Once Upon the End (Half Upon a Time) (7 page)

CHAPTER 12

T
he sandcast— the
castle
of
sand
was empty. May probably could have seen that from the outside, given that it was made of glass. But all the swirling sand gave her a headache. Where was the Sandman, anyway? Out writing nightmares?

She made her way through the glass castle, searching for a dungeon or a cloudy room or something where the Fairest might be held. Where would one hide something in a glass castle? One wouldn’t, probably, just like one hopefully wouldn’t throw stones (she laughed to herself at that, then rolled her eyes), but that answer didn’t get her anywhere, besides to maybe a more logical world to live in. But to be honest,
that
wasn’t happening any time soon.

The castle looked bigger on the outside than the inside . . . either that, or she was just a lot quicker than she thought, because she managed to walk through the entire thing within seconds. Seconds? Wait, it couldn’t be
that
small.

But this
was
a dream, and dreams went by much faster, didn’t they?

If only she could fast-forward to the point where she found the Fairest.

“She belongs to me,” said a glassy voice behind her, and she whirled around to find the Sandman, with what looked like a newly sculpted glass plug keeping his sand inside his glass body.

“Why do you always appear right behind me, anyway?” May said, pushing her hands into her sand-full pockets.

“Sleep always catches one unawares,” the Sandman said, tilting his head a bit.

“Oh, aren’t we proud of that little line,” May said. “You think you’re so smart? Maybe you should . . . take a FALL!” And with that, she tossed a pile of sand into his face.

Had her comment made sense? She’d better clarify. “As in, FALL ASLEEP!” There.

The Sandman brushed the sand from his face and looked at
her curiously. “I’m not entirely sure what you hoped to accomplish.
But I do not have time to play your games. Shall we take a look through your nightmares again?”

And the castle disappeared, only for May to smooth a long, blue gown over herself. “But I couldn’t possibly!” she said to Merriweather, who stared down at May with a loving smile. “This gown is far too nice for someone like me!”

“You need to look pretty if you wish to impress the prince,” Merriweather said. “And I’m here to help with that, to help you get away from this life!”

May felt the fabric between her fingers dreamily, then abruptly screamed, long and loud. “Are you KIDDING me?!” she shouted, throwing the dress at Merriweather. “THIS?! You’re not making me live this, NO ONE is making me live this! I’m NOT Cinderella, I don’t care about a stupid dress or some prince, and this is not who I
am
!”

“Isn’t it?” the man of sand said, and May stood at the top of an elaborate set of marble steps leading down into the most beautiful ballroom she’d ever seen. She, like the dancers below her, wore a mask to hide her identity. These masquerade balls were such fun, and she’d wished for so long that she might attend one. To be here, to perhaps be near the prince . . . !

But would that ever happen? From her vantage point atop the stairs, she could see her prince, swirling around in a dance with a girl in a large pink dress, one that looked like it’d taken a bit of magic to make itself. She looked down at her own blue dress and marveled at its magnificence once more. Only a fairy queen could create something so beautiful.

NO. SERIOUSLY, DRESSES?! She growled and kicked both glass slippers off her feet, which hit the dance floor below, shattering into a thousand pieces. “I DARE YOU TO MAKE ME TRY THOSE ON LATER!” she screamed as loudly as she could. “I
DARE
YOU!”

The crowd parted all the way to the prince, who broke off his dance with the girl in pink. His mask, a large double-diamond-shaped covering, hid his entire face behind it as well as most of his hair. He held out his hand to her and, in a familiar voice, said, “You should embrace who you are. Your dreams show you the real you.”

May picked up one of the bigger shards of her slipper and threw it like a baseball at the prince. “I am who I SAY I am!” She picked up more of the rounder shards and threw each of them as she yelled. “I! AM! NOT! CINDERELLA!”

The prince caught each shard, then pushed them together in his hands. A moment later, he bent down on one knee, opening his hands to reveal a glass slipper. “If the shoe fits, May.”

And that’s when May recognized the voice.

It was Phillip’s.

No. NO! The dream was in her head, and she didn’t know who the prince was, so she was just giving him Phillip’s voice. It couldn’t be, he was from “Sleeping Beauty,” and she was from “Cinderella.” It didn’t make sense; he couldn’t be the prince, he was in the completely wrong story . . . wasn’t he?

This was the worst nightmare yet!

She furiously dug her hands into her pockets, her dress morphing back into her regular jeans and T-shirt as she did, and pulled out a handful of sand. “I will make my
own
story, Sandman!” she yelled. “And no one else gets to write it for me!” Then she threw the sand in an arc in front of her, spraying it throughout the ballroom.

The dance disappeared, and May looked up from a movie camera, surveying the scene. “No, no,” she said, gesturing for the boy wearing the name tag
sandman
to move left. “You’re too close. Back it up a little, I want to pull out a bit.”

The boy moved to the left. “Here?” he asked.

May looked back into the video camera. “Yeah, that works.” She looked back out. “You.” She pointed at the girl wearing the name tag
fairest
. “Get away from him. Actually, come over here.” She waved for Fairest to come back behind the camera. “Now, Sandman. I want to see you angry. You’ve just lost your prisoner to the amazing and wonderful heroine.” May pointed at the girl with a blue streak in her blond hair, wearing a name tag that said
heroine
.

“And can we get her some more weapons? I wouldn’t mind if she had, like, two swords, one for each hand.”

A man with a white circle on his chest popped out and handed Heroine two swords. Heroine took one in each hand, then aimed them both at Sandman. “Everyone ready?” May asked, looking back behind the camera. “Heroine, this is the scene where you defeat Sandman. And . . . ACTION!”

“You cannot win that way,” the glass man told her, and the actors disappeared as the Sandman advanced on her. “I will not allow you to use my world against me anymore.”

May threw sand again, and bottle after bottle of caffeine-filled soda rained down on them, threatening to keep the Sandman (and sleep) away forever, only to disappear immediately as the glass man waved a hand. “I will lock you in nightmares that you’ll
never
wake from,” he told her, taking another step closer.

More sand, and this time a thousand armed marines appeared between them and disappeared just as quickly. “I will hold you prisoner until your body withers away,” the glass man said, his voice rising in anger. “Your mind will be trapped here until the end of time. I will—”

“Hold up,” May said, noticing something for the first time. She hadn’t been close enough to see before, or hadn’t looked, but there it was. The man had sand everywhere in his body . . . everywhere except his eyes.

May’s mouth dropped. “Oh,
gross
.”

“What—” the man of glass said, but May concentrated, throwing the last of her sand, and suddenly the scene shifted so that she was behind him. She concentrated, and Heroine’s swords appeared in her hands.

Then she drove one of the sword’s hilt into the back of the Sandman’s head on the right side and heard a strange popping noise. She quickly dove forward, catching the Sandman’s right glass eye, then rolled out of his way as he began to scream.

“The Fairest is in the eye of the beholder?!” May shouted at him, showing him his own eye. “Are you
kidding
me?” That phrase didn’t sound exactly right, but she figured it was close enough. She held the eye up to hers, where she could clearly see . . . something inside. Maybe even something moving.

Again,
gross
.

“You will give that back or—”

“Nah,” May said, a swirling feeling pulling her away from here. She smiled at the glass man. “Looks like my ride’s here. I’m going to go wake up, but you have yourself some sweet dreams!”

And with that, the scene changed one last time.

Only, May didn’t find herself back in Malevolent’s castle.

Instead, she found herself back beneath an oak tree, in a field of grass with a warm wind blowing.

This time, there was no Charmed One.

There was, however, a Jack sitting beneath the tree.

CHAPTER 13

P
enelope tipped forward, dragging Phillip to the ground as the flames burned through the air just above them. Stones from the demolished roof offered a bit of cover, but not enough.

“Staying down would probably be a good idea for a second,”
the princess told him, but Phillip shook his head, even as Malev
olent flapped her wings, coming around to get a more direct angle at them.

This was it. He had known it was coming ever since the Wicked Queen had promised that one would betray May, and one would die. And since he would never betray May, die it was.

But that was not the only prophecy at play here.

“Malevolent!” Phillip shouted, standing in the midst of blackened stone, his sword aimed at the dragon. “It is time!”

The dragon shrieked in rage and dove directly at him. Penelope tried to yank Phillip back down, but he pulled himself from her grasp, his sword ready for the dragon. He would die, of course. But he would take this demon with him.

Malevolent’s jaws opened wide, but Phillip swung out with his sword, cutting the dragon inside her mouth. The dragon screamed in pain and lost control, one of her wings slamming Phillip full in the chest, sending him flying across the castle’s roof. Malevolent hit the castle hard as well, coming to a halt only a few yards from the prince, who was having trouble seeing straight.

Phillip tried to stand, but the roof swayed dizzily, and he ended up on one knee. The dragon, meanwhile, had no such trouble and was quickly back up on her feet, her snakelike neck weaving in a way that the prince had trouble following.

“You are
nothing
,” Malevolent spat, then snapped at one of Phillip’s shoulders too fast for him to follow. Pain filled his arm, and he almost dropped his sword but managed to swing it, far too late to do any good, as the dragon’s head had snaked away.

“You think to fight
me
?! One of the thirteen?” Malevolent laughed, low and without any humor. Her head snapped out again, and pain filled his other shoulder. Both arms went numb, and the prince dropped to his knees, barely managing to keep ahold of the sword’s hilt as the blade hit the roof hard.

“I think . . . exactly that,” Phillip said, pushing himself to his feet, gritting his teeth and struggling to hold his sword up. A wing lashed out, sending him flying across the roof again, and this time he lost the sword completely. It fell away, but it was all Phillip could do to stay conscious.

“I need no magic to end you,” Malevolent said, almost slithering across the roof after him. “To think I feared you all this time! You, some simple human, some powerless boy! The Mirror could not have been more wrong!”

“You may . . . kill me,” Phillip said, breath coming a lot harder to him than it should have. “But the Mirror . . . did not lie. I will take you . . .
with
me.” How exactly he would do that, he was not certain, though. Standing at this moment did not seem possible, let alone holding a sword. Wherever it was.

Talons as sharp as his missing sword dug into him, and suddenly he was flying high above the castle. He struggled against the dragon’s claws, but he was far too weak, and the dragon was much too strong.

“Shall I drop you, little Prince?” Malevolent said, flying higher and higher. “Shall you plummet to your doom?” She let him go, and plummet he did, the wind whipping by so fast he could not breathe.

He glanced down and saw Penelope staring at him, something in her hand. Was it his sword? No . . . it was smaller, and the wrong color. She was screaming something, but the wind was too loud—he could not hear. Not that it would matter in a moment when he hit the castle.

But the moment passed, and again he felt the dragon’s claws digging into his sides. His fall slowed but did not stop as the dragon tossed him to the roof, which he hit hard, knocking what wind remained right out of his lungs. He rolled as he hit, struggling not to black out as the edge grew closer and closer, only to stop just inches from his face.

“Shall I rip you to shreds with my teeth?” the dragon said, and he felt hot breath on the back of his neck. Something impossibly sharp touched his skin, and he tried to roll to the side, away from her jaws, but he was far too slow. Malevolent toyed with him, snapping just inches from his face, then his heart, then his face again.

“These deaths seem much too quick, little Prince,” she said, her eyes blacker than her shining skin. “No, I believe you and your princess should burn instead, knowing that this finally makes us even for what your fathers did.”

Phillip watched the dragon rise into the air, higher and higher, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move, and if he did, he would probably just end up falling off the side of the castle. Malevolent circled higher and higher, getting enough elevation to follow him and Penelope wherever they might hide, wherever they might run.

“What are you
doing
?!” the princess said, skidding to a stop at his side. “Why aren’t you letting me handle this?!”

“. . . I am sorry?” Phillip said, sincerely confused. What was she talking about? “Please, help me up. I will perish doing so, but I am destined to destroy her, so I must fight.”

Penelope just stared at him for a second, touching his face, with a tiny smile.

Then she slapped him.

“Not everything’s about you,” she told him, standing up. She pulled out the object Phillip had mistaken for his sword while falling a few moments ago and smiled at him again. “She’s mine, Your Highness. She’s
always
been mine. After what she’s done to me? Are you kidding?”

Above them both, Malevolent circled once more, rising as far as she meant to go, then turned and began her dive, flames spilling out of her mouth like water.

“You curse me?” Penelope shouted at the descending dragon, holding a wooden spindle to her hand. “Because you feel left out, you hurt people I love? You take my family away? You take my
life
?!”

She stabbed the spindle right into her palm. “Let me return the favor,” Penelope whispered, then collapsed to the roof, instantly asleep.

She’d voluntarily cursed herself again! Phillip was immune, given that the fairy queens who had protected the girl from the original curse had needed him to wake her up. So he stayed wide awake.

Malevolent and everyone else within the curse’s range were not so lucky.

The dragon shook, looking confused for a moment before the spell took over completely, sending the now-sleeping Malevolent into a dive. Phillip pushed himself to his feet, then picked Penelope up in his arms and dove out of the way of the plummeting dragon.

Malevolent hit the roof like a cannonball, taking Phillip, Penelope, and half the castle’s roof with her. The prince hit the floor below hard, cradling Penelope in his arms as the dragon continued on, crashing through floor after floor, rubble collapsing in after her as she went, finally coming to a stop at the very bottom of the castle, from the sound of it.

Phillip held Penelope close until the rumbling stopped, then looked up to find his sword embedded in some rubble just inches from his head.

Apparently he wasn’t meant to die just yet.

Though had it ever been
close
.