"Rose-Red, are you okay?" My mother stepped from behind a group of fallen trees.

I arranged the death shroud over Hanna. "They stole his body. I'll find him, and we'll give Wicker a burial."

"Yes, you must do that. Wicker has become a symbol for the kingdom, but you might die. I don't want you to." My mother approached me, her hair still red despite her advanced age. Her face appeared older than the weeks before. She was thirty-nine when she gave birth to her oldest, and fifty-two when she gave birth to me. Father's first wife died in childbirth, and their only daughter possessed real magic. My dear, sweet sister. At least she was safe.

"We're not going to allow magic hunters to desecrate Wicker." She stared at the chosen one's body. "Make sure you don't remove your disguise until you reach the cave with him."

"No, I'll need to change at least twice, and I have my tools. It wasn't Wicker's fault that he was born with magic. I miss him."

"They must be attempting a wooden puppet spell. They claim they don't cast magic, but the Beating Heart Carnival lies." My mother hugged me again. "You're in love with him, and I understand this is hard on you."

"Yes, it is." My face hardened. "He wasn't fake nice like the other princes. But even if they allowed him to marry, I wouldn't be an accepted bride, but I didn't know how much I adored him until his family chose Hanna and not me to protect him. I feel sorry for her, but..."

Hanna's wooden hand fell from underneath the black and stardust cloth, and a gasp of air left my lung. She became more and more puppet-like, but couldn't stand up or move other than twitch.

"Magic Hunters wanted to create a zombie puppet." Mother grabbed my arm. "You're the only hope we have. We will pick a new king and queen from the survivors, for the kingdom will refuse Wicker's brothers when they return."

Strong aromas of rancid magic hit my lungs. My heart beat faster, and my eyes watered. I tried to remember the scent.

Scents of cinnamon, sage, and rotted food repulsed me.

Thousands of years ago, pretend godly men hunted women with hair like mine to kill them for magic they didn't possess.

Their sin angered Snow White, and she gave adult women magic to defend themselves against the fallen queen's magic hunters. They had attempted to remove her heart. I wondered if the hunters and carnival members always used hateful magic.

We hid our kingdom.

My mother left, and I was on my own.

I yanked off my backpack, removed the blond wig, and pinned the blue curls on my head. I changed my appearance with cosmetics and latex.

My gloves won't leave fingerprints, not that the evil magic hunters will search for me. They only look for magic and physical imperfections. And no dog will help them identify me by scent. Our dogs attack them. Another spritz on my backpack. It transformed into a yellow bag, but I replaced the straps and added small decorative pins.

I moved past the battle scene and into the woods. My heavy boots cracked the dry mud. The sound would've been beautiful if not for the horrors that waited for me. Air escaped my lungs, and I stepped forward.

I notice imprints of boots and sandals and an imprint of a cane. Maybe Wicker was still alive. He had to be alive. I ran in short sprints. It meant they were making a spectacle of his death.

"It's Hanna's fault," I said.

The magic hunters came back and controlled the evil carnival. The painted symbol of a human heart hung above the entryway. I looked like the other beautiful carnival attendees.

A gorgeous man smelled my arm and took my money, but I imagined that his real face was covered in death. "I smell no magical gifts. You can enter."

He dragged the man who stood behind me, but it was too late.

The man was the last of Hanna's guards, and his magic couldn't save him.

"I have information," he said. "Hanna sent a girl with powerful magic to free Wicker."

"Yes, and we killed her." They shoved the traitor from the carnival but didn't slaughter him.

The magic hunter laughed. "Don't capture him yet. He was useful, and if Wicker's heart won't work, we'll try his."

Crowds formed and watched a fake glowing heart pulsating in the middle of the square. I observed these guests and customers, mimicking their movements. They weren't puppets and chose this.

Vendors sold red apples, hard sausage, and sweet funeral biscuits. I purchased a biscuit and traced the embossed image of Hanna's face.

"I'm here for the show. Are they going to turn Wicker into a puppet?" I asked the vendor.

He laughed and handed me another biscuit. The king consort's face was proudly displayed. "Well, they need to kill Wicker first. I can't wait to sell biscuits to celebrate his death. Already carved the stamp. None of the other hearts worked, but maybe if Wicker has a public death, his heart will return the true queen to life. She'll rise and rule over us."

My heartbeat loudly. Wicker was alive. My mouth trembled as I spoke. "Praise be a world without imperfection and birth magic." I handed him more money.

"I agree. Why do only The Forgotten Kingdom royals and women possess powers? It isn't fair. Powers should only go to the beautiful followers of the fallen queen."

I bowed to him and walked off. When I knew I couldn't be seen, I tossed the biscuits into a trash can. It was shaped like a hungry mouth.

A Ferris Wheel filled with tortured wooden zombie puppets continuously. Men and women laughed at them. Beautiful monsters embarked on the roller coaster, laughing and screaming.

A woman sat, chained in her seat. His wings were partially plucked. The word Future readings scrawled on her desk.

A muscular carnival barker stood by her side. He tipped his straw hat to me.

"I am not supposed to charge for my gift," the fortune-teller said to the man. "It curses the money." The fortune-teller placed dozens of crystal-shaped hearts on her desk from a small sack. Most sparkled except for an ugly, misshapen heart formed from sea glass.

"Little woman, I want you to be cursed." He patted her black hair as if she was a dog. "A heart reading costs no more than four spice cakes! Can you put a price on your future?"

I headed to the bathroom and pretended I was making my face more exquisite, but I located a tool from my backpack.

Afterward, I headed back and handed the man paper money, coins, and gems. "I want a special reading." When I squeeze the woman's hand, I drop the screwdriver. She needs to free herself.

"Sell her a reading," the carnival barker said.

The fortune-teller smiled at me. "I've been waiting for you. You'll be victorious, and the broken is within your grasp." The fortune-teller handed me the misshapen heart.

"That is not a real reading. You're only supposed to give out the nicer crystals. She'll lie to everyone you're a fraud." he said.

I pocketed the small crystal heart. "No, it's concerning a guy, and I know what it means." I handed the barker more money. "Can she give me a reading regarding the chosen one's soul? I hope she suffered."

"Me too," the carnival barker said.

The fortune-teller shuffled the crystal hearts around. They glowed this time. "Hanna and the prince's grandfather gave up my location. She thought the carnival leaders would give her and the prince safe passage and planned her kiss to end his curse. He isn't plagued with a magic spell." The fortune-teller handed me a crystal. "Hanna is with the fallen queen. But the prince would only be cursed if he chose her as a mate."

I kept the nicer crystal, too. Music filled the air from men cranking boxes. Old waltzes filled the air. I pass vendors selling overpriced spice cakes and hot chocolate. Men and women sold balloons shaped like skulls and coffins.

Rose sellers rolled bouquets with paper, and no one noticed the stink except for me. Maybe they grew used to the rot.

When I was far away, I tossed a glowing orb, distracting the fortune-teller's captor, and allowing her to escape. She flew away.

And I found the main tent, and I purchased a ticket. You can watch a man die with enough money.

I entered the tent and surveyed it. When I touched the red cloth, it didn't burn my flesh, for I contain no magic. I snuck in behind the wood bleachers. Men and women sit in their finest. Beautiful faces, like works of art, and their smiles stiff and frozen, waiting for another death.

No man or woman with magic could defeat this evil band of magical bandits.

There is no chosen one, so I used my wit.

I may not possess powers, but I have a few hidden tricks. The men with their handsome faces do not notice me underneath their seats.

"No man with blemishes can be a member of The Beating Heart Carnival. We're works of beauty." Their leader is different from the last one.

I wonder if they turned him into a puppet.

The new man is dressed in a white suit and top hat, but I knew it would be stained with Wicker's blood. A necklace hung to his waist. It resembled a stone heart. The device glowed, but it was a trick from a lightbulb tucked inside. I knew how the con worked. My mom sold them in her shop.

Their new leader yanked a man from a cage.

Story Question: Do you sometimes feel like a puppet?