A Mirror...A Mouse

His feet flip-flopped, his belly danced side to side, his fat hands hung at his sides, his great neck supported a big head with big eyes and a big mustache that covered a big upper lip. He had buck teeth. An attendant walked on his left and another on his right, he paid no attention to either.
"Everything must be ready on time! Everything," he said.
"Where is His Highness," he asked.
"In his room, Your Grace," replied both attendants.
"Yes," said His Grace, "Yes. I will check on him at once."
The attendants followed His Grace.

A knock against the door warned His Highness that he had a visitor. He ignored it and again a knock. He ignored it. Again a knock followed the first and second to be the third against the door. Again His Highness ignored it.
"Your Highness," said His Grace from the door's other side.
"Your Highness," said his attendants.
His Highness stood in front of a mirror that rippled like water does after a stone has been thrown in. He wore a green uniform with tiny acorn buttons. He ran his hands over the uniform's front.

A key labored in the door's lock, before it opened. His Highness didn't turn but looked at the rippling mirror.
"They're nearly ready for your arrival, Your Highness."
"I imagine that they are, Duke Oaklorne."
"Will you not accompany me to the ballroom?"
"No."
"I beg your pardon, Your Highness?"
"Are you deaf, Oaklorne?"
The prince, for he was a prince, turned. The attendants turned away, the Duke withdrew a little in the door frame pushing the attendants into the hall, for the door frame had room for his frame only.
The Duke blubbered for a response. His heavy chin rippled like the mirror.
"Are you mute also?"
"No," said the Duke.
"Are you stupid then? I said that I will not go."
"I must insist that your mother insists that you-"
"I know well what my mother wants, Duke. I don't need you to be her puppet. How deep has she your hand up your-"
"Your Highness! While I never! Not in a thousand years would I expect such depravity from royalty."
"You can expect decapitation once I'm king if you do not leave me."

Duke Oaklorne stared at the prince.
"Yes," he said. He bowed while backing out the door, until his fat frame had cleared the doorway. Then he slammed the door closed. The mirror's surface birthed waves that ran from its top to bottom.

"You both are to stand guard at this door," said the Duke, '-until I return with the queen."
The attendants nodded.
"He isn't to leave the room."
"It's locked, Your Grace," said the attendants.
"Yes," said Duke Oaklorne, "But His Highness has a way of escaping, hasn't he?"
The attendants nodded again.
"Do you know what will happen if he does?"
The attendants shook their heads, No.
"If he disappears, before his wedding, it will not only be my head that rolls but both yours also. Do you understand?"
"Yes," said the attendants.
A thing hit the door from inside and shattered. The Duke shook his head and stomped off.

The prince turned to the mirror, staring into it. A lamp's remains lie scattered at the door's front, and a lightning bug flew in the air having escaped. Its bulb pulsed a rhythm like the heart, green light. From on his bed, a hollowed turtle's shell turned over filled to its brim with pine straw, he took his riding cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. Again he turned to the mirror that's surface had settled and said: "I must see her." He stepped forward and went threw the mirror--swallowed.

"This way Your Grandest of Majestys," said Duke Oaklorne.
He waddled at the Queen's side--she nearly as big as he. From head to toe she was adorned in finery, and unlike the Duke she wore it well. The two attendants bowed at her presence.
"Open, open the door," said the Duke.
"You've the keys, Your Grace," replied the attendants.
He scowled. "Yes, yes. The keys," he said, "--they're here, yes."
He looked at the Queen. She said nothing but watched.
"Any moment," said the Duke, "--yes! Here's the keys. Right here."
He placed the key in the lock, turned, and pushed the door open with his palm.
The attendants stepped aside as the queen passed into the room, again both bowed, and the Duke followed after her.

The room was empty of life but for the lightning bug that stood on the ceiling. She looked at the mirror for a second. Glass broke underneath her weight, she turned to the Duke:
"Well?"
The Duke looked around the room, seeing nothing more than the queen. The lightning bug's bulb shone on his face, green. He looked sickly.
"I'm--I'm sure he's here somewhere, Your Majesty. I'm most positive. He's only hiding. Yes! Hiding!."
To the bed went the Duke, digging in the pine straw for the prince.
"He's not to miss his wedding," said the queen.
The Duke stood up from over the bed, looked at the queen and nodded.
"Yes," he said. "Oh, yes! Certainty, Your Majesty. He's not to miss the wedding. Of course not--no."
"No," said the queen. "He won't."
She turned, leaving, but turned again and said: "Have his mirror brought to my chamber."
And walked off.
The Duke said after her, following into the hall: "I'm sure he's only playing a game, Your Majesty!"
He turned on the attendants and said under his breath, "Find him."
They cowered.

The queen sat on a chair that looked uncomfortable. She sat uncomfortably. She sat and stared at the mirror that stood before her, that had been brought to her, and nothing stared back.
"I never understood you," she said to the mirror.
"Never did I understand you. Only you would keep a mirror that cast no reflection. Only you would leave such a mirror to my only child. You!"
She threw the first thing she grasped, a bowl. It hit the mirror and fell at its foot. The mirror's surface shook like a sea shaken by a storm. Slowly it subsided under her stare.
"What is your secret," she asked.

The prince's leg emerged from nowhere, stepped on a tree branch before his arm emerged from air and his other arm and then his body. His grandfather had known well to leave him his mirror. None understood its worth but the prince. He had appeared on a branch, perched above a pond surrounded by trees that blocked it from detection if it wasn't known to be there and provided a canopy. On the tree branch he sat, legs dangling. Quiet held the pond in its pocket like all things held their breath in its presence to keep its secret. All things but the woman waist deep in the pond bathing.

Her hair hung wet to the water's surface, dark. Unashamed of her nakedness, she played in the water. Her laugh like water falling over rocks far away up stream, both quiet and clear. He watched her amazed. He ached to be closer. Without thought, he had risen from where he sat and stalked the tree branch's length. He stood at its end that stretched over the pond's surface, balanced on nimble twigs that bent under even his weight and holding onto the stems of leaves. She never noticed his movement, his admiring gaze. She never made a hint that she knew until now. Now that twigs above her snapped and leaves fell and a splash arose beside her. She thought, too, she had heard a small voice.

The splash startled the woman. She had moved to leave the pond but heard the voice. The voice she thought she heard, she knew she heard:
"Help!"
She saw no one...at first. But in the water struggled a small man, sized to fit in her palm, and she reached for him and held him. He panted.
"What are you," she asked.
"A pixie," he said.
"A pixie!"
"Yes. You've heard of us?"
"Only in wives's tales."
"I imagine that's so."
"I can't believe that you're real."
"Neither can I believe that you are."
"Have you never seen a woman before?"
"No, I have."
"A human woman?"
"No."
"You haven't?"
"No, sorry, I have."
"You make little sense, little man."

"Forgive me then. But what I meant was that I can't believe the beauty that you posse real."
"Are all your kind this flattering?"
"No. Not at all."
Suddenly her nakedness dawned on her, and she covered her breasts with her free hand. Red rose to her cheeks and she said: "How long have you been spying on me?"
"Not long," he said.
"You lie."
"You accuse me of lying?"
"I do. You're a liar."
"How can you tell," he asked.
"Because you looked away when I asked."
She held him in her palm and he stood. Now she caught him in her hand tight, fingers wrapped around, and his head stuck out only.
"Do you intend to squish me?"
"Maybe."
"You would, then, save me from a much worse fate."

"What could be worse than death?"
"Death," he said. He laughed.
"Death is nothing but troublesome for the survivors."
"Have you so little respect for life?"
"Do you hold it in such high regard?"
"And why wouldn't I," she asked, "Who wants to die? Not I."
"No? And what if you were to marry a one you didn't love?"
"Still not worse than nothingness."
"Are you sure?"
She waded to the bank and sat near her clothes. She kept him still--in her hand and in her sight.
"You don't answer, so you're not certain."
"Don't speak for me, little man. You don't know what I think. You can't say what I think then."
He opened his mouth.
"Hush," she said. "How long have you been spying on me?"
He opened his mouth again but shut it.
"How long?"

"Long enough to know that I'm not in love with the one that I'm to marry."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That I've waited too long to tell you that-"
He stopped.
"That what?"
"Nothing," he said.
"Are you blushing?"
"No," he said.
"You are. You're blushing."
"No. I'm not."
And her hand held nothing, and she opened it and looked that he had gone.
"It's not right that a peasant hold a prince."
She spun and standing on a rock perched above he stood.
"You can-"
"I can do a lot. I've magic you're incapable of understanding."
"What, what else can you do? Can you fly?"
"Hardly," he said.
"Oh," she said.

"Do you want to be a princess?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you want to be a princess?"
"I understood you the first time, but I'm not sure I understand the question."
"I'm asking-"
"I know what you're asking," she said and asked: "But how?."
"Are the means all that necessary?"
"I-"
"Yes or no?"
"Yes but-"
"Good enough."
"But-."
But all was all that she had time to say. She remembered nothing but darkness before waking, and she woke to the little man standing above her; the same size as her.

She sat up.
"What have you done?"
She examined herself, naked still, and found she was her size. She looked around and found herself in a tree, on a branch over the pond.
"What if I fall!"
"No," he said. "You won't, I promise."
He took her hand and pulled her close, wrapping his riding cloak around her.
"Don't be frightened," he said. He stepped towards the air where he had came and half his body disappeared. He looked to her and she pulled away, but he pulled her on and only his hand remained to see suspended in air. His arm pulled her on, and she too disappeared.

The queen screamed. An arm emerged from the mirror and half a face. She gripped the chair, screaming. The face fully materialized with chest, torso and legs: the prince; her son. And behind a naked woman frightened and naked but for a riding cloak. Guards rushed into the room carrying thorns as spears and adorned in armor made of bark. The group split in two, stood on either side the mirror, spears raised and aimed at the prince and his passenger.

"What have you done!"
The queen stood from the chair, looking as uncomfortable on her feet as on her rump, taking a step nearer the prince. The duke and the attendants arrived late, behind the guards.
"Your Maj-"
"Silence!"
The prince gripped the woman's hand tight. The queen stepped nearer.
"What-have-you-done."
The queen's breath fell on the prince's face, more threatening than the spears flanking him.
"Please," said the woman.
The prince gave her hand a squeeze.
"Please," said the queen. "Please. Please!"
"Mother," said the prince.
Her hand lashed out and slapped him. His head snapped to the side, blood rising in his mouth that he spat on the floor.
"I'm not your mother anymore. No son of mine brings filth such as this here! You're no better than you're worthless grandfather and his recklessness. To waste your magic on her!"

"You're to be married," said the queen.
She held up her hand to silence his protests.
"Your bride is waiting. You will cease this foolishness and be wed."
"No, I refuse!"
"You've no choice. I'm still the queen."
"And the thing," said the queen.
The woman shrank behind the prince.
"You'll not harm her."
"No," said the queen. "You're right. Take him."
The guards looked one to another.
"Take him!"
Two took hold the prince, prying him from the woman.
"Wait," said the prince. "I'll fix it. I'll take her back."
"No," said the queen.
"You can't do this."
"What," said the woman, falling to her knees, looking from the prince to the queen.
"I don't understand," she said.
The queen raised her hand, raised her hand and pointed to the woman knelt before her.
"No," said the prince. "Stop!"
He struggled against the guards.
"I love her!"

The woman looked to the prince and the queen.
"Stupid boy," said the queen and pointed her finger at the woman; the woman fell forward with arms outstretched screaming. Her legs kicked out from under her, and she trashed about on the floor. White hairs ruptured from her skin one by one by one, faster and faster, her body being covered. Her arms and legs withdrew inside her, shrinking, her fingernails growing, her mouth protruding, her teeth extending, her ears larger and larger and at last a tail.

"A mouse," said the duke.
Tears ran down the prince's face, he slumped in the guards's grip.
"Now she can be seen for the vermin she truly is."
She stood there on all the fours, the woman now the mouse. Her nose wrinkled, her whiskers moving and she looked from the queen to the prince. The prince's eyes found hers through his tears--he saw her eyes.
"They're still the same."
"Get him to his bride," said the queen.
And the guards led him away.

The guards had passed.
"What of the woman--the mouse," asked the duke.
"Take care of it," said the queen.
"I have a wedding to attend."
And she walked past him and his attendants.
The duke looked to his attendants.
"Catch her then," he said.
The two attendants crept closer but the woman mouse scurried out of reach.
"Hurry," said the duke.
"It's too fast," said the attendants.
One dove for the woman mouse, missed and she shot past to the mirror and ran through, disappearing.
The duke stood speechless, and the attendants looked at one another.

The prince stood in a room adjacent the ballroom waiting. Guards stood sentry at the entry, not looking at him but staring at nothing like statues. Music carried from the ballroom to him and sank his spirits further. He paced to and fro, to and fro without ceasing until he heard the guards move. He looked to them. The guards stood straighter, solid and more statue like. His mother, the queen, entered the room.
"Leave us," she said.
The guards obeyed. The prince looked past the queen, watching the guards leave. There footfalls succumbed by music, his mother interjected its melody: "How dare you."
The prince looked up from the spot on the floor he had focused on, he looked up at her eyes and met her gaze.
"How dare you! You attempt to control my life. To make me a prisoner of my own palace."
"My palace-"
"You have no right!"
"I've every right. I'm your mother and the queen."
The prince screamed.
"You!"
He moved towards her but stopped short. She stood unmoved, watching.
"Why do you hate me," he asked. "And her?"

The queen erupted. Her voice louder than ever.
"Always it's you. All about you. You selfish little boy! Is that all you think of is me, me, me? Haven't you thought of your kingdom? Of tradition? Of respect? You're no different than your grandfather!"
"My grandfather was a great man."
"Ha! Great? Hardly. And you take after him in every way. You and your filthy human woman."
"What?"
But the queen didn't hear him. She turned her back on him, she threw her hands in the air.
"How could I expect any less? How could I not suspect that mirror? Of course! It makes sense now...yes. Why else would he leave it to you? But! A third generation, it shouldn't have been deluded. Oh, Mother Earth!"
"What," said the prince.
He grabbed her arm, spun her, stared in her eyes. She said nothing. He shook her more. She stared off, through him, past him. Music drifted back into the room, replacing silence.

She looked at him.
"Don't you feel it in your blood," she asked.
His heart pounded. She grabbed his shoulders. And stared at him now, into him. He let go of her, stepping back but she held him.
"The filth," she said.
"The dirty, filthy human. Your worthless grandfather tempted. Seduced no less! His weakness bred weakness into you. I've fought it all these years. You were my hope and you failed. You're just like him."
"The mirror," said the prince.
"Yes that stinking mirror."
"It showed me what I desired, allowed me to escape. Took me where I wanted to go."
"No!" She shook him.
He pulled her hands away, pushed her back and stepped away.
"The mirror! He left me the mirror to escape you and this place."
"No! He left you the mirror to ruin us."
"You stupid woman," said the prince. "You stupid, arrogant woman."
"You'll marry her! Out there," said the queen. "You'll restore our blood. Your generation closer to pure."
"Get away from me."
He made for the door. She stepped to block.

"Move," he said.
She stood there.
"You'll move, woman."
"Guards!"
He heard their footfalls closing, each louder than the first.
"They'll escort you to your wedding," she said.
"You're wrong."
It all made sense. The mirror...why his grandfather had left it. His mother's hatred for him, for herself and for him--her son. His love for the woman, he was part human. There was only one thing left to do. There was only one he loved. He raised his hand and pointed his finger at himself. The queen watched first curious. Realization took hold of her! He fell to the floor thrashing, the footfalls stopped together and the guards filled the room to see: the prince on the floor transformed.

He stood on all fours a mouse. The queen clutched her chest and gasped, sank to the floor and gripped one the guards.
"Your Majesty," said the guard. "Your Majesty!"
The prince, now a mouse, turned to look her in the face but she looked at the ceiling...dead. The prince scurried off, the guards jumped back. Some raised their spears others didn't. None knew what to do. He ran down the hall. He ran past the ballroom. He ran on to his mother's chambers, where the mirror lie on the floor knocked over, and he made a leap and disappeared into it.

He emerged in the shade on wet grass, on a bank, encircling a pond. He looked up, bending his head side to side, his whiskers moving as his nose crinkled. He ran. He ran towards her, towards her smell and found her at the pond's edge with her front feet in. She looked up at him and saw his eyes were the same, and she came to him and he to her in that magic place.