Chapter Ten

The Heart

Wilhelm sat huddled at the desk, his quill flying madly across the open pages of his writing book. The words were erratic, slanting at different angles and crossing over each other. Some words ran out of ink halfway. There were so many layers and ink blots that the whole mess was practically illegible. Not that it mattered; for several pages now he had only written one phrase. Two words repeated a million times.

"Do it, my prince."

Wilhelm whined as the voice echoed in his head. It was disembodied and seemed to be everywhere at once. "No," he moaned, but his hand continued to scrawl the directions still.

"You see the words. The orders. Do it, for me."

"I can't," Wilhelm groaned. Beneath the desperation was a hard note of defiance. "I won't."

"Yes, you will. You are mine. You will do my bidding, whether you wish it or not."

Wilhelm's body seized as an image formed before his eyes, drawing his entire consciousness out of his body as though he was being pulled into the vision. The Mirror Queen stood, in all her terrible glory, beside a golden pedestal. In the centre of the plinth was a human heart, red and beating.

"Your heart is mine, prince," the queen said and she trailed a fingertip over the tender organ.

"No" Wilhelm gasped, filled with rage and terror. "Impossible!" The queen smiled wickedly and plunged a fingernail into the heart. Wilhelm screamed in agony, his hands scrabbling over his chest in pain. It felt exactly as though he were reliving that night years ago in the tower, when Jakob had slid the dagger into him. He was being stabbed in the heart.

There were tears on Wilhelm's face when the pain finally died to a bearable level. He could taste the coppery sting of blood in his mouth, making him nearly gag. The queen smiled victoriously, blood dripping from her fingertip.

"You see, my handsome prince, you are mine," she cooed in her poisoned honey voice. "This heart is yours and it belongs to me. You will do as I ask." Giving him a meaningful stare, she roughly prodded the small incision she had just created. Wilhelm winced as the pain lanced through him.

"So do it," he spit venomously . "Stab it. Torment me. Kill me. I would rather die than do what you ask."

"I would not kill you," the queen said with a mocking pout.

"Then I will do it myself!"

"So noble." The queen clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "No, my prince, you won't. You cannot be killed, not so long as your heart is free of your body. You know that. You can defy me no longer. You are mine to command."

"I won't-" Wilhelm's argument died on his lips. The queen had been and placed her scarlet lips against the heart. A gloriously freeing sensation filled Wilhelm's mind as all thought left him, making him light-headed. A brief though, in the queen's voice, flashed through his mind and he acted without hesitation.

She pulled her lips, now crimson and bloody, away from the heart and instantly Wilhelm felt a searing pain. Her words, 'hurt yourself,' still echoed in the back of his mind and the agonising throbbing in his left arm gave him little doubt that he had done as she asked.

"You see, my prince, the power of my kiss is still inside of you. When I first brought you under my power, it was sealed with a kiss. That magic does not fade. Even now your soul is bound to my will." The queen grinned, a droplet of blood rolling down from beneath her lip and staining her snowy skin. Horror flooded into Wilhelm and on its pedestal the heart began to beat faster. "Yes. You are mine. Completely."

"No," Wilhelm sobbed in terror. This was it, though. It explained everything that had happened over the past two years. The night his heartbeat had suddenly disappeared had been the night she had stolen his heart from his body. That was why he couldn't die. Why he felt strange compulsions he couldn't explain. Why he was plagued by nightmares where she called to him. He had been right, she had been biding her time. "No, please, I can't."

"You will," the queen demanded simply. "You have seen that I can force your hand. Either you will do it on your own and be as merciful as you please, or I will make you. I will make you tear him apart, and hold his dying heart in your hands. I will force misery and suffering upon your entire village, at your hands. Decide, my prince, only remember that you are mine. You will do as I wish."

Still crying, Wilhelm mumbled, "Yes, my queen."

The vision faded and Wilhelm felt his mind slowly return to his body. The pain in his arm redoubled. Slowly, he grew aware of his surroundings again and realised that he had fallen from his chair and had been writhing on the floor. His arm sent out a stinging pulse again and he fearfully looked over at it. His writing quill protruded from his forearm and the feather was speckled with red.

Tremulously, he moved his gaze to the other object that had fallen to the floor with him. The black leather book was lying open and he stared in horror at the two words printed a hundred times across the pages in his own hand.

Kill Jakob.