dust and darkness, the few windows to the outside opening only onto a dark starlit sky streaked by the fading rays of sunset. The place smelled of damp and rot. It had been a long time since anyone had been down here. She shivered slightly. It was cold as well.

She could feel the servants' fear behind her. But she knew better than to fear. Fear was a useless emotion, except when motivating others. Besides, she knew what she was looking for. Even now, she could still hear the stepmother's voice, charging her with her mission, offering her the means to perform it...

I am dead...but my work is unfinished. The House of Snow White survives. You must complete that work. In the ruins of my castle, you will find the source of my power.

Passing through vaulted arches and down dank, dripping corridors, she at last arrived at the lowest point in the cellar, almost a crypt. A vast expanse of smooth, packed-down dirt spread before her, with only a small, upraised stone shaped like a five-pointed star to break up the monotony. Striding forward, the queen stepped up onto the stone and gazed down at the dirt floor, preparing herself for the ritual that would reawaken the power. Then she stepped out again, following one of the star's points, carefully measuring her paces. When she had reached the proper spot, she lowered one of the five leaded-glass lanterns she carried in her other hand, letting its chain fall to the ground.

Remaining the same distance from the star, she circled it, placing another lantern at each of the points. When all the lanterns had been set in place, she returned to the stone and pointed imperiously at the first flickering light.

The servants glanced at her as if they didn't believe what she wanted. But she had briefed them before they came. They lifted their shovels, moved the first lantern aside, and dug beneath it, carefully, just as she had explained.

It only took a few moments to unearth the mirror from its shallow grave. One of the men went to pull it out, but she held out a hand, stopping him. It was better to remove them all at once.

The servants dug the second hole, then the third, fourth, and fifth, spading the dirt away, unearthing the remaining mirrors. As they did so, the queen breathed deeply, memories stirring of the power and she who had bequeathed it to her. These are my gifts. They give you my power...

She curled her lips in satisfaction and nodded to the servants, allowing them to bring the mirrors forth. Each mirror was ancient, and each was different, a product of its time. Some had metal frames, some wooden. One was smaller than the others and yet she could feel its magic. As each was raised, she recalled the stepmother's grating voice, describing their powers...

The first arose, golden and rectangular, decorated by round, wheel-like ornaments.

Mirrors to travel...

And another, oval-shaped and massive in its wrought-iron frame.

Mirrors to spy...

And another, tall and narrow, its oaken frame carved to resemble leafy vines.

Mirrors to remember...

And another, heavy maple carved into the shape of intertwined serpents.

Mirrors to forget...

And the last, diamond-shaped in a frame of finest silver.

Mirrors to rule the world.

The queen stared at them all, still covered with dirt, and longed to have them in the privacy of her own room. She smiled at her own reflection presented in all five mirrors, let out a relieved sigh, and said, "It's so good to have the power back."