At first, their voices are a quiet whine, overlapping like their features. As the whispers grow louder, I understand what they say. "Wel-come Niv-ea. Wel-come Niv-ea." Over and over again, their voices ring in my ears until the words seep into my skin, into my soul. Their chant pulls at me and beckons me to join them under the polished stone reflection. Stay with us for eternity. The meaning behind their welcome reverberates within me. "No!" rips from my throat.

The witch lets out a loud cackle. This, their sudden awareness, has always filled her with triumphant joy. They think death is coming. Now at this moment, they become aware that there's more than death. Though they don't fully understand yet, they feel the coming eternal torture. If only she could stretch out time, hold their initial horror and bask in it longer. How lovely that would be.

I tear my gaze from the bowl's images. "What-why-me?" I stutter.

The wrinkles in her neck stretch as she glares down at me. "Mostly your pretty face, secondly your father's money, and lastly, though unimportant, your name," she says with an exultant tone. "Some tales are based on truth. The name has never matched before." She cackles again. "Until now."

Her words hit me harder than Smith's smacks. Much too late, I understand. The mirror collection, the girl behind the glass, and the antique dealer's words all swirl in my mind behind the meaning of Nivea. In Latin, it means Snow White. It was my mother's favorite fairy tale since her father took her to see it as a little girl. Her love of the movie had sparked my interest in animation. Now, her favorite movie, my name, is going to kill me.

I look at the hag in front of me while the whispering faces call again. I recall her different faces in the mirror and my fate becomes clear. The new clothes in my closet aren't for me. Nor was the regiment of healthy eating. They're for her, for her as me. In this tale, Snow White is going to die-well, having one's soul trapped in a mirror is pretty much death-and this witch will take my body and life until she needs another.

With the weight of the knowledge pushing on my chest, I gasp out, "How?"

"How?" she repeats. "I told you. Beauty is power."

Her words make little sense to me, but my entire body now shakes in horror, a body that will soon belong to her.

The witch looks into the shadows remembering long ago when tools were stone and magic part of life. She'd been ugly and small, but wise and powerful. She doesn't mind sharing her past. The more they understand, the more they suffer.

"When the craftsman laid his masterpiece, the first mirror ever made into a shaman's hands, it whispered to her...'beauty can live forever'." The witch looks at the girl's pretty face, a gift of luck not of merit, and a snarl twists her lips. "Because she knew magic, the shaman recognized the magic in the mirror. Reflection is magic, but the first mirror... soon you will understand the power of the first. It reigns over the rest."

She lifts the lid of a box and pulls out another mirror. Small and etched in gold and silver, she had to have it handmade-the craft of mirror making has waned in this age. She smears a strip of her dying blood across the surface. "Blood powers the magic."

Blood? I watch her walk towards me and that word has me thrashing again. The ropes hold tight. Saggy Mali has the knife in one hand and a new mirror in the other.

She lifts the small mirror. "I commissioned this last year from a jeweler in Italy."

I stare at her cruel smile as her words scorch my brain. Last year, last year, LAST YEAR- "Yes." Her dirty fingers trace the edge of the mirror. "Who would have guessed that the father and daughter I spotted at a quaint restaurant would be so perfect." She smiles again as raw knowledge and fury pound through my veins. "A car crash formed from a bribe."

"Ahhhhhh," I yell and thrash against my bindings. This woman killed my mother. Every part of my body aches with the need to attack her. My fingers dig into the volcanic bowl in my hands. I never truly wanted to hurt another person until now. My breath turns harsh and rage rips through me. I imagine ripping out her eyes, pulling the sagging skin from her face, and plunging the knife into her wizened form. My fingers itch with the vindictive violence of it until I remember someone else and the rage turns into fear. "My father's next isn't he?"

"Of course," she says, showing her now toothless mouth in another grin. "First, I need the power of your soul and the youth of your body...then his wealth."

I shake with indignation. We're just a drop in the long line of her victims. She's like an ancient serial killer.

She sets the new mirror in the snow by my knees and deep inside I feel her power, feel her taking control over me. She moves her lips. I can hear the mumbling, but I can't make out the words. A low hum comes from the bowl. Their whispers match her chant. Louder and louder, the strange words come at me. Her eyes now glow red. They are brighter than the fire. The rise and fall of the flames match the beat of her chant. Although the foreign words mean nothing to me, they're scaring the hell out of me.

Nasty magic words to suck out my soul.

My body twists, jerks on its own, anything to get loose from the stake, anything to get away from her. She lifts the knife. It glows in the light from the fire. Her triumphant eyes form into slits. Her shadow, long and hunched, across the snow repeats the truth of her form. She is a witch.

A scream catches in my throat.

A surge of exhilaration fills the witch as she looks down at the cowering girl. Blue eyes, large and filled with tears, stare up at her. Eyes that will soon be hers. Eyes that should be hers. She lowers the knife with a slash and continues the incantation as the power of envy swirls within her.

I flinch as the knife slices my wrists. In one swipe, she draws blood on both of them. Red liquid drips onto the snow beneath-scarlet on a white backdrop-and the building scream rips out of me at the sight. Long and high-pitched my voice fights with the wind until I slump forward.

Ignoring my scream, she uses the bowl to collect drips of liquid from my wrists before setting the blood-smeared bowl into my hands. Slumped forward I watch her throw off the dirty fur coat. Underneath she wears a plain brown shift over her twisted form. She chants again and I feel it. My spirit moves. Rays of light shine out of the bowl in my hands and the voices inside call out to me. "Come," they say, pulling me. Her never-ending chant pulls at me. Even the beat of the flames pull at me.

A wet stream runs down my face. Soon, I'll be forever behind glass. There are no happily-ever-afters. The proof-their souls-lies in my hands. Like them, I'll be a slave behind glass. There is no prince. In hysteria, I think I'd kiss a million frogs to be free. There will be no kisses. No one will wake me from my stupor ever again.

Staring at the pool of blood in the ancient mirror, I gaze at death and the memory of Jai's kiss burns bright. I use his kiss to shut out the cold at my back, the heat of the fire on my face, the despair growing inside of me, and her chant above me. Desperate to remain myself, I imagine the touch of his lips. I can't stop her from taking my body, but at least its last sigh will be for him, my eternal thoughts under glass of him.

The witch watches the girl's internal struggle, feels her own soul shift. A cackle comes out between the ancient words. The girl can try to fight. She will not win. She raises her voice and cuts her own wrists. After setting the knife's blade in the fire, she lets the blood drip from her skin. Drip into the bowl and mix with the girl's. She begins the last lines, begins the glorious change. The shift of her own soul.

The pull on my soul is strong as her blood drips before my eyes. I have to go. I want to go. Memories fade and only the need to go behind the glass remains. She plucks the hot, red blade from the fire and raises the knife above her. Three last ancient words come out of her mouth in a hiss before she plunges the knife into her chest. A sizzle sounds and blood sprays across the snow.

Yes, she is coming. At last. I'm going under the glass my soul sings just as a boy appears in the shadows beyond the fire.

Chapter 46*Snow.

"Nivi!" he yells but somehow the wind catches my name and twists it into a whisper. I can see him from where I float above the fire. Hear the sigh of my name from below and my soul wavers. He races through the smoke and a reminiscence of longing flares. Shadowy memories piece together. The curve of his smile, tenderness in his dark gaze, and the warmth of his embrace break through-like fuzz on a radio-the ancient words holding me. Jai my soul whispers to me. My body below trembles with consciousness, with the truth of being me.

Yet the lure of the mirror, the lure of her words, and the lure of our mixed blood still pull at my soul. Luckily, he doesn't go after her rather plucks the mirror from my hands and my soul plunges into me with a gasp. The fire's now before me instead of under me. I can feel the cold again and the sting of the cuts on my wrists.

The joy of being in my own body is cut short as Mali's chant ends with an earsplitting wail. Her hands let go of the knife at her chest and she stumbles. Rage lines her wrinkles as she stares at Jai. Her fingers curl like claws toward the bowl. Her lips twist into a snarl and gums snap. "Give it to me."

Jai steps back and terror runs through me. My fear isn't for me. Instinctively, more than her explanation, I know that bowl is the source of her power. And she'll do anything to get it.

Even though a blood covered knife juts from her chest, she leaps at him. Jai blocks her enraged blows, but a swipe still gouges his cheek. She keeps attacking him until he knocks her back with a forearm and she plummets into the snow. I let go of the breath I'd been holding but she's up in seconds, tearing and scratching the arm holding the mirror. Jai spins away from her. She dives at him. He kicks out and her claws seize his wounded leg. His jaw turns hard.

The fire illuminates their strange pose. The bowl is in his out stretched hand. His body, except for his good leg on the ground, is one long horizontal line with Mali curled around his injury. Her claws dig deeper into his stitches and he screams.

I shudder at the sound.

It echoes through the forest as they drop together in a heap. Snow crunches as they roll toward the fire. Arms, legs, and the bowl move in a tumbling mass until they stop just short of the flames. Mali lands on top. Her gnarled hands wrap around Jai's neck and she growls in glee. He gasps and bucks but doesn't break free. The wrinkles in her face tighten along with her fingers around his throat.

"Stop! Let him go!" I yell even though I know my cries are useless. The bindings tear and scrape at my skin as I scream and twist. "No! No! No!" I keep yelling while Jai turns a bluish tinge. I was supposed to die not him.

Then his arm slowly lifts the stone mirror at his side until its in her view. Seeing it, she pauses squeezing the life out of him and stares at the stone.

Knowledge hits me like a hammer and I gasp, "Throw it in the fire!"

His fingers toss it into the flames.

"Nooooo!" she shrieks and jumps into the blaze after it. She bends and digs through burning wood and hot coals. Flames lick her body as she rises within the inferno. Her arm extends and the bowl flies out of the fire.

Sizzling, the volcanic rock melts into the snow.

Holding his throat and gasping, Jai sits up.

We watch her staggering in the fire. Though the flames reach past her height, I'm not sure if the blaze can kill her. Her blade didn't. She weaves and stumbles, drops on her hands and knees. Flames grow, the wind howls, and thick smoke billows. Her bright silhouette collapses in the center causing the fire to roar then rupture. Sparks shoot through the air like a burst of fireworks and land in the snow with a sizzle. My eyes round at the sight of her exploding in the flames as Jai rushes over, shielding me from the hot embers with his body.

But I can't look away.

Beyond his shoulder, the fire howls, blares with light that brightens the dark forest for a brilliant, vivid second before fading just as fast.

In the sudden silence, I search the flames for her shape. I can't see anything and strangely, the scent of burning flesh is absent. Yet, I stare at the blaze unsure if this nightmare is truly over, if reality has finally come.

Jai stands on wobbly legs. "Are you okay?" His dark eyes roam over my face.

I remember Mali's knife cutting me and thinking the prince didn't exist. But here he is beaten and beautiful and standing before me. But unlike a fairy tale he saved me with more than a kiss, he almost forfeited his life. Like the idiot I am, I start crying again.

"Oh Nivi," he says with a sweet sigh and falls to his knees. His hug is almost bruising as his grip digs into my back. I don't complain. He buries his face in my neck. "I didn't know if I'd make it in time," he whispers across my skin.

With his warm breath in my ear and his arms around me, I finally realize we're going to live. This is real. It isn't an illusion my body less mind has conjured up. Laughter and more tears spill out of me. He did it. He saved me. "What took you so long?" I ask jokingly.

With his arms still around me, he pulls back a bit. "It was easy to track them in the daylight. At night it became harder. Where is Smith?"

I recall their tussle and the sound of male screams. I motion to the fire with my eyes. Jai turns. For a moment, we both stare at the now low flames blowing with the slight breeze. Half as high, the blaze has ended two lives on this cold night, and neither by our hand. Our gazes lock. There'll be no mourning for what the fire has taken.

Jai tugs at my bindings. "I think they zigzagged all over with the snowmobiles to stop anyone from following them."

"I don't remember."

He tears off a long piece of duct tape. "Luckily, I found their deserted car."

I wince more at the blood soaking the side leg of his jeans more than the tear of tape on my arms. "How far are we away from the cabin?" My hands come free with a sharp tingling sensation.

He bends behind me and tugs at the plastic on my ankles. "Six, maybe seven miles," he says.

While I stand with shaky legs, he yanks at the ropes. Seven miles through snow, covered mountainous terrain is a feat. But with an injured leg? "Are you okay?"

"Me?" He glances up at me. "My leg hurts like hell, but I'm not the one who was almost sacrificed." He unravels the rope crisscrossing my chest. "You were right. Something was very wrong with your step-mom and her mirrors." The rope falls on the pile of plastic and duct tape at our feet.

"Yeah, like ancient magic wrong." I don't feel like adding I told you so.

Now that I'm free of all my bindings, he drags me into his arms again. We hug for a long time in the flickering shadows. His strength flows into me. It warms my cold skin and calms my frightened soul. Strangely, I feel content in the freezing air next to a burning fire on the side of a mountain where I almost lost my soul.

He breaks the silence with a question. "What did she want?"

I bury my face deeper into his shoulder. "Everything, my soul forever, my body for the next twenty years or so," I mumble against him. He hugs me tighter, doesn't question my words. I'm sure he's seen enough to believe.

"Hey, the key's still in the ignition." His chin bumps my head as he nods in direction of the snowmobiles.

I lean back and wince at the new scratches on his face and neck. "Can you drive it?"

"I think so. It should be similar to a motorcycle." Tugging off his coat, he says, "Here, take this."

I shake my head. "You'll be too cold."

He points at himself. "I've got two of your sweatshirts on and long johns. You just have one."

I glance at the Powerpuff Girls-he must have found my stash of sweatshirts at the cabin-on his chest before taking the coat with a grin. "That shirt does something for you."

He grins back with a shake of his head.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and screams through the trees. The force whips at our hair and clothes. We look at each other in confusion then at the whirling fire.

Spinning in a circle, the flames begin to grow.

Jai pushes me toward the vehicle, but I stare at the strange glow while dread pounds through my veins. The swirling blaze builds until it creates a pillar. Flames twist and turn into growing ribbons of fire. Reaching toward the dark sky, they grow higher than the trees and the forest around us becomes brighter than midday.

At the top, a dark shadow spews into the night.

Chapter 47*Snow.

Black and translucent like a toxic gas, she spills from the column. Between the cracking flames and the wind, I can't hear anything else. Jai's mouth moves in the bright light, but the wind catches his words. His hands push at me. I stare at the pillar. He now tugs me, but I stumble into the snow, fall into the cold. The ice on my cut wrists rouses me more than his grip.

Though impossible, she's still coming for me. Fear explodes in me. I jump up and run to the pile of rope.

"What are you doing?" Jai yells into my face as I kneel. "Let's go!"

"Tape! I need tape," I shout back. "Her soul enters through the cut," I show him a bloody wrist, "and mine leaves through the other."

Jai immediately kneels in the snow and helps me search. The wind strengthens as we find two long strips of duct tape. Somehow, we stick them across the gashes on my skin while the wind tries to snatch the tape free from our fingers.

As we stand, the blaze crumbles and shadows grow back across the forest. The black scepter above breaks free with the strongest scream of wind yet as a cloud of evil descends in a loud shriek.

My own shriek of terror mixes with hers as we run to the snowmobile. I can feel her presence as wispy tendrils reach for me, slither ice down my back. We're almost to the snow machine when the darkness overwhelms me.

Everything goes black as evil touches my skin, fills my nose, and pounds into my chest. Pain explodes across my skull. Air disintegrates. Lungs burn. I reach for Jai, but my body trembles with spasms. My arms twitch and twitch and twitch. The tape flaps against my skin. I can't get out. I'm frozen inside my own body.

In the darkness, hands find me. A strong grip heaves me forward. My head collides with a chest. Arms reach across me. Then I hear the faint roar of an engine. With a swoosh across the snow, we're out of the vile shadow. I'm sitting in front of him and the engine now booms in my ears.

"Hang on!" Jai yells.

My fingers dig into the vinyl edge of the seat and I crouch so he can see. Dark without the light of the fire, the outline of evergreens whiz by as we fly down the mountain. Dread courses through me while I manage to follow the movements of Jai's body. We zip around an evergreen before I look over his shoulder.

Above us, black mist flies through the trees like a dark cape dragging tendrils in the wind.

"Go faster!" I shout.

Jai pushes the throttle.

A huge tree stands in our path. We lean left and miss the trunk by an inch. Next, a hill of snow looms ahead. Jai doesn't arc around it. Instead, he pushes the throttle in more. We hit the incline and fly through the air. The nose of the machine lifts. Jai taps the break with his other thumb.