Mary-Cade Mandus - The Spell Bound

After Torin had left for Hubbardville, their mother had sent him to a neighbor’s with a bushel basket of apples deemed too bruised and soft for market. Returning to the house for lunch he’d entered the kitchen fully expecting to find his parents and little sister already sitting at the table; instead he’d found it deserted. Places had been set, glasses filled, and food was steaming on the stove. [Incongruously a plate of half gnawed bones had been placed at the table’s end.]

Something had not felt right about the emptiness. Although its occupants might be away, an essence of life usually remains in a vacant house or room, but this was too empty…too complete a void, as though the house knew for certain no one was coming back. And Rufus, where was he? The dog should have met him coming through the gate.

With unease growing worse by the minute he’d run outside and searched the various outbuildings for his missing family. Coming from the barn he’d glimpsed a figure in the distance crossing behind the house from the orchard. His heart had lifted a little and he ran after and saw it was a woman dressed in a long flowing green cloak her arms bent in front as though carrying something. She had been heading toward a seldom-used access road and was totally oblivious to his approach. In a few minutes she had rounded a bend and disappeared from view. Following, he’d been flabbergasted to see a coach - a coach bearing the House of White royal crest.

She was halfway to the coach when, swallowing his surprise he’d cried out to gain her attention and sprinted forward. In that second she’d turned and he had gotten a good look at her face. It was Queen Christine! Prince Wendell’s evil stepmother! He’d recognized her for she had been by the late king’s side when he’d awarded the Kingdom’s stamp of excellence to his grandmother Merry Pip for her exemplary apples. [His grandmother had wept with pride because for many years apples had borne an unsavory reputation and this honor bestowed by Snow White’s own son had made them respectable again. From that day on the Pips had borne the royal seal on their produce labels.]

But it couldn’t be the queen, she’d been sent to prison the year his little sister Mattie had been born!

He’d skidded to a stop almost falling in the dirt at her feet. An icy mask had slid over the Queen’s beautiful face when she saw him wavering there. She’d regarded him arrogantly and one hand had slowly caressed the large box in her arms. The gesture and her expression had caused a shiver to worm down his spine. He’d licked his dry lips, introduced himself and nervously begging her pardon had asked if she’d seen his family, for they’d seemed to have disappeared. Her eyes had glazed over like a lizards and her lips had moved as though in answer but he’d heard no words issue, only the brittle laugh she gave as she’d turned her back and continued toward the waiting coach. She’d ascended the stairs and entered the coach without sparing him a second glance.

Bewildered, he’d watched the coach disappear, then had started back towards the farm, but something had been wrong with his feet. There’d seemed to be too many of them. Looking down his heart had skipped a beat and he’d almost fainted on the spot. Pulling himself together he’d raced towards the orchard and straight into an irrigation ditch. The face that had been reflected in the water was no longer human. He’d still been standing there when Torin found him.

His attempts to communicate the change to his distraught brother had been almost comical, and he could laugh about it now, but at the time he’d been scared to death. Unused to his new limbs he’d had great difficulty in using his hoof to write his name in the mud. But after many false starts had been able to carve out the first six letters, enough to convince Torin that he was indeed his brother. Later, after weeping over their loss they had set off to search again for some sign of their family, although by that time it had become clear to both that it would be futile. They just hadn’t been ready to give up hope.

Deep in the orchard they’d made a shocking discovery, a group of dead trolls. Only one of the bodies had borne an outward sign of violence - the corpse had been beheaded. Looking upon the body, Fortenbrass had had a terrible feeling that he now knew what had been inside the Queen’s mysterious box.

They’d discovered no clues as to the whereabouts of their parents and sister and a few weeks later heard rumors that a young girl who was now being heralded throughout the Nine Kingdoms as the Sixth Great Woman had killed the Queen. The rumor had proved to be true and with the Queen’s death went their only hope of ever learning their loved ones’ fate or restoring Fortenbrass to his human form.

Unable to stay with the memories the farm evoked, they’d left and set out to drift rootlessly through the Kingdoms. During their travels they had searched out witches, gypsies, potions and spells in attempts to counteract the Queen’s curse but to no avail until that amazing and dreadful night in Nod.